7am wake up time for a mommy, a mommy who wants to make sure that not only do her household responsibilities are taken care of but also her own life exists. That’s right, exists, in the sway of life not only does everyone else forget that we moms are human beings, but they forget to appreciate us.

Then the society wonders how so many women are joining the workforce, well, it’s simple isn’t it, a human being unlike an animal looks for appreciation, motivation, and intellectual healing to move forward each day and do the endless lists of chores for another 24 hours cycle. Moms fall through the cracks. They don’t get appreciated, at work they do because that’s work culture. You motivate your colleagues and you get the same in return. Why has this humanistic value been lost in the household, where the work is the hardest, most unpredictable, and ever so exhausting with no pay or vacation?

So the mom starts to think about herself, some start early on in their mommy hood, some lucky ones know beforehand that they need to maintain sanity via investment in self. Some new fools struggle, struggle for years till they finally figure out that no one cares, and no one’s going to make anything happen for them in return for the slaving she does. It’s not about being pessimistic, it’s about being realistic. And for many the realization comes in a form of regret. A regret they live with in their final few years of life wondering what the hell went wrong, and when. How did life pass by? The kids are old and on their own, lives of many have moved on while you sit saddened by the open nest syndrome, alone in your psychological mess. You’re alone, you always were, and it’s just that you realize it now without the camaraderie of kids around. You, always existed, but you didn’t stop to give yourself respect.

The worst is today’s culture, the compulsion of comparison. The Facebook statuses, tweets, fabulous Instagram’s, the facade of the educated. The desperate need to feel and appear like a celebrity, not wanting attention just trying to deliver a fake story to the world. And while all do this, the moms sit looking at their unwed, still in great shape friends and wonder. They wonder many things, many thoughts; many feelings pass through their overly sensitive mommy hearts. Then they breathe a sigh. A sigh that is often confusing, and then right when they try to figure it out “mommy” yells the kid.

It’s very difficult being a mother, be it a single parent or one with husband. What you do, is phenomenal. It can’t be expressed in words, and you better know that. Know also, that you have more to deliver to the world than kids. Take that aptitude test, continue that education, revisit that craft, and take control of what was first yours-YOUR LIFE.