A letter to the Stay-at-Home mom

Dear stay-at-home mom,

I see you.

I see you, waking up 5, 6, 10 times with your newborn who has her schedule messed up.

I see you, waking with the sun, with sleepy eyes, as you pour the first of many cups of coffee that will turn cold before you get a moment to drink them.

I see you, mom bun for the 3rd time this week because you haven’t had time to shower.

I see you, as your wild one throws another car at your head.

I see you, wanting to hold your newborn as much as you can because you know babies don’t keep.

I see you, trying your hardest to give all your love and attention to all your kids, while trying to juggle the housework at the same time.

I see you, serving lunch to your family only to sit down to a cold plate for yourself.

I see you, dressing defiant toddlers, wiping hands, faces, and bottoms all day long.

I see you, hiding in the bathroom as your children bang and kick the door because they have to show you something right that second.

I see you, sitting on the kitchen floor teaching your babes all about the world instead of doing the dishes that have continued to pile up.

I see you, cooking dinner while separating fighting children, only to not eat any yourself.

I see you, scared eyes as they jump off the couch for the 5th time today, because they’re being adventurers.

I see you, staring at the massive pile of laundry beckoning to be folded. But you know you won’t get to it for a couple more days.

I see you, stopping in the middle of sweeping to play playdoh because you know one day they won’t ask you to come play with them anymore.

I see you, kissing sleepy heads, tucking them in, reading stories and singing them to sleep.

I see you, getting them another glass of water and finally sinking into bed exhausted after a long day of doing so much, but feeling like you got absolutely nothing accomplished.

I see you, eyes weary, as you sit awake at night to get even 10 minutes to yourself.

I see you, keeping it all together when you feel like you’re falling apart.

I see you, loving this life and all the chaos involved. Never wanting it to change for even a second even though it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done.

I see you, mama. Because I am you.