The Good Mother
The Female Paradox
I finally recognized I have “opposing” definitions of a woman. Two iconic images living in my head but not allowed to coexist. The icon of successful working woman embodies respect and power and legitimization. It took us a long time to find our way into the world of (almost) equal employment. And the icon of quintessential Mom who, as little girls, we pretend to be with the help of our dollies. The Mom is the fulfillment of our biological destiny and the unspoken expectation that looms over us and our hormones. I aspired to these...
read moreMy Brown Thumb
For years, I dreamed of a patch of dirt to lovingly cultivate my garden in. I exclaimed that was the reason I wanted to own a house. “Be careful what you wish for” doesn’t begin to sum up the torture I’ve endured for the sake of the dirt that accompanied the house I bought nine years ago. As I now dig in this soil, a parade of ghost plants taunts me and whispers “bad plant mommy.” My guilt piles up with the little plant bodies, tossed over the garden wall in a heap to decompose. My brown thumb is well-earned. In springtime, like many, I have...
read moreBaby Gambling
I have a joke about my dining room chairs. I say they took me four naps to re-glue and paint. Although that was seven years ago and they just need to get thrown in the dumpster now. The point was that, when you have a baby, you have to dare to grab the moment and act as if it’ll last. I call it baby gambling. Act as if. Carpe diem. With baby Eamon, I was so anxious he wouldn’t stay asleep that I didn’t risk starting anything. Honestly, I grabbed a smoke break or I cleaned something, never letting my creative inner gal have a play-date...
read moreInclusion
We were planning to attend a party on a Saturday afternoon. I remembered from a previous year, and a previous weekend, that my son had been the littlest guy there and the monkey in the middle. Wanting to be of “help”, I said that I too felt like an outsider in groups sometimes and secretly wanted to be included. I said, “Lets think of ways that we can make a choice or do something to help ourselves”. And we did. Eamon went right in for the bold approach. He said he could just go right up and say, “Can I play with you?” Of course, why...
read moreThe Many Faces of Fiona
What can you really say to express the wonder and amazement that is a new person. Eight years ago, my friend Terry gave me a little framed saying, “Babies are a nice way to start people”. They are made from nothingness and suddenly they’re living with you, confounding your daily existence with their needs absolutely. And you’re sold. The little jokes and running silly baby names and games are what we love to create and I thought to give you a peek into my loony entertainment at Fiona’s expense. This is the attack chair. Also...
read moreOopsie Daisy Mommy
On the celebratory day of Fiona being 3 months old, it’s time to come on out and tell you that I am less than Super Mommy. I know you’ll understand dear reader. And now I’m gonna out myself. I just can’t stand it when someone is right about me being wrong. Especially when it comes to my parenting mistakes. A shiver of discontent passes through me even thinking about this. I went to the pediatrician’s office when Fiona was maybe three weeks, I can’t remember now. And the nice lady doctor was thoroughly checking out Fiona from top...
read moreThis Provincial Life
I absolutely love the opening scene from the animated Beauty and the Beast movie. Belle is walking obliviously through her village with a book and they’re singing the song about her and she’s annoyed by “This provincial life”. The song is entitled Belle and was nominated for an Academy award for best original song. I adore the movie but that song is my favorite. When I moved to this small town in rural America, I didn’t realize I too would be living a ‘Provincial life’. Provincial is defined as ...
read moreFiona’s Coming Out Party
We celebrated Fiona’s arrival last weekend with a few close friends. An opportunity to share her and entertain. I’d forgotten how much we enjoy throwing a party. And I wanted to prove that I still have it. Even with the wee Fi hanging off me, I managed to make most of the food ahead of time. And decorate enough to make myself happy. Terry, Fiona, and Me Mark and his Aunt Barbara Aunt Annette and Uncle Paul Eamon got some presents too while Fiona was a hot potato Fiona was the Belle of this Party Eamon read to little Carolina...
read moreLeche League Nazis
She was like impending doom watching me from the other side of the room. One of many of the parade members. They were all just letting themselves in. As hospital staff, they all have a purpose there. But something about her wolflike stare creeped me out. She had a true purpose. And it was breastfeeding. The hospital has two fulltime gals for the specific purpose of coaching, training, and assisting with the new mothers with their breastfeeding “plan”. This isn’t just a job for them, they’re missionaries. Their belief is a altruistic. That...
read moreHope
We celebrated Fiona’s miraculous presence in our lives with a meet the baby party yesterday. She’s two months old. I had written a poem in honor of what it is she gifts the world and those who come in contact with her supreme cuteness and innocence. It’s called Hope. I could be dulled By my daily routine. In the trenches Left boob, right boob, Change poopy, cat nap, Rinse and repeat. I forget about our need Until I look into your eyes. The most important need. The one babies fulfill. In...
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