Suburban Mom Blues

Life's so damn confusing.
Used to be amusing.
No more carefree musings
Or parties, late-night boozing.

Before responsibilities,
Was proud of my abilities.
No worrying 'bout utilities
Just workplace capabilities.

But these days I feel so lazy.
Wasting whole days doesn't phase me.
My identity is hazy.
Maybe I'll do something crazy.

What if I dye my hair blue
Or another shocking hue?
Why not get a new tattoo?
But what good would that do?

Should be cleaning but I'm not,
Cuz I'm on Facebook quite a lot.
And our dinner's rarely hot.
Need a Jetson's maid-robot.

I entertain but it's for shit.
I'm just no damn good at it.
I've misplaced my charm and wit.
Should hang it up for a bit.

Getting old's a losing race.
I've become a big disgrace.
What's happened to my face?
Lines deepen; they won't erase.

Forever moisturizing.
My reflection--analyzing.
Toning and exercising,
Yet my body's still capsizing.

Grasp Mommy's little helper--a lie.
A temporarily brighter sky,
But when at last the bottle runs dry,
Time to face reality, and try.

Try to be less demanding,
Not quite so reprimanding,
A little less commanding,
And way more understanding.

The self-doubt, I'm confessing,
Is ever present--oppressing.
It weighs heavy, so distressing,
And I'm struggling, stressing...

Whether things will stay the same,
If my confusion will remain.
But there's no one else to blame.
This trouble bears my name.