Poem: Mom’s Pasta Spoon

She stood at the steaming stove
with the pasta spoon in her hand,
ready to sink its black teeth into the
spaghetti.

We were starving for her
to lift those cooked threads with the sleek tool
and serve us the supper we waited all day for:
The spaghetti, the sauce, the hunger –
gone.


=========
Poem for Mother's Day
and for
Thursday Poets Rally

About My Mom

This Mother's Day feels a little different than the previous 6 for me because for the first time, I'm officially a stay-at-home mom. That mean's that my full-time job is taking care of the rug rats and the home they seem bent on destroying. But it has also reminded me about my Mom.

Recently we all went to a Swap Meet at the local county fairgrounds. I thought it would be fun to see what people are trying to sell. It turned out to be a mult-family garage sale with lots of goats, chickens, turkeys, rabbits, some puppies, and the occasional iguana. There was a lot of old junk they were trying to get rid of. Some people had "antiques" that were interesting to look at but were not worth much. One item grabbed my attention--an old metal lunchbox. When I picked it up by the handle, I was immediatly reminded of the one my father used for several years. The handle, when you let go, made a sound I hadn't heard in years.

My mother stayed at home until I was old enough to be a latch-key kid. I remember her making my father lunch just about every day and putting it in that old metal lunchbox. She made my lunch, too, but the lunchbox would change along with my interests. (My first lunchbox was a Peanuts, my second was a Bionic Woman.) She also made my Father and I eggs and bacon, as well as coffee. Yep, I started drinking coffee at the age of 3 when my grandparents gave me coffee with lots of sugar and milk. So every morning, I'd have my coffee in a Mickey Mouse cup.

I didn't really appreciate the work that she did until recently--when I started to do the same thing. So, thanks Mom, for making my coffee in the morning. And for showing me how to be a good stay-at-home Mom--a gift that will serve me and my family well.

. . . Another Door Opens

"I lost my job." Such a funny phrase. Where did it go? Where was it the last time you worked? Joking aside, I was terminated from my "dream" job about a week ago. I can't say I didn't see it coming. For some reason, the boss had it in for me and was looking for any reason to fire me. And when you look for something, you usually can find it.

Now I'm the latest and greatest Stay-At-Home-Mom. Probably the most difficult job ever. But there is plenty to do in Creekistan, especially this time of year. My two-year-old loves the fact that I don't drop her off at daycare every day, and my 6-year-old loves having his mother in the afternoon after school. My husband loves the fact that I make breakfast in the morning and may even pack his lunch.

So far, so good. Any tips, suggestions for activities, and adult interaction would be greatly appreciated.

At least I can blog more.