Here are some recent works by MomsWrite students:
Collage poem
Posted on March 22, 2007
By Robin Lentz
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Hissy Fit
Posted on Nov. 15, 2006
by Joanna Oltman Smith
How satisfying to have a hissy fit, just like my youngest son has been having for the past hour. The grumps are definitely contagious. I try to jolly him with crayons, puzzles, even an elaborate empty-the-pantry-set-up-a-store game. Nothing can calm the nap-deprived, milk-deprived beast. His nasal siren permeates every bit of my own carefully cooked dinner, ruined, as I wait for my missing spouse, late.
My relatively calm elder son gently notes, “Mom, I think he just needs a hug.” I relent and pick the little snot bomb off the dining room floor. His tirade has unleashed a torrent of mucus down the front of his Galactron Ruler of the Universe t-shirt. Being physically repelled by my own flesh and blood boy-o, as well as the emotional distance I feel from his abject suffering, are two rare, and therefore serious, indicators that my grip on smooth, cool mothering is not long for this world.
In consideration of the fragile, young psyches before me, I will myself to save my breakdown for my husband’s return. Upon his overdue entrance into the mayhem, I fail to give him the time of day. This is not a calculated punishment for his tardiness; I simply have nothing left to give. He responds to my neglect with a snide salvo, “So nice to see you too.”
Hearing the need in his voice, I make a quick calculation of just how oblivious he must be to the exhaustion sinking me after chasing two toddlers all afternoon, fighting over nap enforcement, fighting over toys, fighting over street dawdling, not to mention the school drop-off and pick-up sagas, the toddler art class, the playground session, the trip to the pediatric dentist, and the laundry, cooking, and cleaning tucked into the “free moments.” Oh, I forgot to touch on attending to multiple injuries, overseeing a precarious stoop sit, preparing numerous snacks, and scooping out the foul cat box. And have I mentioned my headache?
To have to field one more request for attention, well, that is the straw that causes the insulated Sponge Bob lunch box to disconnect from my hand, go hurtling through space, and land with tremendous force on the echoing tile surround of our kitchen fireplace. My son’s most cherished possession, symbol of his new independence away from home, falls forlornly into the ashes. It is the thud heard round the world. All fussing ceases. All eyes widen. All is still and calm. The clock on the mantle ticks. A drip in the sink splashes on the tower of unwashed dishes. Behold the power of a temper tantrum. I will have to regularly schedule one to remind everyone that Mommy isn’t perfect, not by a long shot.
Birth
Posted on Nov. 15, 2006
by Ona Gritz
Warm and water, gone.
Womanface, smell,
I know her, knew her.
Arms, I want
a circle.
Flail scares me.
Me, everywhere.
No walls.
Walls and pulse, gone.
Thrum, gone.
Voices without cotton.
Air without wet.
Womanface, smell,
I know her, knew her.
Arms, I want circle.
Flail scares me.
Thrum, gone.
Tight, gone.
Skin to skin,
milk spurt, sweet.
Pulse of take it in.
Warm,
wet walls filling.
Warm wet into me.
Take it in, swallow.
Womanface, smell,
I know her,
knew her.
Woman world,
circle arms. No flail.
Circle arms home.
Milk swallow warm, wet.
Womanface fade.
Dark again. Gulp.
Skin to skin.
Circle arms, warm.
Circle arms, mine.
We’re Going on a Career Hunt!
Posted on Nov. 15, 2006
(inspired by We’re Going on a Bear Hunt by Michael Rosen
and Helen Oxenbury)
by Joanna Oltman Smith
We’re going on a career hunt!
We’re going to find one that satisfies!
What a beautiful day!
We’re not scared!
Oh-oh! Rent!
Big, expensive rent.
We can’t ignore it.
We can’t lose our rood.
Oh no!
We’ve got to take a job that pays the bills!
Drudge, droop
Drudge, droop
Drudge, droop
We’re going on a career hunt!
We’re going to find one that satisfies!
What a beautiful day!
We’re not scared!
Oh-oh! Bosses!
Aggressive, unsupportive bosses.
We can’t tell them to go blow.
We can’t create a mentor from nothing.
Oh no!
We’ve got to do as we’re told.
Grind, limit
Grind, limit
Grind, limit
We’re going on a career hunt!
We’re going to find one that satisfies!
What a beautiful day!
We’re not scared!
Oh-oh! Ladder climbing co-workers!
Self-absorbed, non-cooperative co-workers.
We can’t finish the project without them.
We can’t report their dastardly deeds without fear of reprisal.
Oh no!
We’ve got to make nice in the conference room.
Concede, deflate
Concede, deflate
Concede, deflate
We’re going on a career hunt!
We’re going to find one that satisfies!
What a beautiful day!
We’re not scared!
Oh-oh! Florescent lights!
Mind-numbing, eye-crossing florescent lights.
We can’t see outside.
We can’t breathe fresh air!
Oh no!
We’ve got to reach five o’clock to burst out of the box.
Buzz, shuffle
Buzz, shuffle
Buzz, shuffle
What’s that?
One plastic desk chair.
Two telephones that ring simultaneously.
Three hours every night we have to work overtime.
It’s a career!
Quick!
Find a cheap sublet!
Tell off the stapler throwing boss!
Fulfill co-worker revenge fantasy!
Escape the cubicle!
Get out your front door.
Open the door.
Up the stairs.
Grab the spouse.
Into bed.
Under the covers.
Make babies!!!
We’re not going on a career hunt again!