It’s always the way,
Comes out of the blue,
When I’m trying to rush you.
Whether it’s sick or poo,
The timing is never right,
While I’m rushing or in the middle of the night.
All the tantrums,
Also come out of the blue,
And I’m talking about both of you.
Whether it’s at church or on a plane,
You both wait to make your move,
Both doing things we disapprove.
Being a parent you must be prepared,
Many things come out of the blue,
And nothing ever stays new.
Whether it’s point blank refusals ,
Or food thrown at the wall,
Or a screaming fest in the middle of the mall.
The unexpected will challenge us all,
Coming out of the blue,
The above couldn’t be more true.
Whether we want it to or not,
We will think that it won’t happen to us,
It will take time as a new parent to adjust.
But know this,
It will always come out of the blue,
And always be near a loo.
* Sharing my poem with Prose for Thought