Monday, December 10, 2012

A Not-So-Short & Sweet Christmas Poem

'Twas the sixteenth night before Christmas and all through the home,
The mother was sighing, too much to be done!
Stockings were flung 'round the room without care
And off in the corner were crumbs and dog hair.

The children had finally succumbed to their beds,
With visions of torturing Mom in their heads.
The father was snoring away on the couch.
The mother, regretful for being a grouch.

The mother - she wondered how to get it all done,
The cooking, the cleaning, the laundry, the fun.
Christmas, the magical season, is here!
But, somehow, it seemed any old time of year.

The presents were bought, the Yule Tree was lit
But Mom didn't feel it, not one little bit.
She wanted her house to feel festive and warm,
The kiddos to show brotherly love - arm in arm.

She thought of  homes all over the place
Families laughing together and in loving embrace.
Baking goodies, and singing carols within,
Then she recalled how her own day had been.

It started too early, as most of her days,
But that is only the fault of her long, late night ways.
She could hear the children, their words getting hot.
Time to get busy - ready or not.

Her children were fighting to possess the remote
Boy 1 had Boy 2 in a grip, round his throat.
Turn off the TV, get a good breakfast down
Amid arm farts and butt jokes and unearthly sounds.

It's raining and their dog smells like skunk when she's wet,
And to top it all off, "She's got fleas." said the vet.
While trying to fold laundry, the Mom heard such a clatter,
She ran to their bedrooms to see what was the matter.

Boy 2's floor was covered with toys, clothes, and trash,
And Lego's flew from ceiling fan blades, with a crash.
"It wasn't me!" they both said, barely hiding their grins,
Those grins disappeared while putting things in their bins.

Outside, they threw rocks and kicked balls over the fence.
Inside, the yelling and fights made Mom tense.
She said, "Feet on the floor." and "Keep your hands to yourself!"
"Crack eggs IN the bowl." and "That vase stays on the shelf!"

The father came home, gave the mother a kiss.
He looked at his children and asked, "What did I miss?"
Their boys filled Dad in on their adventures that day;
"We made cookies, and cleaned up our rooms, and we played!"

They got through their dinner, even earned themselves sweets.
Then jammies, then reading, maybe a show; They were beat!
The mom sang the boys' songs, the dad heard their prayers.
And soon quiet started to creep through the air.

The mom felt discouraged, looking at all still to do.
Her checklist just seems to get longer, it's true!
She remembered the days before the children came.
And if she was ready for this claim to fame.

But then she remembered the old ache from the past.
And the way those small hearts filled that damned hole, at last.
Days will not be perfect, but we shouldn't compare
Others' best with our worst - that just leads to despair.

So for those two boys, snuggled down in their beds, 
Though torturous visions may be filling their heads, 
Mom is ever so grateful for the challenge they bring;
The chance to grow, to wonder, to sing.

Though twisty and turvy this tale may have been,
The point is that Mom can enjoy Christmas again.
You can hear her exclaim, perhaps with delight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

6 comments:

  1. Amy, you are so creative! I loved reading your poem. :) I know exactly how you feel. Keeping my girls busy with activities and fun is what prevents the disasters and fights--so I keep going at a pace that sometimes wears me out to the point of sickness. I just hate the fighting. Loved this!

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    1. Thanks, Kari! As a parent, it's so hard to know how to spend my time. It's crazy around here, but I've decided that crazy is better than too quiet - as much as I love quiet. I hate the fighting too.

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  2. Great poem, and I know the feeling. While my boys don't fight each other, they like to team up and fight me.

    I know I have felt like we are missing things we should do, but then I get that quiet moment in the evening when we are reading our 24 Days of Christmas together and they finally quiet down, it's magical!

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    1. Thanks, Hayley! There is something special about reading at bedtime - especially Christmas stories.

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  3. I LOVE this poem!!!! I think you did a great job, especially the ending parts. It made me cry -- especially after the events of this week, both in CT and in our family. Merry Christmas!

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