Tiny pieces of paper strewn from an afternoon of cutting
Plastic men ready to attack on his command
Spilled juice causing havoc on surfaces
Oh how it irks me
It enrages me
Those men and paper and tiny spills
Overwhelm my ability to think straight
He is normal
I am not
I tell him that he is brilliant
And then I stifle his creativity
Maybe a new mom is what he needs
A mom without OCD
He says no
You are the best mom ever
I lay in my bed engulfed with this statement
And I cry…..
I cry for his soul
Hoping that I do not ruin him
5 comments:
lol...that made me smile.
Chill mah babies...!
Hang tough, H. The time and heart you invest today will bloom in season...
Beckyjo, did you read the same poem that I did?
IT was just how I was feeling at that moment...life is good with us! NO worries people!
The venting of a mother in verse is a beautiful thing.
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