The Mom Prayer: A Former Beauty Queen Turned Stay-at-Home Mom

I know that Moms are supposed to have all the answers, be calm under pressure, and achieve great feats mere mortals wouldn’t attempt. And I doâÂ?¦ for the most part.

Of course the hardest, most draining task is Worrying about Everything. The second hardest thing is a job so scary, so disgusting, and so perverse that it chills me to the bone. I spend days dreading it, hours fearing it, and minutes trying to avoid it. Nevertheless, it must be done.

The house seems to be holding its breath, as I begin the walk. My husband stands nearby where he salutes me, his eyes shinning, and a look that clearly says “I love you, be careful, and come back soon.” My children stand near by, their eyes shimmering with tears, they whisper among themselves “Is she really going to do it?” “I can’t believe it, she is.”

I walk down the hall, filled with pictures of my family and friends. All seem to be watching me, with fear in their eyes.

I take a deep breath, and gather my strength. I do a last minute inventory in my head, the reasons that it must be done (453) and the excuses to avoid it (1). There is no way out now. My legs start to shake, I feel weak and powerless, I try to summon my courage, but it seems to dessert me� yet I must go on.

I reach the door, and look back to my family once more, a tear shimmers down my cheek at the sight of them all huddled in the living room together, safe�

I began to pray:

Dear God, in your infinite wisdom, give me strength to do what must be done.

Give me the fortitude to keep on cleaning, no matter what I see. Please grant me the peace to accept what I cannot clean. Grant me wisdom to know where to start, and the fortitude to keep going. And please God, no matter what, let my sense of smell leave me for this time.

Amen

I throw open the door, but my mind rebels at the sight. I am shocked, horrified, and my simple mind just cannot process the shock of what I am seeing. I can’t make sense of the level of destruction. I see a naked Barbie doll, piles of dirty laundry, papers everywhere; there is an unidentifiable smell, and something green and sticky on the side of the dresser. Please let that be gum, yet it is not. There is a reason that my middle daughter got the nick name “booger” and I am looking at a weeks worth of work. I quickly stick my head between my knees and struggle not to pass out.

Slowly, with greater speed I began to clean the girl’s bedroomâÂ?¦ But I fear my fragile mind will never recover from the horrors I saw todayâÂ?¦

From the Kitchen Sink,

Heather Summerville

Freelance Humorologist