The child is screaming on her father's lap.
The lights are off, the rocking chair's relentless
urge impels her back and forth. She's screamed
the whole way home, the cab a mess of wrath,
the driver silent, everyone on edge,
the mother, in front, trying not to cry.
We have a little girl. She's one of "those
children," the "special" ones. "A little retarded girl."
"You know They find it hard to deal with change."
Finally,
she's quiet. Overtired, overfed, overstimulated
it's taken much too long to get her down.
Tomorrow she'll be up at six for school.
We'll put her on the bus and breathe a sigh.
2 comments:
I don't know what it is like for you but I know I want to cry sometimes (and do) with my two "normal" kids. I think mothers (and fathers) also get overtired, overfed (or underfed), and overstimulated so you deserve the sigh, the cry, the venting. Tonight I felt better (less cranky) when I knew they were asleep and I could sigh.
Thanks for the note, Jennifer. I admire the way you handle the life of a single parent. Everything is times two, at least!
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