Category Archives: Parenthood

The Procrastination Song

Procrastination Song

Procrastination Song

Oh how difficult it can be sometimes
to do what I have to do.
When the most important things that day
are behind a big hurdle,
and I just can’t seem to jump it.

I must do my taxes,
I must write another 1000 words.
But my brain won’t focus
and flutters like a flock of birds.

Suddenly my path is filled
with a million other little things.
The laundry awaits,
the windows need cleaning.
I haven’t dusted the picture frames in ages
and menial tasks keep intervening.

The garden has to be ready for Spring,
I have to order carpet swatches.
And I recorded a cool show last night
that really needs watching.

I must do my taxes,
I must write another 1000 words.
But my brain won’t focus
and flutters like a flock of birds.

I give myself an imaginary slap.
Focus, now, snap out of it!
It’s like high school’s lack of toil,
when the night before the exam
you were burning the midnight oil.

I must do my taxes,
I must write another 1000 words.
But my brain won’t focus
and flutters like a flock of birds.

You’re a grown-up now, I tell myself,
face up to reality and your responsibility!
You know what’ll happen if you don’t do it on time.
The authorities will just bury you in hostility,
and you’ll regret not taking the 60 minutes
to finish off that compulsory business.

I take a deep breath
and force my feet to my folders and files.
This is it, I’m going to clear that big hurdle,
but not before the towels are in a perfect pile.

© Maggie Elizabeth, 2013


What’s Your Mantra?

I never cease to be amazed by the emotional strength some people show in difficult situations. It’s all relative, of course. What may be a difficult situation for one, may be a walk in the park for someone else, but when someone tells me they are having a difficult time, I believe them. It’s a lot like pain – who am I to tell them it doesn’t hurt?

mantra

What’s your mantra?

I have been blessed to have encountered only a few difficult times in my life, but last week I did have to dig into my emotional reserves. Two out of our three children, and I, caught a nasty tummy bug, and my husband was away on a business trip. It’s bad enough having to run around after the little ones with old towels to try and prevent their stomach contents from going everywhere, but it’s even worse when you yourself have to run to the bathroom every two minutes as well.

After a couple of hours the tumult died down a little and there was a twenty-minute lull between gastric upsets. I found myself lying on our bed like a wet towel, in between two sick little kids, wondering how we were going to get through this.
Then a voice suddenly came up in my head. “This too shall pass,” it said. And when I listened to it carefully, I recognized the voice as my own. I kept repeating the phrase and I felt the confidence grow inside and comfort me.

Of course we got through the whole episode and looking back now I can laugh about it. I realize that I actually use “This too shall pass” a lot when things get tough and that it has, in fact, become my mantra. It feels good to have one – it’s like an emotional safety-net you know you can pull out in times of need.
And it has made me curious as well – what’s your mantra, and how did you come to have one?

A Flawless Joke

I open the glossy magazine
and see the face of perfection.
No wrinkles, spots or blotches,
just a glowing, flawless complexion.

The ad says the patents are pending,
and the self-tests are conclusive.
This cream really is the bee’s knees,
very soon my creases shall be elusive.

I go to the store and fork out fifty bucks
for the promise of eternal youth in a tube.
It’s a bargain when you think about it,
and this time, I’m sure, I won’t get duped.

They are not making false claims,
or messing with my mind.
Oh no, beauty is within my reach,
and it’s exactly what I’ll find.

The traces of age and the motherhood marks
will be all at once erased.
Gone are the signs of broken nights,
the bags, the spots, the waste.

I drive home in excitement
and start lathering with glee.
The cream indulges my skin and whispers,
“You’ll soon look like you’re twenty-three…”

Four weeks later I look in the mirror
and it’s the same old face I see.
I stick out my tongue and realize
the joke is once again on me.

© Maggie Elizabeth, 2013

Sunday Mornings 2.0

Sunday Mornings 2.0

Puzzles for breakfast by Maggie Elizabeth.

Sunday mornings with the paper
are now spent reading Dr. Seuss.
Slow coffees with a side of Bircher
replaced by cleaning up spilled juice.

Sleeping in til noon or later
a very distant memory.
The clock usually says six
and seven’s utter luxury.

The puzzle’s still a feature,
but no longer the crossword kind.
Boxes scattered on the table,
colored pieces on our minds.

Slow has become fast
and quiet really loud.
Peace lasts about ten seconds
followed by a playful shout.

My worries may have tripled,
no longer a carefree girl.
But my little hoompanchoonks,
I wouldn’t trade them for the world.

© Maggie Elizabeth, 2013

Nail The Day

Snowdrop signalling spring

Snowdrop
Image credit: tsekhmister / 123RF Stock Photo

I’m gonna nail the day,
I’m gonna seize this mofo.
Damn you, dark of winter,
I’m gonna surf this golden glow.

I’m gonna skip the Prozac,
leave Oprah in the lurch.
I’m gonna open up my mind,
give my soul time to search.

And while I am at it
may as well do some more.
I’m gonna dust off the trinkets,
mop the kitchen floor.

I’m gonna strip the beds
and wash the sheets.
I’m gonna clean the loo
and sweep the streets.

I’m gonna shop for groceries
and bake an apple pie.
I’m gonna plug my tire,
and learn to tie a tie.

I’m gonna wash the clothes
and scrub the dirty tub.
I’m gonna iron that pile,
and potty-train the bub.

I’m gonna set up a charity,
find a cure for disease.
I’m gonna stop every war,
and learn to make cheese.

I’m gonna do it all in one day
like a whirlwind on a mission.
I’m gonna tick that whole list
spurred by endless ambition.

I swing open the bedroom window
and greet Mother Nature fair.
I thank her for my spirited energy,
and for putting Spring in the air.

© Maggie Elizabeth, 2013

Musical Beds

The night begins quietly
we’re all snug in our beds
the house is in silence
peaceful dreams in our heads.

Then the music begins
with an ear ache, a fever
so I get up and soothe
my big little sleeper.

I sit by his side on the floor
and the music slowly fades
the house is quiet once more
and I pause my nocturnal crusade.

Not long before the tune returns
this time from our little man
a bad dream, a cuddle
and soon my side’s filled again.

Then thirst turns up the volume
our little girl needs a drink
and she sneaks under your covers
as quick as a blink.

I finally see my chance
as everyone’s peacefully snoring
I creep into the empty bed
and all’s quiet till morning.

Three out of five
in someone else’s bed
and no one is to blame
but I do look forward
to when you and I
lie together again.

© Maggie Elizabeth 2012