Family Plans: A Poem on Parenthood

I have four sons and twelve grandchildren, ages 18 months to 23 years. I remember all the fun of having babies, then grand babies. Going to the park and rescuing one of the toddlers from the top of the slide. I loved watching them discover new things as they grew, and going on outings and school plays and science fairs. That is not to say there were no struggles or heartbreaks along the way, that is life. But the whole journey has a goal, to raise the children God loaned you to be productive members of society, and to make their own way in the world - it's called independence.

I have many friends and acquaintances who have raised kids too. They enjoyed the years of watching them grow and mature, knowing every sacrifice and challenge was worth it all when they see their kids leave home to live adult lives. Some things never change...but then again, some things do.

There’s nothing sweeter

than a baby’s chubby knees,

and deep dimpled elbows

peeking through sleeves.

Pudgy little fingers

are busy with toys,

baptized in drool,

lacking grace and poise.

He squeals and shrieks,

at volumes explored,

cries of Ma ma or da, da,

and babbles galore.

Fingering Cheerios,

tossing the Tippy,

making a racket,

guiltless and giddy.

Exploring the cupboards,

banging pot and pan,

with kitchen utensils,

like a rock n roll band.

What’s more delightful

than the giggle of babes,

tickled at Fido’s

antics and games.

How sweet is his face,

when Daddy comes home,

reaching his arms

to the heart that he owns.

O the thrill that is felt

amusing the grands,

Nana and Papa

with no other plans

Then there’s the times

when temper’s do flare,

tantrums unfolding

with cranky despair.

That means it’s bedtime,

Mom lays him to sleep,

praying he’ll settle

without a making a peep.

Mom and dad snuggle

while the going is good,

until baby disturbs them

while they’re knocking on wood.

They run to the crib,

insert binky in mouth,

throw in a blankie

and change what’s down south.

And so they return

to overdue passion,

and nine months later

bear more fruit from their action.

Next thing you know,

after blinking an eye,

they leave home for college,

and Mom and Dad cry.

Two years down the road

they're back jobless and broke,

and all the folks' future plans

have gone up in smoke.