Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
My Name Is Mom
It was brought to my attention after I became a Mom
That I was no longer me, but someone I’d become
I am still the same person that I was before the kids
But the reference to my identity was different before this.
Now I’m someone’s Mom, I don’t even have a name
And I was slow to notice it, so who was I to blame?
Someone I barely know quizzically looks at me and says
I think I know your daughter, she’s in my daughter’s class.
My name is D. I tell her and she looks at me confused
She’s waiting for my last name so it will give her clues
And here I must confess that her name as well eludes me
But her daughter’s name is Nancy, that’s ironic don’t you agree?
So for those of you awaiting the blessed event of your first child
Remember the words I’ve written here for one day you will smile
When that little boy or girl grows up and steals your identity
You’ll have to stop and remember just who you used to be.
poem
by
Donna McCord
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black