Mum Poem

I may not have rock-hard abs,
that flat and wash-board tum.
I'm not a tool for washin',
I'm something more, a mum.
I've got arms for cuddlin',
a chest for snuggling'
hands for ticklin'.

Yes, there's jiggle in my wiggle,
But it gives this mum a chance,
To make her babies giggle,
when they're watching mummy dance.

My thigh's, they're not that skinny,
to most they don't look great,
but I've got a lap that's good for babies,
to sit on when it's late.

I'll never be an athlete,
and I'm certainly not lean,
enough to be a model,
in a glossy magazine.

My body isn't perfect,
by society's designs,
But God sure made it pretty great.
To do the job that's mine.

So as long as I stay healthy,
and can play, and push the pram,
I'm pretty fine and happy,
just the way I am.