Something impossible has happened

My daughter told me that she hates Goodnight Moon.
She even moved it from her shelf to–
oh the horror!– my shelf.
Lest it contaminate her syrupy princess books
with its wholesome sweetness, I presume.
This is even worse than yesterday, when I heard
a rumor that Anthropologie sullied itself with
Rick Santorum.
I must go weep now for all that is good.

Pink gifts

She brushed me with
the sweetest petals of motherhood
today.
Her arms flung around my neck,
kisses were stamped on my cheek,
and she crowed:
Mommy, I love you so much
I don’t even have the word,
even more than you can imagine!
It’s mutual.
As were the damp starry eyelashes.

womankind, big and small

Wild woman,
wistful wishes
willful winds,
winsome wisps,
worry, worship, won’t.
We had them all today.

Humble monkey

Today my girl said to me,
with absolutely no malice,
Mommy, you’re really just
not very good at crafts, hunh?
Certainly the flippers for the monkey
were a challenge.

The princess and the pea

Nothing would please.
Holes in the tights.
Braids too tight.
We forgot her snack.
But worst of all:
Mommmmm!!!! Listen to me!!!
I’m too dehygerated, I just
CAN’T STAND IT, Mom!
I concentrated on keeping my breathing
slow and steady.
Things were quiet for a minute. Then,
Mom?
What’s dehygerated?

These days go on forever.

As the sun streams in, I try to put
my girl to bed.
Outside, people in yellow socks
are running around looking for beer.
I don’t mean that metaphorically;
they are actually
running, and they are searching for beer,
and when they find it, they will drink it.
Loudly.
I would honestly rather be right here,
reading Berenstein Bears and
Kureyon No Kurokun.
Which is nice to know, since this
is where I am.

At last.

Today a thought floated
through my head, unbidden:
Oh, look. It really is all going to be okay.

Crying into my peonies

There is so much sorrow and joy
packed into every day
that I find myself weeping
walking across the room
or picking up my daughter–
just a few silent gasps
over her shoulder.
And sometimes we sit and cry together
and talk about our feelings
until she rolls her eyes
and is done
and too,
we laugh and laugh and
every day
new petals are revealed.

The wrath of the internet gods

Last night I tangled with the internet gods,
and they won.
Specifically, they kicked my ass
all around the ether.
Luckily, I have a superhero
living under my roof.

Photo credit: AJK

Down the lines

Seven minutes before my class started,
I got a phone call.
“She needs to tell you something,”
said my sister.
Mommy? Earlier when I was so mad?
And I said those mean things?
Like idiot and I hate you?
When you were in the bathroom I hided
your favorite book and your shoes under the couch,
and I wanted you to know where they are in case
you wanted them and I feel bad and I don’t want
you to be sad and I hoped I wouldn’t forget where I put them.
Thank heaven for The Auntie.
Apparently The Child confided her wicked deed
and said sorrowfully,
I feel so bad about it.
But I know Mommy will understand my feelings.