April 11, 2002
On Motherhood

I'm Okay

By Rabona Gordon

The house is a mess, the dishes are dirty.

I'm too old for this stuff, I'm well over thirty!

The car is not clean, my house is a wreck,

And I've already spent next Friday's paycheck.

The laundry needs washing, the kids are too rowdy,

And I never have time for a leisurely "Howdy."

With all that I do, it's never enough,

It's never quite finished, it always looks rough.

I looked in my mirror and what did I see?

A harried old stranger, where I used to be.

The hurrier I go, the behinder I get.

Today is tomorrow, and I'm not caught up yet.

My kids are growing at such a fast pace,

That I'm missing their childhood for the sake of this race.

I work and I clean and I cook, and I say

"Hit the books, clean your room!" there's no time for play.

Well, the Lord, for some reason, chose ME with the care

Of three of His children, but I'm rarely there!

I've GOT to slow down lest there's nothing to show

For my role as their mom when they pack up and go!

I'm only one person, but look through my door,

What appears to be one, divides into more!

I'm a chauffeur, a cook, a planter of trees,

A teacher, an umpire, a mender of knees.

Sometimes, I forget that deep down inside,

There's a lady with feelings, and last night, she cried.

She gets tired and lonely, feels taken for granted

She wants to see blooms from the seeds that she's planted.

Then, amidst all the turmoil in this mind-bending pace,

My little ones look at me - square in the face...

And just when I need it, they all in one day

Say, "Momma, I love you" and then...I'm OKAY!


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