Tag Archives: Motherhood

Mama Made A Dinner

Mama Made A Dinner
 (2015)

 Mama made a dinner 
 For her wee little kids
 They whined and they cried
 That they didn’t have any bowls
 
 And Mama said,
 “You can get yourself a bowl”
 
 So they got themselves bowls.
 

 She brought the food
 To the table
 They whined and they cried
 That they didn’t have any spoons.
 
 And Mama said,
 “You got yourself a bowl,
 And you can get yourself a spoon.”
 
 So they got themselves spoons.
  

 But then they wanted a cup
 To drink out of.
 So they whined and they cried
 That they didn’t have any cups.
 
 And Mama said,
 “You got yourself a bowl,
 You got yourself a spoon,
 And you can get yourself a cup.”
 
 So they got themselves cups.
  

 Then they wanted water
 In their wee little cups.
 So they whined and they cried 
 That they didn’t have any water.
 
 And Mama said,
 “You got yourself a bowl,
 You got yourself a spoon,
 You got yourself a cup,
 And you can get yourself some water.”
 
 So they poured themselves some water.
  

 But then they got a little messy
 And wanted a bib
 So they whined and they cried
 That they didn’t have any bibs.
 
 And Mama said,
 “You got yourself a bowl,
 You got yourself a spoon,
 You got yourself a cup,
 You got yourself some water,
 And you can get yourself a bib.”
 
 So they got bibs.
 

 Then Mama cleaned up dinner
 And it was time to sleep.
 So they whined and they cried
 That it was time for bed.
 
 And Mama said,
 “You got yourself a bowl,
 You got yourself a spoon,
 You got yourself a cup,
 You got yourself some water,
 You got yourself a bib,
 And you can get yourself in bed.”
 
 So they got in bed.
 

 Then Mama turned out the lights
 But they really wanted snuggles.
 So they whined and they cried
 That they needed snuggles.
 
 And Mama said,
 “You got yourself a bowl,
 You got yourself a spoon,
 You got yourself a cup,
 You got yourself some water,
 You got yourself a bib,
 You got yourself in bed,
 And you can get yourself some snuggles.”
 
 So they snuggled themselves to sleep in Mama’s arms.

Cakes on Ash Wednesday

Cakes on Ash Wednesday
(February 17th, 2021)

I made cakes on Ash Wednesday.
I measured and cracked and melted,
I mixed and poured and beat,
I folded and poured into pans,
All the while pondering the irony:
Their sticky fingers and chocolate mustaches
On this, of all days!
And yet I reminisce what these are for:
All the months of suffering,
Walking a lonely road of bearing life,
Bleeding, dying - to give birth to these children.
And even as I prepare to walk the desert road,
I recall how I, too, have had desert times;
How I, too, have given my life.
I, too, have nourished children with my body.
I remember those times I have trod Christ’s path,
Not just for six weeks of remembrance
But nine months three times over - plus some.
And as I prepare to have my forehead marked,
I cannot help but smile - -
I made cakes on Ash Wednesday.

(We have two February birthdays, and sometimes they fall in Lent and sometimes they don’t. It always makes me chuckle a little when they do.)

Sweet Atrocities

Sweet Atrocities
(January 5th, 2022)
For g.a.c.

Sometimes a quiet "I love you"
Is whispered from the grave
In this case:
Childish ornaments
Crafted with love and
Duct tape and pinecones,
Perler beads and pony beads,
Glitter and string and yarn.
I can just imagine 
My young, glowing eyes
As she unwrapped 
These sweet atrocities.
And when Christmas was over,
As she did year and again,
Wrapped lovingly in ancient tissue paper,
She placed them in the
Box of "Geri's Ornaments",
One last time for me to find
Twenty-three years later.
As I wrap up my own
Sweetly made atrocities
And think on the
Love of my children,
My tired, motherless heart
Feels a glimmer, a whisper
Of love from the grave.

(The ornaments have been taken down, gone through, purged, and put away. But not without memories. Yesterday would have been her 72nd birthday. Happy birthday, Mom! Thanks for the whisper.)

Flutter Bye

Flutter Bye
(August 8th, 2020)
for c.c.a.

Lullabye
Love a bye
Your flutter-eyes
Flutter bye
Drifting by
Like a butterfly
Into Sleep’s dream sky
Lullabye
Love a bye
Your little lashes
Flutter nigh

(Few things have I loved more than snuggling my little ones to sleep. Not a moment wasted or regretted. And, just to be real, there are certainly nights I have loathed it too, which is usually when I haven’t taken care of myself or they’re just not sleepy enough.)

View From Mama’s Wrap

View From Mama’s Wrap
 (June 25th, 2013)
 For A.T.A.
 
 Safely perched way up high
 Watching people, trees, and cars go by
 I can see the ground and the sky
 In this view from Mama's wrap
 
 Snuggled close I can rest and eat
 Or just watch while kicking my feet
 What a joy! What a treat! 
 This view from Mama's wrap!
 
 In the cold I stay warm 
 I am held away from harm
 Even safe from bugs that swarm
 In this view from Mama's wrap
 
 Still too small to be alone
 Where you are, there is home
 Over our world do my eyes roam
 In this view from Mama's wrap
 
 One day my feet will walk the ground
 And then I will move all around
 But for now I'll keep safe and sound
 In this view from Mama's wrap

Already Small

Already Small
 (June 16th, 2014)
 
 Already small
      Yet I tower over you
 Learning so much
      Yet I act like you’re dumb
 Aching for closeness
      Yet I push you away
 Striving for confidence
      Yet I tell you “You can’t”
 Ears that hear everything
      Yet I storm and I yell
 Skin so soft
      Yet I’ve touched it too hard
 Hands that could heal
      Yet I’ve let them do harm
 A voice so soft
      Yet I’ve told it to hush
 A mind so busy
      Yet I’ve told it to stop
 Feet still unsteady
      Yet I’m remiss to help
 My feet so big
      Yet they still fit in your shoes

(I remember writing this shortly after reading “Raising Our Children, Raising Ourselves”, and realizing how immature I still was, how my own childhood trauma had stunted my maturation in particular ways. I didn’t realize I was going through postpartum depression as well.)

We Go Walking to the Park

We Go Walking to the Park
 (August 14th, 2014)

 We go walking to the park
 My little heart-strings and I
 Pitter-patter, trip and fall
 Scraped knee, sad cry
 Skip into the grass
 Try to climb a tree
 Smell the blooming flowers
 Grasp at hanging leaves
 Racing ahead the sidewalk
 Or trudging slow behind
 Sometimes quick and cheery
 Sometimes slow and resigned
 Climb up every stair
 Balance on every garden wall
 Giggle with delight
 I’ll hold your hand so your won’t fall

(When my oldest two were younger we could walk to the park from our house. There was a garden wall they always had to balance on – there and back.)

Rough Days

Rough Days
 (May 22nd, 2013)
 
 Rough days!
 Rough days!
 Too many tears
 One too many whines
 The baby won't nap
 And the toddler's unkind
 Rough days!
 The baby just cries
 And the toddler spills
 A mess in every corner
 With needs too big to fill 
 Rough days!
 Mama's voice too harsh
 Mama's hands not gentle
 Mama's head is frustrated
 Like a boiling kettle
 Rough days!
 The paint on the floor
 Tracked footprints inside
 The fly on the food
 The dirt on the slide 
 Rough days!
 The grace that was forgotten
 For others and self
 Let's just sit down quiet
 And pick a book off the shelf
 Rough days!

(Written during the height of postpartum depression days. Those blurry days were so rough, and I am so thankful they are behind us. Yet, I am also thankful I went through them. The knowledge and compassion learned by growing through that will always go with me, and be a part of my birth work as long as I am able to be present in that world.)

Today Foretold of Summer

Today Foretold of Summer
(May 2nd, 2020)

Today foretold of summer
Hot sun upon our backs
Pulling weeds from the glen
Filling bucket after bucket
Dark earth sifted in my fingers
Pressing moist between my toes
Breathing air fresh from the trees
Nurturing all below
Little hands worked hard with mine
Working-games with glee
What fun it is to work the earth
While small ones work beside me!