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My coffee is always cold.

Ironic since I’m currently drinking it out of a mug labeled “Hot Stuff”.

And why is my coffee always cold? Because I’m a mom.

I start my morning with a nice, piping hot cup, like something straight out of a Folgers commercial. The stream rises and that first sip warms my soul. It’s heavenly . . . at least for a moment. Because that moment soon gives way to a flurry of motherhood duties.

“MOM!! Where are my shoes?! And I can’t find my bookbag!”

“Mom, I want apple juice! No, not that cup! The blue one!”

“Honey, I’m going to be late!” my husband yells from upstairs. “Can you put those papers on the table in my briefcase and grab a Red Bull from the fridge for me?”

Everyone rushes out the door, with me lagging behind, turning off lights and locking up. A mile down the road, I realize I’ve forgotten my coffee. It sits on the counter, in front of the Keurig, awaiting my return.

I make it home 30 minutes later and pop it in the microwave. And so begins another song and dance of busyness that keeps me from drinking it while still warm.

There are bills to pay, emails to catch up on, voicemails to return, and a mound of laundry to start. I don’t ever make it back to that warm cup of coffee. I usually end up pouring it out right before bedtime each night when I start the daunting task of tidying up the day’s mess. It sits on the end table next to my favorite spot on the couch all day. Neglected. Cold. Never fulfilling its job.

One day, I will drink hot coffee again.

I’ll sit down one morning with that steaming cup, and I’ll drink the whole thing. And I’ll wait for the sounds of morning to begin. For footsteps on stairs. For yelling. For their needs to be listed off to me, one by one.

But I won’t hear those sounds, for my children will be gone, and the days of needing me each morning will be no more.

I will mourn what once was. The days of being their everything.

On that day, I’ll long for that cold cup of coffee.

This article was originally published on Four Norths in the South

 

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Jade North

I'm the wife of one (sorry polygamists), mom of two, inching into the threes (30s). Join me as I struggle to navigate marriage and motherhood. Laughter may ensue . . . most likely at me!

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