Being a Mom

Once you’re a mom, you’re committed for life;
You sign up for joy and you sign up for strife.
One minute, from diapers, you’re wiping up poop;
Then he’s grown-up and sick and you’re making him soup.
The thing is, those feelings that tugged at your heart,
The ones that appeared, magically, from the start,
Do not disappear – they continue to grow;
You forget other things, but this one thing you know.
You’ll worry, you’ll fret, you’ll lose sleep and you’ll mutter,
Imagining that your child’s dead in the gutter,
Or killed by a car, a disease, or the flu;
It’s better if these thoughts your kid never knew.
But it’s hard to stop all this mothering worry.
Our children, despite us, grow up in a hurry.
Yet even adults may, just once in a while,
Need moms around, with chicken soup and a smile;
And if you’re a mom, you won’t think twice to heed
The call of your child, any age, who’s in need.