Jesse Ahee's painting exhibit: 'With Child', featuring works of her daughter during pregnancy, has been extended another full month at Gifford Medical Center in Randolph. Go check it out if you can!
If you can't make it to Randolph, it will also be exhibited in Montpelier at Cheshire Cat for the Art Walk on September 29.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Articles and Posts of Note:Mothers Movement Online
Mothers Movement Online Articles
Birth, Choices:Melissa Wilkins
An excellent article on demedicalizing the birth process.
Reviving the Feminine Mystique: Judith Stadtman-Tucker
Just a quick thought: It occurs to me that Betty Friedan's quote in 1985 (featured in the Stadtman-Tucker article) is purely right-on. I don't know if we will ever see something like the original Women's Movement or Civil Rights Movement again in our lives. This country would probably fall first before any of that happens.
Birth, Choices:Melissa Wilkins
An excellent article on demedicalizing the birth process.
Reviving the Feminine Mystique: Judith Stadtman-Tucker
Just a quick thought: It occurs to me that Betty Friedan's quote in 1985 (featured in the Stadtman-Tucker article) is purely right-on. I don't know if we will ever see something like the original Women's Movement or Civil Rights Movement again in our lives. This country would probably fall first before any of that happens.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Kind Words for Mama Says
Many thanks to Annie Downey for the kind words about Mama Says!
Check out where this Hot and Bothered author will be in the coming months for book signings and other events!
Check out where this Hot and Bothered author will be in the coming months for book signings and other events!
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Mama At the Movies: The Libertine
Mama At The Movies: One Non-Family Movie at A Time
“Enough of this Disney crap and singing chipmunks…I need some real movies!!!!”
The Libertine
I can’t remember the last time I actually saw a movie at the theatre. I think it may have been The Last Samurai with Tom Cruise before he turned Christian Scientist wingnut. I thought that was an excellent movie despite him being in it.
So, last night I saw the movie The Libertine (after The Girl's bedtime, obviously) with the fabulous Johnny Depp. I picked it up on a whim only knowing that it was about John Wilmot, the 2nd Earl of Rochester and Samantha Morton (of Jane Eyre) was in it.
It was released in 2004, and I never heard a peep about it. I can understand why: the movie is dark, gritty, the Earl of Rochester is downright ugly and grotesque in every manner imaginable (‘You will not like me’), there is content in the movie that absolutely would not appeal to the mainstreamer: there are no gaudy, drawn out battle scenes; no predictable, formulaic plot and dialogue, no clear cut hero/heroine.
I have longed to see Johnny Depp in a role such as this.
A lot of people thought this movie ‘boring’, ‘slow’, ‘one of Depp’s worst performances, if not the worst’.
Here’s what Seattlep.i.’s Arts and Entertainment had to say about it:
Wilmot was cynical, that is what the entire character is built upon. In the beginning of the movie, Wilmot does in fact say: ‘You will not like me.’ This is not a likable character by far, as it was intended. I believe it was further intended to be grainy and murky as well as claustrophobic-it’s called building mood. Also, this period in history was muddy and dark-they were dealing with The Plague epidemic for a year or so, decidedly on a much smaller scale than in the 14th Century; King Charles II was on the throne, the Restoration movement was happening, of course religion was an issue.
As for ‘meditations of life and art all ring false’, I beg to differ. The fact that this writer would even consider saying this is not ‘a great date movie’ further proves the lack of judgment for seeing what this movie really is.
The scenes in which Wilmot was dying of ‘the pox’ were undeniably hideous, yet so well played out-you could not help but look. Depp was so absolutely feral in the role. Normally, when I watch a movie, I get distracted by what is going on behind the scenes. For instance, What was that actor thinking when kissing Hugh Grant? Grin and bear it, or what? Or, if there is a scene where it is raining, I think: they’re using a hose for that aren’t they? Another one that comes up, usually during a period movie battle scene, when there are hordes of men running full-speed to the other end of the field: What are they thinking as they are running and screaming?
I did not do this with The Libertine, but once, when I squealed out: Samantha Morton must be thinking: “I just kissed Johnny Depp, the sexiest man alive!!!” Other than that, I fell completely into the movie. A rarity considering I could ruin a perfectly good movie for someone else (or myself) with my backstage comments.
Call me weird, even snobbish, but I thought this was one of Depp’s better performances. This movie is definitely not for the faint of heart, and not for the mainstreamers. If you could not decipher the dialogue, or thought it ‘too talky’ and boring, then let me suggest the latest Rob Schneider movie, or perhaps Snakes On A Plane.
“Enough of this Disney crap and singing chipmunks…I need some real movies!!!!”
The Libertine
I can’t remember the last time I actually saw a movie at the theatre. I think it may have been The Last Samurai with Tom Cruise before he turned Christian Scientist wingnut. I thought that was an excellent movie despite him being in it.
So, last night I saw the movie The Libertine (after The Girl's bedtime, obviously) with the fabulous Johnny Depp. I picked it up on a whim only knowing that it was about John Wilmot, the 2nd Earl of Rochester and Samantha Morton (of Jane Eyre) was in it.
It was released in 2004, and I never heard a peep about it. I can understand why: the movie is dark, gritty, the Earl of Rochester is downright ugly and grotesque in every manner imaginable (‘You will not like me’), there is content in the movie that absolutely would not appeal to the mainstreamer: there are no gaudy, drawn out battle scenes; no predictable, formulaic plot and dialogue, no clear cut hero/heroine.
I have longed to see Johnny Depp in a role such as this.
A lot of people thought this movie ‘boring’, ‘slow’, ‘one of Depp’s worst performances, if not the worst’.
Here’s what Seattlep.i.’s Arts and Entertainment had to say about it:
“Depp has a flash or two of charisma, but this may be his all-time worst performance. He can't convey anything going on in the character's mind beyond cynicism, his meditations on life and art all ring false, and there's just nothing to like about the guy.
Visually, the film is unpleasantly murky and claustrophobic, and its historical texture is thin. Like too many stage adaptations, the script is unnecessarily talky, and the first-time direction of Laurence Dunmore is flat and weak.
Despite its title, the movie could hardly be less erotic. Indeed, promiscuity has never looked more totally unappealing, and its final scenes of Wilmot's advanced venereal disease are enough to make you take a vow of celibacy. A great date movie, this is not.”
Wilmot was cynical, that is what the entire character is built upon. In the beginning of the movie, Wilmot does in fact say: ‘You will not like me.’ This is not a likable character by far, as it was intended. I believe it was further intended to be grainy and murky as well as claustrophobic-it’s called building mood. Also, this period in history was muddy and dark-they were dealing with The Plague epidemic for a year or so, decidedly on a much smaller scale than in the 14th Century; King Charles II was on the throne, the Restoration movement was happening, of course religion was an issue.
As for ‘meditations of life and art all ring false’, I beg to differ. The fact that this writer would even consider saying this is not ‘a great date movie’ further proves the lack of judgment for seeing what this movie really is.
The scenes in which Wilmot was dying of ‘the pox’ were undeniably hideous, yet so well played out-you could not help but look. Depp was so absolutely feral in the role. Normally, when I watch a movie, I get distracted by what is going on behind the scenes. For instance, What was that actor thinking when kissing Hugh Grant? Grin and bear it, or what? Or, if there is a scene where it is raining, I think: they’re using a hose for that aren’t they? Another one that comes up, usually during a period movie battle scene, when there are hordes of men running full-speed to the other end of the field: What are they thinking as they are running and screaming?
I did not do this with The Libertine, but once, when I squealed out: Samantha Morton must be thinking: “I just kissed Johnny Depp, the sexiest man alive!!!” Other than that, I fell completely into the movie. A rarity considering I could ruin a perfectly good movie for someone else (or myself) with my backstage comments.
Call me weird, even snobbish, but I thought this was one of Depp’s better performances. This movie is definitely not for the faint of heart, and not for the mainstreamers. If you could not decipher the dialogue, or thought it ‘too talky’ and boring, then let me suggest the latest Rob Schneider movie, or perhaps Snakes On A Plane.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Articles and Posts of Note: Yahoo! Post-Partum Depression in Dads?
Uh, yeah...I don't know quite what to think of this one. Post-Partum Depression in men that are Dads?
This is just a guess, but I think-hmmm-yes, I think it may have something to do with hormones, actually.
(Really??? No.....)
Is it any surprise, too, that both of the people they have chosen to quote are both men?
Here are some snippets:
If they forget to remember?
Alright, I don't doubt men feel alone, neglected, ostracized, ignored, and -dare I say it-sexually starved.
The attention has shifted. The roles of Motherhood and Fatherhood are, indeed, different and difficult at times. In some cultures, the father isn't even involved until after the child is weaned.
I also don't doubt that the father feels and experiences some sort of depression after a baby is born. It is a huge change. But I wouldn't call it postpartum depression.
This is just a guess, but I think-hmmm-yes, I think it may have something to do with hormones, actually.
(Really??? No.....)
Is it any surprise, too, that both of the people they have chosen to quote are both men?
Here are some snippets:
Fathers usually feel elation after a birth, Coleman said, but that feeling of "engrossment" can fade away, depending on family circumstances.
That can happen "if the mother is very, very controlling and wants the baby all to herself," Coleman said. "Also, fathers can experience frustration, sexual and emotional, if they forget to remember that the wife is not interested in sex at that time. If the wife is very motherly and maternal, he might feel kind of useless, on the periphery."
If they forget to remember?
Alright, I don't doubt men feel alone, neglected, ostracized, ignored, and -dare I say it-sexually starved.
The attention has shifted. The roles of Motherhood and Fatherhood are, indeed, different and difficult at times. In some cultures, the father isn't even involved until after the child is weaned.
I also don't doubt that the father feels and experiences some sort of depression after a baby is born. It is a huge change. But I wouldn't call it postpartum depression.
Articles and Posts of Note: Writing Time: Another Take on the Personal Essay
Writing Time is just a great site in itself. For all the (mama) writers out there, check out the Personal Essay post.
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Articles and Posts of Note: Yahoo! Co-sleeping
I found this article about co-sleeping on Yahoo! today.
Didn't the American Academy of Pediatrics (and Dentistry) at one point make a deal with Coca-cola to research funding a few years back? Whew. When I first read this, my immediate reaction was: How Ironic.
Why is it that the media and all these certified 'organizations' tell us what is right for our children, and make us feel guilty if we are not following the guidelines?
Perhaps co-sleeping is right for some and not for others. I am all for the co-sleeping. It has seen me through alot of nursing nights when The Girl was just a wee babe and it enabled me to get some much needed sleep. She doesn't nurse much during the night these days and we still happily co-sleep.
Didn't the American Academy of Pediatrics (and Dentistry) at one point make a deal with Coca-cola to research funding a few years back? Whew. When I first read this, my immediate reaction was: How Ironic.
Why is it that the media and all these certified 'organizations' tell us what is right for our children, and make us feel guilty if we are not following the guidelines?
Perhaps co-sleeping is right for some and not for others. I am all for the co-sleeping. It has seen me through alot of nursing nights when The Girl was just a wee babe and it enabled me to get some much needed sleep. She doesn't nurse much during the night these days and we still happily co-sleep.
Poem: Loss, Without Regret
Now, a name
Among millions
She sits without regret.
Still, the dreams persist:
Of love, of loss and gain
Reclaiming the child
Only to give it up
Again and again.
Through all attempts
The wound
Already a year and a half old,
Has refused to heal.
She sits through all attempts
Without regrets
Reclaiming the child
Of love and loss
Already a year and a half old
Only to give it up again and again
As the dreams persist.
Among millions
She sits without regret.
Still, the dreams persist:
Of love, of loss and gain
Reclaiming the child
Only to give it up
Again and again.
Through all attempts
The wound
Already a year and a half old,
Has refused to heal.
She sits through all attempts
Without regrets
Reclaiming the child
Of love and loss
Already a year and a half old
Only to give it up again and again
As the dreams persist.
Posts and Articles of Note: Sam Kolber's 'Jewel Tones'
Perhaps this is a little bit of shameless promotion, but check out Sam's pantoum, Jewel Tones. It's rhythmic-trancy and just well-written. I love it. I am jealous. I could never turn out a strict form poem so well. I suppose that will be a challenge to face. Try writing one and see how it goes. Sam gives an outline of the form on her site.
Friday, August 11, 2006
Savory Bites
From Sam’s previous post:
I bet I will go ahead and shower, but not before eating chocolate for breakfast. Sure, I could eat yogurt, a bagel, cereal, or a banana for a more healthy breakfast, but those don’t seem to fill my need, or stuff it down is more like it.
This inspired me to write a little something on FOOD.
It feels like I don’t have time to enjoy my breakfast or snack, double Latte, or even a plain old cup of black strong coffee.
Nothing tastes good to me anymore.
While The Girl is eating dinner (sweet potatoes tonight), I’m writing (as I am now), or doing some dishes (hey- I said some), or putting a weeks (or so) worth of laundry away finally.
My snacks are less than tasty, sometimes, and can end up being my dinner (i.e. Chocolate or cookies, a single banana or spaghetti for the third day in a row), or ‘well, at least I ate something.’ That last one appears quite often.
And coffee-oh coffee. I down so much of this stuff, I don’t even feel the buzz anymore. I should be bouncing off the goddamn walls. This could account for my sleep problem of late, eh? Part of it, anyway…
Everything is just so on-the-go these days. Even as we sit down to a meal: I scarf down whatever it is we are eating without even a thought of really enjoying the food; I’m too busy seeing if The Girl needs anything, or picking up food she dropped, or the spoon she threw, or whatever. We are always moving, moving, moving: to the library, going on our walk, doctor’s appointments, and errands. So much to do all the time. Much of society is like this, to put it in a broader perspective, always moving.
How did this happen?
How did I stop enjoying the taste of food? How did I stop taking pleasure in every bite? How did it get to the point of ‘at least I ate something today’?
I don’t know. Perhaps we all just need to stop, slow down and breathe once in awhile.
Life moves pretty fast, if you don’t stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it.
Hey-most of us know where this is from…
Ferris Beuller’s Day Off
Sort of a long, terribly rambly kind of post….oh well.
I bet I will go ahead and shower, but not before eating chocolate for breakfast. Sure, I could eat yogurt, a bagel, cereal, or a banana for a more healthy breakfast, but those don’t seem to fill my need, or stuff it down is more like it.
This inspired me to write a little something on FOOD.
It feels like I don’t have time to enjoy my breakfast or snack, double Latte, or even a plain old cup of black strong coffee.
Nothing tastes good to me anymore.
While The Girl is eating dinner (sweet potatoes tonight), I’m writing (as I am now), or doing some dishes (hey- I said some), or putting a weeks (or so) worth of laundry away finally.
My snacks are less than tasty, sometimes, and can end up being my dinner (i.e. Chocolate or cookies, a single banana or spaghetti for the third day in a row), or ‘well, at least I ate something.’ That last one appears quite often.
And coffee-oh coffee. I down so much of this stuff, I don’t even feel the buzz anymore. I should be bouncing off the goddamn walls. This could account for my sleep problem of late, eh? Part of it, anyway…
Everything is just so on-the-go these days. Even as we sit down to a meal: I scarf down whatever it is we are eating without even a thought of really enjoying the food; I’m too busy seeing if The Girl needs anything, or picking up food she dropped, or the spoon she threw, or whatever. We are always moving, moving, moving: to the library, going on our walk, doctor’s appointments, and errands. So much to do all the time. Much of society is like this, to put it in a broader perspective, always moving.
How did this happen?
How did I stop enjoying the taste of food? How did I stop taking pleasure in every bite? How did it get to the point of ‘at least I ate something today’?
I don’t know. Perhaps we all just need to stop, slow down and breathe once in awhile.
Life moves pretty fast, if you don’t stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it.
Hey-most of us know where this is from…
Ferris Beuller’s Day Off
Sort of a long, terribly rambly kind of post….oh well.
Excerpt from Sam's Computer Journal
25 July 2006
“Everything is purple. Why everything that is purple is purple through these glasses?” Emmett says as he wears fuchsia-colored batgirl glasses. Now he is whining about putting on a movie for him, and I don’t know why I haven’t been enjoying my motherhood role lately. I really haven’t been enjoying anything lately. And his incessant whining and power struggles don’t help. All he wants to wear is pajamas, day in and day out, so when I say it’s time to get dressed in the morning, it becomes a huge power struggle between us because I just recently made a rule against wearing pajamas all day long, especially to day-care. Now that I am at the computer with my fingers running over the keyboard I don’t want to stop; it’s reminding me how much I need to write, I crave to write, even if I just write about nothing…even if Emmett is climbing onto my lap chanting about “Stop, Look and Listen,” a Blues Clues episode he wants me to put in the VCR. When I finally stop, look and listen to him, he looks me in the eyes, his steel, green eyes so focused, and asks in a sweet voice, “Can you please put Stop, Look and Listen on please?” How can I resist? Especially since I know it will buy me more time for myself. I usually shower as he watches a morning video, but now I want to write something. I bet instead, since I am not feeling any inspiration to write anything specific, I bet I will go ahead and shower, but not before eating chocolate for breakfast. Sure, I could eat yogurt, a bagel, cereal, or a banana for a more healthy breakfast, but those don’t seem to fill my need, or stuff it down is more like it. I am disappearing into the real world, my writer self at odds with my need for financial stability, survival, ability to provide for my child. I am so angry I can’t rely on my creativity to make any money. I know I can if I can focus, but I just can’t focus. I am overwhelmed, depressed, not good. According to Steve in Blues Clues, I just need to “sit down in my thinking chair and think, think thiiiink. “ Because I can do anything that I want to do. If only I knew what I wanted to do.
“Everything is purple. Why everything that is purple is purple through these glasses?” Emmett says as he wears fuchsia-colored batgirl glasses. Now he is whining about putting on a movie for him, and I don’t know why I haven’t been enjoying my motherhood role lately. I really haven’t been enjoying anything lately. And his incessant whining and power struggles don’t help. All he wants to wear is pajamas, day in and day out, so when I say it’s time to get dressed in the morning, it becomes a huge power struggle between us because I just recently made a rule against wearing pajamas all day long, especially to day-care. Now that I am at the computer with my fingers running over the keyboard I don’t want to stop; it’s reminding me how much I need to write, I crave to write, even if I just write about nothing…even if Emmett is climbing onto my lap chanting about “Stop, Look and Listen,” a Blues Clues episode he wants me to put in the VCR. When I finally stop, look and listen to him, he looks me in the eyes, his steel, green eyes so focused, and asks in a sweet voice, “Can you please put Stop, Look and Listen on please?” How can I resist? Especially since I know it will buy me more time for myself. I usually shower as he watches a morning video, but now I want to write something. I bet instead, since I am not feeling any inspiration to write anything specific, I bet I will go ahead and shower, but not before eating chocolate for breakfast. Sure, I could eat yogurt, a bagel, cereal, or a banana for a more healthy breakfast, but those don’t seem to fill my need, or stuff it down is more like it. I am disappearing into the real world, my writer self at odds with my need for financial stability, survival, ability to provide for my child. I am so angry I can’t rely on my creativity to make any money. I know I can if I can focus, but I just can’t focus. I am overwhelmed, depressed, not good. According to Steve in Blues Clues, I just need to “sit down in my thinking chair and think, think thiiiink. “ Because I can do anything that I want to do. If only I knew what I wanted to do.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Changing Directions: On Writing/Journaling
You can also see this on The Whole Mom
(Preface: I know this is a long one, but please, take the time to read it)
I write regularly in my journal. I take that back-I used to write regularly in my journal. This past year, I have gone from being a faithful, detailed, everyday journal keeper to writing a sporadic, intermittent mix of half coherent fragments from the day. When I wrote on a regular basis, I could easily fill a two hundred page hard-bound journal within a month or less. These days, it takes me a disappointing four months to finish a book with the same amount of pages. In the new journal I recently started, I write half sentences, ideas that go nowhere, fragments of events that I wanted to record, all left hanging in mid-sentences.
These days, I find I put most of my journaling energy into the Mama Says blog. That, in a sense, has become my journal. However, I am not completely satisfied with this. I don’t want it to become my journal. A journal, to me, is something that is personal, a place where I can let it all out, stuff that I would never share with other mothers, let alone the world; a place where I can work through my crap ( definitely much cheaper than a psychiatrist!).
In this age of computer laptop journals, live journals and the blogosphere, I still prefer to draft things out with paper and pen. My handwriting is still decipherable, not yet reduced to chicken scratch. Besides that, I just love the feel of pen in hand. I don’t know why, but it seems I can put things together more efficiently that way. Plus, I’m a doodler. I like to scribble all over the page, cross out words and whole sentences, make squiggly arrows directing this sentence or paragraph to go all the way to the top (or bottom). After what seems to be sufficient doodling, I can go to the computer and make the final draft. I’ve always done that with poetry as well.
For me, journaling is a ritualistic process, I write out the drafts over and over, replacing this word here and that word there. There is a certain meditation in actual writing with pen and paper that cannot be found in banging out words on the computer. The blue-glow of the computer monitor can surely trance me out, but it’s just not the same.
I could say that most of my energy for journaling has been sapped by my two-year old running around the house. But it’s just not true. In fact, it’s just the opposite: she is my daily inspiration in many things, including writing. I turn out posts on a near-daily basis for the blog; some consisting of entire pages that could be turned into a possible articles. I just don’t have the interest for journaling right now. Never in my life did I think that would be an issue. Not me, the one with 40-plus full hard-bound journals and countless notebooks; the one who could never bear to skip a day, letting it go by unrecorded; the one who had to fill the page to capacity. Surely, I could never lose interest? I can’t even believe that’s what it’s come down to, but there it is.
These are the years of my daughter’s childhood. I feel I should be recording every little thing she does: new developments, what she’s feeling, how she reacted to the bug that dropped from the tree onto her sleeve. Will I look back on this time in my life and wish I had written more? Will I feel a certain sort of regret at what I didn’t record?
When I look back now on the journals from when I was pregnant with my daughter, I find myself wishing I had written a more detailed account of that experience; and I do feel something akin to regret at not writing more about it.
Perhaps I just need to accept the fact that it’s alright to not be interested in journaling at times. Right now there are plenty of other things in my life that require my attention. It’s not as if I won’t ever journal again. Perhaps it is the style of journaling familiar to me that is changing. Perhaps I am changing. Perhaps I just need to accept that as well. After all, life changes just as the wind changes directions.
(Preface: I know this is a long one, but please, take the time to read it)
I write regularly in my journal. I take that back-I used to write regularly in my journal. This past year, I have gone from being a faithful, detailed, everyday journal keeper to writing a sporadic, intermittent mix of half coherent fragments from the day. When I wrote on a regular basis, I could easily fill a two hundred page hard-bound journal within a month or less. These days, it takes me a disappointing four months to finish a book with the same amount of pages. In the new journal I recently started, I write half sentences, ideas that go nowhere, fragments of events that I wanted to record, all left hanging in mid-sentences.
These days, I find I put most of my journaling energy into the Mama Says blog. That, in a sense, has become my journal. However, I am not completely satisfied with this. I don’t want it to become my journal. A journal, to me, is something that is personal, a place where I can let it all out, stuff that I would never share with other mothers, let alone the world; a place where I can work through my crap ( definitely much cheaper than a psychiatrist!).
In this age of computer laptop journals, live journals and the blogosphere, I still prefer to draft things out with paper and pen. My handwriting is still decipherable, not yet reduced to chicken scratch. Besides that, I just love the feel of pen in hand. I don’t know why, but it seems I can put things together more efficiently that way. Plus, I’m a doodler. I like to scribble all over the page, cross out words and whole sentences, make squiggly arrows directing this sentence or paragraph to go all the way to the top (or bottom). After what seems to be sufficient doodling, I can go to the computer and make the final draft. I’ve always done that with poetry as well.
For me, journaling is a ritualistic process, I write out the drafts over and over, replacing this word here and that word there. There is a certain meditation in actual writing with pen and paper that cannot be found in banging out words on the computer. The blue-glow of the computer monitor can surely trance me out, but it’s just not the same.
I could say that most of my energy for journaling has been sapped by my two-year old running around the house. But it’s just not true. In fact, it’s just the opposite: she is my daily inspiration in many things, including writing. I turn out posts on a near-daily basis for the blog; some consisting of entire pages that could be turned into a possible articles. I just don’t have the interest for journaling right now. Never in my life did I think that would be an issue. Not me, the one with 40-plus full hard-bound journals and countless notebooks; the one who could never bear to skip a day, letting it go by unrecorded; the one who had to fill the page to capacity. Surely, I could never lose interest? I can’t even believe that’s what it’s come down to, but there it is.
These are the years of my daughter’s childhood. I feel I should be recording every little thing she does: new developments, what she’s feeling, how she reacted to the bug that dropped from the tree onto her sleeve. Will I look back on this time in my life and wish I had written more? Will I feel a certain sort of regret at what I didn’t record?
When I look back now on the journals from when I was pregnant with my daughter, I find myself wishing I had written a more detailed account of that experience; and I do feel something akin to regret at not writing more about it.
Perhaps I just need to accept the fact that it’s alright to not be interested in journaling at times. Right now there are plenty of other things in my life that require my attention. It’s not as if I won’t ever journal again. Perhaps it is the style of journaling familiar to me that is changing. Perhaps I am changing. Perhaps I just need to accept that as well. After all, life changes just as the wind changes directions.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
An Assortment of Posts
Mother's Movement Online Articles:
A Mommy With An Attitude:
Motherhood Uncensored:
'The Hardships of Being a Mom to a Special Needs Child' on the Whole Mom, Laura J.
From Shape of a Mother:
Mom-101:
Poet Tree (Sam Kolber):
False 45th:
Finslippy:
Yahoo!
Didn't the American Academy of Pediatrics (and Dentistry) at one point make a deal with Coca-cola to research funding a few years back? Whew. When I first read this, my immediate reaction was: How Ironic.
Why is it that the media and all these certified 'organizations' tell us what is right for our children, and make us feel guilty if we are not following the guidelines?
Perhaps co-sleeping is right for some and not for others. I am all for the co-sleeping. It has seen me through alot of nursing nights when The Girl was just a wee babe and it enabled me to get some much needed sleep. She doesn't nurse much during the night these days and we still happily co-sleep.
Uh, yeah...I don't know quite what to think of this one. Post-Partum Depression in men that are Dads?
This is just a guess, but I think-hmmm-yes, I think it may have something to do with hormones, actually.
(Really??? No.....)
Is it any surprise, too, that both of the people they have chosen to quote are both men?
Here are some snippets:
Fathers usually feel elation after a birth, Coleman said, but that feeling of "engrossment" can fade away, depending on family circumstances.
That can happen "if the mother is very, very controlling and wants the baby all to herself," Coleman said. "Also, fathers can experience frustration, sexual and emotional, if they forget to remember that the wife is not interested in sex at that time. If the wife is very motherly and maternal, he might feel kind of useless, on the periphery."
Depression in a father leads to a well-known pattern of behavior, Coleman said. "He tends to work longer, to watch sports more, to drink more and be solitary," he said.
If they forget to remember?
Alright, I don't doubt men feel alone, neglected, ostracized, ignored, and -dare I say it-sexually starved.
The attention has shifted. The roles of Motherhood and Fatherhood are, indeed, different and difficult at times. In some cultures, the father isn't even involved until after the child is weaned.
I also don't doubt that the father feels and experiences some sort of depression after a baby is born. It is a huge change. But I wouldn't call it postpartum depression.
Writing Time
- 'Time to Kiss the Mommy Wars Goodbye' -Tracy Thompson
- 'Everybody Hates Linda'-Judith Stadtman Tucker
A Mommy With An Attitude:
- 'What the Hell Is Caitlin Flanagan Talking About? The Good, The Bad, And The Baffling!'
Motherhood Uncensored:
- On The Whole Mom: Essay: Having It All
'The Hardships of Being a Mom to a Special Needs Child' on the Whole Mom, Laura J.
From Shape of a Mother:
Mom-101:
Poet Tree (Sam Kolber):
False 45th:
Finslippy:
Yahoo!
Didn't the American Academy of Pediatrics (and Dentistry) at one point make a deal with Coca-cola to research funding a few years back? Whew. When I first read this, my immediate reaction was: How Ironic.
Why is it that the media and all these certified 'organizations' tell us what is right for our children, and make us feel guilty if we are not following the guidelines?
Perhaps co-sleeping is right for some and not for others. I am all for the co-sleeping. It has seen me through alot of nursing nights when The Girl was just a wee babe and it enabled me to get some much needed sleep. She doesn't nurse much during the night these days and we still happily co-sleep.
Uh, yeah...I don't know quite what to think of this one. Post-Partum Depression in men that are Dads?
This is just a guess, but I think-hmmm-yes, I think it may have something to do with hormones, actually.
(Really??? No.....)
Is it any surprise, too, that both of the people they have chosen to quote are both men?
Here are some snippets:
Fathers usually feel elation after a birth, Coleman said, but that feeling of "engrossment" can fade away, depending on family circumstances.
That can happen "if the mother is very, very controlling and wants the baby all to herself," Coleman said. "Also, fathers can experience frustration, sexual and emotional, if they forget to remember that the wife is not interested in sex at that time. If the wife is very motherly and maternal, he might feel kind of useless, on the periphery."
Depression in a father leads to a well-known pattern of behavior, Coleman said. "He tends to work longer, to watch sports more, to drink more and be solitary," he said.
If they forget to remember?
Alright, I don't doubt men feel alone, neglected, ostracized, ignored, and -dare I say it-sexually starved.
The attention has shifted. The roles of Motherhood and Fatherhood are, indeed, different and difficult at times. In some cultures, the father isn't even involved until after the child is weaned.
I also don't doubt that the father feels and experiences some sort of depression after a baby is born. It is a huge change. But I wouldn't call it postpartum depression.
Writing Time