It’s the end of the year,
And once again time,
To reflect and goal set,
Why not in rhyme?
June is year’s end for teachers,
But I’ll take advantage of now, too,
Because there’s never a bad time,
To push toward a better you.
Someone who is calmer,
When Autumn spills her paints,
Someone less emotional,
When students’ parents make complaints.
Someone more confident, at ease,
Each and every day,
Who puts the phone down,
Every second that we play.
Someone who saves serious,
For when a situation calls,
Someone who is there,
To catch her when she falls.
Someone who counts her blessings,
Even when it’s tough,
Who doesn’t get bogged down,
In trivial little stuff.
Someone who takes it in,
When life is in a hurry,
Who finds the focus lens,
When everything seems blurry.
Someone who posts weekly essays,
And edits them really well,
Penning stories of high interest,
Good enough to sell.
Someone who does yoga,
Virtually twice a week,
Who listens much better,
And hesitates to speak.
Someone who knows each day,
Can be better than the last,
Who doesn’t waste much time,
Dwelling in the past.
Someone who makes plans,
But is open to them breaking,
Since some things offer just one chance
There for the taking.
Someone suspending judgment,
On others and herself,
Who replaces things with pictures,
To display upon her shelf.
Someone giving love and hugs,
Every time we say good-bye,
Not taking time for granted,
(At least continuing to try).
Someone who’s easier on students,
And finds it in her heart,
To be softer with herself,
Never too late to start.
Someone who doesn’t care when others,
See her dancing wild,
Who proudly shows off when she
Nurtures her inner child.
And who dotes on
The actual child of the house,
Who remembers her work is that
Of both herself and a spouse.
Who knows it isn’t easy,
And that it’s okay to be tired,
That no matter what she does,
She will never ever be fired.
That the exhausting days will pass,
Whether she makes them good or bad,
So to try hard to enjoy them,
And when they’re gone to not be sad.
This year will be another one,
With a lot of change,
I admit to feeling fear,
Yes, it will be rather strange.
This will be the year,
That Autumn will turn four,
And her beloved Nana Paci,
Will go right out the door.
I love her and I hate her,
That giraffe dangling from her lips,
Such a huge part of her life ‘til now,
But in the long run little blips.
It makes it more official,
That her babyhood is done,
It seems just yesterday,
That she was turning one.
The other day she said,
“Mommy, sit right over there,”
She pointed across the room,
It was all too much to bear.
The toddler who once clung,
Was glued into my arms,
Taught herself to fly,
Brightens places with her charms.
They notice her walking,
Red slippers and yellow dress,
The smiles are wide,
She never ceases to impress.
I’ve always worked too hard,
Achieved too much for my own good,
Having a child this independent,
I never thought I would.
I wanted her to be better,
Than her mother ever was,
The way I clung too much to home
And parents just because.
I wanted it to be,
That she wouldn’t suffer just like me,
A better balance she would strike,
Between friends and family.
And now that she has done it,
I am surely over the moon,
I just did not expect it,
To happen oh so soon.
But life is funny that way,
Things come when you don’t know they will,
And so I vie to take them in stride,
And hold out hope even still.
For a cleaner planet,
And a kinder, peaceful Earth,
For slates to be wiped clear,
To experience re-birth.
To perhaps have a date,
And not the kind you eat,
But I didn’t just say that,
(Please do not repeat!).
So here’s to the past,
May we remember it well,
And look bright-eyed toward the future,
As we ring the New Year bell.
Mommy On.
