Modern Bedtime Story…

(Photoprompt)

Do not judge without pause…

Our twilight hours are illuminated by blue screens

and chuckles of delight,

for you see…

my body does not know day nor night.

Atypical regulation is absent

my mind does not close at the dimming of light.

So I ask of you please,

stop and look…at our daily fight.

A pillow for one with two joyous heads

because I don’t like going to bed.

When I close my eyes what happens then?

And are certain our dreams are just pretend?

There’s no song my Mum can happily hum

that doesn’t hurt my ears,

No classic tale she can tell

that will settle down my tears.

I need her here, but, she must not touch,

Oh, I love my Mummy so very much!

Beneath the covers I feel her warmth

she does not move…for that can cause a storm!

I watch a vid and another too

but none of them are ever new!

That would be too scary

far,

too SCARY.

I like to know exactly what comes after

this ensures the echos of my laughter.

It calms the beating of my heart

my tablet, you see, plays an integral part.

I went to bed at seven and now the clock says twelve,

My Mum, she is reading, facts in which she’ll delve.

I know that she is tired I see it in her eyes

and all throughout the night she dreams of starless skies.

I know when time has come, she tells me one, two, three

then pulls the covers up and we cuddle…but just our feet.

And now i’m feeling safe and now I’m feeling tired

and contrary to belief I do not wake feeling wired!

My Mum, she does not hum a song or tell me of a tale

instead, she falls asleep each night, with the world

telling her she failed.

Image used via photoprompt (Maricris Cabrera)

To my baby girl.

Baby girl, when you were born and they placed your beautiful soul into my arms I made you, one, single, promise. I didn’t promise you diamonds or wealth, I promised the only thing I could give, love. There would never be a moment in your life when you wondered if I loved you, you would know this at a core soul level. When you was two and the doctors said, you have learning needs, I made you one, single, promise, I would become the voice you needed. I would fight every fear I have to stand toe to toe with authority, I would be your soldier. When you was five and you waltzed into that classroom, I made you just the one, single, promise, that even though you could not see me, I was there, always, wings outspread protecting you. When you were seven and you said, I don’t want to go to school, my heart broke, they had broken you and for a split second I let the world suffocate me, my soul burning in the ashes I was reborn. I screamed louder, I searched harder, I stopped at nothing, I became the dreaded parent that every teacher hates. When you was eight and you said, I like school, I once again began to breathe. This year I’ve seen your anxiety reach new levels, I’ve watched as finally your voice became a whisper, I’ve watched you crumple and bounce back again and one day I will write of when you was nine and everything changed, yet nothing changed for my promises to you, baby girl, they are a lifetimes promise. And so the story begins, when you was nine and you got to spend time with the therapy dog I saw the hinted whisper in your eyes that finally they could hear your inaudible cries. ♥

School echoes on the last of the summers breeze.

zoo 150

My dearest child the days have come

and passed and summers end is upon us.

School lingers, the mornings darken

as I fold away your uniform

let me tell you of my thoughts…

You are the calm between the beats of my

heart, the pride that swells every time I see

your smiling face.

Do not forget this.

Do not ever forget this.

This world can appear topsy turvy,

your soul is oh so sensitive but know this,

you are the product of me,

inside of you,

inside of me,

is a ferocious lioness,

let her be your strength.

And when the lights shine too bright

and the noise screams

too loud, and when everything

is too hard, remember this,

You are my proudest accomplishment,

my heart skips a beat at every breath you take,

butterflies swarm through me every time

you calm your raging heart

and let that whisper out into the universe.

You are all that you are meant to be.

You are perfect, you see.

There’s no…

*Poems theme, the acceptance of occupational therapy led specialist equipment for a child with neurological needs ( gravitational insecurities, ASD, learning needs) Sigh.
There’s no

preparation

for the hiccoughs

along our road.

No amount of

reading,

talking

or thinking.

No one to catch

me if I pause

and consider.

So I choose

to see this

with the same

silver lining I see

in every cloud that lands

upon my mat.
Karen Hayward ©2016

Fear of unknown proportions.

The soul knows what the mind forgets.

I watch you standing at the window as rain streams ferociously down the glass

I watch as unknown terrors become a remembered whisper.

As your soul envelopes your heart slowing the rapid beat into a rhythmic lullaby.

Your eyes flash brighter than any lightening as a smile creeps across your face.

Your fear washed into the drains as flash floods create an explosion of giggles.

“This is cool, mum”. You say as the skies rumble,

Not their fear inducing rumble

Just a rumble.

You catch raindrops on your hand as we search for the rainbow,

Never before has that arch of beauty felt so magical then in this moment.

Please, never thank me.

Thank you…never have these words hurt more than when you are sobbing in my arms.
Thank you… never does a tear come so close then when fear has you in its grip…and you are thankful that I am there.
Thank you…never more than now have I wanted to tell you to please, please forget your manners.
For never when you are breaking do you need to thank me for being there.
Never.

More storms, we are camped out eating ice creams under the covers 😀

Dauntless.

Today I am reminded of the time when you asked me, can you be a member of dauntless.

Your every tear that falls
falls in me too.
As your soul fights to be brave
mine is torn apart.
Today your heart feels so very dark.
So how can I tell you…
Your heart is beating too fast,
and every sound is louder than the last.
There’s a swarm of bees in your body
That can’t break free.
Your legs hurt
Your arms hurt
Your skin hurts
Your soul hurts.
Tears are caught on your tongue
and all you want is mum.
But instead you are at school
But instead you are at school.

I’m sorry but not sorry.

I’m sorry, my beautiful darling I’m sorry that I pushed your boundaries beyond the scope you see. I’m sorry. Take my heart and place it inside your chest and I will beat a calming lullaby for you to mimic as you travel through your school day. Take my whispers and place them tickling against your ear and hear me as I sing to you songs of love and wisdom. Take my hand and feel it fingers entwined with yours my grip tight, you are mine, you are never alone. Take my hand. I’m sorry your body and mind is screaming a chaotic melody that is tip tapping, tip tapping in the blood that rushes through your veins. I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry my beautiful girl. The London underground is torture for most, I’m not sorry. Changes occur daily, I’m sorry, but I’m not sorry. The unknown scares man more than any other thing in this universe and you faced it bravely…I’m not sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry there were staircases at every turn I’m sorry one was spiralled. I’m certainly not sorry that you faced each set with the courage of a lioness. I’m sorry your panic bubbled inside your heart and simmered in your blood. I’m not sorry that you trusted me, I’m never sorry that you trust me. I’m sorry escalators were our final and only choice, I’m sorry you broke, I’m sorry tears fell, I’m sorry your heart hurt from beating. My beautiful girl I am not sorry it happened. I’m sorry you had to walk to the top of a switched off escalator that ran through a tunnel and reached to the skies, dear God I am sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t allowed to walk with you, I was feet away and felt each stab as the knife plunged into my soul with each step. I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry that I met you at the top, your eyes filled with fear your arms shaking, your legs like jelly. And there the glint of hope, the glint of bravery, the glint of excitement…I am not sorry, you did it, I am not sorry.
I’m sorry, school is again upon us and you are tired, anxiety is bubbling and the world us too bright, too loud and too much. You survived engineering work on the London underground….you got this my beautiful lioness.

Just rambling.

There is nothing I love more in life than listening to children communicating in this odd and exciting world. My daughter has her besty round today and so far they have had me in stitches….

Besty…is blind.

My monkey is autistic and has SPD and hates clothes and heat…(ages 8+9)

Me: Where are your clothes?

Monkey: I took them off. I’m hot.

Me: You have to keep clothes on when you have people round.

Monkey: Mum shes blind, that’s why shes my best friend, I don’t have to wear clothes round her!!!!!

Ha ha ha I cannot argue with this!

Monkey:Mum, can me, besty, daddy and grandad go park? Actually not Grandad he walks too slow.

Me: Park is closed for cleaning today.

Besty: The one by the school is open that one is always open.

Me: they closed that one for cleaning.

Besty: Monkey, I think your mum tells lies!!!

Monkey: My mum doesn’t tell lies…

Walks away explaining that I don’t tell lies but I sometimes do tricks on her, and says, I might be tricking them that the park is closed. lol

This one made me giggle alot….

Besty: Karen, what are you doing, I can hear you singing….

Me: Taking a break sweety, if you need anything go to…hubby.

Besty: A break!! You’re so lucky to have a break I never get a break!!!

Me: Yeah cos your days are so busy what with all that playing lol

Besty: I have to do home work as well you know!!!

HA HA HA HA HA….God I wish I only had to worry about homework, I miss those days lol

Oh I love these girls.

My kinda different.Writing prompt., Diverse.

Writing prompt diverse

She isn’t like you,
she’s different.
She isn’t wrong,
and neither are you.
She’s just different.
She has a love of films,
So long as they ain’t for kids.
She thinks Tim Burton rocks,
and don’t ever,
I mean ever
play Marvel/DC/star wars eye spy with her,
you will lose.
She can tell you what day any date within the month will be,
she spent ten minutes searching her monopoly money for the £60 note.
She loves the bad boys, Anakin, Oscar, Wolverine, Tony Stark….poor Captain America always gets a raw deal from her.
She thinks everyone deserves to be helped,
no matter what the crime.
She holds open doors and smiles,
but gets so utterly confused when people don’t say, thank you
and tears fall and fall.
Shes hot, always, like a walking radiator,
I know why you stare as rain falls and everyone huddles in their hat, scarf and gloves,
except her, in her shorts and t-shirt dancing through the puddles
I know why you stare,
I wish you knew how much I cared.
I understand what you see
I try to believe.
Yeah she’s a little harder than others,
and you’ll spend the day repeating yourself,
Over
and
Over,
until she realises, over there means over there!
She can’t tie laces or brush her hair,
She needs prompting to dress
and never, ever grabs her coat…or jumper.
Making a mess is easy
tidying it up is a battleground,
she needs what she needs,
some days nothing,
Other days she has an arm full of teddies a bag of clothes, books, DVDs, dolls, action figures and random stones,
‘here’ she says cramming it in the bag
without it, the day just won’t happen,
so together we push, pull and heave.
She’s not like you,
she’s different,
she’s still a kid of almost nine,
just a kid,
she’s not like yours,
she’s different
and that’s okay,
she’s my kinda different.