A Poem

My toddler will not stay in bed. The same toddler who I sat up with during the night because he had a fever and was shaking with chills. The same toddler who threw up several times last night. Yes, that toddler is suddenly feeling better and will not stay in bed.

It's nap time. That precious time on a day like today when I'm home at work with a sick kid and need to get some work done. The hour and a half I'm supposed to have to catch my breath. It's nap time and my toddler will not stay in bed.

I remember the days when a crib did the trick. The glorious days before the climbing began. The days when my toddler would talk for 30 minutes before falling asleep, but eventually fall asleep he would, snuggled secure, contained in his crib. But now the high front wall is no more, replaced by a guardrail meant to catch a sleeping child from rolling out, but an easy escape for my toddler who will not stay in bed.

Someday I know my toddler will be a teenager and I will fight to get him out of the bed. But today, it would be so nice if my toddler would stay in his bed.

(they say art is supposed to be an outlet, a release...I don't know if I feel better yet, I think it may depend on whether my toddler finally stays in bed.)