Death in a Bowl
I killed my child's fish
Changing its guppy water
Right down the drain ... oops.
Tournament
Watching you play ball
It's hot. Pray your team loses ...
So I can go home.
Adolescencia
I liked you better
When you were small and still thought
I was really cool.
Summer Camp Blues
Pickup is at three?
I don't get off until four.
Won't you keep my kid?
I love my children more than anything in the universe, up to and including chocolate. My seventeen-year-old son is one of the kindest, most moral people I know. He also happens to be tall and handsome and a great student. My fourteen-year-old is a philosopher, wise beyond his years, and so athletic he already has various coaches bickering over where he should "take his talents." (He did not get this from me, BTW) Their little sister, AKA "The Littlest" was a true surprise gift from God, and not a day goes by that her smiles and never-ending stream of consciousness don't bring immense joy to us all.
Having said that ... there are times when the kids drive me crazy, and when motherhood (especially when juggled with the financial necessity of employment) really makes me question my better self. When that happens, what else to do but Haiku?
What about you, gentle readers? How do you cope with the dichotomy that is parenthood?
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