we interrupt our scheduled programming to bring you

beach day!

the Mail Order Bride.

Here’s what happens: You wake up a crabby mommy. I mean a really crabby mommy. Because why is there clean laundry in a jumble on the floor in the boys’ bedroom? And why are you always out of milk? And also, why are they so LOUD all the time? Grrrr. Having been a very crabby mommy before, you know a change of scenery is in order so you hastily declare a beach day (woo-hoo!). Things get even LOUDER and where on earth is the sunscreen and why was it not put back in its proper place the last time it was used? Grrrr. Et cetera.

Then you go to the beach and there is space on the sand between you and the children who are jumping in the waves. There are a few other mommies to talk to. And there is space between you and the children as they build an aqueduct. And the wind and the waves drown out their voices into background noise. Next thing you know there are the remains of a picnic lunch, many sandy bodies, and the day is turning toward evening, so you head home. There are showers and vigorous double-washings of hair to get the sand out, even though you know you will never get the sand out. Even though you know you will be finding sand in your house, your car, your beach bag twenty years hence. And this thought makes your heart swell with happiness.

Then there is dinner (leftovers), pj’s, the night brushing of teeth. There are stories and tuck-ins (here the crabby mommy re-inserts herself with a stern, No get-outs! And she means it!) and then there are dishes to wash. Then the not-as-crabby mommy sits down at her desk and finds out the Mail Order Bride has had a busy day! That she abides! Sometimes the universe knows just what a crabby mommy needs.

So, Reader, here is another of the Mail Order Bride poems on Linebreak, one of my very favorite journals. Thank you to Johnathon and Ash, the editors at Linebreak. The poem is read beautifully by the poet Emilia Phillips — thank you, Emilia. And thank you to everyone who saw it before I did and sent notes of congratulations. I’m a not-so-crabby mommy today. πŸ™‚

14 thoughts on “we interrupt our scheduled programming to bring you

  1. Impeccable. Wish I would have written “This is not what I am.” And anytime ‘abseil’ is used in a poem (possibly a first!) is good news. Bravo for this, Molly – wonderful work at a super journal. Congrats on this and smile all day πŸ™‚

  2. Wahoo! I’ve been a crabby woman myself lately as I’m fighting off the remains of a summer cold. It was a delight to read “The Mail Order Bride Abides” this morning and forget my crabbies for a bit. Shine on!

  3. Molly, I’m obsessed with the MOB, and so happy to see another poem about (from?) her on Linebreak! I used “The Mail Order Bride Attempts a Letter Home” as an example of a poem that uses fragments for a class this week, and one of the poets said that she could “feel the motion of a ship” as she listened to it being read. We all agreed it left us breathless. And, I agree that Emilia Phillips does a terrific reading of this week’s poem. I’m looking forward to the next one.

    • Wow, Gail, I’m so honored to have my work used in your class. As for the about/from issue, I’m still trying to figure that out, too :). There should be some more MOB poems coming to light soon — I’ll keep you posted. Thanks again.

  4. All is well in the world when the crab(bie)s get left at the beach. They do nothing but pinch in the house. Sounds like a lovely day while the mail-order bride swept words into neat little piles… Glad you had a good one!

    • Aw, thanks, Janey. And glad to know I’m not alone. I always think of you on beach days, even though I have a slightly better car now :). (only very slightly better)

  5. Wow, congrats! That would have had me smiling all day as well! I haven ‘t seen your other Mail Order Bride poems…I’ll have to look for them. This one is beautiful. Love it.

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