I remember when I could read an entire
chapter, some days even an entire book
at one sitting without interruptions.
I remember when I could work for hours
at a time in my study;
the hours were dependent on me
not on nap.
I remember when I knew no one with children
and had no idea what 2T meant.
And I remember when no one called me mommy
and when no little arms wrapped themselves
around my neck, no little kisses or hugs were mine.
And I prefer today.
Handwriting on the Wall.
A weary mother returned from the store,
Lugging groceries through the kitchen door.
Awaiting her arrival was her 9 year old daughter,
Anxious to relate what his younger brother had done.
"While I was out playing and Trent was on a call,
J.J. took his crayons and wrote on the wall!
It's on the new paper you just hung in the den.
Mommy
That's My Mommy
Wall Mile 2I told him you'd be mad at having to do it again."
She let out a moan and furrowed her brow,
"Where is your little brother right now?"
She emptied her arms and with a purposeful stride,
She marched to his closet where he had gone to hide.
She called his full name as she entered his room.
He trembled with fear--he knew that meant doom!
For the next ten minutes, she ranted and raved
About the expensive wallpaper and how she had saved.
Lamenting all the work it would take to repair,
She condemned his actions and total lack of care.
The more she scolded, the madder she got,
Then stomped from his room, totally distraught!
She headed for the den to confirm her fears.
When she saw the wall, her eyes flooded with tears.
The message she read pierced her soul with a...