New Christmas Song

(I am not in labor!  But I heard this song and I got to thinking about the snowstorm that might be coming this weekend, and how fast my labors are, and how far away the hospital is, and this is what happened in my head.  Now I'll have something to sing on the way to the hospital!  :) )

To the tune of Baby It's Cold Outside

(Baby's voice - Mommy's voice)

I want to be born - Baby it's cold outside
So get on the horn - Baby it's cold outside
Gestation has been - Been hoping that you'd drop in
So very nice - But please don't fall out on the ice!
My mother will start to worry - Beautiful, what's your hurry?
My father will be pacing the floor - Listen to the ambulance roar
So really I'd better scurry - Beautiful, please don't hurry
Well maybe just one hour more - Get the bags, let's get out the door!

The neighbors might think - Baby, it's bad out there
I'm blue or I'm pink - No cabs to be had out there
I wish I knew how - Please God, send the snowplow now!
To slow things more - A blizzard is no good time to be born!
I ought to say no, no, no, sir - Contractions are getting closer
At least I'm gonna say that I tried - Why is it such a long ****ing ride?
I really can't stay - Baby don't come out
Baby it's cold outside

I simply must go - Baby, it's cold outside
The answer is no - Ooh baby, it's cold outside
This welcome has been - Not lucky the weather's grim
So nice and warm - Look out the window at that storm
My sisters will be suspicious - Road birth is against my wishes
My midwife will be there at the door - Wait till we get to the 5th floor
I know that labor is vicious - This birth could be more auspicious
Well maybe just a half an hour more - Never such a blizzard before.

I've got to come out - Oh, baby, you'll freeze out here
So Mommy don't shout - It's up to my knees out here
You've really been grand - Stay in, my child, I command
But don't you see - How can you do this thing to me?
There's bound to be talk tomorrow - Making my life long sorrow
If you have me on the hospital ride - If you caught pneumonia and died *
I really can't stay - So baby don't come out
Baby it's cold outside

*That's in the original song - I'm not being morbid.  No one's going to die, even if there is a blizzard.

A Post-Holiday Poem

It's the day after New Years, and trapped in this house
I have spent enough time with my children and spouse.
The stockings are hung from the chimney askew
'Cause Claire tried to wear them instead of a shoe.

The meals have been eaten, and bloated I feel
Because ham made appearances at every meal.
The gifts are all opened, the boxes are trashed,
The post-Christmas prices have all become slashed.

We've spent time out shopping, at malls and at stores,
We've watched tons of movies on couches and floors.
We've visited parents and uncles and aunts,
We're no longer able to button our pants.

There's not been much learning, as school has been closed,
And my daughters' attitudes have decomposed.
So I bundle them up and shove them out the door,
"Mommy," I say, "Cannot take anymore!"

"Shovel the sidewalks," I shout, "After that,
"Shovel the neighbors'! And don't lose your hat!
"When I was your age," I exclaim to MG,
"My mom threw me out until quarter to three!"

I watch through the window as they stand there and sweat,
The cold hasn't gotten through their layers yet.
They're dazed and confused and they're starting to pout,
Because their dear mother has just put them out.

"It's that or I'll strangle them both," I explain,
"And it's all the school's fault! They are solely to blame!
"In our moment of need they've abandoned us all,
"This mommy," I cry, "Has just hit the wall."

"I can't take much more of this so-called vacation,
"It's far too much work, and too much frustration.
"I'm calling it off!" I declare in a huff
"Christmas is over, enough is enough!"

A Special Useless Gift

A friend of mine is in school to be a teacher, and she's working on a lesson with the "ch" sound and needed a poem. My sister suggested that she ask me for help. I thought I would share what I came up with, so that you, dear readers, can see just exactly how warped I am...

Here's the first one:

Chelsea and Charlie had planned a hot date
Chelsea just knew that she couldn't be late
So she tossed on a pair of her chunkiest shoes
And ran to a salon called Charlene Magoo's.

She chilled while she waited, for nearly an hour
Checking her temper took a great deal of power,
But finally Charlene Magoo said, "You there!"
And Chelsea jumped eagerly onto the chair.

"No time for a chop, I need to get on,
But could you create a classy chignon?"
Over and over Charlene chewed this request
"I know that they say the customer knows best..."

"But you see, Chelsea dear, I don't think I can
Make a chignon for your date with your man,
'Cause hon, it's the wrong style of 'do that you're pickin'
To go with your feathers. Girl, you are a chicken!"

My friend, Michelle, correctly thought that "chignon" was too hard a word for first graders, so she asked me (after much flattery) to try again, and I came up with this:

Chuck the Chubby Chimpanzee was yearning for a treat,
He dreamed of cheesy pizza, or a hunk of chewy meat.
A chocolate covered ice cream cone, a cheddar chicken stew,
His tummy started rumbling but his dreaming wasn't through.

He dreamed of cherry ice cream cones a dozen scoops or more
He ached for corny chowder or an artichoke or four.
He'd settle for some Cheerios or Frosted Lucky Charms,
For a pork chop and some applesauce our Chuck would take up arms.

If only he could be a bird, he'd fly across the seas,
To choose a moo goo gai pan from the wonderful Chinese.
If he could chug a milkshake or could chomp upon hot chili
This poem would be much shorter, and only half as silly.

But Chuck was a cheap chimpanzee, he had no food at home,
No money in his bank account, no charge cards of his own.
So Chuck cheated his pal Chelsea at a simple game of chance,
He took all of her money, bought imported chips from France.

Chelsea hollered, Chelsea cried, she beat upon his chest,
She choked and sputtered, "Sakes alive! I thought you were the best!"
Chelsea chided Chuck, he asked if he could make amends.
She said, "No Chuck, it isn't nice, to cheat your childhood friends!"

"Your heart is black as midnight, and your soul is in the lurch!
I think you'd better get yourself right down to First Chimp Church!"
Chuck chuckled, "I don't think I need to go to any chimpy chapel,
I'd rather stay here, eat these chips, and possibly an apple."

"I mean it, Chuck," cried Chelsea, "You can't just sit and chill,
When your soul is so in peril - you really make me ill!"
Chuck said, "Do you think I'm a chump? I beat you fair and square,
I won't choose to change just 'cause you make me go and say a prayer!"

So Chuck the Chubby Chimpanzee sat stoic in his chair
And refused to go to church with her so he could clear the air.
And Chelsea never gambled after that most fateful day,
And when Chuck came to talk to her, she told him "Go away!"

The moral of this story, I think is plain to see.
Never play for money against a crooked chimpanzee.

Everyone tells me I should write a book but seriously, seriously, who would read a book about chickens and chimps getting hairdos and playing cards?? If anyone knows of a publisher looking for seriously ridiculous poems (which heavily use the "ch" sound), please let me know.

Seuss already did it all. I probably picked it up from the thousands and thousands of times I made my mom read his books to me, actually.

I am most strange. You have been warned.

Old Friends, New Friends

We played as children,
Now we watch our children play,
They whisper their secrets,
As we did so long ago.

We sing the old songs
Of our youth, our parents' youth,
While our kids sing old songs
Made new by their sweet voices.

Watching them feels strange
And yet right, at the same time.
I feel old. I feel young.
Twenty years passed in a wink.

Our lives, intertwined,
Our children create a stitch,
A new knot of friendship
Again binds us together.

***

I don't know of any other blogging-poet-mommybloggers - I think I'm going to stick with it for a while, at least until I get bored. We spent Thursday in Grammaland at Emily's concert Thursday night. I've known Emily so long that I don't remember not knowing her. And Cate from Alaska. Jen. Sunny. Erin. Sunny's mom. Cate's mom. It was a reunion of the best kind. Erin and Sunny brought their boyfriends. Cate, Jen, and I brought our kids. It was so much fun, so beautiful to see how we've changed and how we, at the core, have stayed the same. The kids and I spent the night with Mimi and had pancakes with Gramma before we headed to Cate's mom's for lunch and playing and singing. It made me feel like me again.

Then after the kids (FINALLY) went to bed last night, my new friend Casey and I went out for a drink. Gosh, Casey and I have been friends for a year now! She still has that "new friend" smell, though! It was the fourth anniversary of the death of her 8-1/2 week old son Richard. I told her I wished I'd known her then, so I could've done more to support her than take her out for a drink long after the fact. Sitting there with Casey, it struck me that she would probably love my childhood friends. I can see so many similarities between my friends from middle school, high school, college, and adulthood. I guess I haven't changed as much as I think I have.

My friends are creative. They're strong. They're smart. They're opinionated. They laugh loudly and give good, hard hugs. They aren't afraid to be themselves, no matter what "everyone else" says. They are so interesting, and I'm so lucky.

Dedicated to Gramma Denna

It's just a bit early,
My sweet little chickadee,
To play so repeatedly
The Flight of the Bumblebee.

My ears almost bleeding
Yes, Mommy is pleading
The dog is agreeing
The sound isn't pleasing.

If you will just stop it
My dear little poppet
I'll try not to drop it
Right off of the roof!


(You all liked the poetry so much, I thought I'd do it again!)

The Littlest Princess

The littlest princess was all tuckered out
From a hard day of playing and running about.
She played at the park, where she bumped her wee nose,
She ransacked the toy room, dressed in all the fun clothes.
And when our dear princess had had quite enough
Of reading and running and playing with stuff,
She covered her sweet little face with her hair
And fell fast asleep, on the dining room chair.



Sleep well, Little Princess. Tomorrow we'll play.
Tomorrow we'll have one more just-as-fun day.

Tonight let your dreams take you, follow them, roam,
And you'll wake bright and early again in your home.