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My D2 has some taste. Today she told me that the Costco brand chocolate chips in the very good good cookies did not taste like her favorite kind of chocolate chips and that I should stop buying the cheap chocolate chips and go back to buying the ‘spencier kind. I told her about new car buying and how Santa ain’t cheap, not really, but in my head I did.

Mom poems always feel easy, and since it is way, way past bedtime and my Ds have called me upstairs about fifteen times, for various cushy and thirsty reasons, I’m going to take advantage of the fact that motherhood inspires me, and get this done quickly.

All Caught Up

She also told her mom today that she planned on snuggling me in the morning. Winning the Mom race, ever since yesterday when her imaginary house came crashing down with the attentive directives of Daughter the First.  Trying to smooth the rift Mom got caught, all caught up in the whirling belief of two of the little strange, all tangled up in the orbits of their own beautiful worlds, caring about galaxies, all worried about universes, tired from schedules and bad roads and the dark, her mind all held up by traffic and panic and listening to the songs and carseats confessions. Carseats and big girl beds make the best confessionals.

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Hp should be home soon. This is the season of intense driving. It’s just as stressful as hunting season. Happenstance freaks me out. Happy Thursday, poemfriends.

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