I like my ____ because ______.

Did you know, April is National Poetry Month?
If you're not a writer.
Or teacher.
Probably not.

But it is.
Now.
I'm no poet.
Because.
Well.
I'm just not.
I love to write.
And I do, on most random afternoons consider myself a writer.
An unpublished writer. :)
And maybe I'm thinking about writers because one came to visit me my kids at school.
She was lovely.
And British.
And just.
Everything.

And one of my kids asked her: How do you get something published?
And it was cool.
To hear about agents.
And Publishing Companies.

And all the work that goes into it.
And really.
When I do finish my stories about magical libraries.
And talking catepillars.
I shall "publish" them for the kids.

The end.

But for April, the kids and I are all poets.
Earlier this week we took Walter Dean Myers' Poem, LOVE THAT BOY.
And wrote our own Inspired By (Just like, Love that Dog)

And today, we took the book, The Best Part of Me,
And wrote poems about the best part of us.

And of course, ::gulp::, as a teacher, I have to go first.
Show me, teach me, watch me.
So.
I thought about it.
Talking about what I love about me.
And it was especially hard TODAY after I realized my size 9 pants from the juniors department no longer fit.

And I had to put my big girls size 6 from the women's department on.
So I went with my eyes.
My big.
Chocolate.
Perfectly shaped eyes.
And I do.
I do love those.

But as the kids set out to write, I thought.
What do I really WANT to love?
And so on the big white board, on the easel.
In front of all my beautiful children,
I.
Wrote.
This:
 

My Strong Thighs
By Miss W
I like my thighs because they are sturdy and strong.
Big.
Thick.
Filled with MUSCLE.

They carry me, hold me, plant me firm to the ground.
Reminders, daily of where I came from and where I am going.

I love the jiggle and the wiggle when I run.
And when I jump.
Or race.

I love the jiggle and the wiggle when I walk.
And click, click, click down the hall.

Or the way they tell a story.
Before I even get there.

Of hard work.
And love.
The best kind of self love.

The way they make Heidi say, "I wish I had legs like those."
And Chris say, "Those are STRONG looking legs."

I love the way that when I look in the mirror...
They change.
And sometimes I see HUGE.
And ugly.
And unsteady.
And the longer I stare.
The sadder I feel.

Until.
I remember the jiggle and wiggle of the water as I swim.
And the joy.
Of moving.
Not standing in the mirror.
But.
Moving.
Through this life.

Ok, so maybe I only wrote the first three stanzas for the kids :)
But I'm excited to hear what they wrote about their lovely hands.
And necks.
And eyes.
And heads.
And hearts. :)

Your turn, fill in those blanks, "I like my_____because_____.
And yes, Diane, even you :).

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