A note from your teacher…
To the playground biter……
(By judy dooley)
You took a bite of Toms arm
A chomp on Suzies ear
A tiny nibble on Sallys toe
And you’ve got the kids running off in fear
Yesterday you bit Jims face
His back and bottom too
And now its Caras little hand
What more are we to do!?
Mommy says you an angel
And dad says the kids provoke
I’m not so sure they entirely right
As you quite a feisty little bloke.
Strange how its always your naughty bum
Sitting on the time out chair
As we look at your cheeky eyes
And want to pull out all our hair
Just one day I think mom and dad
Should teach your preschool clan
And maybe then they’ll see
How hard we do what we can
To get their bright and bubbly boy
To tone down and sit
Please try real hard to hear our rules
We need to stop the kids being bit.
Your Exaspirated Teacher
I remember waking up a year ago to about 9 kids in my lounge.
There I was skimpy nighty going downstairs, sleepy eyed and needing caffeine…
This was the result 😲😉 ….
I tip toe down the stairs
In hopes to find
My youngest children
Asleep, safe and sound
But to my dismay
No sleeping i see
But several new faces
Staring up at me
Blondes and brunettes
Skinny and tall
The fat one , the pretty one
Come one , come all
So many teens
Admiring my pjs
Morning mom, meet our friends
Its 7am, we hope its ok?
Steam erupts from each of my ears
I’m not so pretty with sleep in my eyes
My pjs are crawling,my hairs in a mess
I haven’t had coffee yet, you guys.
Mess in the lounge , tv blaring
Bodies scattered from stairway to kitchen
They look quite settled, with no plans to move
Not before coffee, so mom starts abitchin
Out came the lectures
on rules and respect
each teen marched out
The orders were direct
Go wake your own parents
With an army of friends
And see just how fast
My teen chucking method trends
Now , I love kids, don’t get me wrong
But if your manners are lacking
and your respect is gone
Ill be the one to send you a packing! R
Many years ago in the midst of messy divorce, unemployment and the struggle to get onto my feet we found ourselves with a Christmas of nothing.
So, we ( Kiki, Monkey, Sbear and I) decided to make each other gifts.
Monkey made me a blue cross necklace to wear to church. Something in his love and dedication tugged so deep at me.
This is his story …
The blue cross
His tiny fingers lingered on the shattered shards of glass.
Beaded hues throwing rainbows across the cold concrete floor.
A gift of love -destroyed by the idleness of frayed string.
Deliberately , his little hands , carefully sifted through the remains , choosing each glass bead .
Only the perfect , the best , the brightest remained in his childish palm.
Slowly, he strung each bead in perfect sequence,
Delicately designing a master piece of love.
Clasps tied securely to a new string .
Hours later, he presented his gift ,
To she who holds his heart -his mother.
A masterpiece of love
This poem was written for very special little boy who won my heart the moment I met him.
We shared a few brief moments together.
Such huge wonders
For one so small
Follow dreamlands way
A soothing sound
Looking for dad
Where love is found .