A Mama Hen’s Heavy Burdens

Some days, the heaviest burden you have to bear is a chicken with questionable hairstyling.

Then there are the days where you have a two hour Doctor appointment with two kids. It’s enough to drive a person to drink.
And just when you think you can’t take it anymore, there are poo poo problems on the back porch. That’s all I’m going to say about that…
I’m thinking being a mother is a battle, not a job. Mothers have to fight for their sanity, their children’s character, and to keep Spongebob Squarepants out of the living room (What? He’s annoying).
We fight for toilet flushes and kind hands, and we fight to keep from crying hysterically over an unfilled vitamin prescription that was supposed to be filled. The little things can make a Mother crazy, and instead of focusing on the amazing miracle of a small person wanting to be held and kissed, we raise our eyes to the heavens and say, “Dear God, what am I supposed to do with all these kids?”
These prayers usually happen when there has been a spill of some sort, or a nap drought, or a permanent marker found and used irresponsibly.
For me, these prayers happen pretty much every day, because every little thing adds to the waters behind the floodgates of my hormonal eyeballs. I’m eight months pregnant, and I’m getting a little frantic about a third boy, and I’m doing weird things like sorting clothes and organizing closets. I also have an overwhelming desire to wash the windows (this desire only comes to me when I’m pregnant).
So I’ve been fighting this war with water hoses and I’ve recruited sunshine and lots of “outside” to help me keep my sanity, and my perspective.
FYI: Sunshine and hoses are an Atomic Bomb against bad attitudes…do you like how I’m mixing poultry with militant phraseology?

Me too.
Shel has moved into a big boy bed. The day of big boy beds has come suddenly and unexpectedly.
That’s the thing about this war, if you focus too much on the fight, you miss out on everything.
So take some time to leave the laundry in a pile, and pet your chick.
There will always be dirty laundry, and mosquitoes and bad breath. There will be cavities, spilled apple juice, and emotional roller coasters.
But, there wont always be fluffy little babies to snuggle and homemade cards with illegible chicken scratch that only your chicks can decipher for you.

16 thoughts on “A Mama Hen’s Heavy Burdens

  1. Aw, Joann, this got me all teary!

    Mostly your words, but partly because i want a pool more than chocolate.

    Also, that pic with the hose? Priceless!

    Much love to you today (and every day, obvs)! xo

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  2. I love this post and it was especially apropos on Mother's Day! As a mom who is, thankfully, finally past the poop and spill battles and has moved on to teenager battles such as homework and cell phones and girlfriends (yikes!)…I confess that I still “pick my battles” when it comes to motherhood.

    One of my favorite sayings seems to fit (in light of that first photo, perhaps?)….”Raising children is like being pecked to death by chickens.”

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  3. you speak the truth. Those baby boys make me swoon, add in the chicken and I want to be you for a bit…until the poo then I am outta there! xoxo
    PS I don't allow Spongebob either…he is rude.

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  4. This made me cry. It has been an emotional roller coaster weekend for some unknown reason. (I can't blame pregnancy hormones – though I feel like I should get to forever.) There were moments I fought to keep the perspective of which you write here, and moments when the reality of how quickly time flies hit me HARD. Happy Mother's Day to you.
    (And btw – I love the phrase “nap drought.” So true, so true.)

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  5. Goodness gracious! You have quite the way with words! And all these words were wonderful and true! I hope you had a fantastic day with your boys!

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  6. of course you get the scribbling/chicken scratchings. of course.
    and that window washing urge? i also only get it while pregnant.
    i've missed visiting all my online friends. i hope to have a baby today. or tomorrow.
    and to stop focusing on the close-ups of this war? yes, please. it's so about eternality, isn't it? (did i make that word up? perhaps. but i'm 9 months pregnant. and a former english major. i claim it!!)

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  7. Oh those sweet little chicks are just so precious.

    (and the baby chickens are pretty cute, too.)

    Always love it when a bad attitude gets the bomb. Reading your posts always does that for me –

    XO

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  8. oooooo just another scrummy post from you! i am so excited for you and baby 3, when is your due date? you are allowed to be hormonal at 8 months pregnant, it comes with the territory…well more honestly it comes with the territory of being in the mummy battle i think! i am going to take extra time out tomorrow to hug my chicks with your post in mind! (that sounded a bit rude…you do know i mean my kids when i say chicks, lol!) xx

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  9. Enjoy the sun, fight the good fight, remember to rest, what on earth kind of chicken is that cuz I've never seen anything like it that wasn't created by Jim Henson and finally, someday even the poo poo on the porch stories will be funny and a little sentimental (although that perhaps may be many years from now in a galaxy far, far away).

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  10. Oh JoAnn, I'm not that far away from these days and I already miss them. I miss toddlers. The chickens, the thumb sucker, the poo poo (or doo doo, as we way)…this is exactly right.
    Love to you as you await boy #3…you're going to make it!

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