Today's poem is a direct result of my daughter and my nightly ritual.
One of my favorite parts of the day
is reading to you and snuggling with you
for a few minutes each night.
For me it is a peaceful way to end the day,
a time of closeness and closure,
a moment of grace and reassurance that
I am a good mother to you.
For you, I imagine this routine
serves a similar purpose: a peaceful
ending to a long day of schoolyard
politics and immense learning;
a time to snuggle close and be
my little girl again; the only
time in the day when you have
my undivided attention.
How sorry am I when I tell you
that it's time to go to sleep and
for me to leave the warmth
of our moments of connection and comfort.
Sorry because our nightly mother-daughter
moment turns into a nightly battle of wills.
You want me to stay, and I need to leave.
I want to snuggle with you and I often long
to just stay comfortably in your bed, but I
know that I can't. Once you're settled in bed,
I can take some time to rejuvenate and recenter.
I can read, write or craft. I need this time
to remind myself that I am worth nurturing
and spending the same kind of quality time on
as I do with you.
I know I can't explain my needs to your satisfaction.
I only hope that you remember
when you are a mother to take care of your self
as well as you take care of your child. If that is what happens,
I'll be assured that I am a good mother. Sleep peacefully
for tomorrow is another day, and tomorrow night a new
chapter to our story. I know you'll love the ending we created.
April 2, 2009
