The thing I love most about motherhood is just watching my son grow and
develop each day and seeing what “new” thing he discovered.

Well, I have a two-finger sucker who’s 10.5 months old and he uses those fingers for comfort and security. When he’s sleepy, in go the fingers. When he’s not sure about something, there are those fingers again.
Hungry…sucks on the fingers. It’s really cute…but not something I
hope he’ll continue for much longer.

He also plays with his ear whenever those fingers are in the mouth, and I am afraid that he will grow with one ear bigger than the other due to the constant tugging.

There are many things I love about motherhood. It seems like the faster
my baby grows the more I struggle to slow down to notice the things that
I really enjoy.

I love baby noses. I love how soft they are. When he was a tiny baby I would always rub my finger up and down the bridge of his nose. He seemed to like it and it would often relax him. Now that he is older and more active, he won’t let me do it. Instead I find I cannot stop myself from giving him millions of Eskimo kisses. I just love the way his soft little nose feels against mine and I love to see his little eyes sparkle when we are that close to each other.

 
I also love baby feet. There is nothing cuter than little chubby baby feet. I love to kiss them and blow raspberries on the soles of my  baby’s feet. I love to see them kick with excitement and how they are attached to his smiles. He simply cannot smile without his feet
responding.

I love when he smiles at me. I love the way he touches  my face or
tummy when I’m breastfeeding him, and when he says “mum mum” to his dad.
He has not yet figured out that mum and dad are called by different names; or maybe he has, and just likes the sound of mum better because sometimes he does call his dad “baa baa”.

I love how he smells freshly bathed, how he snuggles into my arms and
does not want anyone else when he’s tired…

The look on his face when
his daddy comes home…The way he scrunches his face when he is trying
to wink, the way he loved whistling so much that he practiced so long
and so hard that he could whistle by 9.5 months old, something that many
adults still have not yet learnt.

But most of all, it warms my heart daily when I come home after a long
day at work, and his whole face lights up and he kicks and almost
squawks in joy when I pick him up.

© www.artblessings.co.za

Watching him soothe himself and sink into dream land is so sweet. I love
staring at him once he’s drifted. His long dark lashes, and full cheeks;
his little nose…all so precious and well placed. I think of how
blessed I am to have him, and how awesome it is that my husband and I
created this wonderful being.

There are so many things about motherhood that I love and cherish. I can’t get enough of it. Even when I think of all of the obstacles we’ve
overcome…the pregnancy, the labour and delivery, the physiotherapy, the sleep deprivation, the pain, the worry, the milestones he’s met and everything I have to look forward to as a mother, there still are
the amazing moments and simple things that make motherhood the greatest
gift, the most validating experience, and the most satisfying event of
life.

I thank God every day.

©i.dailymail.co.uk

I have sat here for two hours.

Two hours  since your phone rang, you got up and fled to the balcony.

I have sat and watched you, for two hours.

Watched you pace back and forth, back and forth across the slit in the window curtain;

For two hours I watched, failing to understand, failing to recognise the truth staring me in the face..

Failing to understand the meaning of your hushed tone, your childlike giggles;

softly whispered ” …me too” sentence endings…

Softly whispered sentence  endings usually reserved for me…

Responses to declarations, promises, vows….

Back and forth, Back and forth…

Steadily like a pendulum you continued to pace.

and with each stride came understanding.

and when you pushed through the door, and looked up from your phone directly at me…

my heart broke, my world shifted on its axis…

The truth was there in the sparkle in your eye,

the blush in your cheek, the soft swell  of your lower lip…

your love belonged to another..

I want to buy you clothes, and when I see you wearing dirty clothes I want to wash them for you

www.amazonaws.com

I panic whenever you say that you’re hungry, because then your heart must not be still, and I am happy when your satisfied.

and every minute that goes by when I don’t hear from you, not even a Tweet, is  pure agony;

Because, sometimes…

I want to call you and tell you of every happy breakthrough that happens in my life; and I am filled with joy when you share yours with me.

Your sorrow or disappointment moves me to a seething rage against anyone who would slight you, regardless of whether or not it was your fault.

Is it really?

because, sometimes…

when you lay your love on me,epic  shudders run through me continuously,

like the  tremors on the rails of an oncoming train…the resonance, never quite gone..until the train runs over them again ….

and yet I know that it is not a singular occurrence

that you love me like you love three others…

(work in progress)

© ICJ - www.ijcentral.org

black skin glistening like a black pearl
eyes milky white, staring(at him) in anticipation
lips slightly parted as if in mid- moan
pulse thundering in his slender throat like a trapped bird
Adams apple bobs up and down, up and down..
swallowing the fast accumulating spit of anticipation..
his fingertips trace the the soft grooves on the rock.
each edge razor like in definition, sharp against his skin;
its weight like the lead of death inside his heart..

eyes wide open, rolling like a cage trapped animal,
he lifts his hand, taking aim; biceps flexing, triceps relaxing..
fuelled by anger frustration despair
desperation; they coalesce like a dense fog; the hate solidifies; in his mind’s eye
he focuses on the faraway helmet….

borrowed from www.stratfor.com

He lets go,
the rock-missile cuts through air thick with tear-gas fog, dense with siren wails
as if directed by the hands of fate..
right through the gap in the riot policeman’s visor…
distantly, they shout, the sirens blare,a gunshot rings out.
Anger thus vented. An eye for an eye.
we stare at their brokenness.
They are dead.
Time flows by and does not touch us…

my ears would be scalding hot;

like chillies put into the eye by a forgetful finger…

heart  heavier than a mud stuck hippo

head hung in shame and regret

cringing each time she trills,

‘I told you so! Didnt I! Didnt I!’

I had everything…at least..I thought I did..

a fabulous job, a fabulous apartment, a fabulous car,

more money in the bank than I knew to do with

and the best part was, little miss independent had finally found love…

In his presence, multiple zeroes and ones coalesced into the centre matrix of love

cataclysmic ecstasy, no room for reasoning;

be careful, she warned, looking at my blue-black eyes in well laid mascara foundation in scorn…

Despairing inside at a daughter inextricably lovelorn..

lost in sweet words and meaty fists…

when will it end?

William Ernest Henley (1849 - 1903) ©famouspoetsandpoems.com

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance;

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Fiends, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll.

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley (1849 – 1903)

I approach this place of us with caution today,
Unrestraint tomorrow,
Maybe regret the day after.

I cannot yet explain the depth of my emotions…
I cannot describe the heights of my flights of fancy…
I cease to be a rational being when I’m in his reach.
Intoxicated by sea salt scents, whiskey breath and the basic animal musk of man…
I am changeable and yet calm,
Soft, pliant and willing.
He unlocks my desire with a mastery akin to a locksmith and a locking mechanism.

I am built up and broken down in alternate turns…

Hopeful today, despairing tomorrow.

I have said 10,000 goodbyes. To myself. To him. To us. To the world.

‘Us’ will not leave me be.
The world will not let my mind rest. It plagues me with information…opportunities that I so deserve to exploit but are denied me by the folly of my ways;
It constantly reminds me of my place in his life.
Relentlessly the world reminds me of the brutal reality of the choices I have made.
He will not let me be. He is my lure.
Like a foolish fish shooting at a stinging bee
I cast to the future and wish for that which he will not give.
Again, I despair.
They say that love is decision.
I was not present at the making of this one.

My soul tires of abuse and neglect.
In an endless diatribe of hope and possibility;
My heart tells my soul and my mind that he is all that we need to get by.
My mind laughs in derision, trapped behind a prison of irrationality, patrolled by fear and derision, minions drafted by my deluded heart.

I look to my future and I see a vision of happiness
He is not in it.
My soul and mind soldier on in faith of release.
There is hope.