And Sex Week concludes with this final meditation dedicated to all of you hot mamas out there, working hard to keep your heart and soul together while changing diapers and changing the world:
Ode to the Mamas
If only you could see yourself
How beautiful and tender and true you are
How lovely in moments of swearing and lust
and grocery shopping and frozen pizza making
In doubting and depression and frustration and despair
How beautiful you are
with your secret shame and your hopes for the world
with your silliness and your smarts
your naughty duplicitous heart
and your truest marital devotion
How lovely and sweet you are
with your complexities and vulnerability all shot through
with hormones and cookies and flat comfy shoes.
You are a mama, woman, child, sister, lover
You deserve the world
Are you spying on me? Everything from the frozen pizza making to the swearing (oh, the swearing!) and the doubting, you’ve captured my days, weeks, months…everything in this poem.
I’m gonna go raise a glass of something in honor of this magnificent oeuvre of yours…
Have a good weekend!
When DID we go from the sexy heels to the flat comfy shoes?
I agree with Paige — I’m off to have a glass of vino in your honor (and, hey, it’s by birthday weekend, so what better to kick it off?!)
RIGHT ON!!! RIGHT. ON.
THIS WAS BEAUTIFUL.
I LOVE THIS!!!
Thank you for this poem! Boy, does it really describe my life.
Annie
This was fanfuckingtastic! Did you write this? You should submit - really.
Someone (for the life, I can’t remember who) once told me that motherhood means opening your chest wide open for the world to see your insides… and being prepared to mend again every time you get stuck in a soft spot for your troubles. Thanks, Rae. This was exactly the misty-eyed giggle I needed today.
Now if you’ll excuse me? I must go convince Jack that the dog? Is NOT in fact candy-filled pinata that he should attempt to split open.