This is a book I wrote a few years ago, called Mama's Minutes. It's about raising my kids. After rereading my journal one time, I wrote the poem, and then I decided I wanted to tell the whole story.
Mama's Minutes
Mama's Minutes
by Marty
Mama had a diary she kept beside her bed.
I'd see her write by candlelight; she said it cleared her head.
"Whatcha doin', Mama?" I'd ask when bedtime came.
"I'm keeping minutes of my day--sometime you'll do the same."
She jotted thoughts, she noted poems, she told silly little schemes.
She wrote her goals and challenges and all her wildest dreams.
"It seems your life's so simple, Mama,
Yet you have so much to say,
Is it hard to write exciting things in your journal every day?"
"No child, though dull to you it seems, my life is rich and fine,
And when examining each minute I see sparks of rapture shine.
On stormy days, with lightening, thunder, rain and such,
I'm searching so for rainbows that I don't notice much
Of when the sunny moments come into those cloudy days,
Or when a streak of laughter brightens up the haze.
So every eve I light the lamp and with my heart I listen..."
And then she sighed and on her cheek I saw a teardrop glisten.
"I see babies with spaghetti bowls atop their little heads.
I watch boys like playful puppy-dogs
Tumbling on their beds,
Skinned kneed ballerinas, in dungarees and braids,
Suitors bearing dandelions, or luke-warm lemonades.
These are blessed minutes I might not have received
If by shallow daily living I had been deceived.
So I take note of all my blessings, and my gratitude declare.
You see, your Mama's Minutes are often times a prayer."
So here I sit at midnight, my mind with doubts a-tumble.
With plans, hopes, and frustrations,
My thoughts are in a jumble;
And I reach for the diary I keep beside my bed,
And record this Mama's Minutes--
I find it clears my head!
Mama had a diary she kept beside her bed.
I'd see her write by candlelight; she said it cleared her head.
"Whatcha doin', Mama?" I'd ask when bedtime came.
"I'm keeping minutes of my day--sometime you'll do the same."
She jotted thoughts, she noted poems, she told silly little schemes.
She wrote her goals and challenges and all her wildest dreams.
"It seems your life's so simple, Mama,
Yet you have so much to say,
Is it hard to write exciting things in your journal every day?"
"No child, though dull to you it seems, my life is rich and fine,
And when examining each minute I see sparks of rapture shine.
On stormy days, with lightening, thunder, rain and such,
I'm searching so for rainbows that I don't notice much
Of when the sunny moments come into those cloudy days,
Or when a streak of laughter brightens up the haze.
So every eve I light the lamp and with my heart I listen..."
And then she sighed and on her cheek I saw a teardrop glisten.
"I see babies with spaghetti bowls atop their little heads.
I watch boys like playful puppy-dogs
Tumbling on their beds,
Skinned kneed ballerinas, in dungarees and braids,
Suitors bearing dandelions, or luke-warm lemonades.
These are blessed minutes I might not have received
If by shallow daily living I had been deceived.
So I take note of all my blessings, and my gratitude declare.
You see, your Mama's Minutes are often times a prayer."
So here I sit at midnight, my mind with doubts a-tumble.
With plans, hopes, and frustrations,
My thoughts are in a jumble;
And I reach for the diary I keep beside my bed,
And record this Mama's Minutes--
I find it clears my head!
Writing this book took me almost a year. I imagined it on bookshelves around the country and in the homes of young mothers who needed encouragement and a light-hearted look at being a mom. I learned a lot about publishing a book, and as it turned out, it was never on too many shelves.
Then I decided it was worthwhile even just for my kids, since it was all about them. It was my viewpoint on their childhood.
I've now realized that I am the main one to benefit from my work. It helped me see my life in better perspective than I could see it as it happened. I recognized growth in myself and what my challenges and experiences had taught me. Publishers and book signings would not have changed a thing for me, so it doesn't matter that there weren't any. Writing it and later reading it continues to bring me joy. It's my story.
I blog now, and it still helps me see things as they really are, and why they are perfect that way. It helps me count my blessings, and become more aware of the blessings that come in disguise.
How does writing clear your head?
Then I decided it was worthwhile even just for my kids, since it was all about them. It was my viewpoint on their childhood.
I've now realized that I am the main one to benefit from my work. It helped me see my life in better perspective than I could see it as it happened. I recognized growth in myself and what my challenges and experiences had taught me. Publishers and book signings would not have changed a thing for me, so it doesn't matter that there weren't any. Writing it and later reading it continues to bring me joy. It's my story.
I blog now, and it still helps me see things as they really are, and why they are perfect that way. It helps me count my blessings, and become more aware of the blessings that come in disguise.
How does writing clear your head?
3 comments:
i love this! what a beautiful idea. i'm sure your kids would cherish it. if nothing else, they can learn from the master!
That made me change my perspective. Thank you. Writing puts my thoughts in order and thus my life seems much calmer on paper.
Writing clears my head by letting me organize my thoughts and purge them. It does frustrate me a little when blogging that I can't do all of them though! However, I find that when I have to change things around to sound more positive, it changes my attitude, which is a great thing.
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