Poetry

Taylor is on a poetry kick right now. She wanted to submit some poetry to PBS Kids online, so we looked at some basic styles of poetry, and several examples of poems. Nevertheless, she was completely intimidated, and worried that her poems would not stack up. This, of course, irritated the hell out of me, because after nine years of trying to impress upon her that it is not our job to worry about what other people think of us, here she was worrying about how other people would view her poetry. So, in a spurt of impatience, I told her to stop worrying about the form that her poems took and to simply write for the joy of it. I told her that rules were stupid and made to be broken.

Well!  Aren't I the Smarty?  Apparently these were the magic words…rules are stupid and made to be broken. Wow. Taylor loved that idea. She started writing poems like there was no tomorrow, and we submitted half a dozen or so to the PBS Kids website before the day was out. I'm glad that what I said made sense to her, and helped to free her to express herself. That's great and I'm happy, but I am also worried that my words of wisdom seemed to make such a great impression on her. I really don't want to hear them parroted back to me when she is sixteen and sneaking out of the house to meet her beau, who will be dressed in black leather and a mohawk, ready to elope on the back of a Harley Davidson. So, I guess I should temper my enthusiasm, and remind myself that I don't want to be a grandmother before I am forty. See? This is the kind of thing that keeps me up at night. Gah.