“You haven’t thought of harming yourself?” the nurse asked with furrowed brow as she reviewed my questionnaire.
“No,” I said, smiling. “I’m depressed now, but I’m not at risk. I understand what this is and why it is, so I don’t put much stock in it.”
“I wish it were like that with me,” she replied.
“It took me lots of time.”
There have been many days during this pregnancy that I have wanted to hide in darkness and emerge only for birth. Read more…
I grew up with few family traditions. My mom was mostly concerned with making sure my siblings and I were fed, didn’t get hit by cars, and returned home before darkfall. I get our lack of traditions and don’t regret it anymore.
I nevertheless strive to create new family traditions where I can. I’ve written about one here already: our nighttime thankfulness discussions.
Another important one is nighttime reading. Once in a rare while, we’ll skip this nightly tradition, but 360 or so nights a year, you’ll find us reading at least two bedtime stories together. This is all well and good when I’m not pregnant and exhausted by 3 p.m., but can lead to some troubles in current circumstances.
As I inadvertently doze off while reading, my son’s prodding brings me back to wakefulness. Read more…
I saw this picture en route to breakfast with my son yesterday.
MY FIRST THOUGHT:
Ugh. How terrible! I hope for her own self respect no “skinny chick” gets in this car, either. I wish I could do something about this.
MY SECOND THOUGHT:
I am doing something. I am raising a son to see bodies not for what they look like, but for what they:
- SEE: the stars, the sun, the ocean, smiles, beauty, sorrow, hope, and so much more
- HEAR: sighs, snores, whistles, loving words, words of inspiration, music, and so much more
- TASTE: bitter, sour, sweet, tangy, salty, spicy, and so much more
- SMELL: cinnamon, honey, flowers, baby’s breath, freshly mown grass, and so much more
- FEEL: wind, caresses, sand, sunlight, satin, and so much more
- DO: run, hike, swim, dance, draw, knit, bake, hug, kiss, and so much more
There is so much goodness in these bodies of ours, regardless of what they look like. It’s a shame to overlook the goodness already present within while instead striving for someone else’s unattainable ideal without.
That’s what I see when I look at this picture: A reminder that when someone sees bodies in terms only of “fat” or “skinny,” they’re missing the point.
Our bodies are our keys to experiencing this world. Their capacities are incredible.
We should strive to revel in them as long as we have them.
I "met" Chris through my Facebook page for my personal blog crazy dumbsaint of the mind and I in turn become a fan of her blog Adventures of a Thrifty Mama in the City 'Stead, and then later we got to know each other outside of blogging. For those who don't know how online friendships work, they might be confused when I call Chris my friend.
When my son was a newborn, he mostly cried, made messy diapers, and followed me incessantly with his eyes. I could see a beautiful light from within him even so, and looked forward to seeing who he would become.
His hands captivated me. At first he only held onto things–usually rattles–without showing any real interest in them. He was just building his baby muscles.
Later, his hands reached out to hold things he wanted and deliver them to his mouth. Scraps of paper, crayons, toys, power cords. You name it, he wanted it in his mouth, and knew how to get it there.
Soon enough, he began walking. He used his hands to pick up sticks and leaves, pet neighborhood cats, and best of all, hold my hand.
How I savored the feel of his tiny hand in mine!
Next came coloring, big loops and swirls he’d call airplanes, or monsters, or Mommy. Read more…
Thanksgiving was lovely, but an 1,800-mile round trip drive took its toll on my family.
I expect it will be a few days before we’re back into the swing of things here, with grumpiness levels closer to our individual norms. Read more…
Note: I do not mean to incite a witch hunt, nor any kind of hunt whatsoever. What inspires me to share this is not the desire to identify any particular perpetrator–for, indeed, many truly gentle men may fit the broad portrait below–but to enable readers to see, as I do, what can lie concealed behind certain carefully crafted kindnesses.
He is tall and thin, his demeanor studiously unobtrusive.
His attire is stereotypically professorial–almost comically so. He lives by tweed.
He is vocal about his vegetarianism. He does not, he tells you, want to take part in harming living creatures.
This gentle giant is great with your kids. He is so great with them, he wants to give you a little time off from watching them. He will take them to shows and parks, and show them funny movies while you, a single parent, get a chance to breathe.
He is a trusted family friend.
He builds trust slowly, careful not to do anything that might alert you to his ulterior motives. As he builds your trust, he starts showing a different side of himself to your kids.
He tells them they are beautiful-more beautiful, even, than you.
He tells them it would wound you deeply to know this, and makes it their secret.
When he is sure he had laid a solid foundation for silence, he touches them.
He tells them he will kill you if they tell.
I testified against him. Read more…