There is a bitterness in motherhood

A competition that my husband didn’t know he was participating in

Which is wildly unfair

But I struggle to stop it

I create tally marks in my mind of how many hot cups of coffee he gets to consume

While I am home with my cup that has been microwaved three times over

I am silently adding hours that he spends on a quiet car ride to work

While my four children bicker and squabble about stolen markers and who gets the next turn breaking eggs into the frying pan

I asked for this

I practically begged for this many babies

And I spend every day thankful for them

I really do

Sometimes I cry after bedtime just thinking about how much they are growing and changing

Sometimes I cry thinking about what I could have done differently that day.

And my sweet husband

The one that I quietly battle each day without his knowledge

Rubs my back in the darkness

Reminds me that I am a good mother

Tells me to sleep in on the weekend

Plants kisses on our sleepy-eyed children in their footy pajamas when morning comes

Brings me a hot cup of coffee and sets it on the bedside table

And even though I don’t want to

Even when I know it is wildly unfair

And bitchy

I place a single tally mark on my side of the invisible scorecard

And sip my coffee in the quiet of my bedroom.