Inaugural Post

Thank you so much for visiting my brand-new blog, and welcome!

I've been writing silly little poems since my childhood--usually, personalized ones to commemorate loved ones' milestones. Growing up in the '70s and '80s, my literary idols were Maurice Sendak, Shel Silverstein and Judith Viorst. In high school, I wrote and illustrated a book of poetry for my AP Studio Art class. That book is still sitting on my bookshelf, and if I ever figure out how to use the scanner, I will someday post it here, in its entirety.

I will be posting my observations, in the form of verse, on topics that are dear to my heart, most likely including (but not limited to): parenthood, traffic, current events, food, modern manners, living in Hollywood, and cats.

Here is my very first poem for you:

Parenthood: Notes On Advancing To The Intermediate Level

Oh, ye trapped in the throes of potty- or sleep-training

While it’s perfectly understandable that you find these tasks draining

You have no inkling what, in a decade, awaits you:

A sullen headphone-wearer who, when he speaks, says he hates you

So if you confide that your toddler has a problem with sharing

Forgive me if it doesn’t seem like I’m adequately caring

You may not elicit much sympathy complaining about the ‘terrible twos’

Or decrying Velcro’s role in the decline of kids who can tie their shoes

It’s not that I’ve forgotten what it was like

To worry whether the training wheels were prematurely removed from the bike

Yes, I’m fully aware stroller prices have gone through the roof

Along with the market rate fairies pay now for that first lost tooth

But understand that I live in a world not yet on your map

A place where it’s no longer my concern that little Reese refuses to nap

In my universe, I can’t dwell on whether Clara eats all of her peas

Or analyze the speed with which Hunter learns his ABCs

On Planet Teenager, you toddler parents are in for many a fright

To start, you’re demoted from superhero to someone who is never, ever right

No matter how many childrearing books and experts you’re consulting

One day, guaranteed, your teen will find you revolting

They connect not to humans, but to devices powered by electric sockets

You’ll get eye contact from them, but only right before they empty your pockets

They’ll say you can’t possibly understand their woes

And what do teen children demand, might you suppose?

Well, to start, my son wants me to know he’d feel a lot less alone

If he weren’t the only 7^th grader without an iPhone

And wouldn’t it be awesome if I’d let him go see the latest rated “R” movie

So he could discuss it with the cool crowd that’s all headed for juvie?

Why must I set such strict limits on time spent in front of a screen

He’d like me to know there are no other parents who are quite so mean

And while we’re on that subject, why do I bust his chops

By denying him first-person shooter games like “Call Of Duty: Black Ops”?

In a few short years, your current problems will seem quite quaint

When compared to an average teen’s daily complaints

I’ll let you in on the true test of parental persistence:

It is the ability to still madly love a kid who faults you for your mere existence