Today was one of those days where you really need to watch your step around me. I am on edge, crawling out of my skin and ready to fight. The kids? They can do no right. The husband? Don't even try. The PTA? Can I be any more antagonistic towards "the way things are done?" Usually, these days come and the family (and most friends) learn to just stay out of the way. Why the angst? Partially because I have been working really hard the last few weeks and it is taking a toll. And, partially because I have been stewing over a situation that I need to just release. For me--a recovering addict-- you cannot stay in a bad place for very long and come out unscathed. I just wanted to be left alone. Visions of solitude danced in my head as the evening approached. The kids rejoiced that it was Cereal for Dinner Night. But all thoughts of solitude or self-absorption were immediately wiped away with that one thing that can pull any mother out of a funk.

That blood curdling scream of her child in pain.

My six-year-old daughter slammed her hand in a door. It took me less than a nano-second to go from "Leave me alone" to "Come to me" when I heard her cries. Any thoughts of fatigue or "me time" vanished. All desire to be left alone were replaced with that undeniable energy and desire to help my child in pain.

As we examined her finger to see if she fractured it, I knew that my heart was beating as fast as hers was only with a little extra pounding because I am the Mom and I need to make this better for her. Right. Now. There came an amazing adrenaline rush as I was able to speed through the task of getting the ice, the Advil and the favorite stuffed animal all while wiping away tears of pain. Her physical pain. My heart breaking for her. They were matched only by the undeniable bond and knowledge that came from knowing I was needed in that moment. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

After she had her finger put in a splint and the tears had dried, suddenly, it didn't seem so awful being needed tonight. We curled into one another and read book after book until she fell asleep. Though being needed by so many people so often can be draining, there are some of those moments where you would never dream of being anywhere else. No matter what.

Liz of Mom 101 gets it. She had glorious plans to spend the night away from the responsibility of motherhood and family. (Away on business, but still...alone.) Her mind raced with the possibilities that lie ahead of her as her plane touched down. Dinner out. An entire movie in her hotel room. A full night's sleep. (Ahhh, that blissful full night's sleep after so many nights without one.) And then she got the call so similar to my hearing the scream.

In the cab, I got the call.

"Sage isn't eating."

"What do you mean she's not eating?"

"She hasn't eaten since you left this morning."

I did the math in my head - 8 hours. 8 hours and the baby who nurses every two hours hadn't eaten anything. She hadn't slept either.

Worry sets in. Finally, an IM saying she is eating. Then, a bit later, the cry out again. She is not eating. So, Liz does what so many of us do when we hear that cry out from one of our babies (through her father in this case of course) who needs us.

And so back to the hotel I went, grabbed the yet unpacked suitcase off the yet unslept on bed, glanced at the unturned on television and the unplundered minibar and headed straight back to the airport. Feeling like the bad mother who left her baby who won't eat or sleep. Feeling like the bad employee who can't stay for dinner. Feeling generally...what's that expression? Oh yeah, like shit.

That's what happens.

She is right. Because that's what happens.

While Liz waits for the plane to take her back to her child that needs her to help take away her misery and I cuddle up next to my child whose pain I could not take away but who did need my comfort, there is Liz of This Full House who is going through much the same situation that I was going through. After dealing with a migraine the day before and not fully bounced back yet, she was in no mood for motherhood and the demands and attitude that comes with it. She longed to do her own thing. Get lost in her own comforting, mundane ways.

Unfortunately, the kids aren’t going to be any happier with me - than I am with them, at the moment - for I seek comfort in mundane things…like, getting down with the Dirt Devil and disinfecting this full house of wet and mildews…like, it were a Friday night and company were coming.

When her child woke up feeling out of sorts, she did what most of us do. She gave her a drink and sent her back to bed. The complaint barely registering on the Mom Worry-o-Meter.

Until she goes in to check on her daughter. With the touch of her hand to her child's forhead, she heard the silent scream of a child needing her mother. Yelling for her husband to get the thermometer, the mother instinct kicks in. She writes about it so beautifully.

Sometimes, it takes less than a minute and I feel angry enough to choke a chicken.

“That’s okay, Sweetie.”

Then, the kids get sick.

“Oh, please don’t cry!”

The mommy kicks in.

“Don’t worry, Mommy’s here!”

And all is right with the world, again.

“DANG, girlfriend…103.7!”

[eyes go wide]

“WHAT…didn’t think mommy could count that high, DID-CHUH!?!”

Sooths the soul, really.

She is right. Something about that moment does soothe the soul of a mother.

And sometimes it kicks in when it isn't even your child. That motherhood instinct doesn't have an off button. Lisa of Niihaus recently heard the silent cry of a child in need and jumped into action.

The Brother was being kept away from his son for 7 years. The mom had become a meth chef, so the kid was left in the care of the great grandmother.

Big time mess if I must say....

He told me, as I sat here in my pajamas, at 1:00pm all the stuff that was going on with The Spare Boy. And what flew out of my mouth was, “Let’s go get him.”

So we drove what seemed like 4,567,987,890.04 miles to retrieve the kid, but all undercover letting the great grandmother think we were just coming for a visit.

After a little while of visiting, we dropped the bombshell that we’d be taking the child. And, after many words, much of them quick witted (by guess who? The one who knows everything, that’s who…guh! Why are you asking?) We told her we had legal papers to take the child for visitation.

So we did.

She saw a child who needed the kind of mothering that my daughter needed when she crushed her finger. That Liz's baby girl needed when she wouldn't eat. That Liz's tween needed as her fever spiked. Lisa saw a boy in need and the Mom-o-Meter went off the charts and she jumped into action.

Beacuse? That's what happens.

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~You can find more of my writing at Mommy Needs Coffee, Mommybloggers , Fresh Brewed Reviews and Aggroqueen.~