The Pony of My Dreams

 

Have I ever told you about my pony?  You know, the one I wanted when I was five?

She had sparkly hooves made of diamonds, as sure as I’m alive.

Her hair was cotton candy, and it shimmered in the sun

It fell in waves of ringlets when she broke into a run.

 

Her skin was deep magenta, vibrant as could be.

I longed to brush against it and have her nuzzle me.

I dreamed of braiding that horse’s tail, of playing with her cotton candy curls.

I loved to watch her jump and run, and do her horsey twirls.

 

Her eyes were aquamarine, of course, as though they were from the sea,

And her nose had cinnamon freckles, which was absolutely adorable to me.

Her eyelashes were at least two inches long, and her tail nearly touched the ground,

She was astonishingly beautiful, and in her a friend I found.

 

When I dreamed of her, I would confide in her, my beautiful, sparkly friend.

All of the things happening in my life, from the beginning of the day to the end.

I told her my problems, my fears, and my joys, she listened every time.

I hoped as I grew she would stay near me, that would have been sublime.

 

But little girls grow up and dreams grow old, and although they may never die,

As you think of them less, think of other things more, they start to prepare to fly.

I found my wings and she received hers.  Ready or not, here we come!

We grew together, then grew apart.  I had new things to discover and couldn’t be glum.

 

I had a hard time leaving my friend behind, though I knew that it must be done.

This was the time for grown-up things, no more childish fun.

The truth is I still sit and think, even now, of days gone by and the time before.

When my life was simpler and not filled all day with responsibilities and chores.

 

A mortgage and kids, the electric bill, too,

Don’t forget the groceries and the house looks like a zoo.

Dinner’s late, the dog’s got out, the cat’s now up a tree,

Of  course, who do we call to fix all this?  None other than Mommy!

 

There are many days I envy my husband because he works outside the home,

The days when I don’t have time for a shower or to even use a comb.

At the end of the day I am happy, even though it is a stressful job

At the end of the day a lot of times I feel like an exhausted blob.

 

If you wonder why my house is a disaster, and trust me, it always is,

It’s because I love my family, and something has to give.

My priority is to give them what they need and take care of the rest as I can,

I think most moms are in the same boat and so, I would like to request an official ban.

 

I hereby ban the word should, as in “you should mop and sweep and dust.”

I ban judgment and competition between mothers, I think this one’s a must.

I ban the skewed idea that somehow mom must do it all,

And that if she doesn’t get it done post haste, the sky is going to fall.

 

Instead of all this judgment, let’s commit to positivity.

I will take care not just of my family, but also take care of me.

I will help in the house, but others should, too, if they live here as well.

I will try to speak in a soft voice and try very hard not to yell.

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