Motherhood Is Full of Holy Sh*t

Why Ploppals Might Be the Most Honest Mother’s Day Gift

There is a kind of love that gets measured in the things no one applauds.

In the midnight diaper changes.
In the spit-up on a clean shirt.
In the potty-training standoffs.
In the sticky kitchen floors.
In the endless gathering of shoes, cups, socks, crumbs, and emotional debris that somehow accumulates in the wake of family life.

Mothers are forever tending the mess.

Literal messes, yes.

But also the invisible ones.

The hurt feelings.
The teenage defiance.
The worries whispered after bedtime.
The grown child who still calls when life falls apart.
The sick child.
The struggling child.
The child who is suffering in ways a mother would carry herself if she could.

There is so much… shit mothers hold.

And yet, they keep loving.

They keep showing up.

There is something holy in that.

Which is why a little crochet companion holding the words, Holy Sh*t, I Think You’re Wonderful feels, strangely enough, like one of the most honest Mother’s Day gifts imaginable.

Because it says what flowers often don’t.

It says:

I see what you carry.
I see what you clean up.
I see what you absorb.
I see the grace inside the chaos.

And I think you’re wonderful.

Humor has a way of slipping truth through the side door.

A silly little Ploppal can say something profound without making it heavy. It can make a mother laugh -  really laugh - and feel recognized at the same time.

And recognition can be a kind of balm.

For a new mother navigating exhaustion and postpartum shadows, a Pocket Ploppal tucked beside a note can say:

I see you.
You’re not alone.
I care.

For the mother in the thick of caregiving, holding together a household and everyone in it, a Holy Sht I Think You’re Wonderful* can be a wink and a blessing.

For the mother who has spent decades taking life’s blows for others, Holy Poop I Think You’re Wonderful may feel less like a joke and more like overdue praise.

Sometimes the best gifts do not solve anything.

They simply witness.

Ploppals were born, in part, for this very purpose—to acknowledge the hard stuff with humor, and answer it with love. To say: Yes, life can be messy. Yes, things can feel shitty. And still, you are lovable. Still, you are doing beautifully. Still, someone sees you.

That is no small thing.

A tiny toy can become a talisman.

A reminder tucked in a purse.
A companion on a dashboard.
A soft friend on a bedside table.

A little emblem that says: someone thought of me.

And perhaps that is what Mother’s Day, at its heart, longs to be.

Not grand gestures.

Recognition.

Tenderness.

The simple naming of what often goes unnamed.

Motherhood is full of holy shit.

And maybe this year, that deserves a gift honest enough to say so.

A Ploppal may make her laugh.

But more than that—

It may help her feel seen.

And that can be its own kind of miracle.

Give a Ploppal to show you care.

💛 Heather
Founder, Ploppals