Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Pomp and Parenthood

Today's napowrimo prompt at readwritepoem asked us to write about the idea of a milestone.
It’s not like feeling your first kick
inside me
It’s not like pacifying you
through your first tooth
It’s not like watching you take
your first steps
It’s not like marking each growth spurt
on the wall
or taking your picture
on the first day of school
It’s not even like giving your name
to the car insurance agent
and watching you
take that first drive

No such firsts compare

When you kicked
only I could feel you
When you teethed
only I could soothe you
When you walked
you came right back
And we marked your growth
on a wall
in a home
that was mine
Your first day of school picture
was mine to take
and share
and brag with
And when you drove away
you took the same way home

But I can feel this milestone
stick in my throat

You were my first
so your firsts have been mine
But today is the beginning
of the ending
of that time


  1. This strikes a chord with me too. I love how you paint the picture of what a mother and child share and build up to the emotional ending. I reflected on a similar milestone with a haiku.

  2. It seems everything is only for a season, I wish my boy would grow up quicker though (only joking).

    Nicely recorded thoughts - the first day of the rest of your life, perhaps!

  3. wonderful, you captured beautifully the separation sadness while hinting at the deeper closeness still to come.

  4. oh, my I know exactly what you mean.

    This is a rite of passage for us?? or for them??

    Nice write.

  5. So, so true. And the kick now is from the outside in...

  6. Liz-I'm going to go check out hyour haiku.
    Sweet Talking Guy--I've often wished my kids would grow up, and now I wonder why it happened so fast!
    Angie-I guess it is a rite of passage for us, but what are we passing into? Hmmm...

  7. very nice....growing up...my girls have done just fine...my grandchildren sem fine to....but..."grandpa when are you going to grow up"? wellllllllllllllll girls..I aint old or mature enough just yet...be patient

  8. So tender, so true. And the more we let go, the sweeter the return. You've captured this milestone so beautifully, Erin, it made me cry. I predict you'll be a poet laureate some day.

  9. Say it isn't so!

    I love how you say "your firsts have been mine" - I'd never thought about it that way . . .