Ugly Renaissance Baby

If King David Had Been A Stay At Home Mom, Psalm 1

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The following is the first in a series of faux-Psalms, inspired by the elegant writing style of the Psalmists as well as the plight of the average stay at home mom. I considered calling them Molms, but I was concerned no one would get it. While humorous in nature, don’t assume for a second these aren’t actual prayers I’ve prayed.


Deliver me O Lord, for my soul is troubled within me,
The whines of small children beset me,
Their disorder besets my house.
They sew chaos and reap ruin;
Behind them no block stands atop another
and no home decor remains assembled even for a day.

“Where is my snack?” they cry morning and night,
“I want to watch a show,” is their incessant cry.
Havoc lies in their wake,
it plagues my soul without ceasing,
Yogurt and Desitin encrust my couch
and I am weary within.

Save me, O God, from worry and despair,
You alone, O Redeemer, can remove peanut butter from grout.
By the breath of your mouth pulverized Cheerio dust is no more,
at the touch of your hand, meltdowns cease.

Do not let crayons cause me anguish
or a multitude of crayons test my fortitude.
Fill my bottle with Windex and my cup with coffee;
cause my mug to overflow,
but only metaphorically.

You alone, O Lord, can still the winds and the waves,
Yet even the tempest holds no candle to the fury of a toddler;
The sea scatters before the logic of a four year old,
Thunder is a chime in comparison to the clamor of a teething infant.

Nevertheless, I trust in you, O Lord.
Though you deliver my life unto artificial cheese and protestations,
Though you submit my soul to naplessness,
and my body to ten thousand head colds,
Though you refine my heart in the fires of hyperactivity
and blind my loved ones to the desperation of my plight,
Yet I will bless your name in the house of the diapered,
I will sing your praises from the laundry pit.

She's a Texan stay-at-home mom of three who listens to heavy metal and likes black licorice. She's baking, piano-playing poet who loves fantasy literature, Star Trek, and will slay you at Scrabble. But even as she's changing diapers, sweeping up Cheerios, and cleaning peanut butter off the cat, Jennifer is thinking about writing. Whether she's crafting her next humorous parenting anecdote, composing a new song, or contemplating a profound theological concept, 87.42% of Jennifer's writing is done in her head.
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