I'm not a big fan of real poetry. I don't think I'm artistic enough or cultured enough or something enough to appreciate it. I am able to write it though. Today, when I held Andrew over a barf bowl while he puked his guts out, I was reminded of a poem I wrote about 7 years ago, in the middle of the night, after nursing my sick baby back to sleep. This was when we were a family of 4 and had no idea we would be receiving a "bonus" child (further post on him coming soon). So, with no further ado, I submit my original poetry entitled...
"And Chris Makes Three"
I'm completely exhausted, yet wide awake
thinking about my kids' bellyaches.
The washer and dryer have been going non-stop
cleaning up barf and all kinds of slop.
It's been 48 hours. "We've been through the worst!"
Or so I thought til my bubble burst.
Andrew cried out from where he lay.
He barfed on me twice -- we'll be okay.
I laid him back down and prayed for us.
God likes that more than when I cuss.
I removed my pajamas (the second pair)
and took a bath with lots of fresh air.
It's 1 a.m. and I'm back in bed
when I hear a noise and lift my head.
My poor Chris is running down the hall
to upchuck his dinner, soup and all.
To hurl, ralph, or puke... it's all misery.
David, Andrew, and now Chris makes three.
Who knows? Will I make four?
Nope. I'm needed to mop up the floor.
thinking about my kids' bellyaches.
The washer and dryer have been going non-stop
cleaning up barf and all kinds of slop.
It's been 48 hours. "We've been through the worst!"
Or so I thought til my bubble burst.
Andrew cried out from where he lay.
He barfed on me twice -- we'll be okay.
I laid him back down and prayed for us.
God likes that more than when I cuss.
I removed my pajamas (the second pair)
and took a bath with lots of fresh air.
It's 1 a.m. and I'm back in bed
when I hear a noise and lift my head.
My poor Chris is running down the hall
to upchuck his dinner, soup and all.
To hurl, ralph, or puke... it's all misery.
David, Andrew, and now Chris makes three.
Who knows? Will I make four?
Nope. I'm needed to mop up the floor.
3 comments:
This is sheer brilliance. I'm sure college students will be examining, dissecting, interpreting, and reflecting on this genius in years to come. I have experienced the same and am always glad that the '24 hour flu' really does only last 24 hours.
I heart the "Puke Poem." Thanks for reminding me of your creative genius.
I too love the "Puke Poem." You are always so good at making me laugh. Keep the poems coming Krista!
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