Oh my lovely children who I love so dear,
Are becoming little fuckers I am starting to fear,
What the stay at home mothers who make every darn thing,
Will think of me now because I am so ming,
Always covered in stains and hairs out of place,
I wish I had time to do up my face.
The relentless, endless, competitive playdates,
Neurotic mum’s, who dictate their child’s mates,
It’s hard enough having a child,
And then depriving them of being too wild,
No TV, no sugar, no scooting too far,
Judgement day beckons as I do the pick up by car.
I’ve decided that I won’t try to compete with those tiger mum’s,
I’d rather be happy and have a big tum.
My house has become a chaotic mess,
As I run around trying to find a clean dress,
Between the piles of endless shit,
I must keep going to find one that fits,
Finally see one and check it for stains,
As I look across the room I see my son starting to strain.
No, no, no – not on the floor I need to leave to catch my train,
Now I’ll be late and stinky again,
I wish the little bastard would just use the loo,
To save me from having to pick up his poo,
I heard dysentery is making a come back,
Probably due to all us mothers dealing with crap.
Welcome to motherhood, it’s far from fun,
But just remember you’re not the only one.