Mothers are like roses in the bushes of thorn, always putting a smile to all your frowns and smelling good. They are the pillars to your damaged palaces of dreams. They are the burning steam to your aspirations which support them to rise above and beyond. A mother is a GOD in disguise. She is that powerful holy thread which binds every person close together.

Ever for a second, do we wonder what all it takes to be a mother?

A sacrificing heart, a smiling face and a 24-hour free labor service? That’s it?

Nope! Being a mother is tough and tiring. It is something which never ends but evolves through life. A girl, in her life has various roles- being a daughter, a wife, a sister. But, this role of being a mother, comes like a tornado in her life. It’s no joke that God selected a WOMAN to hold this responsibility to give birth to a child, the power to create a child and nurse it in her body for 9 months. A woman with two strong chromosomes can cross any tough situation and come out a warrior. According to me, a Mother is the revolution with an ability to raise a human; she is a provoking thought which can make the dreams vibrant with golden shine and trash all the nightmares; She is like air, envelops you on winter mornings, cools you on summery nights and travels in you like life. A mother is an indispensable human who breaks, moulds, empower and builds you, asking nothing in return!

There is a Mother, who unapologetically writes about the ‘trails and tribulations’ of being a mother. Her post has got violent in the recent time, amongst the folks who have nod and agreed with her relentlessly.

Aly Brothers has reflected on her journey of being a mother.

This is motherhood.

No fancy filters, no good lighting, no new lipstick. It's messy hair that's wet from the rain, yesterday's makeup that I was too tired to wash off, and tears. Motherhood is HARD. Single-motherhood is HARD. These tears started as the cashier of Giant Eagle handed me my receipt and continued for the entire drive home. Tears that were passed on to my oldest in the backseat because he doesn't like to see his mommy cry. We know how much boys love their mothers.

You see, my two blonde haired, blue eyed, angel faced toddlers were not so angelic today. It was 8:00 in the morning and we were out of milk. We took a trip to the store because if you know my kids; you know they survive on chocolate milk. But they weren't having it. My youngest cried almost the entire time we were in the store. He didn't want to sit in the cart, he didn't want to be buckled, and he wanted to hold all the groceries on his lap. He got mad. He threw his shoe, he threw my wallet, and he threw the three groceries that did fit on his lap. And he cried. And people stared. That was fine, I could handle that. My three year old wanted to be superman and stand on the cart. That was fine. I told him to hold on and stand straight. He did not. He fell off, he leaned backwards and knocked things off their displays. He leaned back and bumped a stranger. Then I made him get down and he walked too far ahead of me and opened all the freezer section doors telling me all the things he wanted to get. I tried to handle that. I stopped multiple times and composed myself and my children. The lady that I stopped and moved to the side of the aisle for glared at me because I moved the wrong way, she needed behind me not in front of me. No words, just a glare. I tried to handle that. And then we saw balloons. Oh how my kids love balloons. They wanted the huge ones that cost $8.00. I compromised. We would get one balloon and share. They agreed. They each said "share" and smiled as I picked the biggest Mickey Mouse balloon they had. But while we were checking out they did not want to share. They screamed, they cried, they fought. I handed the balloon to another cashier to be put back and they cried louder. My youngest pushed buttons on the card machine while my oldest picked up candy. The people in line behind me glared. The cashier glared. Everyone's eyes were on me as if to say "can't you control your own children". One older gentleman whispered, "She’s pretty young for two kids" and I lost it. She handed me my receipt and I cried. They don't know me. They don't know me as a mother. They don't know my children. They don't know I was married before I started a family. They don't know I left that marriage because of abuse knowing I would have it just as hard as a single mother. It's hard people. The glares and whispers and judgements are hard. Sometimes I can control my children and sometimes I can't. Sometimes they listen and sometimes they don't. Sometimes I can handle it and sometimes I break down. I know these days will pass, the tears will stop, the fighting will cease, and my babies will be grown. And that will be hard too. So if you see a parent struggling, if you see a kid throwing a tantrum, if you see a mom on the verge of tears...please say something nice. Please don't glare with judgement. And to all moms out there having a day like mine...I see you, I know you, I love you. You are strong and you are doing just fine.