Drowning in Tech

The earth is still shaking from the last tremor,
A reminder that at any moment
the yawning chasm may reopen,
and swallow us all whole.

I do my best to shield our children
from the waves bursting angrily
lapping at their toes, and the sun blazing
down on their tiny innocent heads.

A scurry of confusion as they rush
headlong all hungry and weary from our trip.
But the first meal you make will not be for them,
will it my love?

When I have settled them to sleep,
my mothering guard finally dropped
I long for a conversation
or a kiss... but will find neither.

I have not the strength to fight with you
nor pull you out of constant preoccupation,
this self-feeding cocoon of stress
in which you disappear.

Don't you see that your son
is trying desperately to gain your attention?
Can't you tell that his acting out
is a cry of "notice me daddy?"

When everything he does is to seek your attention
And he is spurned at every moment.
You are breaking him, and watching that is breaking me.
And I can not continue to witness it.

I will find a lifeline,
and I will pull my children to safety,
and because you can't save yourself,
you will continue drowning in tech.

Jennifer D. Behnke - August 28, 2013