I’ve decided to share a story of how
I’m messing up this life I’m living,
And how I’m totally screwing up
The three children I’ve been given.
I’m hoping to inspire you and
To share a laugh with y’all.
And yes I know by “y’all” I mean
The three who routinely come to call.
Let’s start with a little about me.
I type for doctors, I photograph weddings
I drink slushes, love chocolate
And complain about how fat I’m getting.
Enough about me, let me introduce Leon.
He’s my hubby, I’m his wench.
He’s a schmuck, a goof, he likes to nag,
But he can’t help it. He’s French.
My eldest. My beauty. My Asia.
She’s 14. Need I say more?
I counting on her having one just like her
I figure that’ll even the score.
She goes up, she goes down,
And out of fear, we follow, we must.
She’s my challenge from God.
I’m sure I’ll survive it …. if only just.
She’s a cheerleader, a dancer.
She excels at all she does.
All except school work that is.
She’d rather pick belly button fuzz.
(yes, that’s me … grasping)
Cassie, my light, my usually happy daughter.
But oh, she’s a clumsy little bugger.
She’s knocked out teeth (3x), had stitches, and cries (lots)
But always cheers up when you hug her.
She’s our water skiing maniac.
Suddenly she’s up on one.
She crashes, splashes and tumbles
She goes till WE say she’s done.
She wakes in the morning with a smile,
but that can change oh so fast.
When small we banned her from public,
and swore she would be our last.
Then, along comes Livvy,
My sweet “late in life” child.
She’s got a cute little bum, chicken legs,
Bony knees, and she’s more than a wee bit wild.
It may not be right. It may not be fair.
But upon her our affection we shower.
She’s a little spoiled, but rightly so,
My funny little flower.
She’ll grab her crotch, drop to the floor.
She knows we’ll stop all we are doing,
Grab her up, rush to the bathroom,
And keep her company while she is pooing.
I often think of this with a smile.
She won’t be little much longer.
I know she’ll soon be a teenager,
And I will long to throttle her.
I feel it will never end.
I’ll never have a life of my own.
The laundry and clean up will continue to gather
Until my children are grown.
So that is my family, crazy as it is.
And my life, I should love it, I know it.
One day I’ll look back and wish I did differently.
One day I’ll wish I hadn’t blown it.