Dandelion

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My favourite flower is the dandelion
With its bright orange leaves and green, green stem
The dandelion that I would grasp in my hands as a child
And carefully deliver to my mother, with love

My favourite flower is the dandelion
As a first sign of spring
Sprouting above the thick, green grass
Growing tall before the lawn mower crops it away

My favourite flower is the dandelion
When my mother would braid crowns for me out of flowers of sunshine
That I would wear proudly and feel like a princess

My favourite flower is the dandelion
That my daughter hunts in the yard
Like treasures she finds, squealing with delight
As she clasps the buds in her little yellow fingers

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY, MUM!

Our Things

It feels strange sitting among all these boxes
Items we marked with an ‘x’
To indicate they were necessary,
Things we couldn’t live without.
Most these things seem trivial.
We don’t even need to unpack.
We’ve lived 3 months without them.
Do we really need them back?
Now all the possessions feel heavy
With responsibility, space and clutter.
Staring at all these ‘things’
What really comes to mind
Is that when we left for those months
We took what mattered most.

What if

As Christmas nears
This year much more quickly than the last
It’s hard to get into the spirit
Somehow the world seems upside down
So close, yet so far, from so much sorrow the world over.
Feeling my privileged guilt
That I’m not supposed to feel
Or that I can feel but must follow with some action.
Yet I feel frozen into inaction.
Overwhelmed by all the need.
As though I can’t focus on every need,
And so I focus on none.
What if I fundraised?
What if I donated?
What if I gave some time?
What if I dedicated my life to activism?
But yet the fear of somehow abusing my privilege has me frozen once more.
I fear screwing things up with good intentions.
The self-righteous saviour.
But won’t I look back and wish I had done more?
No one knows that I am frozen due to too much caring (whatever that means).
What will be remembered is how we acted in these times (or didn’t act)
While others suffered so.

While others suffered so
And I’m frozen in inaction.
Compassion overload, compassion exhaustion.
And I haven’t even gotten started yet.

I Chew This

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Chew, chew, chew
Num, num, num
Teething baby chews.
Baby chews bottle
Baby chews straw
Baby leaves scratches all over Mummy’s sunglasses.
Chew, chew, chew
Drool, drool, drool
Stickers? Baby eats them.
Tablet? Baby mouths it.
Fingers? Take a chomp on those.

3 teeth all at once.
Chew, chew, chew.

It’s easy to forget you’re 8 months old

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It’s easy to forget you’re 8 months old.
With your large personality
And infectious laugh.
Your strong will
And your powerful little body.
It’s easy to forget that your entire life surrounds simple principles:
Like food, sleep and clean diapers.

It’s easy to forget you’re 8 months old.
You show so many adult qualities:
Glee, anger, curiosity and indifference.
It’s easy to get frustrated when you have a meltdown:
You were so reasonable just a second ago.
In your very mature way
Tagging along in our adult world.

It’s easy to forget you’re 8 months old,
And there’s practically nothing a nap won’t fix.

These Moments

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In the end, what we’ll remember are these moments.
Moments marked in time, yet unremarkable.
Together, endless days, aimless wanderings.
Enjoying the world through each other’s eyes.
Feeling our way through a world wholly new.
Slowing our pace for each other.
Deciding to do nothing at all
Still ends up creating a moment.
A moment in time we’ll never get back
But we’ll hold with us forever.

My hope for you

I hope you’ve gotten your Dad’s patience
And just a touch of my stubbornness.
I hope you learn to be kind
To people, animals, the planet and, most importantly, yourself.
May you laugh often.
May you cry freely.
May you understand struggle, but never have to truly struggle.
I’m hopeful that you’ve inherited my outgoingness
And tons of your dad’s creativity.
I wish for you to love yourself.
And I wish that you love life
For it’s beauty, and it’s pain.
For it’s quirky and it’s plain.

Most of all, I hope that you are happy.

Life’s Wonder is upon us

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As we leave on this new adventure
I’m proud of us today
For creating the world we want
Our little girl to be raised in

While she won’t remember
Specific sights, tastes or sounds
She’ll forever be influenced
By the freedom of it all

2 months we’ll spend focused
On her and us alone
Grasping life’s wonder
And turning it into our own

Hungry Hippo

I live in a home with a hungry hippo.
She’s always there, just one step away.
I spend my life trying to feed the hippo
But the hunger never stops.
Just when I begin to forget the feeding trough, I hear the call again.
That hungry, hungry hippo is driving me insane.