A few thoughts I had tonight, formatted into a poem with no title:
Last year’s Mothers Day
Was very bitter sweet
We were 2 weeks out ‘til baby boy
And my heart was at my feet
Anything could’ve happened,
My mind was running wild.
The unknown so unsettling,
Yet we were so close to a child.
I celebrated Mothers Day
With precaution, hope, and joy.
It wasn’t sad like years before
Because we almost had our boy.
I wanted to enjoy it
For the first time as a wife.
So the day before, I worked and cleaned,
And pondered on my life.
As I scrubbed the bathroom,
I thought of motherhood,
And as I swept and mopped my floors
I dreamed of all things good.
I planned for perfect days to come
With toys and walks and fun.
And all the while I washed and scrubbed
‘Til my job was finally done.
I sat back and admired the house
I’d just spruced unto a home.
Then kicked back and waited patiently
For Mothers Day to come.
And it did, it came and went
With flowers, cards, and all.
But looking back on that day
There isn’t much that I recall.
I know my house was spotless
Everything put away.
But nothing else stands out to me
About that Mothers Day.
Fast forward one whole year to now,
My word, how life as changed.
We’ve moved across the country
My whole life’s been rearranged.
But perhaps the greatest change of all
Is sleeping in his bead.
With a lamb and blanket by his side
Sweet dreams filling his head.
I look at him with Mothers Day
Coming in the morn’,
And my the difference he has made
Just by being born.
Instead of a picture perfect house
With nothing out of place,
Tonight the pile of laundry
Could reach to outer space.
And rather than a dish-rack full
Of sparkling silverware
My kitchen has exploded and
There are green beans in my hair.
The bathroom in and of itself
Is a special work of art.
The floor is wet, the counter and the sink,
Well I can’t tell them apart.
The family room’s another story
Strewn with books and toys.
I’ve tripped in there 5 times today
On a dumb toy that makes noise.
To sum it up, my house is gross
Nothing like last year.
But a filthy house means more to me,
Because it means that Nolan’s here.
Toys left out, train tracks around
And books left on the rug,
Means that we got to read and play today
Which means I got a hug.
Suds and water on the floor,
Of a bathroom filled with grime,
Means we splashed and laughed and made a mess,
And that’s worth all the slime.
And my dirty kitchen, though disturbing
Tells a story too, you know.
Of a full tummy, and a smiling face,
As he tastes some cookie dough.
So when I look back, one year ago
To a childless Mothers Day
And how I thought I’d done alright
Because my house looked fresh as day.
I get a tad bit jealous,
That my home had circumspection,
But all it takes, is one looks around
To know that this life is perfection.
I’d never trade a dusted shelf
For my play dates with my boy.
And between the two, a crisp made bed,
Is second to that noisy toy.
There’s more to life than ironed shirts,
And gourmet dinners in the oven.
There are games to play, books to read,
And an awful lot of lovin’.
So as I look around tonight
At my home in disarray,
I know that tomorrow, without a doubt,
Will be the best 1st Mothers Day.
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Today is Birth Mothers Day. Where would I be today without the amazing birth mothers in the world? For starters I wouldn't have 2 of the greatest men I know as my brothers. And, I wouldn't have Nolan. Those are thoughts that are almost unbearable, and I owe so much to the amazing, strong, selfless women that birth mothers are.
Happy Birth Mothers Day, Kenz. You are the woman that made me a mother, and you are the best birth mother a Nolan could have. We love you to the moon and back.
