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You see me at the school gates, we look almost exactly the same.
Almost exactly, but not quite.
Our Toms match, and so do our jeans. But you’ll never look at me long enough to notice.
I’ve got on a slick of red lipstick you see.
It’s terribly applied,
But you will never be able to tell, you never come that close.
It’s the only makeup I own, that and a cloggy mascara.
But I’ll never get to tell you that you see, you never speak to me.
You’ve assumed I have too much time on my hands.
And you’re right, I do. It’s only a
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minute you see. But I know.
When you are a mom, a minute to yourself is a minute too much.
A minute too selfish, a minute too vain and a minute too ”Me”.
Only a minute it took, to slick on that red.
Only a minute, I’ve managed to grab for myself, and already, I feel guilty.
And if I forget that guilt, if only for a moment, your look of disdain will remind me.
Do I dare to believe I deserve that minute? I’m not too sure, but I think maybe you think I don’t.
See when you are a mom minutes are precious.
Minutes add up, and you
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can do a lot with those minutes.
Take out the trash,
Wash the bottles,
Brush their teeth,
Brush your teeth,
Wipe their faces,
Wipe their butts,
Wipe your butt,
Cook their meals,
Read a story,
Tidy the toys,
Fold the laundry,
It only took a minute, but it’s a minute you don’t think I deserve. A minute I don’t think I have.
It is a minute I grabbed, in an attempt to remind myself I am still me, a mom above all else, but still me. An outward reminder of the inner me.
See it is only a minute, that’s the thing,
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a minute I spent doing something for myself after the countless minutes I spent doing things for my family.
Please do not begrudge me that. I am just as tired, just as overwhelmed and just as minuteless as you.
So let me not serve as a reminder of a minute lost, but as a promise of a minute gained.
A reminder that a minute grabbed for yourself is just as deserved as the countless minutes you spend on others.
Maybe next time, we can spend a minute together, talking, smiling and sharing, because a minute is all we have, before the school gates
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come crashing down and our little ones are back, to reclaim those minutes once again.
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Amel Osman - 17 Oct 16
You see me at the school gates, we look almost exactly the same.
Almost exactly, but not quite.
Our Toms match, and so do our jeans. But you’ll never look at me long enough to notice.
I’ve got on a slick of red lipstick you see.
It’s terribly applied,
But you will never be able to tell, you never come that close.
It’s the only makeup I own, that and a cloggy mascara.
But I’ll never get to tell you that you see, you never speak to me.
You’ve assumed I have too much time on my hands.
And you’re right, I do. It’s only a minute you see. But I know.
When you are a mom, a minute to yourself is a minute too much.
A minute too selfish, a minute too vain and a minute too “Me”.
Only a minute it took, to slick on that red.
Only a minute, I’ve managed to grab for myself, and already, I feel guilty.
And if I forget that guilt, if only for a moment, your look of disdain will remind me.
Do I dare to believe I deserve that minute? I’m not too sure, but I think maybe you think I don’t.
See when you are a mom minutes are precious.
Minutes add up, and you can do a lot with those minutes.
Take out the trash,
Wash the bottles,
Brush their teeth,
Brush your teeth,
Wipe their faces,
Wipe their butts,
Wipe your butt,
Cook their meals,
Read a story,
Tidy the toys,
Fold the laundry,
It only took a minute, but it’s a minute you don’t think I deserve. A minute I don’t think I have.
It is a minute I grabbed, in an attempt to remind myself I am still me, a mom above all else, but still me. An outward reminder of the inner me.
See it is only a minute, that’s the thing, a minute I spent doing something for myself after the countless minutes I spent doing things for my family.
Please do not begrudge me that. I am just as tired, just as overwhelmed and just as minuteless as you.
So let me not serve as a reminder of a minute lost, but as a promise of a minute gained.
A reminder that a minute grabbed for yourself is just as deserved as the countless minutes you spend on others.
Maybe next time, we can spend a minute together, talking, smiling and sharing, because a minute is all we have, before the school gates come crashing down and our little ones are back, to reclaim those minutes once again.
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Amel Osman is a journalist and self proclaimed Selfull Mama of one. She loves lying star shaped on sandy beaches with a hot dog in hand. When she is not busy adjusting her Facebook privacy settings to hide her posts from easily offended friends she can be found ranting on www.SelfullMama.com