This was a funny little poem whose fragments jumped into my stream of thought before dinner one evening when my oldest daughter was peeling glittery stickers off a rainbow-shaped valentine card box in order to run them over to a living room side table. She was so excited to have an audience to witness her feats. Once she’d transferred all the stickers, she began the process of transfering them back. At some point throughout this, I needed to check on dinner. She was so distraught that I would consider leaving. I envisioned a vivid depiction of her trying to grasp onto this fleeting moment of childhood perfection like a handful of sand, the tighter she squeezed onto the moment, the more the grains of it slipped through her fingers and out of her hands catching in the breeze before they made it to the ground, and therefore, eternally irretrievable. Each one of us, as adults, can recall a time we wanted a moment to last and so we grabbed it too tightly, not only ensuring it’s ending, but probably hastening it. Too often, in adulthood, there’s no one to fix it or help us. As a mom, watching my kiddo experience this, I thought to myself, “She will face the disappointment of situations like this soon enough. She didn’t need to face it now and no one was going to be upset if dinner happened a few minutes later. I could witness another round of stickers in transit (a great band name).”
So, without further ado…
Two Under Two
Two under two is a nightmare,
Some say.
Others chime in with:
“You’ll love it one day.”
There’s much to express,
But I haven’t the time,
Chores and kids to tackle,
A mountain of “To Do” to climb.
But, when the two year old,
Stops and shouts, “No,”
Then points where I should sit,
I go with the flow.
I do this because,
I recall as a wee little one,
A burning desire,
With mom and dad, to have fun.
She reaches to me,
With her fingers out wide,
Motions her hand to the floor,
To sit by her side.
Her fingers at work,
Removing stickers from paper,
Concentration for the transfer,
Not one will escape her.
“Mama needs to make dinner,”
I say with dismay.
Crashing her perfection;
Ruining her day.
“NOOOOOOOOO,” she wails,
And reaches to me,
Fingers stretched wide,
In her eyes just one plea.
They fill up with tears,
Like a knife through my heart,
And say, “Mama, please promise,
To stay and finish what you start,”
I can stay this one time,
Because circumstances permit,
But I dread the day I can’t,
And alone, she may sit.
But despair in my heart,
Remains but for a brief wink,
Because, I know in the future,
She’ll reach for another, I think.
That other is too small,
To get up to play just now,
She’s giggling and drooling,
Doing anything her tiny body will allow.
Only five months old now,
But soon to be trouble,
A partner in crime,
A scapegoat in future rubble.
My girls are on the cusp,
Of discovering each other,
I look forward to watching,
Them love one another.
The highs will be high,
And the lows will be low,
But I’ll be with my girls,
From now to the afterglow.
In the meantime,
I’ll appreciate every single day,
And for this journey we’re on,
I’ll show my girls the way.
Sparks 