This Mothers' Day was not the best one I ever experienced. There have been better ones that fit the description of a Hallmark card. Not this one (sigh). Motherhood. It's complicated. Just because a woman gives birth, that does make her mother material. Only the self-centered and the vein think that motherhood is strolling in the park with sedated babies that never scream, cry, barf, or shit themselves (or on you) in designer clothing.
Reality check.
Being a mother means you have basically freely given your soul and life purpose to someone else. You will not have a moment to even *think* about yourself for the next quarter century. Everything you do is for the ones you brought into this world.
Guess what. I've hit the quarter century mark. Murderers who have done time in prison have been released on parole with less of a sentence. It's my turn to be released.
Tuesday, May 10, 2016
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