I’m finding more and more that not only am I a “night person” I am also a “night parent.”
It’s hard to explain so I wrote it as a poem. (what a shock, right?)
Not my usual bag for poetry, this subject, but I’m branching out…
Late Night Parent
it is here
in these small hours
cicadas provide the soundtrack
the breeze
cool now
untouched by the sun
it is here
in this moment
of waking
with the cry
of the bad dream
or leg cramping
or croup coughing
it is here
the late night parent
finds her niche
calm and patient
the soothing voice
otherwise unavailable
during the day
over the din
it is here
that she is most at ease
engaged
and directed
and ready
to bring remedy
with no reservation
and it is here
that I,
while on night shift
thank God
with each forehead kiss
and each whispered assurance
that everything will be
alright
This is beautiful Mrs M. Blessings to you today. And thank you for this new perspective.
A very soothing poem, Mrs. M. I can’t really relate though. I normally get pissed when I have to be a night parent. I will try to keep this poem in mind and see if I can become better at that role.
Beautiful poem. I wish I could translate that patience to daytime parenting sometimes 😉