Wednesday, May 28, 2003
Eeenie, Meanie, Miney, ...
My blog-reading day began with this. Fortunately, I discovered this, which helped me stave off the impending diabetic coma. And this day just keeps getting better...I resonate completely with the owner of this blog who happens to be a 16 year old boy.
-Perfect- You're the perfect girlfriend. Which means you're rare or that you cheated :P You're the kind of chick that can hang out with your boyfriend's friends and be silly. You don't care about presents or about going to fancy placed. Hell, just hang out. You're just happy being around your boyfriend.
Memento Mori
Maybe it's the endless days of rain. Maybe it's that the dogs woke me up at 5am wimpering. Maybe it's that I'm staring down the barrel of a day populated by meetings and faxes and voicemails when what I want to be doing is just about anything else (popular suggestions: movies in bed, art in the city, writing, permitting myself to fall into the reality of a novel, leading playmates astray for the day). The point is, I'm three hours into my day and I still feel like this:
Do you think coffee will help???
Jennifer @ 8:12 AM link
Tuesday, May 27, 2003
Memorable Day
And another thing...
Monday, May 19, 2003
The Reason I Celebrate Mother's Day
My oldest daughter Jessica was born in June of 1987, a few days before my 27th birthday. Before she was born, I had read books on parenting, spoken to countless parents, pediatricians, and experts. Each had vast amounts of wisdom and information to impart about the dos and don’ts of parenting. Then Jessica was born. When I looked into her eyes, I knew that everything I ever needed to know about being her parent, I already knew, and if I ever encountered a moment of uncertainty, she would teach me.
We started small. A cry would mean that she was hungry, or tired, or that she wanted to be held. Sometimes people might think that her diaper needed changing, but I knew Jessica. She never cried for that. Later, she differentiated her cry in subtle ways so meeting her needs wasn’t a hit or miss proposition. We developed our own rhythm, an endless cycle of eat, sleep, play.
Gradually she grew, and with her, my ability to expand the realm of our experience. Was she hungry? That I could tell, but for what food? We agreed, despite her lack of language skills, that I would make available on a Jessye-sized table, an array of healthful foods. She could make her own decisions as to when an d what to eat. I treated her the way I liked to be treated. I trusted her to tell the truth. I expected her to make mistakes, but believed she would learn from them. I enjoyed the adventure of creating a safe environment in which she could explore her abilities. It was a fine line for both of us. It was my responsibility to keep her safe but not to limit her, cheer her on as she found her edges. Sometimes is was exhausting. She challenged me to find my boundaries too. How little sleep could I survive upon? How loving can I be as she spills the contents of her cup for the sixth time as she learns to drink like a “big girl”?
Having Jessica was the first thing I had ever done in my life that I consciously knew I could never undo. Even getting married could be undone. Having a child is a part of who I am for the rest of my life.
From Jessica I learned to trust myself. I learned to believe that inside me were all the answers I needed even when the answer was, “ask for help.” I learned from Jessica that it is possible to love someone exactly as they are in that moment; that just because they drool, smell like old mild, can’t talk, and don’t have teeth, doesn’t make them unlovable. I learned that making a commitment to being there can sometimes be something you do one hundred times in one day. I learned that the things I think about myself, about the world, about the people I love, are not secrets even when I don’t say them out loud. I learned that it’s okay to cry when you fall out of the highchair. I learned a lot about forgiveness, about patience, about acceptance, about humility, and about the healing power of naps.
Sunday, May 18, 2003
Better Things To Do
It's perfectly sunny today and I'm really feeling the stress of the things I should be doing. I had coffee outside with Deb this morning and put in some fine hammock time, but I can't take the pressure! So I snuck back into the cave of my house to aimlessly cruise weblogs, and one thing led to another. I feel better now that I 'fessed up, so I'll gather my strength and go fire up the grill to finish making the most of our one, sunny, warm day.
Jennifer @ 1:36 PM link
The idea of the May Day Project is to take a photo an hour (for at least 6 hours) in one day. This is my first photo of the day, taken around 8:30am. Click on it to see a selection of the 49 pictures I took (did I mention it was a busy day?).
Jennifer @ 8:10 PM link
Friday, May 09, 2003
The day that doesn't end
It may be that nothing actually does happen. Maybe we keep track of events, reliving and retelling them to assure ourselves that this is not just one long day over and over. There appear to be slight variations to the events only if one tries to play around with the story a bit. I'm not trying to get deep or anything, I'm just trying to come up with some logical explanation for everything that doesn't happen (can you tell I'm at work?).
Jennifer @ 4:00 PM link
Thursday, May 08, 2003
May Day
I just read about the May Day Project this afternoon and the timing is perfect. My brother Adam is marrying the fair Ingrid on May 10th so taking a picture an hour will be my idea of a great time.
Jennifer @ 5:11 PM link
