Wednesday, May 23, 2012

The Wild One

This week, we give you:

WILD (adj)

1 a : living in a state of nature and not ordinarily tame or domesticated <wild ducks>
   b (1) : growing or produced without human aid or care <wildhoney> 
      (2) : related to or resembling a corresponding cultivated or domesticated organism

2 a : not inhabited or cultivated <wild land>
   b : not amenable to human habitation or cultivation

 Please remember:
  • Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
  • You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
  • The word itself needs to be included in your response.
  • You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above. 
  • Your post must include a link back to Trifecta.
  • Please submit your post's permalink, not the main page of your blog. For example: not
  • You may only submit one post per blog per challen

The Wild One

My First-Born was a dream-come-true:
Sweet was her personality, patience her virtue.
But I wasn’t satiated and toyed with Fate,
As I was still in love with my motherly state.

My Second arrived with unstoppable fervor,
And soon earned himself the nickname, Terror.
Off he went, once he started going,
Full speed ahead, he never considered slowing.

At the store I’d turn my back,
And there he'd snuck inside a clothes rack.
Out in public or even at home,
He was never still, he was born to roam.

Why did we ever bother with a high chair
When all he did was go underneath there?
All I did, day in and day out
Was to catch him just before he wiped out.

There was only one thing on his mind:
Go, go, go! as I trailed him from behind. 
Exasperated, my days would be,
While he ran, climbed, and hopped with glee. 

Only asleep, ever so sweet, was time divine
When I can adore that wild child of mine. 
Off to bed I should go, I’d tell myself right then,
For tomorrow best be ready to chase him again. 

And a phase it was, as they all are,
He is now five and never goes far.
Time has flown by much too quickly,
Babies no more, my two I love so dearly.

Now, all this chasing is but a memory
Made of sweet thoughts replacing misery.
For now when I see a toddler running wild,
I know I’ve been humbled by my very own child.


  1. Oh. How. I. Love. This.

    And that is all.
    A simple 'I love this', and a 'thank you' for sharing...

    1. Thanks, Kim! The first thing I thought of when I saw the word 'wild' was -- my wild child. And when the definition fit, the words just came out...

  2. So sweet! Well thought out. And so true!! Having two sons myself, I can firmly attest to all of this. I can't say I miss those days much, but I can sympathies with those still going through it.

    1. Exactly! I don't miss them, either, but at least I can remember them fondly now. Thanks so much for stopping by, Swirls!

  3. Oh, that's so sweet! You do a great job of conveying both the love and the exasperation that come with having a child that age.

    1. I vividly remember being 'exasperated' EVERY. SINGLE. WAKING. MOMENT during that time. I'm glad it's behind me now, because it was so tiring! Thanks for reading, Annabelle!

  4. This is a lovely poem about children and being a mommy. :-) I can identify with your experiences with the second one. :-)


    1. Thank you, Imelda! I think all moms can relate at one point or another, just in varying degrees... I don't mean to stereotype boys and girls, but my experience with them were just so: calm girl and active boy. Hard for me to imagine you with four boys! Yikes!

  5. Wonderful, wonderful poem! It does go by quickly and that "wild one", I'm afraid to say, will resurface in cycles because it's just part of their being. My wild one turns 19 this July and he is still a handful for a usually, very good way. I wouldn't change him because it just is him.

    1. I'd expect nothing less, Gina, but thanks for the reminder! It's good to be able to take a little breather between the cycles =) I can't even begin to imagine the teenage years!

  6. :) I had girls who then had boys and girls of their own - at least ALL of them have gone through their Wild Child phase.

    thanks for making me smile - enjoy this time - all too soon . . . well, my oldest grandson is 20 now!!!!

    1. Thank you, Barbara! We must all be humbled by at least one wild child, right? They sure do keep us on our toes! In time, your grandchildren will be having their bunch of wild children... Time really flies.

  7. Your boy sounds like mine! It's funny that your son hid in clothing racks, I did the same thing--'til I was at least 10 or so!!

    Great poem, I love the reflection at the end. I am looking forward to more peaceful days, and dreading them a bit as well.

    1. This makes me think of that book, Go, Dogs, Go! Except it would be Go! Boys, Go! Too much energy. I don't think I can do it again; I'm too old. Thanks, Rachael!

  8. Such a sweet poem. I've felt the love and exasperation you wrote about. I have two boys, but they are so very different in personality and behavior. I too, have fond memories (and make more every day :))

    1. Janna, truthfully, I only found these memories to be 'sweet' long after they were over. I was too tired to think them in the moment. I wonder what other ones I'll find a few years down the line. Hindsight is always better. Thanks for reading!

  9. Ha, reminds me of my second! This is a fun piece. Thanks for linking up