"Don't even THINK about it" (she warns)
Bare piggy toes once wiggled each time I tickled your foot,
hearty squeals once rippled as I raspberried your bellybutton,
butterfly kissed a cream-puff cheek.
Even now I long to cradle you in the crook of my arm,
rock and sway your body close to my heart,
hold your hand for protection,
but preteens rarely indulge such fantasies.
by Margaret Bednar, June 19, 2014
She is twelve years old - and very independent, and does not allow cuddling. I guess when you are one of the youngest of six, you tend to be a survivor and a bit "seasoned".
I've had a number of changes this past few weeks. Moved my oldest daughter into a college rental house, "celebrated" my 15 year old daughter's entry into high school, "grieved" as my fifth grader was "promoted" to middle school and my youngest finish Kindergarten! I just realized another daughter will soon be 17!!! (how can that be) and am already mourning my oldest son leaving as this upcoming year he will graduate college (which is 30 minutes away) and most likely head to New York…
Changes, changes. Thank goodness my youngest is a Momma's boy and soaks up hugs and kisses.
This poem is a "sevenling" which is a poem that follows a rule of three and I have linked it with "Imaginary Garden of Real Toads - Words Count with Mama Zen"- Rule of three - in 90 words or less.
18 comments:
what an adorable photo! a pre-teen perched on the edge of young adulthood. :)
you do have 'em growing up, don't you!?
Oh, Margaret! Baby Puppy turned 11 two days ago, and this got me right in the heart.
Oh wow, changes indeed :) changes galore. I am a firm believe that the only constant in life is change :)
This is an excellent sevenling, especially relevant to those of us who have been alng this road of parenthood. We keep count of everything, as they are ticking things off one by one.
Margaret, there are many days I wish I could go back and re-live those pre-teen and teenager days .. for even an hour! Wishing you a lovely summer.
Oh my goodness, you have every child in transition to The Next Step. Yoiks. Love your poem. My youngest was VERY independent too. My mom did a double-take once, passing her in the hall, age THREE, singing "Leave Me Alone This Is My Life". LOL. She is still like that at 38!!!!!!!
(Blogger ate my comment, then spat back two!)
Best of wishes with the growing brood, Margaret. They are spaced nicely for Mama to adapt to changes.
That twelve-year-old may cuddle a bit on a stormy night or when the two of you watch a scary movie on TV? Ours did, I can still remember the two of them, Karen and Mrs. Jim huddled up when I came home from teaching my night class.
Try it,
..
The transitions stretch us between sorrow and happiness, but happiness wins partly because of the poem and picture that hold that "Don't even think about it" moments and partly because the flowers are so magnificent.
thank God heart strings can stretch wherever they need to. Such a gorgeous poem and photo. Right there with you when it comes to change!
I love your poem and the photo to match your words~ I am feeling the stings of my finally child will be leaving the nest this autumn~ Wow, you must be extremely busy~ Enjoy-and remember we have our memories to cherish of holding them close!
Best wishes to you at this stage of the parenting game, lovely poem
Much love...
I suspect three hearts are at play here -- the one made with motherhood, the second broken with young adulthood, and the coming third completed to see such ripeness become great fullness. Nice.
I love your photo and words, Happy Birthday! :)
So many blessings wrapped in packages as children...so many separate lives with potential and dreams to fulfill...so many beautiful people in this world. Wonderful poem, Margaret!
nice...love the header shot as well margaret....i have one turning 12 here in a couple months...wildly independent as well...change is what it is all about, and us trying to keep up with it and navigate those changes with them....
always time for another child, right Margaret? :) ~
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