Mothers Love

I remember back

like it was yesterday

when all my children

entered this precious world.

Two girls and two boys.

A lucky mother to get two of each.

Plaid pants, little overalls, trucks and dinosaurs.

Pink dresses, flowers, stripes, Hello Kitty and polka dots.

Crawling, rolling over, walking and talking.

Babbling, learning to say Mommy and Daddy.

Daddy was first.  Mommy next and then No.

Baby toys, teddy bears, bunnies and rattles.

Toys like Furby that talk to me in the middle of

the night. 

Furby was on our Christmas tree

instead of the angel one year.

MacDonald’s toys, barbies, Littlest Petshops and Webkinz.

Little girls at play and boys in the dirt.

Hours spent in the bathroom

getting rubber Polly Pocket dresses wet

in the sink.

Girls doing crafts and one year

there was glitter all over the table

and it travelled to the bathroom

and the sink overflowed.

My creative daughter

all covered from head to toe

with purplish pink paint.

A son covered with chocolate all

over his face

and another son with a

fruit loop stuck to

the cheek of his face.

Daughters suddenly asking me

when their boobs would

get big like mine

and I would say

“You might be a late bloomer like me.”

And when asked other

questions

I gave them the basics

as they are still nine and ten

and don’t need to know more.

And all they would say was “eew”.

Teenage boys suddenly

pulling my leg,

yet light years ago

he was the little boy

who got curious with his friends

and they were huddled

in the yard

with a magnifying glass

in their hand

and a pile of leaves underneath

and a sudden discovery

that fire and smoke can happen.

At first I was like wow, cool.

Until the day I discovered

they were across the street

with a nice little bonfire roaring.

Needless to say,

their days of smoke and fire

were put to a halt.

But now I sit at my neighbors tables

and we laugh about that day.

And everybody remembers when

my kids were little

sweet and young.

Yet they are still young to me.

They are my babies still.

Yet it seems like forever

since I held them in my arms.

And a mothers love will last forever

and my bounds have no limits

for my love for them.

They are mine forever

and nobody can take away

a mothers love.

Jennifer Jo Fay

Copyrighted January 21, 2012