The Road Less Stressful

Two paths diverged in Motherhood

and sadly I could not do it all.

I’m just one mom, and there I stood

Looking as far ahead as I could

down the path I thought I should trod

The footprints on that path are many

Offers of fun and activity was plenty

 

Then I carefully looked the other path over

it was overgrown and full of clover

It seemed rather quiet

and much less of a riot

 

There are things on the worn path

that seem so good and might be a blast

But life is moving way too fast

fighting and stress are the bitter aftermath

 

So I had to choose which way to go

I knew I may not ever come back this way

And one Sunday I knew we just  had to choose slow

Offers and activities will come as they may

But sometimes I have to choose to just walk away

 

There are a lot of things that might be fun

But my audience to please is really just One

The joy of peace and quietness

leaves my family in much less of a mess

 

Choosing quiet nights and running less

Even if it’s just once in a while,  it still can bless

I’ll tell this tale someday to come

when my mothering days are done.

 

Two roads diverged in motherhood, and I-

I took the one less stressful.

And that has made all the difference.

 

 

Poorly adapted from The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Isn’t It Great Being A Woman?

When we are born, everyone squeals with glee:  It’s a girl!!  From the moment they put the pink hat on, we are the fashion envy of the world.  Bows, hats, headbands, dresses, ruffles, shoes, the works!  And life is good and sweet, drenched in pink.

We grow into little girls who are confident.  Girls who don’t wonder if they can do anything, they KNOW they can.  Life is full of possibilities.

Then we grow into puberty.  We grow too fast.  We are awkward.  We doubt ourselves.  We develop hips, get hair in weird places, zits appear and we get our first visit from Aunt Flo. 

Our bodies panic.  And so do we.  And we grasp onto our Pamprin and Clearisil and wait for things to get better.

We become young adult women.  We go off to college, start a career, fall in love.  Just as we think those awkward years are behind us and we’ve finally got it together, we get pregnant.  Our stomach triples in size. Along with other body parts.  Heartburn hits after a glass of water or piece of gum.  We spend every morning worshipping at the porcelain throne. We have to wear maternity clothes.  Our careers take a back seat.

Our bodies panic.  So do we.  And we grasp our prenatal vitamins, tums and epidurals and wait for things to change.

Just when we think our bodies might actually get back to almost normal and our lives and careers might regulate,  we hit middle age.  We have an identity crisis.  After we finally got used to being mommy, the kids don’t need us as much. Periods change, bladders and uterus’ fail.  Hair turns gray.  Acne rears its ugly head.  Again.  Really, gray hair and acne at THE SAME TIME?!

So our bodies panic.  So do we.  And we clutch our OB-Gyn’s hand and beg for help.  We clutch our hair dresser’s hand and beg for color.  We grasp our bladder control pills and prescription deodorant and pray for freedom.

I have heard when you are finally upon the golden years and an empty nest, menopause hits.  According to the experts, this can last approximately five minutes to five hundred years.  We have hot flashes, night sweats and periods as regular and predictable as a 13 year old.  We think we’ve finally gone completely nuts.

Our bodies panic.  And so do we.  We clutch our estrogen and head for Florida.

And then we die.

Isn’t being a woman great!?