10 Funny Rhyming Mother’s Day Poems for New Moms That Are So True It Hurts

The clock strikes three and you are awake, 🥱
My sanity hangs by a thread that might break.
You stare at the ceiling, refusing to blink,
While I slowly lose every thought I can think. 🍼

I rock and I shush in the dark of the room,
Accepting my fate in this nursery gloom.
You finally yawn and close your sweet eyes,
But wake up again at the very next sigh.

*Truth Bomb: This poem was written during a 4 AM blowout.*

I wrapped you up tight like a burrito of love, 🌯
With arms tucked securely in blankets above.
I patted your back and whispered goodnight,
Believing my skills were incredibly tight.

Ten minutes go past and I hear a loud grunt,
You’ve busted right out of the swaddling front.
Houdini himself would be shocked by this feat, 🪄
While I cry at the loss of my 10 minutes’ sleep.

*Truth Bomb: That velcro swaddle is louder than a jet engine at 2 AM.*

I turn on the water to finally wash hair, 🚿
And hear a faint wail coming out of the air.
I peek out the curtain, shampoo in my eyes,
Convinced I am hearing your desperate cries.

But husband is snoring and baby is fine,
My brain has just broken the concept of time. 😵‍💫
I step back right in to the hot water stream,
Accepting this shower is only a dream.

*Truth Bomb: Phantom crying is the postpartum brain’s absolute favorite prank.*

We finally settled the fussing and tears, 🤫
A silence I haven’t quite heard in some years.
You suck on the binky with rhythmic delight,
And I pray that you keep it all through the night. 🌙

But suddenly spit flies and out goes the plug,
It bounces and rolls underneath the big rug.
The screaming resumes at a volume so loud,
I wish I could vanish right into a cloud.

*Truth Bomb: You will gladly crawl on a dirty floor to find that piece of silicone.*

The birds start to chirp at the edge of the dawn, 🌅
I sit in the glider, incredibly drawn.
I haven’t quite slept since the sun went away,
And now I must start a completely new day. ☕

You look up and smile with a gummy little grin,
Forgiving the fact that you put me in a spin.
I kiss your soft head and I sigh in defeat,
This tired new life is exhaustingly sweet.

*Truth Bomb: That early morning smile is a biological defense mechanism.*

A sudden rumble shakes your tiny frame, 💩
Yellow stains creep up past your neck.
This organic cotton was twenty-five dollars,
Now it belongs to the garbage truck. 🧼

*Truth Bomb: You aren’t “cleaning” that onesie, you’re just throwing it away.*

I pull off the tab and the cool air hits, 🌬️
A fountain of gold arches into the sky.
It lands on the wall, the rug, and my face,
I guess I am washing the curtains today. 💦

*Truth Bomb: Always deploy the emergency wipe shield before exposing the target.*

I sit by the door with my leash in my mouth, 🐕
While you stare at the screaming potato.
I haven’t been petted since Tuesday afternoon,
But I’ll eat the dropped cheerios to help out. 🦴

*Truth Bomb: The dog is silently judging your modern parenting methods.*

We dressed in our best for a simple store trip, 🎯
You lasted exactly four minutes inside.
A screaming red face in the produce aisle,
I abandoned the cart and we fled to the car. 🚗

*Truth Bomb: Curbside pickup is the greatest invention of the modern era.*

We finally zipped up the fleece winter suit, ❄️
Strapped tightly into the complicated seat.
A wet squishy sound echoes from the back,
We are not leaving this house anymore. 🏠

*Truth Bomb: Blowouts only happen when you are already running ten minutes late.*

I locked the bathroom door today, 🚿
To keep the crying sounds at bay.
A ten-minute hot shower break,
Is the only vacation I can take. 🧼

*Truth Bomb: A shower is not a spa day, it is a basic human right.*

I spray dry shampoo on my head, 🧴
Because I’d rather stay in bed.
My messy roots are turning gray,
But I’ll pretend I’m fine today. ✨

*Truth Bomb: Your hair is currently 80 percent aerosol spray and pure hope.*

These stretchy pants are colored black, 👖
To hide the spit-up on the back.
I haven’t worn real jeans all year,
Because buttons cause me genuine fear. 🍼

*Truth Bomb: You are never actually going to a yoga class in those pants.*

We walk for miles around the park, 🌳
Until the sky gets cold and dark.
It’s not for fresh air or the trees,
I just want a moment’s peace. 🎧

*Truth Bomb: The fresh air is just an excuse to wear sunglasses and ignore people.*

You tell me to enjoy this stage, 🛑
While I contain my inward rage.
This sleepless phase is really tough,
And loving you is quite enough. 💩

*Truth Bomb: It is perfectly okay to not enjoy the 3 AM screaming fits.*

I poured a fresh cup at the start of the day, ☕
But toddler demands got completely in the way.
I set it right down on the edge of the sink,
Without taking even a singular drink. 🌀

At ten I remembered my lukewarm old friend,
And nuked it right back to a boil again.
But then someone cried and a diaper was filled,
My freshly warmed coffee completely got chilled.

It’s now afternoon and the cycle repeats,
A caffeinated waltz through my kitchen retreats.
I sip the dark sludge with a sigh and a frown,
And finally gulp the cold mystery down. 🧊

*Truth Bomb: That coffee has been reheated four times and is still cold.*

I gather my hair in a tangled up nest, 🪮
Ignoring the fact that I clearly need rest.
I secure it up high with a stretched-out hair tie,
And hope that it stays as the hours go by. 👑

A baby hand reaches and pulls on a strand,
Destroying the masterpiece perfectly planned.
The flyaways stick to the sweat on my face,
While I try to survive in this chaotic space.

It serves as a crown for the tired and weak,
A sign I have passed the exhaustion peak.
I wear it with pride though it looks like a fright,
And sleep in the exact same bun through the night. 🌙

*Truth Bomb: Taking out that hair tie will cause genuine structural damage.*

I saw you get dressed in your favorite jeans, 👖
The ones you have kept since you lived in your teens.
I noticed you painted your tired old toes,
And put on a shirt that practically glows. ✨

I knew right away what I needed to do,
To ruin this outing completely for you.
I drank down my milk with a satisfied gulp,
And spit it all up in a sour white pulp. 🍼

It landed right smack on your beautiful chest,
Confirming that staying at home is the best.
You sigh and change back to your leggings of gray,
Happy Mother’s Day Mom, you’re welcome today. 🥰

*Truth Bomb: Babies have a built-in radar for dry-clean-only fabrics.*

I strap myself in like a dairy cow queen, 🐄
Attached to this noisy and rhythmic machine.
It whirs and it clicks with a terrible sound,
While I stare at the drops barely hitting the ground. 💧

I calculate ounces and measure the flow,
Praying the bottles will continue to grow.
I lean entirely forward to get the last drop,
Hoping the beeping will finally stop. 🛑

The parts must be washed and completely sterilized,
A tedious chore that I strongly despise.
I pack up the flanges and tubes in a bag,
And try not to let my low energy sag.

*Truth Bomb: Crying over spilled breastmilk is completely valid and expected.*

I lowered you down in the crib with great care, 🛏️
And paused for a moment to quietly stare.
You didn’t quite flinch and you didn’t quite wake,
Now I must decide on the moves I should make. 🥷

I step on the floorboard and hear a loud creak,
My heart drops right down and I dare not to speak.
I freeze like a statue carved out of pure stone,
Terrified you will let out a loud moan. 🤫

I crawl on my belly right out of the door,
Sweeping the dust with my face on the floor.
I made it outside and I breathe a huge sigh,
Then look at the monitor and watch you cry. 📺

*Truth Bomb: Floorboards only ever squeak when a sleeping baby is in the room.*