This morning,
Sam missed the bus,
and I stubbed my toe on a skateboard
laying near the stairs.
Maggie’s hair needed braiding,
the sink was full of dirty dishes,  
and Katie’s car was parked behind mine again.
I backed into the garbage can,
scattered garbage into the street,
and had to dig through the glove box to find
lunch money for Sam.
No parking spaces nearby, had to walk clear across school parking lot
hot and sweaty,
forgot to comb my hair
and the principal called me ma’am.
Back at home,
piles of dirty laundry,
and my mother called,
while I was up on a ladder washing
those horribly huge windows,
just wanted to talk.
This afternoon, Peter interrupted me no less than five times
while I was trying to write.  
Mom? Did you wash my blue shirt,
Our neighbor Cindy is here, Tessie’s on the phone-
something about a party tomorrow?
The lawn was covered with bicycles, scooters, baseball bats;
why does every child in the neighborhood
flock to my front step,
just as I'm hoping to take a quick nap?
The phone rang off the hook
while I was trying to cook dinner,
and I burnt the roast.
I finally got the kids tucked in
an hour past their usual bedtime
but the dog didn’t want to go out,
and Katie forgot to feed the cats,
even though I asked her twice,
so I did that before I turned out
all the lights.
Can’t anybody turn off a light around here?
And then when I finally fell into bed,
my husband was watching football on the TV.
He knows I can’t stand football.

Nothing left to do, but say my prayers
and end another day;
Dear God,
Thank-you for busy mornings,
noisy children, scattered toys, missed school-buses
beloved pets,
and the smell of fresh, shiny, young hair as I comb it.
Thank-you for another day to walk in the sun
on my two strong legs.  
Thank you for giving me two strong arms to clean
my glorious wall of windows,
while I gaze at  the sparrows
building their nest in the trees nearby.
And stacks of dirty dishes,
to remind me of the plentiful food that
satisfies my family’s hungry bellies.
Thank you for doorbells, phone calls from mom
and constant interruptions by my teen-age son,
who still wants to talk to me.
Thank you for the laughter of children at play,
drifting like music, from the large front yard.
And another evening,
to linger over one last bedtime story,
and hear soft I love you’s
as tiny hands stroke my cheek,
tired and content.
Thank-you for the chance to walk through
brightly lit rooms
at the end of the night,
and reflect on the joy and comfort
that each one holds inside.
And for my darling husband,
the football fanatic,
who always fills my car with gas,
never complains when I eat potato chips in bed,
and who still gazes at me with eyes
that say,  I’ll love you forever.