That is my final word on motherhood.
We discuss the joy enough, often it is small cuddles, slight touches.
They finally did it.
Got it
Great stuff.
But if it weren’t for the sadness
The unpreventable accident
The failed test
Fall of the bike
Skinned knee
Asking why the 98th time,
Would it the sweet be so sweet?
I doubt.
Joy is fun
Fuel helping us trip the Etsy fantastic
Instagramming up our best.
Curated best.
That can be nifty fun, kept in perspective.
It also helps them hold the joy when they are old and the wrinkles and gray hairs poke through.
Remember that fun time,
Oh right.
But the pain and sorrows are etched deep, carved in past muscle, straight to bone
No picture required there folks.
That’s the character building stuff.
We all got some of it.
That mixes in with the joy and it makes magic.
Not just sorrow they grow up
Frustration they learn the hard way
Harridness if being human and not an octopus.
I really need to be an octopus.
Not just first place trophies and group hugs either.
That cauldron of good and bad and this and that.
That’s meaning.
Yep, that’s the stuff
That’s the mother’s fuel.

3 thoughts on “Mom

  1. This poem contains the essence of motherhood. Try to skim the cream for richness, as in

    Heartrending. My final word on motherhood:
    small cuddles, the fall off the bike. Skinned knee.
    Asking WHY? the 98th time.
    I really needed to be an octopus.
    The mother’s fuel: pain etched deep.
    They grow up. They learn the hard way.
    The failed test.
    Pain and sorrows, straight to the bone.
    A cauldron of good and bad, this and that,
    mixes with the joy and makes magic.
    When I am old and the wrinkles and grey hairs
    poke through, remember that fun time. First
    place trophy, group hug. Heartrending.

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