Healing

Give yourself

Time to heal

From wounds

Too deep to mention.

Surround yourself

With people who

Would love you, for you

Without apprehension.

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Baby. A Poem for My Children

I will sit here

on the edge of your bed.

I will kiss all your booboos

From your feet to your head.

I will sing another lulliby

I will make goofy faces

When you cry.

I will teach you

Right from wrong

Yes, I’ll sing you ONE more song.

I’ll tell you “maybe”

When I know I mean “no”

I will show you which way

Your shoelaces go.

I will help you zip zippers, ride the bus and make soup

I will guide passed first breakups

And how you recoup.

I will be here

To wipe boogers and tears

I will be here

To chase away your fears.

I am your momma

You are my little me

You are my baby

And that you’ll always be.

An Open Letter to My Daughter When She’s Grown Up

I grew up with the idea that woman are meek, fragile, damsels in distress, the princess in a tower who’s prince kisses her in her sleep and everything is sunshine and roses.
I grew up with Photoshop enhanced models telling me to wear this or be uncool, magazine covers touted “10 Best Weight Loss Tips” and “Lose those love handles!”
Now that I am looking back, I see my mother in the middle of it all, going back to college for yet another degree, typing late into the night, the glow of our bulky computer, the dial up internet helping her on her way.
I see her working overtime.
I see her missing whole chunks of the day with us at work again, then class, then home making handmade dinner for the 5 of us.
I didn’t see it then, the echoes of my peers and media bouncing around my head. Self conscious images reverberating back to me.
Too short. Too fat. Bad skin. Old clothes. Gross. I saw myself as gross and I know I’m not alone in having this experience of soul crushing, vastly distorted self awareness. We suffered silently together. Each picking away at ourselves in the mirror each day in our own ways. Pinching cellulite and attempting to tame poofy hair with endless hair spray and bobby pins. Dressing too grown up or covering ourselves in oversized clothes.
Is it right for children to feel this way? Does every generation have this awful phenomenon of self loathing and deprivation of love and worth? How could we not see the good at work around and within our lives? Maybe it was because we were so hyper focused on every detail of ourselves?

I can’t travel back in time to deliver some self esteem to my younger self, or redirect my attention to the strong, successful, intelligent woman in my life, but I can give that to my daughter.

Baby girl,
I hope you are confident. I hope your ego is inflated so high that you rise above the lies society will fill your world with. But not so high that you lose yourself within the clouds.
I hope that you walk into a room with your head high, shoulders back and know that you are going to make it through anything your day throws at you.
I hope wear black. I hope you wear bright colored lipstick and experiment with crazy colored everything. I hope you go through each phase having a blast discovering what you like to wear and who you might enjoy growing into as a person.
I hope you stay curious and research everything and anything that pops into your head even as some around you may laugh at school or reading, I hope you stay deep within a pile of books and relish every new nibble of information.
I hope that when you are brave enough to approach your crush, no matter how it goes, the possibility of rejection does not crush you.
I will build you up so high that no one will be able to knock you down.
I will build you and your brother up to be kind and aware that his actions and words matter.

You can get through this baby girl, I’ll be right there with you.

Late night, Baby is Sick Entry

Tonight, well, lately really, I weigh 21 pounds more than I usually do. No, it’s not some crazy food addiction or anything like that. Lately, I carry the weight of my daughter as my own. She is sick and clings to me, who am I kidding though, I cling to her too, I’m terrified when she’s sick.

Watching your child go from their normal little wild self, playing and causing mischief, to what being sick reduces them to… I can’t think of much worse for the everyday parent stuff than that.

She shivers as her fever breaks, her breathing is erratic, she’s coughing up things and her little face is so sad. I feel so bad for her, if only there was a way to explain to a baby that these things will pass. If I could relay the message somehow that what she’s feeling is only temporary wouldn’t that be so much better!

Poor sweet girl. My legs ache from the added weight of her. My back is protesting any more bouncing, my old hip injury is screaming at me. I won’t put her down, my discomfort is the only thing keeping my child calm, my arms wrapped around her, rocking her all hours of the night as she battles this latest illness are the only comforts she has that I can give her. Kisses and soft strokes of her fuzzy hair, what any parent wouldn’t give to be able to take the hurt away from their baby!

This week I gained 21 pounds. I’m okay with it, it’s worth every ounce to let her know I’ve got her, always.

Unexpected Benefits of a Weed.

Have you seen these plants? They are called Broadleaf or Broadleaf Plantain
It grows especially well in poor, rocky soil (such as driveways) and is often seen alongside dandelion. More often than not, you will see plantain growing in gravel pits and construction sites as nature seeks to regenerate the soil. Introduced to North America in the 1600s, it was once called “White Man’s Foot” by the Native Americans who witnessed that where the Europeans tread and disrupted the soil, plantain sprung up.
Plantain has often been the go-to remedy for hikers plagued by mosquitos. Because it draws toxins from the body with its astringent nature, plantain may be crushed (or chewed) and placed as a poultice directly over the site of bee stings, bug bites, acne, slivers, glass splinters, or rashes. Bandage the area and allow the plantain to work its magic for 4-12 hours. Plantain may also be used to create a balm for emergency kits, or an infusion used as a skin or general wash.

Plantain is renowned for its healing effect on the digestive system. This is especially useful for anyone who has been damaged by antibiotics, anti-inflammatory or pain medications, food allergies, or Celiac disease. Both leaves and seeds specifically target the digestive system for healing. The leaves may be steeped as tea, added to soups, or dried with a sauce similar to kale chips. The seeds – a type of psyllium – can be ground or soaked for bulk mucilage or absorbable fibre, which, consumed before meals, may help with weight loss.
Because plantain is a gentle expectorant and high in silica, an infusion can be helpful for lung problems, coughs, and colds.
Plantain is almost a panacea for the human body, treating everything from all menstrual difficulties, all digestive issues, to nearly all skin complaints, and even arthritis. Add to salads, chew to ease thirst, or enjoy in stir fries.

Not all “weeds” are useless, in fact many other wild, seemingly random growing plants have very versatile uses. It’s worth looking up the things in your yard and gardens and becoming better acquainted with what their natural uses are!

The Dishes Can Wait

My baby is growing

The dishes are piling up

My baby is sleeping

My coffees gone cold in the cup.

My baby, she’s growing

The laundry still waits in the dryer.

Her eyes laugh, full of love,

As Daddy tosses her higher.

She’s growing now

Inch by inch

Day by day

Every new morning

A new word comes her way.

“Mama. Daddy and Yes”

My baby she’s growing

Forget the dusting, the mess.

The blessings they pile

Like gifts at our feet.

I’ll abandon the bed making

Any old day, for her smile

Helicopter Mom

I am the helicopter mom

The mom who’s 4 month old stopped breathing

At 2am

Laying next to me

I could sense his heart stop

By the stillness in the air

Where would he be

If I hadn’t been there?

I am the helicopter mom

Who’s child is always falling

Crashing

Bruised and crying

If I said I didn’t picture him

In the emergency room again

I would be lying.

I am the helicopter mom

Who’s child has scars

And stitches

And teary nights

Driving him to sleep in the car.

I am the helicopter mom

Who is always right there

Hovering

Worrying

With a weight of worry

To heavy to bear.

Love Growing

I have always hated my brown eyes

“Brown eyes are gross”

My brother spewed lies.

I have always hated

My spindly long fingers

“I have big hands, like a man”

I still hide them in my pockets

Whenever I can.

I have always hated

My humidity fluffed hair

A mass of red brown tangles

I put it up atop my head & neglect it there.

I hated my them in thoughts I kept

Until I saw them on my daughter

And I wept.

Big brown eyes

Like chocolate, like silk

Stare up at me blinking softly

While she drinks her milk.

Eyes like her mother

Eyes that I love.

A poof of auburn curls

That smell sweet like lavender

I have never seen anything

Of that caliber.

She holds her hand up

To my face, for a kiss on the palm

And I’d be lying if I said

She didn’t have hands like her mom.