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#1 |
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Registered Users
Formerly: justanauntie |
meaningful mothering or first-time mother poem
I need a poem or short story to read at a baby shower for a first-time mom. any suggestions or favorites?
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Kalli: Lover of Jesus, Wife of Mike, Mother of Catherine Grace
(4/09) and John Gabriel (arriving VBAC waterbirth 9/11) Attached-parenting, Extended Breastfeeding, Cloth Diapering, Dread-wearing, Practicing Homeschooling is what I do! |
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#2 |
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Registered Users
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Re: meaningful mothering or first-time mother poem
This one is my favourite...
Song for a Fifth Child by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth, Empty the dustpan, poison the moth, Hang out the washing and butter the bread, Sew on a button and make up a bed. Where is the mother whose house is so shocking? She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking. Oh, I’ve grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue (Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo). Dishes are waiting and bills are past due (Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo). The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo. Look! Aren’t her eyes the most wonderful hue? (Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo). The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow, For children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow. So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep. I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep....
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erin, wife to pete, mom to simon (5.5y) abby and elly (3y) ![]() Screwing up my kids in my own unique way since 2007 |
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#3 |
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Registered Users
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Re: meaningful mothering or first-time mother poem
Sylvia Plath - Morning Song
Love set you going like a fat gold watch. The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry Took its place among the elements. Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival. New statue. In a drafty museum, your nakedness Shadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls. I'm no more your mother Than the cloud that distills a mirror to reflect its own slow Effacement at the wind's hand. All night your moth-breath Flickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen: A far sea moves in my ear. One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and floral In my Victorian nightgown. Your mouth opens clean as a cat's. The window square Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try Your handful of notes; The clear vowels rise like balloons.
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Mama to my sweetheart, Jamila (5/2011); wife to my mensch, Josh. Eleanor to you
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(4/09)
(arriving VBAC waterbirth 9/11) 


(5.5y) abby and elly (3y)


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