Poems and quotes on parenting

August 4, 2011. Posted in: Humor & Wisdom

Poems and Quotes on Parenting

summersweet

What Did I Do Today?

What did I do today?
Today I left some dishes dirty,
The bed got made around 3:30.
The diapers soaked a little longer,
The odor grew a little stronger.
The crumbs I spilled the day before,
Are staring at me from the floor.
The fingerprints there on the wall,
Will likely be there still next fall.
The dirty streaks on those window panes,
Will still be there next time it rains.
Shame on you, you sit and say,
Just what did you do today?

I nursed a baby till he slept,
I held a toddler while she wept.
I played a game of hide and seek,
I squeezed a toy so it would squeak.
I pulled a wagon, sang a song,
Taught a child right from wrong.
What did I do this whole day through?
Not much that shows, I guess that’ s true.
Unless you think that what I’ve done,
Might be important to someone,
With bright brown eyes and soft brown hair,
If that is true…I’ve done my share.

—–Author Unknown

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lilac

Childhood Doesn’t Wait

I was sitting on a bench
while in a nearby mall,
When I noticed a young mother
with two children who were small.

The youngest one was whining,
“Pick me up,” I heard him beg
but the mother’s face grew angry
as the child clung to her leg.

“Don’t hang on to me,” she shouted
as she pushed his hands away,
I wish I’d had the courage
to go up to her and say…

“The time will come too quickly
when those little arms that tug,
Won’t ask for you to hold them
or won’t freely give a hug.

“The day will sneak up subtly
just as it did with me,
When you can’t recall the last time
that your child sat on your knee.

“Like those sacred, pre-dawn feedings
when we cherished time alone
Our babies grow and leave behind
those special times we’ve known.

“So when your child comes to you
with a book that you can share,
Or asks that you would tuck him in
and help him say his prayer…

“When he comes to sit and chat
or would like to take a walk,
Before you answer that you can’t
`cause there’s no time to talk

“Remember what all parents learn
so many times too late,
That years go by too quickly
and that childhood doesn’t wait.

“Take every opportunity,
if one should slip away
Reach hard to get it back again,
don’t wait another day.”

I watched that mother walk away
her children followed near,
I hope she’ll pick them up
before her chances disappear.

—–Kathie Phillips Davis

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crinum

A Mother’s Prayer

Dear Lord, It’s such a hectic day,
With little time to stop and pray,
For Life’s been anything but calm,
Since You called me to be a Mom,
Running errands, matching socks,
Building dreams with matching blocks,
Cooking, cleaning, finding shoes,
And other stuff that children lose,
Fitting lids on bottled bugs,
Wiping tears and giving hugs,
A stack of last week’s mail to read,
So where’s the quiet time I need?
Yet, when I steal a moment, Lord,
Just at the sink or ironing board,
To ask the blessings of Your grace,
I see them, in my small one’s face,
That you have blessed me
All the while –
And I stoop to kiss
That precious smile.

—–Author Unknown

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lilac

All Through the Night

MIDNIGHT
Your son is born.
Pushed forth in joyful triumph.
He comes wet and wriggling into your eager arms.
First he licks, but slowly you teach him to nurse.
A little later, you laugh at his quizzical look when he tastes the first rush of milk.
So you keep him next to you all the warm, tender night.
Drinking and growing, drinking and growing,
With no thought of time.

ONE A.M.
Your one-year-old is sleeping on your arm.
No longer tiny, but chubby-legged and strong.
His curly head so heavy on your aching arm–
Though Lord knows it should be strong enough after carrying him all day.
Let’s try to move it — oh, oh, no good.
“Yes, yes, hungry one,” you murmur. “Here it is.”
You might as well forget the arm and try to doze off again.

TWO A.M.
Can anything beat a two-year-old cutting his molars in the middle of the night?
You feel as if he’s going to tear you to bits.
Nothing seems to work anymore.
You’ve given and given until there’s nothing left.
Will this long night ever end?

THREE A.M.
Your three-year-old is nursing quietly.
How long has it been? Well, long enough.
You might as well try it — it usually works.
“Honey, Mommy wants to go sleepy now. O.K.?”
Muttering, “O.K.,” he rolls over and begins to snore.
Gratefully you snuggle down under the covers between two warm bodies.

FOUR A.M.
Your long-legged four-year-old is tossing and moaning.
Suddenly he cries out in terror, “Mommy! Mommy!”
Coming up out of a deep sleep, you move towards him.
A nightmare again. Ah, well.
“Don’t be afraid, sweetheart. Mommy’s here. Here.”
All is quiet.

FIVE A.M.
The sound of your five-year-old giggling softly intrudes on your sleep.
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh, I was just thinking about when I dranked your milk.”
“Oh, really? I thought you’d forgotten all about that. Anyway, what’s so funny about that?”
“Nothing. I just feel happy to think about it. . . . . Mommy?”
“What? Oh. Oh, well. Just this once.”

SIX A.M.
Your six-year-old is looking down at you in the half-light of dawn.
“Mommy, Daddy. It’s kind of cold in my new room. Can I come in with you?”
“Sure, honey.”

SEVEN A.M.
The alarm goes off. You are alone in the big bed.
From the bathroom come voices. Your seven-year-old is watching his dad shave.
You realize with a start that nobody asked for anything all night long.
Not even a drink of water.
You sigh and wonder why the years go by as fast as hours.
And in your heart you’re glad you had those times together.
All through the night.

—–by Kathy Eickmann

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crinum

creepingjenny

Note: If no author is given, then the author is unknown. A lot of these writings have been circulating around via email for years. If you are the author of any of these poems, please e-mail me, and I will (according to your wishes) either give you written credit for your writing, or remove it from this website.

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