Tuesday, November 08, 2005


When they just start crawling, when they’re putting everything in their mouths, when they become obsessed with the tangle behind the TV - it becomes continuous vigilance for mom (and dad). I remember being in a kind of zone, a kind of "physical meditation." Here is an old poem about when I was constantly following them around doing damage control - seems so long ago since they are now 3 and 6. Although, the youngest did recently decide to aerate the couch with scissors!

Daily Practice
J.B Rowell

repetition speaks the second time
with the first you wonder of it is all
fruitless and endless
righting the spill-proof cup over and over
pulling him away from the cords


when it wavers into a game
when you see eyes gleam
you put the cup away
startle with a last-ditch “no” and clap
as he reaches for the plug

again always again

now I know it’s going somewhere
that he will learn it someday
and the repetition will slip by
replaced by new daily practice
physical meditation

until then you wonder: Who is training whom?


Blogger reniebob said...

I remember those days..... don't miss 'em. :)

2:40 PM, November 08, 2005  

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