Twas the night before Thanksgiving, and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring… not even your spouse (who’s still snoring).
Twas the night before Thanksgiving, and Mom was still working.
The quiet house chaos was definitely lurking.
The children were dreaming of turkey and pie.
The clock ticked past midnight, with no end in sight.
She was chopping the onions, the carrots, the day’s prep—
Trying to squeeze every last second of sleep-saving help.
She moved through the kitchen, scrubbing the sink,
Knowing full well no one would notice, you think?
She polished the door knobs, then dusted the light shades.
She cleaned behind cushions and scrubbed the rug grades.
Absurd little spots that no guest ever bothers,
But Mom needs the peace that this weird effort gathers.
She checked on the fridge, calculated the space.
Where will the leftovers go? It’s a logistical race!
She wrapped all the platters with cling wrap and foil.
“Don’t touch this!” she muttered, protecting her toil.
She stood in the quiet, one hand on her hip,
Checking the schedule, about to flip.
(Did I brine? Did I thaw? Did I remember the rolls?)
She finished her list, turned off the bright light.
Tripped over a toy, then finally felt right.
She knew the long night meant she had done her best.
Tomorrow was chaos, but at least she was blessed.
So here’s to the moms burning that midnight wick!
May your Thanksgiving be frantic, funny, and quick.
Just A Mom Trying 
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