Ode to Mothers Everywhere

I crawl out of bed as the sun slowly rises
I take a deep breath and prepare for surprises
Each morning brings all kinds of interesting news
And there's always a voice asking, "Where are my shoes?"

Now fresh out of bed is my five-year-old daughter
She's taken a bath in the Negel Vasser* water
The two-year-old is helping to clean up the mess
By sopping it up with my one Shabbat dress

And here comes a child with a wide-eyed stare
Who informs me he has chewing gum in his hair
But another disaster has just caught my eye
My three-year-old's flopped off the couch, trying to fly

Now into the kitchen I venture to see
Corn flakes and Cheerios up to my knee
"I make a big mountain," my two year old brags
As I bend down to pick up the two empty bags

And the nine-year-old, still in her jammies of course
Needs her mother to draw her a jumping black horse
And the baby is sporting a shiny new bruise
And a small background voice calls out "Where are my shoes?"

Now my eight-year-old's searching with pain in his face
For his glasses are not in their usual place
And of course he can't find them because he can't see
So to remedy this he is coming to me

But the doorbell is ringing, my neighbor has come
She needs Band-Aids; her daughter has just scraped her thumb
So I dole out Band-Aids, I'd never refuse
As someone else yells frantically "Where are my shoes?"

"Come quick!" cries a voice in a tone of despair
"There's a flood, and the water has gushed everywhere!"
Sure enough in the bathroom our trusty commode
Has had too many tissues and it's overflowed

And as a result of this latest disaster
The ceiling and the walls are now shedding their plaster
And deep in my throat a great shriek is suppressed
As I go to check out if the troops are all dressed

One child's got a uniform, almost complete
Except for the wrong color tights on her feet
And one has a shirt on but no pants in sight
'Cause his brother has taken them during a fight

She's missing a button; he can't find a snack
And another's in tears `cause his socks are not black
There are no pairs of tzitzis they're able to use
And someone is bellowing, "WHERE ARE MY SHOES?"

The buses are coming; the mad dash has started
They're grabbing their jackets and now they've departed
This one left her homework, that one left his snack
So I run out the door to find them running back

Well, wonder of wonders they're finally gone
And I've only been toiling since just before dawn
All I hear now are my sweet baby's coos
And an echo that's whispering "Where are my shoes?"

My mind wanders off to a time far away
When my skin's full of wrinkles, my hair has turned gray
And my bifocals help me to see far and near
And I win the award for the 'Mom of the Year'

A special committee will greet me that day
"You've been chosen as `Mom of the Year," they will say
We've got lots of good reasons; they're here in this file
I'll read it in silence and then I will smile

"For changing their diapers and wiping their noses
For thanking the kids when they brought you dead roses
For sewing their buttons and curing their blues
For kissing their boo-boos and finding their shoes."

*Negel vasser is the cup of water used to wash one's hands in the morning upon waking.