Being A Parent

The house is untidy from window to door,

Marks on the walls and food on the floor.

The washing's unwashed

And the dishes are too,

There's scum in the bathroom

And fat on the stew.

There are toys in the passage

And under our feet;

The garden's a jungle

When seen from the street.

So what have I done, then

To earn my repose?

To just look around me

You'd say no-one knows!

I've held a small hand

As her first steps she took.

I've made animal noises

As we read a book.

I've built a mud pie

And admired a snail,

I've rescued the cat

From a grip on her tail.

I've wiped away tears,

And I've listened to tales.

I've used mediation

To get smiles from wails.

So I guess what I've done

Isn't easy to see-

It won't clean the house

And it won't cook the tea

But if I have helped make a child feel good,

Know that she's loved and that she's understood,

Then I know that my work, though not easy to see

Is just as important as any could be.

--Pam Linke