Kristen Anne Glover

Five in Tow

Organizing the Boy

My son is a pack rat.  He saves everything from bits of broken pencil lead to rubber bands to dried flower blossoms.  Recently, we moved him into his own room, and in the process, we purged a large portion of his collection.  By we, I mean I, while he whined and gave me lots of reasons why that broken plastic fork needed to be moved to his new room.

While I wanted to throw away all the bent nails while he was sleeping, being a parent is all about compromise, so I thought about what I could do to make both of us happy.  I wanted a neat, tidy room with a spot for everything.  He wanted to keep all of his treasures.

One day, as I was walking through the garage, I spotted a solution.  My husband had a leftover piece of pegboard from a workbench project.  It was the perfect way for him to display some of his favorite “treasures” without leaving them all over the top of his dresser in one giant heap.

 

The finished product!

One of the edges was damaged, so my husband cut it down for me.  I painted it with some heavy-duty grey porch paint we had on hand.  Painting it was a necessity–it gave the board a finished, almost artistic look which is great because it’s now the focal point of the wall. I would love to make an interesting display out of it, but then my son wouldn’t have any place for his stuff and we’d be back to square one.  But if anyone ever wants to make a giant Battleship headboard, this would be the way to go!

While the paint dried, the boy and I ran to the hardware store and purchased a bunch of hooks, baskets, and other accessories for his board.  I wanted a magnetic strip for the top and bottom, but couldn’t find one so I bought two metal rulers and hot glued them to the painted pegboard.  A couple of magnets, some with clips, allow him to hang up art or other keepsakes.  My husband donated a magnetic knife holder so Jonathan can hang up his pocket knives, but it’s a little too heavy so I’m going to keep looking for a simple strip.  We need to add a few more hooks and some magnetic spice jars for things like nails, but for now, it’s done.  What do you think?

The Pegboard

It will never look this neat again.

 

The Bottom of the Hamper


At first I thought it was a dream,

A fairy-tale, or so it seemed—

A thing that happens on TV,

To moms more glamorous than me,

The kind who wear designer dresses,

And never pony-tail their tresses.

Yet there I was in sweatpants blue,

Running loads of laundry through.

When beneath some underwear

A glimpse of plastic did appear—

The Bottom of the Hamper.

It took a moment to realize

The significance of this great surprise.

“It really does exist!” I said,

And touched my fingers to my head.  

Not a single sticky shirt remained,

Or dirty pair of pants, grass-stained.

All the socks were put away,

“There is nothing left to wash today!”

I basked, I gloated, I even cried.

When a child coming close I spied,

With both arms full of play clothes vile,

And on his face, a little smile.

“Wait!  Give me just a minute,

To stare at it with nothing in it!”

But if he heard, he did not stop.

A jersey landed with a plop,

On the Bottom of the Hamper.

And there I stood as if awakened,

From a dream, like one mistaken.

Did I see it?  Was it true?

It was real, that much I knew.

And though I haven’t seen it since,

Of this one thing I am convinced—

There really is a Bottom of the Hamper.

*Disclaimer: No actual hampers were emptied during the writing of this poem.

 

Like this post?  Check out this one!

I Know Why You Had Kids

This is a post written out of anger, anger about the abuse that happens to children in this county and around the world.  It is written from the perspective of an abused child, a truly abused child.  It is not meant to be a condemnation of good parents who sometimes have a bad day.  It is meant to capture the voice of a child who cannot speak for herself, and what she might say to the parents who do not protect, defend, and cherish her, when she’s old enough to realize that they should.

 

I Know Why You Had Kids

I know why you had kids.

You had kids so you could be bigger than someone.

Stronger than someone.

Louder than someone.

You had kids because you had something to prove.

What does making babies prove?

I know why you had kids.

You had kids because you could.

You didn’t think about if you should.

And now you’re mad because you have to.

I wasn’t there when you made the decision

But somehow, it’s all my fault.

I know why you had kids.

You had kids so you could yell when you’re angry.

So everyone knows how bad I am,

And how hard you have it.

It feels good to say shut-up when you’re angry.

But it doesn’t feel good to hear it.

I know why you had kids.

You had kids because it was easy.

Now you say you don’t know how to do this.

But I didn’t know how to walk, and I learned.

I didn’t know how to talk, but I learned.

I didn’t know how to fight back, but I learned.

I know why you had kids.

You had kids because you wanted a pet, a toy.

You thought you could pick me up,

And put me down whenever you wanted.

You didn’t know I would still be there,

When you didn’t feel like it anymore.

I know why you had kids.

You had kids because you thought he’d stay.

Thought he’d love you now.

Or give you some attention.

All you wanted was some attention.

But he’s gone and all you have is me.

I know why you had kids.

You wanted something you’d never gotten,

Something you couldn’t give.

You wanted someone to love you,

All the time.

I wish I didn’t love you all the time.

I know why you had kids.

And it didn’t turn out like you thought.

But maybe it can.  Maybe you can step up.

Grow up.  Give up yourself.

Be the kind of parent you need to be,

So I don’t become the kind of person you are.