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Gosh, the stuff I do for my fellow ClubMom Mom Bloggers. Here you go Loni at Joy in the Morning, a poem by someone who doesn’t like poetry. However, using the template was easy and fun! (And no, I didn’t get the kids to help. They were too busy fighting over the Alice in Wonderland DVD.)

I am

I am from library books, from Dannon coffee yogurt, and after school snacks

I am from the home on the plains, in the middle of suburbia, on a street where no one cares and everyone moves out

I am from the Atlantic Ocean, and the Pacific too, removing tumbleweeds in the front yard, marveling over perfect Columbine flowers in the Rocky Mountains

I am from the house with the aluminum Christmas tree who grew up going to Charger games, borne to Leslie and Marilyne, growing up with Nathan and Lucie, hanging with their Big Bad Dad

I am from the island unto herself who likes to complain, the iconoclast and good daughter who couldn’t leave until she grew up at 30

I am from the half-and-half family, Hanukkah celebrating church goers, token gentiles in a flock of Jews, married to the doubting son of two preachers.

I am the first generation American born not far from Ellis Island, from gefilte fish to brie cheese, with side orders of grape leaves and fish and chips, a melting pot order to go

From older parents, an English Brooklyn dodger (though Yankees fan) who survived the depression and fought in WWII, the other a little girl in occupied France where Nazis knocked on the door looking for her father

I am the first generation American, with a Jersey childhood and a Southern California adolescence, raising my children at a Mile High

With boxes of photos from weddings to births, stuck away in closets, basements and hard drives, less precious than the flesh and blood people and memories that made them

(Picture courtesy of the U.S. Geological Survey - Central Region.)

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