I know a little lady
Who lives in a very little house.
She sleeps a lot, but when she’s awake,
She moves about, kicking the walls.
Why does she kick the walls?
Is she livid?
Is she ecstatic?
Is she mad?
I cannot tell.
I say I know her, and so I do,
Though I have never seen her.
She’ll be moving soon,
And though she may not like the move,
I doubt she’ll want to go back
To her very little house.
If you are a mother, then chances are you have experienced the joy (and sometimes discomfort) of having a little one kick you in the ribs—from the inside. My oldest son used to stretch his legs and hold that position, as if he were doing the sun salutation. My ribs didn’t like being pushed upon, so I’d massage until he decided to relax again. But the truth is, carrying a child inside of me was one of the most wonderful experiences I’ve ever known, morning sickness and all. I had four pregnancies, three babies. Someday I’ll tell you about the little one we didn’t get to meet….
The little girl for whom I wrote this poem is now 16 years old, and this morning she made me a most excellent breakfast of homemade flax seed chocolate waffles, topped with fresh cherries and sprinkled with a bit of stevia. She and I are doing the Trim Healthy Mama plan together, which means we get to eat better than we’ve ever eaten before—and lose weight in the process! I tell you, it doesn’t get better than that! She’s my only daughter, and though we don’t have a lot in common, I love her dearly, I enjoy spending time with her, and I thank God every day for the gift He gave us in our little girl.
Public domain photo from Pixabay