The Teaching Mum

A light-hearted look at parenting through the eyes of a very busy English Teacher.

The Ballad of the Boy


So now you’re the big ‘one’,

I thought a poem might be fun.

Then I thought: ‘Do you know?’

You’re my only boy, so I’m giving this a go,

I thought I would attempt something original and new,

A group of poems where the subject is you.

Let’s be clear – poems don’t have to rhyme.

This is just my intro.  Please, lend me your time.


Let’s tell a story with my first poem,

A narrative tale we shall say.

We’ll journey back to the beginning,

You were due at the beginning of January,

Usually this is a cold,


depressing kind of month.

But, despite the rain falling down outside,

You brought sunshine into our lives.

The early days were such a blur,

days filled with

endless feeds,



and wees.

Then your Dad returned to work,

your sister went to nursery,

And it was just me and you,

My son.

Our days were now filled with washing

And making sausage casseroles.

Sometimes we went walking.

But, most days,

In we stayed,

And cuddled.

I love you.

I love a Haiku,

Let me explain them to you,

They are Japanese.


The first line is five,

The second line is seven,

The last line is five.


They are a snapshot,

Of something you love dearly,

I love you dearly.


Your eyes are bright blue,

Your head still smells like heaven,

Your smile gives me joy.


You can climb the stairs,

Giving me a heart attack,

Must buy a stair guard!


You climb off the bed,

Who on Earth taught you this skill?

My clever young boy.


You love your sister,

I think she likes you also,

No major fights.  Yet.

You make us happy,

Our precious number one son,

We are now complete.


Wow! I am on it,

So now let’s write a sonnet.

I’ll continue now.


Fourteen lines ten syllables and rhyming;

No waiting around you arrived so fast;

Waters broke in Natwest Bank – good timing;

Now you’re one, how quickly a year has passed.

We gave you a name we weren’t sure you’d fit;

Your middle name once belonged to my Dad;

Your Dad wants you wearing a Barnsley kit,

Whereas, I think Leeds. Would it be that bad?

But, seriously please follow your dreams;

And become whoever you want to be;

When life gets tough and things aren’t what they seem;

Recall how proud we are, your Dad and me.

Enough with the mush, please don’t take the ‘mick’;

I’ve tried to make light with some limericks…

…There once was a Ninja Flippin’ boy,

Who thought an electric toothbrush was a toy,

Take it away, with your sanity you’ll pay,

The non-stop buzzing, oh what a joy.

I once had a baby I nicknamed the Dude,

Because he was cool and calm and in no way rude,

Then when he would never ever sleep, into the pillow I would weep,

Screaming and swearing, but never saying anything too crude.




When we decided we wanted another baby,

There were no ‘ifs’ or ‘buts’ or even a ‘maybe’.

The house is always dishevelled, my head is no longer levelled,

And no part of me looks at all like a lady.

Now for some some imagery…

With poetry, you can make the words dance across your page.   This here is a snapshot of you at a certain age.

Your laugh is chocolate to me, so sweet and so addictive.  Your smile is my sunshine; with it such joy you give.

Your cry is a volcanic eruption from  deep within the earth; your heart is what I held from the moment I gave birth.

Your cuddles are my life line when things get a little too much; your little fingers are like locks gripping onto everything you touch.

I’ll be your guardian angel, your minder and your keeper, and in time, my boy, I guess one day you’ll be a good sleeper.

You and your sister are my light in the dark, you make my half a whole. The slushiness ends here, before it gets out of control.


There, ‘thank God’ you cry – I have finished.

You can breathe a sigh of relief,

I attempted a narrative, haikus, a sonnet,  limericks and rhyming verses –

but feel I was quite brief.

Don’t worry, you’ve reached the end and I am done.

But, no matter what, please remember this: no one loves you like I do, my only son.


“Stop being so self indulgent and mushy, Mum!”


3 thoughts on “The Ballad of the Boy

  1. So beautiful … I can imagine the smiles when your little one reads it in years to come. My, you write so well.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Pingback: Back to Work with Love the Sales | The Teaching Mum

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