"ERICA AND HER SHOW N TELL"

"ERICA AND HER SHOW N TELL"
(author unknown)

I’ve been teaching for around fifteen years now. I have two kids of my own, but the best birth story I’ve ever heard actually happened in my own second-grade classroom a few years ago.

I’ve always loved show-and-tell, so I make sure to include it in my class. It helps the kids get over any shyness and gives them a chance to share something they’re excited about. Most of the time, it’s pretty standard stuff—pet turtles, model airplanes, a picture of a fish they caught. I never put any restrictions on what they bring in; as long as they can carry it and talk about it, they’re good to go.

One day, Erica, a bright, outgoing girl, took her turn. She waddled up to the front with a pillow stuffed under her sweater, holding a photo of a new born. “This is Luke, my baby brother,” she announced. “And I’m going to tell you all about his birthday.”

She began by explaining, “First, Mom and Dad made him as a symbol of their love. Then Dad put a seed in Mom’s tummy, and Luke grew in there. He ate through an umbrella cord for nine months.”

At this point, she was standing with her hands on her “belly,” and I was doing my best to keep a straight face. The other kids were completely captivated.

“Then, about two Saturdays ago,” she continued, “my Mom started going, ‘Oh, oh, oh, oh!’” She put her hand on her back, waddling back and forth, groaning. “She walked around the house like that for an hour, ‘Oh, oh, oh!’”

By now, Erica was doing a hilarious duck walk, and I wished I had my camcorder.

“My Dad called the middle wife,” she explained, “who delivers babies but doesn’t have a car sign like Domino’s.” She demonstrated how they got her mom into bed.

“Then, pop! Mom had a bag of water in there in case he got thirsty, and it just exploded all over!” She spread her legs and mimed water spraying everywhere, and I was trying not to lose it.

“The middle wife kept saying, ‘Push, push,’ and ‘Breathe, breathe,’” she went on. “They started counting, but they never got past ten. And then, out came my brother! He was covered in yucky stuff they said was from Mom’s play center. I guess there are a lot of toys in there! Then the middle wife spanked him for crawling up in there in the first place.”

With a big theatrical bow, Erica returned to her seat, and I’m sure I applauded the loudest. Since that day, whenever it’s show-and-tell time, I always bring my camcorder—just in case another “middle wife” story comes along.

So now, you have two choices…laugh and close this page or share it with someone else for a good laugh. I know what I did!

Live each day like it’s your last chance to make someone laugh.

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"BABY STEPS" by Becky Hemsley

"BABY STEPS"
by Becky Hemsley

We have to stop thinking that we’ve failed every time we fall.

When babies are learning to walk, we don’t assume they’ve failed every time they hit the ground. We realise that they are simply not done trying yet.

We praise them for getting up and going again.

Because we realise that it is much easier to fall down than it is to pull yourself back up to standing.

Babies don’t stop trying,

no matter how many times they fall.

They don’t give up. They get up.

And they continue to believe they can do it.

Sometimes it takes a long time. Sometimes they need to rest.

But they do get up.

They find their balance.

And eventually they walk.

Then they run. They skip, they gallop and they leap.

Sometimes we fall and sometimes we need to rest.

But we have not failed.

We are finding our balance.

And we are preparing to run.

Even if we need to take baby steps

at first.

******

Becky Hemsley 2023

Beautiful artwork by Anna Radis Art

'Baby Steps' is one of the first poems in 'Letters from Life' https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CHL9MZC1...

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"LISTEN" by Becky Hemsley

"LISTEN"
by Becky Hemsley

Listen when it’s raining

As the water hits the ground

And you’ll hear a million secrets

That are hidden in that sound

The pitter patter raindrops

Hold the whispered words inside

Of the people who have shared them

With the velvet midnight sky

The drops that pound the pavement

Spill out anger loud and harsh

They’re the words and thoughts of people

Who have cried beneath the stars

The rain that adds to oceans

And their vast capacious flow

Is the grief of people holding on

For fear of letting go

The waters flooding cities

Overwhelming homes and towns

Are the silent words of suffering

Entrusted to the clouds

And when the clouds are heavy

When our secrets fill the sky

When our thoughts are too oppressive

Then the Earth begins to cry

So listen when it’s raining

If you’re quiet then you’ll hear

All the secrets and emotions

That are muffled by Earth’s tears

******

Becky Hemsley 2020

Beautiful artwork by June Leeloo

'Listen' is from Talking to the Wild

https://a.co/d/gyBBmgR

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"HANDLE WITH CARE" by Becky Hemsley

"HANDLE WITH CARE"
by Becky Hemsley

Every woman I know has, at one point or another,

sobbed in the shower

cried in the car

swallowed down tears in the supermarket

and broken down in the bathroom.

And then she has dried her eyes, lifted her head, taken a deep breath and carried on.

She has walked into work

or in through the front door

or into the store or the coffee shop or the hair salon.

And she has smiled and chatted to people so that no one would know she’d been crying.

And I’m not reminding us of this to say

“look how strong we are to pull ourselves together when we are falling apart”.

Although that still stands.

I’m reminding us how easy it is to paint on a brave face so that other people are none the wiser.

So whilst it might not have been you sitting in the car park crying this morning, it might have been that woman who sits three desks down from you.

Whilst it might not have been you sobbing in the shower before getting the kids ready for school this morning, it might have been their teacher. Or another parent on the school run.

Whilst you might have gotten round the supermarket without being on the verge of tears today, it might not be the same for the person working the till. Or the person behind you in the queue.

Everyone wears their brave face in public.

And we’ll never really know just how many people around us have pulled themselves together with the thinnest of threads each morning. How many people are ready to fall apart again at any point.

But compassion strengthens those threads.

Compassion is powerful.

Because even when no one can see it,

even when no one can hear it…

They can feel it.

******

Becky Hemsley 2023

Beautiful artwork by Danielle Coursol

‘Handle with Care’ is from my fourth collection which can be found here:

https://a.co/d/97OIz9l

*I wrote this from experience which is why it says 'woman', but I'm sure it applies to many men too

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"CAPABLE CHILDREN" by Brooke Hampton

"CAPABLE CHILDREN"
by Brooke Hampton

I posted a photo of our 13-year-old doing her end of the month calculations. She handles our household grocery budget each month. I was shocked at how many messages I got telling me she was too young to have so much responsibility. They labelled me a lazy mom and I took it as a compliment (though I’m not sure that’s how it was meant lol).

I’m purposefully lazy and my kids are thriving because of it. I have more energy than most, I could easily handle everything for them but I don’t because I want them to learn to do it for themselves.

I love the harsh, judgmental looks and comments I get from other parents when they see my kids doing things deemed “too hard” for them. “What a lazy mom. Those poor kids,” they whisper. Yea, well they can judge me all they want but I’m preparing my kids to not need me. And I personally believe that’s the greatest gift I can give them.

I think we severely underestimate our children. They are far more capable and dependable than we will allow them to be. Most of us are over-scheduled control freaks and we don’t create the time we need to let our kids try and fail and then try again. We’re too busy to be lazy and it’s hurting our kids. Children that are treated like they are capable become capable.

And it starts small…it starts with the toddler who wants to help do the dishes and you end up with a tsunami in your dish room or the 4-year-old who wants to take the trash out when you’re on our way out the door- it takes 20 minutes instead of the 2 it would have taken you because the trash bag is the same size as them, it got a hole in it cause it was dragging the ground and you pretty much have to sanitize their whole body now cause they’ve somehow managed to touch every part of the trash bag. Now you’re late for your appointment but your kid is feeling empowered and damn it, that needs to be worth it.

It takes patience and determination to be a lazy parent. Because the way they do it won’t be perfect (at first), they’ll make ungodly messes, it will be crooked and mismatched, things will break, and it will likely take 4 times longer than if you just did it yourself. And it’s hard to watch them struggle, we love them and we want to make life easy for them. But life isn’t easy, it’s f**king hard and we are doing them a great disservice when we don’t let them struggle and prove to themselves that they are little bad asses.

I’ve noticed a lot of people wait because they are going to get hurt, they don’t have time or they like their house to stay looking magazine worthy and a 3-year-old learning to organize their own space or make their own breakfast has rough edges.

The struggle is real, but you simply need to get over it because raising capable adults doesn’t start at age 16 when they can’t do anything for themselves, it starts at age 3 when they need you to back off and let them make a tsunami in your dish room.

Do yourself and your kids a favour and be a lazy parent. Back off and let them try.

Brooke Hampton,

‘lazy mom of three wildly capable humans’

Credit: Barefoot Five

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"SHE WAS MADE BEAUTIFUL" by Suzanne Reynolds

"SHE WAS MADE BEAUTIFUL"
by Suzanne Reynolds

When she was a little girl

they told her she was beautiful

but it had no meaning

in her world of bicycles

and pigtails

and adventures in make-believe.

Later, she hoped she was beautiful

as boys started taking notice

of her friends

and phones rang for

Saturday night dates.

She felt beautiful on her wedding day,

hopeful with her

new life partner by her side

but, later,

when her children called

her beautiful,

she was often exhausted,

her hair messily tied back,

no make up,

wide in the waist

where it used to be narrow;

she just couldn't take it in.

Over the years, as she tried,

in fits and starts,

to look beautiful,

she found other things

to take priority,

like bills

and meals,

as she and her life partner

worked hard

to make a family,

to make ends meet,

to make children into adults,

to make a life.

Now,

she sat.

Alone.

Her children grown,

her partner flown,

and she couldn't remember

the last time

she was called beautiful.

But she was.

It was in every line on her face,

in the strength of her arthritic hands,

the ampleness that had

a million hugs imprinted

on its very skin,

and in the jiggly thighs and

thickened ankles

that had run her race for her.

She had lived her life with a loving

and generous heart,

had wrapped her arms

around so many to

to give them comfort and peace.

Her ears had

heard both terrible news

and lovely songs,

and her eyes

had brimmed with,

oh, so many tears,

they were now bright

even as they dimmed.

She had lived and she was.

And because she was,

she was made beautiful. ********

Suzanne Reynolds

Art: Webers Art

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