Moms Are Just Like Everybody Else, See?

A mother's alarm clock: a baby crying in his crib. 

A mother's breakfast: whatever the kids didn't eat, right off their plates. Oh, and lots of coffee.

A mother's morning workout: mopping the kitchen floor after milk breaks free from bowls of cereal and runs rampant across the floor.  For an extra boost: she chases her toddler around the house trying to retrieve her cell phone.

A mother's shower time: running one brush through her hair, and another one over her teeth.

A mother's morning psychology practice: hostile negotiations between her 3 year old and the dog. (Most psychologists don't have to cuddle with their patients afterwards though.)

A mother's lunch: one slice of pizza that her youngest already ate the toppings from. Also, possibly more coffee.

A mother's downtime: sleeping face first in a pile of clean laundry while the children nap.

A mother's daily intelligent conversation: "Mom.  Mom.  Mom.  Mom.  MOM.  MOM.  MOM.  MOM! MOM! MOM!"  "What?!?!?" "I love you."

A mother's paycheck: any loose change she finds floating around in the washer.

A mother's cleaning routine: she doesn't want to talk about that right now.  But if you are lending an ear... She JUST picked up the living room!  She swears!  It just doesn't look like it because she lives with savages. 

A mother's bills: she doesn't want to talk about that, either.

A mother's dinner: finally, a real meal.  It might be slightly cold because she is the last one to eat, but that's okay.

A mother's rescheduled shower time: getting thoroughly soaked by the baby splashing in the tub.

A mother's nightly novel: Whales' Tails and Turtle Trails by  Tammy Lee. 

A mother's bed time: blankets that actually cover her whole body and one half page of a novel from the adult section at the library.  She would love... to read... more... but...