Gift 12/28/2016

Finally getting Girlie to go to sleep
this morning was my gift from her.

I’m sure she didn’t plan it
any more than the average
three year old plans to be
awake screaming through
most of the night,

but I’m taking this gift
from my child as a cherished one.

My fourth child has some complications
and I resist the urge to call in a
specialist because she’s three and

I want her to have some
time in her life that is normal,
as normal as a child who had
unexplained seizures then was put
on anti-seizure medication that has
created/contributed to her developmental delay.

Her speech is garbled like
she has a mouth full of marbles.

Sometimes when she wants to,
she enunciates very clearly,
articulating the fact that
we are having a problem understanding her,
not the other way around.

I think she can hear and understand me,
but her communication doesn’t always seem
to reach her mouth.

I can’t remember learning how to talk.
My mom says my brother and I were early talkers.

My earliest phrase being something like,
“All bad animals got to hell.”
Yeah, really.

My mom showed me the baby book and everything.
At least I have a memory of seeing that. Or,
I remember dreaming that I remembered that.
My grasp on my reality and memory is getting
more tenuous as the years pass. Sigh.

My older children were early talkers as well.
The first and third being vocal, opinionated,
fun and playful with their word choice.

My second son, the deep thinker, has
recently become less monosyllabic.
He does drama and I know he ‘gets’
more things than people realize.

He feels more too, I think,
but that is for him to discover.

I have done my job well.
I birthed independent creatures.
They are musical, crafty, artistic,
kids, who can socialize with
young children through adults.

Today, I am exhausted. Well, I’ve been exhausted for a long while really.
I feel like this parenting thing lies solely in my hands.

The stability and the responsibility,
the learning and the morals come from me.

My ex used to say that he felt
there was a role reversal between us.

I am the male of the relationship.
He called me controlling. I just
wanted our children to learn how to read,
comprehend directions and debate
why it makes sense to do these things.

I guess being a responsible human is
not a prerequisite for parenting.

I’m a terrible judge of character.
I find the positive in people that I
should run screaming away from.

Great, melancholy in the new year.
or a continuation of the previous year.

This is not a surprise,
I’m always this way.
I have to accept this
as a part of who I am.

It’s like expecting 100%
germination rate from five
year old seeds that
have been kept on the hot,
humid dashboard in Ohio.

No, I never kept my seeds there,
but it would be cool to have
a daisy burst from the dashboard.

Yes, the junk car of my dreams with indoor flowers. Hah!

The only sunflower fell over