On my last writing roundabout, I received a complimentary visit by friends I had made from my previous stay. These companions happened to have web-feet and came in waterfowl form. This time though, the ducks had multiplied by six (or maybe it was seven, I lost count after five) and walked around the community like they owned the place.

I watched in admiration as the mother duck led her six to seven ducklings to the pond, providing swimming lessons in the most patient manner. She then routed them across the street, where they clung to her side and adhered to her commands like a barnacle on a legendary ship.

I thought to myself, “Why haven’t we looked to the ducks for parenting advice?” Probably because ducks cannot talk, but nevertheless, I will go to my grave knowing that the ducks have all the answers.

Instead of blubbering in sadness from not being a bitchin’ mother duck, I decided to write a poem/song/mishmash of nonsense about mothers and how awesome they are, how under-recognized they live each day, and how hard they bust their asses only to be ogled at for not keeping the house clean, knowing full well they never sat on the couch once that day.

This one’s for you, you badass warrior women.

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The Stay-At-Home Mother Song

(I originally titled it this, but it has since evolved into an all-encompassing, non-discriminatory song about all forms of mothers.)

Oh being a stay-at-home mother
Is not for the vain or faint-hearted.
Often your cleaning up pee-soaked pants
Or answering the question of “who farted?” (Wasn’t me…)

The gig will cause you to lose your mind
As you guide the gremlins on how to be kind
But these warnings should not deter a mother
As they are expected to show how to care for each other.

The children will beat you and attempt to defeat you,
And sometimes will make you turn blue,
But hold steady to your morals, values, superstitions,
Fortune will find you when they become self-sufficient

Kids will challenge your temper, most times they will win
Stand tall, rise above, and drink silky gin
They will tell you that everything you know is wrong,
that you are constantly teaching them the wrong song,
But maybe if all mothers had a proverbial bong,
Perhaps everyone would merrily float along strong.

Oh being a stay-at-home mother,
Requires a disciplined, habitual brain smother
Sometimes you wake up at the break of dawn
To keep your sanity from rolling away on the lawn
You fill your head with numbers and books,
To scratch the itches in your self-care nooks,
But it never lasts long enough.

You might get a second, a minute, an hour,
But soon you find yourself under a tower,
Surrounded by 80’s hair band wannabes,
Donning wild hair, scratchy voices, and neon jammies
Crying for help, demanding attention,
You then hide your valuables and give them the kitchen.

Let’s not forget to applaud the others,
The most fearless of all, the childless mothers,
The ones taking care of our sisters and brothers,
The ones tending to the animals and supporting our druthers.
The sweet loving ones who would adopt a kitten,
Even if at first glance they were not quite smitten,
Because that kitten needed food, love, and mittens,
But it lacked the attractive fur that can glisten.

And please empathize with the delicate abounding,
Those who longed to succumb to the world of child-rearing,
But were told by the stars it was not in the cards,
That now gnaws at their heart and keeps their love behind invisible bars.
Or the mothers who have loved and lost a child,
For those are the ones who have hearts that are violently wild.

Lest not we forget the mothers who hustle,
Who work outside of the house and sacrifice being the muscle,
For these are the heroes surrendering to,
A broken system and a messed up view.
Let’s feel for these mothers and give them a hand,
And strive for a time when they will be able to band
Together to slay the working-class struggle
And make money and do the mom-dance juggle
For there should be a way for them to do both,
But the dearth of perks for mothers has inhibited growth.

Regardless of all the hullabaloo,
The most important job that a mother can do
Is teach how to care, how to give, but it’s true
That a mother forgets she is a human too,
While being herself should be the easiest task,
She finds that “Remaining you” is the most arduous ask.
So for anyone who is a childless mother,
or has some gremlins or cares for her brother,
Or presents as a person who cares for a cuddler,
Never forget to follow your star,
Please remember to be who you are,
At times you will forget, but never relent
To sparkle, always sparkle.