The day has come yet again to pay homage to the ladies that have endured a life time’s worth of quite possibly the most taxing work anyone could go through.
It all begins when she realizes that something isn’t quite normal. Maybe it’s when the day comes that she doesn’t quite feel right. Or maybe it’s when she realizes that a certain monthly scheduled event doesn’t happen.
That may lead to taking a little home test, which leads to a life changing, very emotional plus sign on a little stick.
That then leads to a visit at the doctor’s office where she’s informed that, yep, sure enough, she’s pregnant, with you.
Her life, as she knows it is about to permanently change. First she’s going to have to change a few habits. Maybe she has to change the way she eats, maybe even drop a bad habit or two for the sake of both her health and yours.
Then as the months move on, her body gradually changes, transforming, swelling, and contorting in ways that under any other circumstance would be considered cruel and inhumane torture.
Sleep becomes hard to come by. The sicknesses wreak havoc on her, and hormone levels go so out of whack that she might possibly cease to know if she’s coming or going.
The slightest problem can send her into an emotional frenzy, requiring more patience from those around her than they might be used to giving.
Time continues to move on and her body may be swollen beyond points even thought possible. All because of the little parasite growing inside her that is you.
Then comes the day when the little parasite you has developed to a point where that warm comfortable womb can no longer sustain you, and she goes into labor.
That’s when the fireworks really go off, as she’s rushed to the hospital, an event that’s quite normally surrounded by more chaos and confusion then rush hour traffic in New York City.
Then as she’s wheeled into a delivery room, she experiences a level of pain that no words could possibly describe, as she’s coached and encouraged to somehow push an object the size of a watermelon out of an opening roughly the size of a lemon.
Some victims of this ordeal may even have to be cut open to allow the little watermelon that is you at this point to pass with relative safety into this cold, cruel and harsh world.
Either way, chances are she’s now physically scarred for the rest of her life.
Then as the event passes, she then finds herself holding in her arms the bouncing baby melon that only minutes before was quite literally a part of her.
Ah, but the torture doesn’t stop there does it?
No ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, she now has to somehow teach you how to be a productive, responsible human being in this society.
A daunting task that fewer than we may realize actually succeed in.
While she’s doing that, she has to put up with the selfish, and sometimes violent phase of the terrible two’s.
And don’t even get me started on trying to raise and connect with a teenager.
She may have to deal with a streak of criminal behavior that for some reason developed in you.
Or you might otherwise be a good kid, but, such as in my case, you’re just a little shit head that won’t keep his school grades up.
Notice I didn’t say can’t. I said won’t.
Still paying for that to this day I am.
But then it all comes full circle as you reach adult hood, and she gets to be there for you as you go through the same thing. As she’s there by your side, she smiles inwardly, and remembers.
So to the top three mothers on my list, being my own, my sister, and my Fiance’, whom some of you already know, I say Happy Mothers day ladies. I love you!
And to those of you who’s mother’s are still with us to appreciate, or at least have a significant mother in your life, and as this day draws to a close and you still have yet to so much as pick up that phone, I ask this;
What kind of a heartless monster are you??
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