Peanut butter and Jam

                                                                       I heart thee.

                                                                       On dreary days

                                                                       with long afternoons

                                                                       my littles have loved you

                                                                        by spoonfuls

                                                                        On rushed mornings

                                                               when my hands turned wood

                                                                       you have made

                                                                       hurried lunches good

                                                                       You have served

                                                                       some dinner nights

                                                                        when blown off

                                                                        were my eye lights

                                                                       You have let me be lazy

                                                                        saved me from crazy

                                                                        A keeper you are

                                                                        when a bummer I am

                                                                         I heart thee

                                                                   Peanut butter and Jam.

Sunday afternoon. A play.



ARBOR : seven years.

AURELIUS: two years.

MOMMY: frantic as always.

DADDY: not home and badly missed by mommy.

STAGE: Concrete inferno outside. Inside is a swept floor sprinkled with Legos. Two little boys after their long breakfast and bath ritual are finally sitting down to build. Daddy is gone to work. Weekends aren’t weekends.Mommy is pleased with herself for having done much in the morning.And now is planning to sneak into the kitchen and gobble up some nourishment. Daddy has been texting her about this. So she must eat before she forgets.


One peaceful minute has passed. Continue reading Sunday afternoon. A play.

Some days

Everything is sticky. And I am stuck in gluey puddles. Coated in crumbs.

Banana bits and dried dough is all over me. And chocolate I wiped off the toddler’s thumbs.

A buttered book to read aloud. Some ‘ How many apples left?’ sums to teach.

Some snot , some tears and other runny things. AND my dress matches the broccoli just steamed.

My patience, people, is walking on eggshells when



“MOMMMY me wants water”

Well, that reminds me how nice a shower would be.

But no, not at all.It can not be.

We have more mango mess to make.

Some tantrums to fake.





For the tired new mommy

Here is a hug. You need one so desperately. One more. Just for YOU.

You are tired, hurting, sad and maybe you do not know what to do with yourself. You are lonely. You can ‘t sleep and you can’t stay up.You know not why your baby is crying. You are edgy.Irritated with your man for he doesn’t seem to know what you want. Or how to help. You don’t want to wash your face and you hate the flabby tummy. Nothing is nice. Everything is wrong. You can’t ask for help. Your baby is beautiful but you are lost. Your breasts are agonizingly painful and baby wouldn’t latch.The whole damn world seems to be happy and frolicking. But here in you, everything is annoying.Gloomy.Even your toes feel awkward. Continue reading For the tired new mommy