Annika's Puberty Poem

"The time has come," my Annika said.
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes and clothes and puberty."
Oh the horror that this brings.
"And why babies are born this way
And whether it may sting."
"But wait a bit!" the mommy cried.
"Before we have our chat."
I'm not prepared, because you are 9
Let me wrap my head around that.
"No hurry" said my Annika. 
And so we talked and sat.


Annika is 11 now, it took me forever to post this because I forgot I wrote it. But every time I look at her now I am forced to remember.

Bailey's Bedtime Song

There there,
Little Girl,
There there.
It's time for sleep
Don't be scared.

The moon is out,
The stars say hello.
We send our love
To everybody we know.

We hear the waves crash
As the whales swim on by.
It's raining now,
My heart beats alive.

There there,
Little Girl,
There there.
It's time for sleep
Don't be scared.

I love you my dear, 
It's not as hard as it seems.
Just lay your head down
And begin your sweet dreams.

The morning will come,
And not a moment too soon,
You'll see my green eyes
And I'll see your blue.

There there,
Little Girl,
There there.
It's time for sleep
Don't be scared.



So please stop waking up at 3am.

Love,
Mommy

Laughter: A Prompt

I was perusing the craigslist jobs site to see if there was anything good listed in Wilmington, and no there wasn't per usual. I clicked on a creative writing ad poster and it brought me to this writing site called Monologging. They are having a contest on 250 word monologue using prompt words. Well, it is in its last week, so I of course found it now and not back in April when it first started. I like to write every now and then ; ) so I submitted to it. For those of you strangers who are creepily stalking me. I work at a bank and a while back I was robbed. Not the note over the counter that accounts for 98% of all robberies, but a man came in and pointed an assault rifle at me. Here is what I submitted:

Laughter: A Prompt

A twinkle in an eye. A smile on red lips. I see laughter infiltrate the most guarded of souls, uplift the hopeful and live richly in the joy of children. Mostly in my kids. We love to laugh, in a most Mary Poppinish way. It is what I am known for. My smile. My crinkle eyes. My genuineness. How can I make your day? How can we share a connection in the most simplest and intimate of forms? Remember me for me. Not for how I helped you. Not for how long you waited. Not for how angry you are at the corporation I work for. But, instead, think of how comfortable I made you feel. How your bad day seemed a bit brighter. How endorphin pumped through your system and gave you a feel good high. I physically deal dollars, but I emotionally deal happiness. And yes, you all come back for more…and not just for money. You come to see the glint in my eyes. Hear my happy greeting. Bask in the warmth I exude that brings a blush to your cheeks. But not you Sir. You who have made your children laugh. You who know the difference between right and wrong. You, who when I asked how I could help you in a cheerful sing-song happy voice, pointed an assault rifle at my chest. You were able to wipe the laughter from my face. I deal in money and happiness, you dealt with my life.

So who knows, maybe I will win back my $2 it took to submit. Two dollars!!!I want my two dollars!!!!! Anybody? Better Off Dead? No? Yesssssssssss! :) Oh yeah, update, the man did not shoot and kill me. In case you were wondering. Please stop reading my blog if you were.