" /> A Letter To Moms - Lola Nicole

A Letter To Moms

Dear Mom on the Floor,

You’re not alone. I’m right there with you, sprawled out on the floor like a washed-up starfish. Just ready to drown in my tears. I’m there too. You didn’t imagine it would be like this. You always saw those beautiful photos of mothers looking their best with such well-behaved children in tow. But that’s not always reality. In fact, it’s not a reality at all. Life is messy, you learn as you go. Some have it better than others at first, but everybody eventually finds their way.

For the SAHM-there’s the sleepless nights, the loneliness, wanting to talk to someone old enough to buy a beer, so much so that when the UPS guy or the mailman comes you start talking about random things and they’re looking at you like ‘Ok lady, here’s your mail.” No? Just me? K, thanks! Well, I’m there too. To the working single mom and the married single mom (you know what I mean) who has to wake up, get dressed for work, get kids ready for school, get out the door and everyone where they need to be on time. Then get off work, pick up kids, grocery shop, go home, cook dinner, run baths, do laundry, remember all appts, performances, field trips, little Suzie’s birthday party and so on. Every mom who’s lost sleep or cried themselves to sleep or even both. You rocked a sick child or children to sleep, you’ve sent your kids off to school for the day only to worry the entire time they’re out of your sight for their safety and well being. I FEEL you. When you’ve tried everything and your child is still inconsolable and you’re just touched out and drained. When you’ve breastfed so much that you don’t even want to touch your own body to shower. When all you want to do is crawl into the nearest bed and sleep for days. I UNDERSTAND. You’re not alone. You’re not wrong. You’re not a bad mom for making tv dinners or letting them eat whatever is in the pantry just so they can go to bed and get out of your hair. You love them, you made them, you carried them, you felt and heard their heartbeat before they even knew who you were. It’s ok. There’s millions of us. We’re everywhere, feeling all the feels.

The next time you see that mom that looks like she’s going to exit out the back of Publix and leave her screaming child right there on the floor in the chip aisle. You just look at her and say, girl, I FEEL you. I UNDERSTAND. We need more compassion, more help, more support, more love. Stop judging so much and band together. I mean we need some defense against these toddlers man, like they’re seriously cray, lol. Mothers do an extremely exhausting and endless job. It’s thankless, there’s no trophy or award given. Sometimes you just want to punch your SO when they haven’t helped you do one thing around the house but still expect you to have dinner on the table and then be ready to get sexy later even though you’re currently wearing your “fancy sweats” and your “good” t-shirt for the third day in a row because you’ve either had no time or just been so exhausted you couldn’t even get up the strength to make it to the bathroom to shower.

Sometimes your kids even make you cry. No? Just me again? Ugh, ok then. Yes, that’s right. My 14 yr old has made me cry and so has my 4 yr old. Girls can be mean, lmao. But for real they are. But, you know what? I’m doing my best and so are you. There is no manual to life, especially the having children part. No one tells you that once you become a mother, no excuse me, once you conceive, that your whole life changes. You begin changing and adapting and protecting from day 1. Your body does things that shouldn’t even be humanly possible, you create life. I mean I don’t want to toot my own horn but man I’m pretty awesome, lol. I mean really, so are you. You’re awesome, mom in the PJ pants, sweatshirt, no bra and sunglasses to hide your eye bags in the car rider line. (If i’m alone in this morning fashion choice, I’m gonna scream, LOL).

I’m with you mom currently looking at her peacefully sleeping SO while being puked on at 3 am and thinking of ways to slap him and pretend it was a dream when he wakes up. Sometimes I just want to walk out my front door and get in my car and drive off. Have an Eat, Pray, Love moment and then figure it out from there. But I don’t and neither do you. We stay, we show up every day without fail. We keep things running like a well-oiled machine, sometimes everything doesn’t go as planned but you get through it. So the next time you’re on the floor, just close your eyes and imagine the other moms out there just like you. On the floor like washed up starfish, so exhausted they could probably fall asleep just like that, hearing small voices calling their name and just wanting to burst into tears. Just know that we’re there, know that we’re together in mind and spirit. I will hold your hand in spirit. We’re together on that floor and we will lay there and cry and feel our feels and then get up, pull ourselves together and return to the chaos.

But when it’s all said and done. Here we are, standing by our children’s beds or looking at them peacefully sleeping next to us and think, “I love you so much, I never knew my heart could feel this much love for anything other than Jason Momoa.” , lol j/k j/k.” But seriously, they know. They know you love them, they know you care and even though they said you ruined their life the other night or they hate you, they don’t. Let’s not forget we were all kids once and I’m sure our own moms have plenty to say about how we acted when we were children. But once they get older and they begin to think you’re uncool, they dont want to kiss you infront of their friends anymore and they think you don’t know anything, just know that will pass and they will grow to want your opinion. They will want to call you randomly and be appalled when you don’t answer the phone, lol. You’re the first person they want to tell great news and the one they want to make proud the most. Because they’re the only person who has heard your heartbeat from the inside. You’re a great mom, you’re doing great and if no one has told you today, I love you!


Chantea (Lola Nicole)

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