Tag: parenting

Baby Bounce

Baby Bounce

It’s my turn and so I’m bouncing my baby
And part of me thinks that maybe,
When I’m wonder-whying,
Without reason, he’ll stop crying.

Like when we’re at the grocery store
And he’s not crying anymore
Then someone asks if he’s always this way
And I smile perplexed at what I should say.

Where does the day go?

Where does the day go?

I haven’t checked things off my list
Look around, there’s tons I’ve missed,
The garden still needs weeding
The baby still needs feeding

I’ll let Jodi handle that one
But there so much more undone.
The cluttered chaos on the ground
Doesn’t make me feel unwound

I don’t want to pick up my shoe
and place it neatly out of view
But when you act on “I don’t want to”
Then it’s just left out to taunt you.

Teething Techniques

Teething Techniques

I’m testing out a circumstance we
haven’t tried so if by chance he
hushes up then I can be
inside a moment quietly.

Right now he’s in the jumper,
But he’s looking for his thumb or
Something else to chew upon
Until the teething phase is gone.

So I’ve rigged up rings within his reach
But still, I don’t know how to teach
Him place your mouth around the rings
So I’ll enjoy the calm it brings.

http://www.bonjourpoetry.com

From Baby

From Baby

Don’t listen to my voice, ‘cause I can’t speak
I’m in amniotic fluid upside down.
I know that if I kick mom here, she’ll leak
I’ll wait though, till we’re driving through downtown.

Throwing Out Memories

Throwing Out Memories

My kids are both big garbage fans
And like their favorite garbage men
They got to move the garbage cans.
Creating a remember-when

My kids took up the garbage cans that night.
And I’m sure this will become somewhat less cute
When they’re older and their chores become a fight
But tonight I let their smiles leave me mute.

This Parent Rocks

Here’s a warning to those who don’t know,
That as a parent I might go
Back and forth from side to side.
I’m standing still, but still I glide

Back and forth as if at sea,
It’s slowly been ingrained in me.
It started around 2 or 3
Each morning and habitually

Has transformed how I now relate
With conversations everyday.
Be warned when we communicate,
My stance is now a sway.

Mass Interruption and Tradition

I hesitate to give my son attention
But he’s tapping on my arm while we’re at Mass
I quickly think, “what type of intervention
Do I need to do to help this moment pass”.

Surprised I hear my son so softly say
Non-sensicals that slowly whisp away.
He points up to the altar while his speech
Lands in a language slightly out of reach.

My son just chose to share an explanation,
A mimicry of how I’m passing on
The beauty that’s caught up in revelation,
In tradition handed down after we’re gone.

I wonder if he knows what he is saying
As he whispers sounds of nothing in my ear
And though it’s simply one son’s way of playing
I know tradition’s setting in right here.

http://www.bonjourpoetry.com