Over the shower, I can hear their din.
Shouting, fighting, crying,
“It’s mine!” they yell. “Stop!”
I want to echo their noise,
Whine back at the madness.
Really, fighting before breakfast should be outlawed.
There once was dog named Monday,
Who thought getting out meant equaled a Fun Day,
The neighbor’s dog she bit,
Jac had a fit,
And that nearly was the end of Monday.
Wonky Shopping Cart
Wobbly wheels locking up
Why must you wait until now,
Loaded up, you break.
Thanks for not talking.
Sometimes I like silence, too.
Today is that day.
Over and over
Gah! This is maddening!
How do I get rid of it?
Always on EVERYTHING
It is everywhere.
Right now I want to run away.
Baby love, you’re just seven months,
Barely tinged with the Sun’s loving blush;
First you scoot, then you crawl,
THEN you stand up – what’s your rush?
I know you think you’re a big girl,
We say you are all of the time,
But that’s just words said, spoken aloud,
In truth, you’re as small as a dime.
So hold onto your horses, young lady,
And take it slow for your mama,
The way that you’re growing- ti must be said-
Is adding nothing but drama.
Makes me gag
You smell like poo
Forever I took you for granted,
I thought we’d always be close.
Though now with the milk ban,
I’m still your biggest fan,
But imbibing means a Benadryl dose.
August means summer
Not sickness and suffering
Pass the tissues please.
It has been a week. One of THOSE weeks. Bickering children, too much to do and a little bit of puny feeling all mixed together and we survived it. I survived, thanks in large part to gummy bears, a forgiving husband and some Olympics. And nothing really says ‘T.G.I.F.!” quite like a good haiku, right?
A very happy birthday to Mama Syd! We owe you an extravaganza!