April is a month set aside for poetry, and I stumbled again, on this clip of a mother who cares less about what others think of her – than I am capable of. I want to be this mother – sign me up for the tattoos, the sweater, the cropped haircut, even the skull and crossbones broach. If it means, that I can stop caring about what people think.
It’s just the way I mother-
will not look like the way you mother –
and sometimes – that shakes me up- and challenges my core.
I make choices that do not look like yours –
I am crunchier than you – or not crunchy enough –
I am less likely to do things that you do – or more.
I might be louder, quicker to anger, slower to react,
or more anxious –
I love my boys so much I feel like I might break into pieces with joy at any moment –
Your love might look just like that –
And- I’ve resolved;
that each of us – no matter what our parenting style,
or how we feed our baby – by breast or by bottle,
no matter how we school our children, or what books we read to them, or how much media we bring into their lives or not.
No matter which bed we lay our babies in, or how we carry them on our bodies—
I have resolved – that each mother – has the inherent capability
to ask questions when needed-
and to be allowed to do just do what they can.
That I will support without judgement,
I will listen without advice,
and I will sing the songs,
and write the poems about mamas –
who shiver with the joy of love for their children.