Poetry time!
June 6, 2012Tonight Henry had to write a poem for his school anthology. His assignment was to write about a living thing that was important to him, and he was apologetic as he told me that he would probably write about the dog or the cat. I assured him that in no way did I expect him to write about me. No self-respecting grade-schooler is going to write an ode to his mother in the school anthology.
Then, together, we composed the poem that would never be published:
Mother
Skin, so soft
Smells like lavender
Hours of cuddletime
Whispered secrets
Mother
I offered to pay him real money if he put that into the anthology. He laughed so hard he got the hiccups and then happily wrote the real poem he was stressed out about a few minutes before and I high-fived myself for being the best parent in the entire universe. Sorry, rest of you. It's me!
A few minutes later we got into a fight, somehow, in that magical horrible way you do when you're talking and then you're yelling and you can't remember how your mouth went from making normal sounds to angry ones. The pants on his Lego Minifigure were wrong and he was frustrated and I didn't want to hear it and he slammed his door and I said, "When you're ready to apologize I'M NOT GOING TO ACCEPT IT," which is the funniest thing I've ever said in my life although I was dead serious, of course. As if he would have come out a few minutes later and I'd hiss, too late. Take your Lego minifigure and his incorrect pants and go. Just…just go.
Although if I had done that, think of the poet he'd turn into. Not that he needs help, because his poem about Charlie was pretty much the best. This is my unbiased opinion.
Reader Comments (20)
That is really impressive, I had heard of this before but never read up on it. I will have to go and see if there is anything I am interested in.
Do we get to see Henry's real poem?
I have a 9 yo boy too, and the thought of him bringing that poem to school... I have actual tears from laughing.
I am going to invite Becca over, because you can't fully understand this sort of thing just by reading.
Slim, thank you for taking on Becca. I know some would say she's just a bot, but damn it, even bots have FEELINGS. Right? I have to read up on that.
Bots DO have feelings.
And MAN I can't wait till my ultra-uber-super-insano-sensitive 5.5 year old is a 9 year old so when he flips out over something ridiculous (ie wrong pants on the lego man), I can yell like my brain wants me to, instead of try to explain to him why his reaction is out of proportion with reality and then rock him for 30 minutes while he cries hysterically and I dream of downing shots of tequila... because I'm pretty sure my ulcer will thank me.
And I hope he composes pretend odes to me, before then writing poems about our old stinky dog, which I'm sure he will do.
Thanks again, Alice, for the laugh.
This reminds me of a Mother's Day project my first-born did in kindy. They drew a picture and then recited to the teacher what it was they loved about their mommy and then the teacher captioned it underneath the drawing.
Some of the kids said the sweetest things: I love my mommy because she gives the best hugs; I love my mommy because she smells like the rain...
My kid? A picture of me with a grocery cart and the caption: I love my mommy because she buys me sugary snacks.
Wanted. To. Die.
Soooo relieved that someone else has taken over as Best Parent. The pressure to hold onto that crown was just exhausting me more than Boomerang Lunches and Swim Badge Testing.
My 8 year old boy has not yet written a poem he lets me see. He tends to stick to epic sagas of Voltron and Ninjago.
"...that magical horrible way you do when you're talking and then you're yelling and you can't remember how your mouth went from making normal sounds to angry ones".
This made me nod my head and sigh. Oh mouth...why do you wander off like that?
Oh, sweet nine-year-old boys and their Lego minifigures and such. Mine composed this love poem for me last year. It's called "Cherry Bomb," but I swear it's not based on a true story:
I have a hunch
that after lunch
I certainly will die.
Because my mom
has placed a bomb
Inside my cherry pie.
I read a blog post the other day about a woman asking her daughter (who was flipping out) if she felt like she was in a glass case of emotion (you know like ron burgundy in anchor man) I plan on asking my daughter this the next time she flips out.
I love reading your blog! I am new to New Jersey and new to blogging, but came across your blog and LOVE IT!! I hope to be as successful as you are. Thanks for keeping' it real! I love honesty! Women need to know how real life is in homes that don't run perfectly! Thanks so much! Keep it comin'!!!
Thanks, Brianne!
Does it mean my five year old is very advanced if he flipped his wig over a Lego minifigure this morning? The argument that followed ultimately concluded with him stating, "You're not the bestest mom I've ever had." SIGH.
The weirdest thing I've ever said to my son when I was mad was, "Who do I look like, your Mother?" I was so mad. Then of course we laughed our asses off
Just wanted to tell you I kinda love you!
Alice wrote for me. My little guy won't write poetry, but his books are great. And then the slippery slope to a fight. And then neither of us is sure how to sorry. It hurts. And Legos are the bane of my existence. And dgm, Cherry Bomb sounds like it was HEAVILY influenced by Shel Silverstein. Your little person has talent.
It amazes me sometimes, the swiftness with which our conversations can change. This is pretty much only an issue (so far - knock ALL THE WOOD!) with my oldest who is 11. The dynamic can change in mere seconds and I'm left wondering weren't we just...how did we...the hell?
If Charlie's poem is nearly as sweet as the one about your clearly young, soft, good-smellingness, then that anthology should consider itself lucky.
It's great that he's starting to explore his "literary side". I'm sure that with your guidance, he will be able to develop this side and who knows, this is the path for him. Has he ever told you about the career he wants in the future?
Thanks, Brianne!