91.

With holidays near over

it's resolution time.

So bye, Procrastination.

I must sit right down to rhyme.

90.

The yummy Christmas candy

staked its claim upon my rump.

It was oh-so-very yummy,

but now I am quite plump.

The cookies were quite tasty;

the party was a hit.

But now I fear when I squat down

my pants are gonna split.

My Mama's appetizers,

she made them just for me.

I ate them all in just two days

and shocked my family.

I'm so relieved the food is gone;

the holidays, they're done.

If one more piece of fudge went down,

I'd have weighed a ton!

89.

There once was a gal named Sissy,
who was anything but real prissy.
The books she would read
should be censored, indeed!
Take 'em away and she'd have a hissy!

88.

One's asleep up on the bed

and one is in my lap.

The third is helping Mommy,

a few presents left to wrap.

It's cozy here with just us five,

our little family.

The presents hidden out of sight,

await our Christmas tree.

A tiny blizzard hit our home

and snowed us promptly in.

But we don't need to venture out;

our warmth comes from within.

Whatever this new year may bring,

we face unknowns to come,

and hold on tight to our dear girls

in this, our happy home.

87.

"My favorite thing is nerdles
for dinner and for lunch.
Can't you make them cheesy?
I like that a whole bunch.

"I love the babies' 'otion.
It makes their skin so soft.
I covered up my mouth just now
'cause I achooed and coughed.

"See those dogamations?
Their furb is black and white.
You have to pet them gently.
Their sharker teeth might bite.

"My teeth are clean and pretty.
Yuck, my floorhead rinse tastes bad.
But if I never use it,
my Mama will be mad."

That little girl is clever
and thinks up on her own
all these little phrases
I will share when she is grown.

86.

I have been writing poems.

They're all just in my head.

With holidays and birthdays

I've been jotting them instead

of writing them and posting

but here's one before bed.

85.

I'm oh so sad and lonely
when they're traveling 'cross the state.
This big ol' house is empty
and I'm pacing while I wait.

The little sounds are defeaning
to Mama's lonely ears.
I'm wand'ring 'round the household
fighting back the tears.

I don't know how much longer now
that they'll be gone away.
My moping isn't helping and
I should enjoy the day.

But when my lap is empty
and the children's laughter gone,
I'm tragic and dramatic
and the day just lingers on.

84.

A poem a day
keeps inertia at bay.

83.

I need to write poems.
I'm several behind.
I'm out of ideas,
but some I must find.

Should I write about work,
or Susan, or Paige
and how she's the best dancer
up on the stage?

Oh, wait, here comes another one
out from the mist.
I hope it turns out to
be Top-of-the-List.

82.

The girls are waving bye-bye

with fingers facing in.

They babble when they do so

and then look at us and grin.

It almost sounds like bye-bye

with that babbling that they do.

I'm sure it's wishful thinking

by Mama, Mommy too.

But then they grin and fingers wave,

and glowing little eyes

look up at us and prove us right:

they're certainly that wise!

81.

Paige was snuggling on my lap,

a rarity these days.

I asked her if she'd snuggle still

when I was old and gray.

She looked at me and rolled her eyes,

"I'll be too big, you know."

"You'll be to me my little girl."

She paused and then said, "No."

80.

Allowishes sat right down

and roasted marsh-a-mallows.

That is quite one silly dude,

that little elfin fellow.

He got a candle from the shelf

and sat up on great heights.

He found a toothpick for a stick

and made snacks through the night.

The other day he went right out

and brought us donuts home.

The elf, he started up the car

and 'cross the town he roamed.

We can't believe the things he does

around our house at night.

Santa should be proud of him

with his magical delights.

79.

There once was a Mommy named Susan
who often missed out on the snoozin'
'cause a baby or two
would wake up and then coo
and her beauty rest she would be losin'.

78.

Snuggled up in Mommy's bed,
at some point in the night.
Waiting for those loving arms
to wrap her safe and tight.

That little girl adores her so.
She's often found right there:
underneath each footstep,
'cause she thinks Mom walks on air.

And then she waits so patiently
until her turn to sit.
And on that lap she climbs, at last,
a perfect Mommy fit.

77.

Needing to feel inspired.
Not knowing what to write.
The thoughts aren't coming quickly.
It's becoming quite the fight.

It's very tough to find the time
to sit on down alone.
And then to jot down something good
that's flowing from the zone?

Let's hope this case of writer's block
is only temporary.
I'd hate to think I've been tapped out.
It's not quite January!

76.

Rockin' and rollin' on all fours.

Talkin' and cooin' and fillin' our drawers.

Blue eyes and green eyes lookin' around.

Laughter and giggles we have found.

Eatin' and spittin' the baby food.

We are learnin' and life is good!

75.

Sung to the tune of Jingle Bells. I heard the term Tranny Claus on The Office. I HAD to write a song.

Tranny Claus, Tranny Claus

I sat on your lap.

I found out you have two boobs

and that you're not a chap.

Oh, Tranny Claus, Tranny Claus

where'd you get that suit?

What'd you do with the real Claus

and how'd you steal his boots?

Went to the mall today,

'cause I wanted pics with him,

so I stood in line for hours long

and the results were very grim.

Your beard was all askew,

your lipstick rubbing off,

and when you tried to Ho, Ho, Ho

all you did was cough!

Oh, Tranny Claus, Tranny Claus

you are not a man.

I can't stand to be a part of

your Evil Christmas Plan.

74.

Allowishes Elf played another prank tonight.

Paige went a-visiting and he hid from our plain sight.

Mommy looked at least five times in the dolly's house.

Mama looked three more times. He was quiet as a mouse.

We asked dear Paige just where he sat when she first left to go.

She said to me, "I'll find him, Mom. It's ok, you know."

But little elfin magic can't be done without some aide

from moms who think they're smarter than the childhood brigade.

But home she came and straight she went to little elfin's side.

And there he was right in that house by Barbie's curvy side.

Our eyes went wide, our heads did shake 'cause little did we know

that Christmas Magic was, indeed, for both the young and old.

73.

Behind on the laundry,

the dishes, too.

Gonna get so bad

to hire a cleanin' crew.

Little by little

gonna get it done.

Workin' and cleanin'

just ain't no fun!

72.

When the first one is born,

you do all the right stuff,

like boiling the binky and

powdering the duff.

Books all around,

only the smartest of toys.

Make sure there's no

stereotypes for girls or for boys.

The diapers are cloth,

the food all organic.

Schedules are made

so no need for a panic.

The number-one speed dial,

right up at the top,

is the pediatrician

for when crying won't stop.

Then along comes kid two,

oops, and then there is three,

and time is spent juggling

when once it was free.

So you focus on moments

'cause they grow up so fast,

not the brand name of diapers

or each milestone they've passed.

The binky gets dirty;

the clothes are all stained,

and you look toward the day

when they're all potty-trained.

But you learn that no matter

which books that you've read

the love that you give them

is greater instead.

71.

Not many people know

I can't stand to have my toe:

touched.

It's like the chalkboard and the nails

and it makes me want to wail:

Stop!

Whenever someone's chose

to tickle those poor toes:

Beware!

I will flail and fling about

and I'm often prone to shout:

Ahhhhh!

And if that doesn't help

I'll also kick and yelp:

Enough!

70.

I hate the doctors scale

'cause it reads ten pounds high.

Why can't it be like mine

and perpetuate the lie?

That the holiday good eats

didn't settle on my gut

and melted off my hips,

legs and butt.

69.

I feel like I should put a clause in this post: It's just a poem, people, not a state of mind. Lol.

Icy fingers trace

unreadable patterns

as sweat beads on

arms, neck,

forehead, legs.

Heart pulses icy sludge

through veins,

reaching first the heart,

then lungs, torso,

fingers, toes.

Breathing changes from instinct

to conscious movement,

concentrating now on the

rise and fall,

rise and fall,

rise and fall.

Fighting the paralysis

creates resistance,

like breathing surfactant

through primitive gills.

Terror rises,

thoughts race toward

impending doom,

perpetuating the cycle

until at last adrenaline wanes,

heart beat slows,

blood warms,

fear fades,

and the body, once again,

returns to Resting State.

68.

Allowishes Pepper elf

came and sat upon our shelf.

He woke up in the night

and I think that he did write

Post-it notes on all our things

so that good old Santa brings

gladful tidings of great joy

and lots of presents, brand-new toys.

I think that he shall see

we're as good as we can be

with only little tiny fights,

but we make up and act right

because Santa dear now knows

we are trying head to toes

to love each other dear

through Christmas and New Years.

67.

An elf came a-visiting

through the mail today.

Santa sent him to our house

to watch us work and play.

Some magic dust was sent along

to help us act real nice.

The elf will help dear Santa Claus

to check our names, each twice.

Write things down and send reports,

he'll do this every night.

And Santa listens very close

to mark his list just right.

We hope to make him very proud,

this little elfin guy,

so Santa brings us presents

through the wintry, Christmas sky.

66.

Sibling rivalry is kicking in.

It seems so early to begin.

But when one has a toy,

the other says, "Oh, boy!"

and steals it with a grin.