Mom, Mom, Mom

I'm that mom today, that just wishes someone would listen to her when she says anything.

I'm that mom today, that just wishes she had a clone specially made for sleeping for both of us.

I'm that mom today, that heard "Mom" being screeched, screamed, moaned, yelled, and whispered too many times, and now wishes her name was Bob.

I'm that mom today, that yelled in the car for one of her kids to just stop saying mom for no reason. And then when that kid at a red light said it one last time with the saddest little face, then pointed to the front seat and said, "raroo" her heart broke into a bajillion pieces, because the whole time he was saying it, this time today, was because he wanted to hold his brother's kangaroo for the ride. It's not his fault he doesn't know many words, and the one word he has perfected is supposed to get the attention of the one person who knows what he always wants and needs. And he worked so hard to find the real word that would get him what he needed to take the ride. Because his mom was too tired to know this time.

I'm that mom today, that drove all the way to the faraway Target, because they have a drive through Starbucks in the parking lot and 2 of the kids are car napping, and it's finally quiet enough, to actually think. And what am I thinking about? How bad I feel for being so tired today that I wish my name was Bob.

I'm that mom today, that forgot to appreciate how amazing it is to actually be a mom.