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Time and time again, you will hear moms everywhere complain about how tired they are. It's kind of our "thing." Non-moms will smile and nod when they hear you complain for the third time in a week that it's a "Venti" kind of morning. They may even commiserate with you and tell you that they "get it." But they don't. Mom-tired is its own special mix of physical, emotional and mental exhaustion. So, why exactly are moms so f*cking exhausted all the time?
We have to feed a bunch of people, sometimes from our boobs, like multiple times a day. Every. Damn. Day.
We answer the question "why" at least 343 times a day.
We have to be nice and socialize with other parents we don't like for the sake of our children. And everyone knows socializing with people is so exhausting.
We are constantly grossed out by the fact that at any given moment we can be covered in another tiny human's bodily fluids. Sure, your 10-pound infant is the most adorable thing in the world, but being projectile-pooped-on by that adorable thing is gag-worthy every time.
We are constantly vacuuming Cheerios and scraping fruit snacks from our car floor mats.
We spend an hour and a half looking for a tiny My Little Pony figurine that our kid swore was not in their backpack. Then we watch our kid take a nap while we continue searching and then finally find the pony... in the f*cking backpack.
We hunt monsters out from their hiding spaces in closets and under beds in the wee hours of the night.
We have to sprint through the grocery store last-minute when we inevitably forget it was our day to be "snack mom."
We have to jump up and down with excitement about the questionable arts and crafts projects brought home from preschool. Yes, I totally see how that brown squiggle line and purple circle is an elephant dancing in the rain.
We are always chauffeuring kids around to back-to-back activities and playdates that they may or may not even want to go to.
We have to teach tiny human beings right from wrong and how to be a good person. Pressure much??
We always try to pretend to have our sh*t together, even when everything is falling apart.
We have to keep our kids clean, or at least keep them looking and smelling clean. Thank God for baby wipe "showers"!
We squeeze, suck and shimmy our way into clothes that aid in distracting from the omnipresent belly pooch.
We run around the house picking up toys that seem to magically regenerate.
We spend hours on the computer researching every rash, bite and funny-sounding cough that comes out of our child's mouth.
We lie awake worrying about everything.
We are filled with so much love that sometimes our hearts want to explode.
Yeah, no wonder we're exhausted. Yes, exhausted. But happy. And honestly, probably a little disheveled.