Being a mom is freakin’ hard.

Dear Son #1, #2, & #3,  

I’m going to start this off by saying I love you three like crazy and I love being your mom. I love the fun we have together, I love how stinking cute you all are and I love how you make me laugh.  

But sometimes being a mom is freakin’ hard.  

The other day I came across this shirt I got when I was first pregnant, because seriously, how could I resist?


And I thought, well yeah those are all VERY true but I think I’m going to get a different shirt made… 


Messy – Oh we do our best to keep ourselves, our habitats and our offspring clean and tidy. We bathe, we tidy, we clean, we shower, and we do laundry, but it’s all in vain. By the end of the day we are all usually covered in snot, spit up, dirt, diaper cream, peanut butter and jam, ketchup (always ketchup), suspicious wet spots which we don’t think are water, hopefully melted chocolate, and blood, sweat and tears (sometimes yours, sometimes ours).  

Soft – I’m not talking about our behavior because no one messes with Mama Bear. I’m talking about our middles which we have you to thank for. Say what you want on every Dove commercial going that a Mrs. Doubtfire tummy is a badge of honor, stretch marks are beautiful and perkiness is overrated; sometimes I just miss my old body.  

Terrified – We’re not just terrifying but we’re terrified too. This is a short list off the top of my head of things that I am terrified of when it comes to you boys:
Swimming pools, ponds, roads, cars, strangers, ticks, knives, scissors, dogs, high furniture, stairs, permanent markers, stoves, concrete patios and hot cups of tea.
Not to mention all the stuff that terrifies us moms 20, 30, 40 years from now which I won’t go into. We’re a scared bunch. 

Exhausted – We’re mentally exhausted from answering the same questions 23 times, giving out 54 time outs, breaking up 238 fights, watching 3,054 episodes of Paw Patrol and having 650,440 arguments about why the sand has to stay in the sandbox. We’re physically exhausted from changing, feeding, carrying, being climbed on, lifting, squatting, not sleeping, chasing, fitting into places we shouldn’t and bending over to pick up Hot Wheels Cars. We’re emotionally exhausted from worrying about the above list of things we’re scared of.
And that’s all before lunch time. 

Repetitive – As admirable as it is that you all have these independent streaks in you I think I’m going to have to start recording the following sayings before I go mental from repeating them a million times a day:
“Pieter leave William alone.”
“William leave Pieter alone.”
“Leave Alexander alone.”
“That’s the wrong foot.”
“No you are not watching a show.”
“No, you are not having a treat.”
“Eat your supper.”
“Go pee.”
“Go play.”
“Go. To. Bed.”

Crazy – You’ll never meet anyone crazier than a mom. True story. We’ve seen it all, done it all, said it all, touched it all, smelt it all, heard it all and we’ve come out slightly unhinged because of it.  

Do we dwell on this? Nope, there’s too many other fun things to do like butts to wipe and stains to remove. Besides, it makes it all worth it when you turn to us and say, “I love you Mommy”. 

Dammit, here’s a cookie. 

Love Mommy,  



2 thoughts on “Being a mom is freakin’ hard.”

  1. Dearest Amy,
    Being a Mom especially a wonderful one like you is very hard!
    You do an amazing job every day and it shows with how Happy and Independent your boys are❤️
    Some day in the future this will all seem so distant, so relish every moment, the smiles and those irresistible grins!
    Pieter Senior is also pretty good at doing that Dad thing as well 😀

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Amy: This made me smile and cry all at the same time. Your honesty, intuition and humor on raising 3 boys is beautiful and for you to know there is rainbows at the end of the chaos is the truth. From a survivor of raising 3 boys, Judy

    Liked by 1 person

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