I spent all day feeding everyone
that I forgot to feed myself.
I spread jelly on toasted muffins,
savor the sweetness of each bite,
wish I'd made more than three.
Today, I rushed onto the bus:
After a barely fruitful audiology test,
full of Equis' cries of restlessness,
that didn't confirm or deny pathology,
I sighed heavily, knowing we'd return
for a second follow-up appointment.
to show my curly-haired toddler
I love him and always will.
"Forget high range sounds," I thought,
"Let's focus on slides, on swings,
on ball-playing in the park."
Then, with rumbling bellies, we walked
to IHOP, where Equis threw crayons
and, with his birthday coupon, ate
a free Rooty Tooty Junior meal.
I didn't know chocolate chip pancakes
would be my only meal today.
Equis and his stepbrother are asleep,
their smiles and energetic fights quelled
by the quiet call of dreams,
their small limbs splayed upon mattresses
topped with stuffed animals and toys.
I should sleep while they do,
but I'm waiting for each boy
to angrily awake with tingling arms--
oh, wait, and one just did,
complaining, "Sumada, my hand is scratchy!"
Next up? Probably dreaming of food.