Thursday, April 01, 2010



There's two to wash,
There's two to dry,
There's two who argue,
There's two who cry.

One's in the mud
having a ball,
The other holds a crayon
marking the wall.

Some days seem endless,
My patience grows thin,
Why was I chosen
To be a mother of twins?

The answer comes clear
at the end of each day,
As I tuck them in bed
and to myself say:

There's two to kiss,
There's two to hug,
And best of all,
There's two to love.


Someone read this last night at the SLMOT meeting I went to. I thought it was extremely appropriate. :)

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