How The Beatles Got By with a Little Help from a Mama

I have rather eclectic taste when it comes to music – Oasis, Alicia Keyes, Calvin Harris, Bon Jovi, Nickelback (KIDDING!), Jay-Z, Tim McGraw, U2, Walk Off the Earth, Elton John.  You get the idea – it’s a mishmash.  On the rare occasion that I get to go somewhere in my car without my little maniacs, er, I mean, my sweet cherubs, I crank up the volume and sing like it’s my only job on Earth.  I look insane to anyone who witnesses my car karaoke sessions. I know this and I don’t care.

The other day, I was out for a quick errand while my husband tended to the tots.  The first song to play was ‘Help’ by the Beatles.  Now, I do the full-time mama gig all day, every day, and listening to those lyrics, I had an epiphany: I don’t think they were written by John Lennon after all. 

I think they were actually written by a mother of little children.

Let’s analyze, shall we?

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Help, I need somebody, |This is a ridiculous amount of work for one person to manage alone|
Help, not just anybody, |No felons, please. And no one who wears strong perfume – the stuff gives me migraines|
Help, you know I need someone, help. |Send in the reinforcements, stat!|

When I was younger, so much younger than today, |Before kids made me so haggard|
I never needed anybody’s help in any way. |Independent Woman!|
But now these days are gone, I’m not so self assured, |I am a husk of my former self.|
Now I find I’ve changed my mind and opened up the doors. |Come on in and help! Bring caffeine! And wine! And chocolate!|

Help me if you can, I’m feeling down |I’m covered in spit up and my hair is falling out|
And I do appreciate you being round. |Can I go take a shower? Or have a nap?|
Help me, get my feet back on the ground, |When will all this feel normal???|
Won’t you please, please help me. |PLEASE!|

And now my life has changed in oh so many ways, |Oh. So. Many.|
My independence seems to vanish in the haze. |I can’t even take a pee by myself.|
But every now and then I feel so insecure, |Am I doing this mama gig right???|
I know that I just need you like I’ve never done before. |Like a donut needs a hole.|

Help me if you can, I’m feeling down |I haven’t slept through the night in months|
And I do appreciate you being round. |Adult conversation is a soothing balm on my frayed nerves|
Help me, get my feet back on the ground, |It will feel normal someday…right???|
Won’t you please, please help me. |On my knees here. Not too proud to beg|

When I was younger, so much younger than today, |Back when I had time for a beauty regime that included more than ‘baseball hat and go’|
I never needed anybody’s help in any way. |I got this!|
But now these days are gone, I’m not so self assured, |I didn’t know how much I didn’t know!|
Now I find I’ve changed my mind and opened up the doors. |Get in here already dammit!|

Help me if you can, I’m feeling down |I eat my toddler’s leftovers for dinner|
And I do appreciate you being round. |Reassure me that I’m still pretty and not as batshit crazy as I feel|
Help me, get my feet back on the ground, |I’m so tired|
Won’t you please, please help me, help me, help me, oh |Oh God, the baby is awake…again|

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There can’t be any denying it; it must have been written by a mama.

I reckon she must have been sitting on a bench at the park, frantically writing these words in her journal, clueless to the fact that she was actually composing what would become a smash hit for The Beatles. Then her baby in the pram had a poop explosion and started purple-faced-screaming at the exact same time her pre-schooler fell off the slide’s ladder and face planted in the sand below.  In the ensuing mayhem, Mama didn’t notice that her journal had fallen on the ground under the bench…only to be found a little while later by John Lennon.

It’s so obvious now, isn’t it?

Makes me wonder if Yesterday was actually written by a new dad…