Monday, November 23, 2009

Eight Years

For eight years I have been a mother.
For eight years I have had another human being (and then two) relying on me for
food, shelter, love, acceptance
and to keep all their fingers and toes attached.
To that end, I have developed
eyes on the back of my head to see who did what to whom,
an extra ear to hear what is really going on in the back seat of the van,
arms that can carry backpacks, jackets, art projects, snacks
and Star Wars figures all without losing any light sabres and
a sixth sense to know who needs a hug and who needs an attitude adjustment.
When all that fails, I have made it up as I went along.

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