My family has got me on a poem kick. They're good at writing poetry on a whim. I didn't really inherit that gene, but I suppose I can hold my own sometimes.

I wrote as they texted each other back and forth:

"I'd respond if I could pay attention
But a certain 4-year-old, whose name I won't mention,
Is always asking for my interaction.
It's hard to create with that kind of distraction."

It made me realize if I am going to randomly write poetry like my family does, it'll be about my kids. :)

Mom said Micah is a "whirlwind of cuteness."

Grandpa responded:
"Micah is cute, of that there's no doubt,
Whether he is laughing, crying, or just in a pout,
But there's another coming along.
His name is Benji, he's active and strong.
He is blessed with a middle name which sets him apart;
It is something I treasure, it is dear to my heart.
I'm not saying he is better
Or cuter than brother
But there is a bind that ties
Which we share with one another."

Benji's middle name, of course, is Joseph, after Grandpa. I think that means more to Grandpa than I realized it would. :)

Later I wrote: Benji's awake, there goes my concentration Especially as he starts to cry louder in frustration. He's stuck in his crib--I'd hoped he'd retreat Back to sleep, since his brother made sleeping a feat When he jumped on his bed and bonked his head. (I guess now I call a doctor to tell him not to do that again) But he's awake and gabbing, no signs of slowing, So for now I am done, back to mommyhood I am going.

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