Wednesday, 13 September 2017

verse: the finest

now am I the finest
arbiter in town
the go-to
the final
the latest
the ultimate
the best
they don't do it without me.

The Laundry Fairy.

Tuesday, 12 September 2017

verse: tantrum 11 Sept 2017

why o why my tempestuous rise, with each screech she accuses
I am all reason in all seasons, yet with each screech she doth dispute
my ire perturbed and equilibrium disturbed, tattered mine repute

was I ever a calm personage, gracing my fellows with respect
was I ever a calm visage, spake softly my peers with circumspect
was I ever a calming engagement, just and wise - or just suspect?

my nerves are shattered
my sanity all scattered
my mind mindless in time

in space I sob
I am all robbed
who am I?

I am sad
I am mad
I am anger personified
I am a hurricane whipping debris
causing repercussions inconsiderately

Sound and fury, signifying
...something.

Monday, 11 September 2017

Verse: hear play 9 Sept 2017

Brushing hair with pinky-sized pink plastic brushes
Solid plastic purple- and yellow-dressed
Princesses turned upside down
Their heads used pretending to squirt
Miscellaneous unknowable gooey hair product
Into eager clever hands
Mushing pretend goo
Scrunching as a stylist
Through my curtain
Silver-streaked and brown and variegated black
Pulled and tweaked and teased
She chortles and cackles and
cackles more chortles
irresistibly

Sunday, 10 September 2017

Story: Bundle's story

Once upon a time there was a little girl named Bundle. She is a delightful person and I am pleased to introduce her to you.

She enjoys her scooter very much. With her Go-go-green helmet to protect her head and brain, she became very skilled.

She can scoot up a hill, with her mother chasing after. Sometimes she let her mother catch her.

Sometimes she let her mother pull her and her scooter up the hill. Sometimes they walk together, pushing the scooter.

Sometimes Bundle has an accident which even the helmet couldn't stop. But always her head and brain is protected.

Even if her nose, chin, elbow, knees, palms get scraped and scarred.

Saturday, 9 September 2017

Verse: Spring rain 8 Sept 2017

in a life so bland and damp
in a home so moistly warm
in a bed so fully shared

loud it drops on sturdy roof
loud it thuds on thundering panes
hidden are the wary beasts

muzzle peeping out snuffling
scent warily for the hint
yea, verily seeking scrabbling

any break retreat and pause
easement grateful aural remission
bombardment ceases

Wednesday, 11 December 2013

Bringing up baby: regrets, and other news

Sadness from mummy. I have regrets.

I am regretful I haven't played with him as much as I used to. I am regretful I worked so much and hard in October.

And so, I don't know my little boy so well anymore. I am regretful for that, too.

I love him so much, and I don't know how to show it. I am lacking time to look after the house, care for my Bundle, and care for Tilly. Toys and TV are a poor substitute for quantity time.

Last week was good. As a family, we were at the playground. This week, we had lunch together and then went to the playground. I just need to be more mindful and make AND take opportunities to be with my son.

My body is still in too poor a shape for me to be as physical as I need to be with an active pre-schooler.

Tonight was sad for me. Daddy was looking after the house. Tilly brushed his teeth, mucked around by himself. Then took himself to bed quietly. He didn't want me, he wanted Daddy.

My sadness.

Last year, or earlier this year, I was His Best Friend. I got the Polar Bear (second-best toy after Koala), the one to play "Bye Bye" with, to go tree climbing with.

***
I miss how we used to push Tiily-in-a-box around the floor before bedtime. I miss reading to him. I miss playing with him.

***
In other news, Bundle is absolutely gorgeous, with the most charming smiles.

Monday, 25 November 2013

Bringing up baby: "Dum(p) Truck"

In late September, I was fortunate enough to be read to by Tilly.

It was a lovely morning, and we had a very nice few minutes at daycare. It is one of my fondest memories.

Tilly picked a book from the communal basket, and indicated that I ought to sit down beside him on the couch. We settled in, and he began reading to me.

"Dum truck," he pointed to the picture of the yellow dump truck on the cover of the book.

He opened the book.

"Dum truck," he pointed to the picture of the hero of the story. It was a toy dump truck, being played with by a boy in a sandpit.

He turned the page.

"Dum truck," he pointed. It was a picture of a real working dump truck on a construction site.

"Dum truck." Turn page. It was a picture of a real working dump truck, with dirt being put into it.

"Dum truck." Turn page. It was a picture of a real working dump truck, covered by tarpauline, carrying dirt across the city.

"Dum truck." Turn page. "Dum truck." Turn page. "Dum truck." Turn page. "Dum truck." Turn page. These were pictures of a real working dump truck, working on various jobs.

"The end." Close book.

I am charmed. My ten minutes with him at day care had alarmed a few minutes ago. And I wanted to hear him read the book some more.

"Again?" I asked him. "Shall we read the book again?"

He beamed at me, and I smiled delightedly at him.

"Dum truck," he pointed to the picture of the yellow dump truck on the cover of the book.

He opened the book.

"Dum truck," he pointed to the picture of the hero do the story.

He turned the page.

"Dum truck," he pointed.

"Dum truck." Turn page.

"Dum truck." Turn page.

"Dum truck." Turn page. "Dum truck." Turn page. "Dum truck." Turn page. "Dum truck." Turn page.

"The end." Close book.

I am wistful, and saddened. I had to go to work. No more Dum Truck for me today.