Why do I bother?

Why do I bother?

Why do I take this mothering job so freeking seriously?

Why do I push and push, and try and try 

so that he has a better life, makes better choices;

How can I open his eyes to see the things that I see,

So he doesn’t have to suffer what I have suffered?

Why is mothering so painful?

Why does he take it so lightly?

Why do I care so damn, so incredibly much…

Having interference makes it that much harder.

He has something or someone to compare me to…

“they don’t do it that way; why do you do it that way?"

Everything is called into question; 

and he feels he has the right to question me

On everything.

I’m too intense.

I care too much.

It take it all way too seriously.

I am me; I can’t be another.

So how do I chill the fuck out?