A Mother's Job

A Mother's Job

written by Justina Braun

She wakes up early each morning and finds her shoes,

Shortly after, a menu she finds for a meal to choose.

In the breakfast section is her first meal to construct,

And not too soon after, the aroma sails through the air duct.

This of course greets the nostrils of the peaceful sleepers.

The smell of bacon and eggs in the air is a faster wake-up call than a beeper.

She hears the footsteps on the stairs as she sets the table,

And after all have settled down, their voices go up in praise as their hearts are able.

Just as soon as the meal is done, the table gets cleared.

She watches the children make a dash for the bus and disappear.

As she turns around, away from the window, she hears the dishes call her name.

And of course if they didn't get done, it would become her shame.

She takes out the chicken to thaw ahead of time for lunch,

And decides to make a little treat to send to school for snack after lunch.

She turns on the oven, and puts all ingredients into a bowl,

And once it's perfectly mixed, it gets pasted into a pan and rolled.

The oven beeper goes off, which means the oven is hot.

In go the rolls, and she hopes to forget not.

She looks at the clock, and notices it's time.

She'll have to hurry make lunch to make it on time.

She uses her thawed chicken to make a casserole,

And opens the oven to check on the baked rolls.

Out go the rolls and in goes the casserole for lunch.

And oh no, she forgot to make the kool-aid punch.

 Once again, table is set and lunch is ready and served.

The food disappearing faster than made is not hard to observe.

She packs the treats and hands out to each one a pack,

Then off to school the kids go, and everything is back on track.

She realizes her day is half over, and million things need to get done.

She can't start painting just yet, because the paint is gone.

So out comes the sewing machine to clear the pile of ripped clothes,

And hurry finish mending, so as to not have them out grown.

The children come home from school, and she reminds them of their chores.

They eat their snacks and then start sweeping and mopping the floors.

She then decides to make something light for supper, and yet something not too hasty.

She pulls out leftovers that are heated up, and the table is set with something tasty.

That night, once her children were put to bed and sound asleep,

She recalculated her day and felt tired and ready to weep.

Yes, today was finish, but tomorrow was another day to come,

She closed her eyes, and started dreaming of tomorrows pie with plums!