Fill me full of dreams while an angel destroys a kitchen and burns holes in the carpet with a child's dream of a match bonfire. Say I may have luck while reprimanding the me, the mom, because the angel spilled the juice left soda on the stairs and got into, yet more matches. Say I'm … Continue reading The Responsible Party
He thinks if he expresses how much he doesn't like me it will stop me from trying to be a good mom. Oh, my precious baby, I ache for the feel of a soft little head beneath my chin, and little fingers clasped about my own. They were my moments to worship you. Little, soft … Continue reading I don’t like you, Mom
I find the sound of your tiny snores ease my darkest nights. A profile of long lashes and bits of polished sky-- bits of me. But I couldn't be this beautiful. I want to hold you like in the days when you despaired whenever you couldn't hear my heart, but you're older now. And no … Continue reading Light my Nights
He paves a path through morning dew in search of apples. Little legs, though not as little as they use to be. Crows of sheep and points at goats, then waits to see if the cat's on the roof. Wanders back with upraised hands-- still little hands. Almost to big to carry home, but little enough … Continue reading A Little Walk
I reach through the darkness and touch a soft baby arm.
A fuzzy owl by his cheek, a partner on the other. he stares up, oblivious, then feels their triangle ears. Milk? No. Soft thing? "Owls!" he seems to yell when they deny him milk. But what other soft things could exist other than nipples, blankets, and sleep? Fuzzy owls, the way he yowls at their … Continue reading Two Months Old
Never thought I'd like being a mom this much. Growing up as the oldest of 11, I got burnt out on kids, more or less. Mom had chronic depression so I often had to watch over my siblings while she struggled just to function. Needless to say, I also got burnt out on babysitting. I … Continue reading Love/Hate Relationship with Kids
I remember that striped shirt. The one my father wears. My little baby had barfed all over mine, so he gave me one of his from the dirty laundry. It had smelled... of generic male deoderant. Not the most sentimental of shirts. And he's still wearing it. Maybe my baby should have barfed all over … Continue reading Baby Barf