A poem about the joys of being a mommy.

The telephone's ringing
The TV is blaring.
Sister is crying
'cause Brother's not sharing.
There's a spill on the carpet
that no one will claim.
There's no time for sitting
When Mommy's your name.

The laundry is folded
But not put away.
The dishes you just washed
are from yesterday.
Without any warning
your relatives came.
There's no getting caught up
when Mommy's your name.

You drive to the market
You drive to the school
You drive to the cleaners
You drive the carpool
You drive yourself crazy
It's really a shame.
There's no time for resting
when Mommy's your name.

To your bedroom you sneak
to find peace for a minute,
but your minute is over
before you begin it.
Your little one finds you
and thinks it's a game.
There's no time for hiding
when Mommy's your name.

At night as you kneel
to thank heaven above you,
An angel creeps in and says,
"Mommy, I love you."
You may not know glory or fortune or fame,
but what does it matter
when Mommy's your name?

Submitted by Jacey Reynolds, site owner of www.yourhappybaby.com, offering information on how to get your baby on a schedule and sleeping through the night.