Tag Archives: mother’s day

Drift Into Dreamland

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He must’ve been tired,
because my eight year old said
Can we go to bed?
Can you tuck us in?

And I thought
Yes please go to bed.
Who’ll tuck me in?

And then I got up from where
we were snuggled in reading.
I shivered into my robe,
then tucked my daughter in
after brushing her hair
and scratching her back
and answering some questions.
I tucked my son in,
raining kisses on his forehead,
his cheeks;
he got annoyed.
I remembered that nothing lasts forever,
not even mother’s kisses
that give us angels’ wings
right before we drift into dreamland.

Mother’s Acrostic Day

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To sleep more is a dream
I think about what that means
Realizing that there is so much to do
Everyone else has needs too
Downward spiral if this continues.

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It’s late on Mother’s Day, and as I contemplated what I was going to write tonight I found this acrostic I wrote back in April hiding in my drafts. ┬áIt seemed fitting to publish it tonight; exhaustion has been a key traveling companion on this journey of motherhood, and I’m sure all mothers everywhere can give me an “AMEN!” on that one.

Always a Mother

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Sometimes I’m a monster.
The hormones rage,
awakened by a child too many times
in the night
sleep deprivation depriving
me of insight,
cannot see the light.
Patience is gone,
replaced by rage,
I’m an animal in a cage.

I’m loud, I stomp, I slam,
I feel put upon, resentful,
exhausted, alone.
Then comes the guilt
for not being better.
When it’s like this,
I often forget that…

Sometimes I’m a saint.
Most of the time
I meet my children
with tenderness and kindness
when they are grumpy,
resistant, messy, loud,
and mostly oblivious to my efforts
toward their happiness.
I cuddle and hold them close,
I tell them how important they are,
how special, how dear,
how glad I am that they are here.

I love from the deepest part of me
and forgive every single thing,
because I see their purity,
their goodness,
their absolute trust in me,
and I want to be worthy of that trust.

Sometimes I’m a monster.
Sometimes I’m a saint.

Always I’m a mother.