“I can, but I can!”

“I can, but I can!”

His small face ablaze

Part conviction, part plan.

He can go to the park on his own (in the rain, in the dark).

He can tie his laces (with shoes on wrong feet and socks turned around …).

He can eat three big slices of pizza (before finishing one).

He can drive the car (“the real one, with the key!”).

He can take a bath on his own (“Mommy help me get in …”).

He can dress himself (two legs in one pant, head wedged in a sleeve).

He can use a phone (especially “Delete” …).

And he certainly can, he is sure

Stay awake

All night long.

He’s not sleepy.

He won’t even be tired

Tomorrow.

Or ever.

Till he is “really big.”

He can stay up.

And not sleep.

Even as eyes flutter closed … and he yawns and he yawns and he ….

makingmotherhoodmatter-com

 

For The Daily Prompt

Can Someday be Today?

dressup

“Can we go to the candy store?”

“Not today. Maybe another day.”

“Can we go to the park?”

“Later, Sweetie. It is raining now.”

Fidget, fidget, scan the room.

“Can I have a phone?”

“Maybe one day.”

“Can we go to Disney Land?”

“Maybe someday.”

Sigh.

Another one.

“Can someday be today?”

 

 

 

For The Daily Post

Daily Prompt: Someday

Stuck on

He won’t let her have a quiet cup of coffee.

He won’t let her sleep.

He needs her when she bathes

Or pees.

He whines during any of her conversations

Cares little for her schedule

Her meetings

Her needs.

He requires constant attention

Won’t be left alone

Must come along.

That phone.

 

phone-getty-images

 

 

For The Daily Post

 

 

Shine

fall back clock

From Etsy

She looked at me with sparkles in her eyes: “My Granny’s coming tomorrow!”

I smiled.

“We going to have so much fun!” Her eyes shone. “Granny is my favorite grandma ever forever!”

“You’re excited she’s coming,” I stated.

The child gave me the “that’s-the-understatement-of-the-year-look.”

The mom and I exchanged glances and laughed.

“Can you imagine her as a teenager?” the mom noted, chuckled. “She’s practicing the eye-roll already …”

The little girl transferred “the look” to her mom, but only half-heartedly. They were both of them quite giddy with the prospect of the visit. The grandma lives out of the country but the bond is evident. I often hear tales of simultaneous cookie-baking on both sides of the Atlantic, bedtime stories on FaceTime, and daily checking-ins. Now Granny will manifest in real life, and Mom’s eyes–an only child herself–were just as shiny as her daughter’s.

“She going to stay in my room,” the four-year-old danced on her feet, shoes alight with strobes and glitter. “I have the best comfy bed for her …” she lowered her voice in exaggerated gossip-conspiration, “because she old … but …” she glanced at her mother, maybe aware of the weight of possibility or maybe remembering the source of the added information, maybe both, “…she not dying yet. She just a little bit very old.”

 

For The Daily Post: Shine

 

 

Infinite sweetness

elephant attachment

There’s so much harshness and rigidity, so many difficult realities, hardened views, unyielding opinions, and limited acceptance all around, that it can be easy to forget the infinite sweetness that exists all around us.

The infinite sweetness

In a baby’s smile.

In a youngling’s antics.

In the green of an unfurling leaf.

In a stranger’s compassion.

In a perfect strawberry.

In a sip of tea on snowy days.

In the sigh of warm bath water.

In the life that sheds and lives and sheds and lives in all around us.

In the repeating revolution of this planet, hurtling as it is through space in speeds we cannot comprehend and yet are an integral part of.

The infinite sweetness of what can be remembered with nostalgia and what is hoped for and may well become — or may just, possibly, find pathways.

To infinity.

SpaDec2013no1

Photo Credit A.A.