Family, Moms, Moms4Moms, Mother's Day

Join the Moms’ Service International Union

Strike Sign

Strike Sign It’s Mother’s Day.

For many moms, it is one of the rarest of rare days – when you might get to put your feet up for at least a few minutes. When you might even get to enjoy breakfast in bed. (“Enjoy” is a relative term here. Breakfast in bed somewhat resembles a Cirque du Soleil act, with various balancing contortions involved to keep coffee from spilling on the comforter.)

I know you are worried about the mess in the kitchen that is happening in your honor. Well, then, just don’t look in your kitchen.

Easier said than done, isn’t it?

Fellow moms, we might complain about the mess in the kitchen. And about never getting to relax.

About rarely getting a good night’s sleep.

About being the go-to booger wiper, vomit cleaner, encouragement generator, and last-minute-class-pageant-costume-creator.

But would we really trade it in?

Would we dare to organize a Moms’ Strike? Would we dare to organize the Moms’ Service International Union?

Why shouldn’t we? As this fun video of interviews for the “Worlds Toughest Job” lays it out, moms work 135 hours a week, and even more. No breaks are available, even for sleep. If you’re hungry? “You can have lunch, but only when the associate is done having their lunch.”

And my personal favorite from the pseudo-job interview: “If you had a life, we’d ask you to give that life up.”

All for no pay.

This sounds like what the work world was like before labor unions, workplace safety, and a 40-hour workweek were created.

Before people died in the name of humane workplace conditions.

This sounds exhausting. Demoralizing. Soul-sucking.Pancakes

So why do we moms get all misty-eyed when we talk about our kids?

It’s more than the endless hours, the menial tasks, and the teachable moments.

Go ahead. Now you can look in the kitchen.

Look beyond the mess. You’ll see smiles. Laughter. You’ll see the concentration it takes to pour orange juice carefully.

There’s something else in your scrambled eggs, besides little bits of shell. You don’t have to look hard to see the love, and pride, and the hope that Mommy loves her breakfast in bed.

Sounds like a great job to me.

Happy Mother’s Day!