Tag: toddlers
Some days
Some days
Stretched thin
My heart, my skin
Spread far and wide
And though I’ve tried
My patience fails
My heart, it quails
Some days
Stretched thin
My heart, my skin
The toddler roars
And slams the door
He lets me know
Who runs the show
Some days
Stretched thin
My heart, my skin
The baby cries
The empress queen
Will be obeyed
Or price be paid
Some days
Stretched thin
My heart, my skin
I’m losing sleep
And with is goes
All the wisdom
That I know
Some days
Stretched thin
My heart, my skin
Chalk in the sink
Paint on the floor
Stamps on the wall
Pens on the door
Some days
Stretched thin
My heart, my skin
My mind forgets
My plans do fail
Behind me lies
A messy trail
Some days
Stretched thin
My heart, my skin
Mistakes rubbed in
Do sink my heart
Under their weight
I fall apart
Some days
Stretched thin
My heart, my skin
I write this poem
Take refuge in
The secret world
I hide within
Some days
Stretched thin
My heart, my skin
The Tiny Detective
Splash
Go make a splash–cause here in Crazy Land, we’re just not quite ready to let go of summer and get down to business yet!
The Kamakazi Toddler and Other Adventures in Eating Out with Kids
We went to the Dosa Factory restaurant
with a very good old friend
and our seven kids.
They were very good:
one napped quietly and the others played card games like “Go Fish”
and set up their Littlest Pet Shops on the lazy Susan
to show our sweet friend
who expressed genuine delight.
They sat in their seats and were very good indeed…
except the toddler
who played musical chairs
and repeatedly catapulted himself off his high chair,
grinning delightedly under his cropped golden mop:
“Wheee! Whahoo! Wheee!”
Of course the encouraging smiles of the surrounding people
just added fuel to the fire
and when he hid under the table
it wasn’t in shame but in jest…
he was playing house!
It was all well and good until he spilled water all over his pants
and decide to strip down, then and there, in the high chair….
and then bolt–laughing!–
as Daddy followed in hot pursuit.
After being bribed with “Coffey” (sweet milky chai tea)
he temporarily settled back into his high chair
(now in his pants again…which were only pjs…but still)
and sipped his drink off a spoon with relish:
“It’s yummy, Mama; it tastes GOOD!”
And while all this went on
we ate mutter paneer dosa, and chicken korma and naan
and talked faith and philosophy,
the importance of being yourself
and why the little things matter,
and I nursed the baby
and bounced her as she cooed and giggled
those new little laughs
that are like spring flowers
meeting with the world for the first time
to share their loveliness.
And once the kids escaped their seats
and scampered about eating fennel seed candy,
we settled up and walked home in the slight rain
to the scent of June roses
perfuming the grey evening with hope
and splashes of colour.
The Sleeper
Today we attempted to skip the toddler’s nap so he wouldn’t stay up so late…
So much for that idea!
Some long days…
Some long days the baby cries
and the toddler screams
and the 5 year old seems to have
ants in his pants
and a megaphone around his neck.
Some long days
the toddler won’t nap
and the phone rings five times
during the quiet-time movie
and it seems nothing can wait
for you to just chill out and relax
for just an hour…even half an hour!
Some long days
the boys fill your kettle with pencil crayons
and draw on the bathroom door
and the baby wakes up
as soon as you begin the math lesson
and everyone moans and groans
and forgets how to round to the nearest ten.
Some long days you hit dinner time
with a sense of desperation…
“How long till bed?!”
and sing along to “The Muppets” soundtrack
in an attempt to feel that you’ve got
“Everything that I need, right in front of me.”
Some long days
the smartest thing you do
is have a glass of wine with dinner
and veto everything but laughter
as you listen to stories from the Vinyl Cafe
with the kids
who delight in the one
when Dave gets trapped in a sewer
after dropping down his keys
and gets mistaken for a monster by a little boy.
Some long days
the greatest relief is the feeling of your toddler
drooling on your shoulder
as you rock him to sleep early, to prevent any more fits.
Success! The little beast is quiet…
and you can actually read the others
“The Never-Ending Story” about Atreyu and Bastian,
the luck dragon Falcor and the childlike Empress,
until their eyes close and their breath gets deep and even.
Despite all the chaos,
all they’ll probably remember about today is
listening to stories with you
and falling asleep on the warmth of your lap.
Some long days
when the hours drag on,
remember you’re not alone
and try to end them with a smile…
Just keep picturing diving into bed
and sinking into the sweet relief of sleep!
Some long days, mamas,
you gotta keep your eye on the prize!
awake
In the dim, dark house
the furnace rumbles and blows
breathy hellos into the corner of each room.
In this airy darkness
I try to lie still
while my toddler—
having made his nocturnal migration
into my bed—
sleeps beside me.
The baby in my belly wiggles
and flutters,
hoping for a snack.
Such a boy…
not yet born
and already wanting breakfast before dawn.
How small I am, Lord
How small I am, Lord,
like a little toddler stumbling along
and insisting on doing it “self.”
But when I get so exhausted that
I have to sit down and cry,
I find myself scooped up in Your loving arms.
You’ve made me this small so You can carry me
tenderly and cover my scrapes with kisses….
gestures of affection from all those around me,
whose warmth and wisdom protects me
from the silliness of trying
to travel this journey alone.
I am tiny
so others can have the chance
to be messengers of Your mercy—
angels of Your love.
Help me always to trust
that every time I fall
You’ll be there to comfort me
with a love even sweeter than before.
