An Ode to Motherhood

I see you with your messy hair from a sleepless night with a restless babe in your arms, tear-soaked pj’s still being worn the next day with that same babe that is bright-eyed and ready to greet the rising sun.

I hear the stumbling of your 6:30 am wake-up call with a cold cup of coffee by 7, and another at 10, noon, and by 3 pm that same (or fourth) cup of coffee that can probably be found somewhere around the house, still full, or in the microwave, still cold….

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