Let them twiddle, mama
All that pinching, pulling, rolling, rocking
All the skin grabs, the nipple cripples, hair pulls and slaps
All the nursing-related pushing and pulling
The standing on your lap, arm, stomach
The fringe grabbing, skin wrinkling, make up mussing
Every last touch, whether you know it or not,
Is your baby telling you you matter
That you are loved
That you exist when all else fades away
That you are the centre of their world.
Don't push them away, divert them to an object
If you can grit your teeth and breathe,
Those slaps will turn to strokes, those pinches to pats
That mouth won't bite, it'll say "I yuh you, mama"
And your heart will melt
You'll fall deeper in love
And it'll all have been worth it.