When my kids were growing up, there were so many magical times. Mostly what I loved, is that there was an air of acceptance for all of us. We were a blended family. By statistics, we probably shouldn’t have done as well as we had…but honestly, there was so much love in our home. Love got us through the sticky times.. By many standards, we weren’t perfect…but for each other, we were.
Enjoy my poem of our old childhood home…Three girls and neighbors who loved us.
Home of oozy goozy mud art
proudly displayed on each child’s belly
and perfect bouffant.
Home of last minute backyard campouts
of roasted hotdogs and marshmallows
because our neighbor Ray had made
an “emergency” run to the store.
Home of Friday night pizza
dance videos and mini fractured fairytale skits
for a dozen giggly girls.
Home of make-shift forts
of bunkbeds and sheets
And “when do you think you’ll be taking that down?
I need to water my lawn.”
Home of visqueen and duct tape slip and slides
and neighbors who helped realtors take the signs down
to ensure our stay.
Talks over fences
Neighbors mowing our lawns because we were crazy busy
Junior’s eyes dancing with delight as Sophie, our dog,
Accepted his table treasures.
Flooding waters making wading pools
Splashing and running carefree through them.
No kitchen table…but couch trampolines.
Home of 2 families weaving themselves
into one fabric
and clothing themselves
in their warmth and gaiety.
Where mommy is melted on the front porch.