The Ballad of a Southern Mama’s Life

I wake before the rooster crows,

With sleepy eyes and aching toes,

A coffee cup clutched tight in hand,

The queen of this chaotic land.

The kids are up, the day begins,

A whirl of shoes and scattered bins,

“Where’s my shoe?” “Mom, what’s for lunch?”

And someone’s lost their favorite munch.

I holler down the hallway loud,

“Pick it up! Stop actin’ proud!”

But love is thick like Georgia clay,

We muddle through another day.

The porch is cluttered, sweet tea’s warm,

The breeze it hums a southern charm,

The rocking chair is stained with crumbs,

But here’s where peace and chaos hums.

The biscuits burn, the gravy spills,

The washing machine’s done all it wills,

The laundry mountain’s yet to fall,

But mama’s got to stand tall.

Oh, bless their hearts, those little feet,

They dance and stomp to their own beat,

With sticky hands and messy hair,

Life’s imperfections everywhere.

There’s joy in every spilled sweet tea,

And laughter rings like magnolia trees,

A house that’s loud and never neat,

Is where the world and heartbeats meet.

I’m not perfect, far from that,

I swear a little, lose my hat,

I hide in closets, need a break,

But give it all for love’s sweet sake.

The screen lights up with cartoons bright,

A well-earned peace in afternoon light,

But limits set, no all-day screen,

Gotta keep them sharp and keen.

Bedtime’s sacred, no debates,

With prayers whispered through the gates,

“Now hush your worries, close your eyes,

The stars will watch you ‘til sunrise.”

Fast food dinners sneak on nights,

When cooking just don’t feel quite right,

Chick-fil-A or Mickey D’s,

A mama’s quick and tasty peace.

Five more minutes, we all plead,

A timeless rule for those in need,

A Southern mama’s gentle lie,

To keep the chaos flying by.

Birthdays come with simple cheer,

No bounce house, no petting deer,

Just cupcakes, sprinkles, laughter sweet,

And neighbors gathered ‘round to greet.

Pajamas worn well past noon,

Dancing to a silly tune,

Because comfort wins the day,

In every single little way.

Bath nights missed, and that’s alright,

As long as hugs are tight at night,

Because clean ain’t always what we need,

It’s love that plants the lasting seed.

Candy bribes for little feet,

A mama’s weapon, oh so sweet,

It gets them moving, helps them cope,

A sugary, sticky slice of hope.

Sharing’s taught, but not enforced,

Some things can stay yours, of course,

Fries, toys, or that special doll,

Boundaries matter after all.

And sometimes mama needs to go,

To Target’s aisles, nice and slow,

A solo trip to clear her head,

Recharge the love, the words unsaid.

So here’s to mamas, messy, true,

Juggling life in all they do,

With hearts as big as southern skies,

And strength that shines from tired eyes.

No perfect plans, no scripted days,

Just love in all its wild ways,

A southern song, a mama’s grace,

In every smile, every embrace.

If you’re tired, worn, or feel alone,

Remember this, you’re not unknown,

We’re all in this, a rowdy crew,

Mama’s army, brave and true.

So raise your glass of sweet, sweet tea,

And toast the beautiful mess that’s we,

Because in the end, it’s clear to see,

Love’s the true prosperity.