By Krystal Sieben 
My dear family. I love you. With my entire being. Today though, I’m crabby. I understand that a mother’s work sometimes looks different . . . hidden. Maybe it’s because after decades of motherhood and balancing all the things, mothers have become quite adept at “doing it all” or “making it look so easy.” I’m lucky, you all (especially you, husband) tell me how appreciative you are for my efforts. And I appreciate that. But here’s the thing—I need you all to pay close attention here—when it looks as though I’m doing nothing, I’m actually doing a lot.
Case in point: Me sitting with a coffee while on my phone. It seems like interrupting this moment with questions, favors, a story about your nightmare, the dog needing to go out, what time will dinner be ready, and all the things is fine because I’m simply sitting there having coffee and looking at my phone. It is only 7:02 a.m. after all. But I am a mom, so here is what I’m actually doing in these quiet moments with my coffee . . .
Sending donuts to the teachers who seamlessly navigate our son’s special needs; a thank you to the lovely principal who kindly helped our other son with a bullying issue; looking up how long it will take me to get from school drop off to the nature center field trip; making a mental note to bring “women supplies” because why wouldn’t Aunt Flo make an appearance on a day of standing outside in the rain at the nature center; sending a text to my husband’s best friend confirming a dinner I arranged; RSVPing my daughter to a birthday party. getting online precisely at 7:00 on the dot because summer camp registration opened this morning, and by 7:01, all the good camps will be full; ordering grocery delivery because I was too busy to go yesterday; texting pictures to my father-in-law; confirming a date night sitter; checking on what shirt my daughter is supposed to wear for spirit wear this week.
This is a snapshot of what exactly I’m doing as I sit in the chair with my coffee. None of this you can see obviously. It’s not like when dad wears his suit or has his papers out at the counter. It’s not like I leave and go to my job, where I’m away. I’m right here. Right with you. But I’m always working. Trying. Organizing. Administering. Mothering.
And when I’m short or occasionally crabby, it’s because all of my work and effort is invisible—behind the scenes—so you all forget or don’t notice, or you assume I’m not busy. I get it. I’m sure I did it too.
So, family, when you see me in the chair with my phone having coffee, 99 percent of the time I’m actually doing something for you, something that involves you.
Could I ask a favor? Go ask Dad, or better yet, figure it out yourself. Let the dog out. Put the toys away, tell each other that story about video games. I swear when I’m done I’ll get up and do all the things. But sitting down on the phone with my coffee, doing “nothing” is what I need to do to keep things running. Can you help me out?
Love, Mom
by Tricia Arthur 
by Jelise Ballon 
