Friday, November 04, 2011

having it all


Fact: Life has been busy.

As it will always seem to be during the school year and more acutely felt as we get closer to the holiday season. I've been feeling very overwhelmed with wanting to do a good job with my maternity leave position and potentially garnering another one. I want to get my finances in order and put more into savings, pay off debt, etc. I want to spend quality time with my family. I want to be alone and make art. I want my house to not always look like a tornado hit it. I am pulled into so many directions that I'm noticing more and more that I've been a complete grump to be around. Or worse. The "N" word has been mentioned before. "Why can't you just be a chill wife?"

This issue has been on my mind a lot recently. It's like a dark cloud of resentment and jealousy that follows me around. It clouds my view of my husband, who works very hard and does a wonderful job being with Ellie in the mornings and for bedtime most evenings. All I can see is how unfair the circumstances are. Me always picking up, organizing the next day's meals, worrying about the next day's lessons, passing out cold by 9:30 pm. No time for reading a book, sketching, a day trip to the city alone, sex even. I fully understand why my mother frowns in her sleep, and I've noticed horizontal creases in my forehead in the morning, my jaw stiff and clenched. It is my destiny.

Why is it easier for him to take time off, spend a whole day doing something he loves? Is it simply he has no guilt, no worry about meals or groceries or laundry and when to pick up Ellie from the sitter? Why should I fight so much to have 2 hours a week to myself and then fritter that time away by being angry at myself for not being able to fully enjoy it? Why does there have to still be that double standard? I want to be supportive of A and his work and his time spent working and his time spent taking care of Ellie. I want him to have that time to himself too. I know that is important to him. But why does it seem harder for me to get that time? Why am I not fighting harder to get it? Why isn't he more supportive of my time, my work outside and inside the house? Am I just imagining it all?!

Nobody ever said being a feminist was easy. Let alone a feminist mother.

Bah humbug.

Speaking of which, damn you, Target and your Christmas displays up on Halloween. One frigging holiday at a time!

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Summer's End

So it would seem, after a few months, that I suddenly remember that I have a blog. And that I haven't updated or posted said blog in a while. I think to myself, "What can I write about? Isn't it enough to just have pictures of an adorable (and extremely vocal) toddler? What? No, you say?! Fine then, I'll talk about my boring self, whoever that may be." Most of the time I'm prompted to post because I just emptied pictures from the camera to the computer and I need some place to put them and gloat.


We had a lovely unruly summer. We let our hair grow wild. We visited swimming holes on a daily basis. We ate a lot of strawberries and Goldfish. Not to mention sun gold tomatoes from the garden, which covered our chins with seeds. We got brown and displayed awesome flip flop tan lines. We (us grownups) worried about money (as usual) and jobs (as usual) but we did our best to enjoy each other.









Now it is fall and I get excited to put on sweaters! Leggings! The slow cooker has been dragged from the depths of the cabinets and put to use on a pot roast and soon, a roast chicken. And best so far, is the job I garnered last minute. (Though not the waking at 5:20 am. How soon we forget those early risings!) I'm covering a maternity leave position until January teaching HS Photography and Media Arts. It has been overwhelming, exhausting but extremely exciting, planning lessons, being in a classroom consistently and teaching art no less! Blessedly, there is also the paychecks, that while starting meager, will gain and make my financial woes decidedly smaller for the time being. It's the best one can ask for it this economy.

We did not get swept away in the vast floods of our area, but we've observed our neighborly farms and communities struggle to pick up and begin again after all that rushing water subsided. A few weeks of driving detours and small weekly farm shares have been the most of our inconveniences, but many were not so lucky. Our CSA was one of the few to not completely lose their crops, though it looks like our fall harvest might be kaput. Most farms in the area lost everything. Water stood standing in the fields for days meaning crops were left to rot, not to mention the crucial top soil that was initially washed away. There were pumpkins floating down the Rondout for hours the day of the storm. Fall harvests will be pretty meager which also means it'll be a tough winter. Lesson learned: Never mess with Mother Nature.

Check here for events coming up to aid those farms and growers in need.
Here is also Brook Farm Project's fundraiser.


Wednesday, July 13, 2011

A Treatise on Traveling with Toddler

Our private beach

Yes, folks, we went on a family vacation trip. Finally. I realized I haven't been away on vacation since before Elinor was born. We contemplated Maine and camping, but realized that the drive alone would've been the end of us, never mind sharing a 2 person tent with a snoring, tossing child who has a tendency to wake up with a loaded diaper. That sort of trip may be a few years down the road instead. But I really had my heart set on the beach though, so we settled on Cape Cod. We found a place in North Truro (far up the Cape, basically the wrist) with a kitchen so we could make breakfast and lunch and save a bit of money. It was beautifully set right on the bay with a view of Provincetown. The tide came in right to the steps of the private beach. Perfect and relaxing. Even Andrew had to admit to this.

Nudist beach?

We saw seals here.

Ellie had a taste of the bayside beach and then the next day, the ocean beach. The happy fish in the water of last summer seems to have disappeared as she clung to our necks, screaming bloody murder as we waded into the water. It was pretty cold though so that might have something to do with it...

Hehe, hey Ma, how come you and Daddy are turning red?

Gosh, this sand is EVERYWHERE!

Sand occupied us for a time as did throwing rocks into the water. We saw seals, sailboats, seashells, and a Sienese inspired monument. My roommate from Siena flew out for the day from Boston to visit. It was such a treat and so nice to fall back into our usual banter despite 9 years. We met her again in Boston to visit the Aquarium there. Ellie was fascinated with the main tank full of tropical fish, sting rays, sea turtles and sharks. We adults were too.


Hold on, Dada so Tower baby can't fall off tower!

Summer has been quiet so far, but moving quickly. I've been trying to adjust Ellie to a more relaxed and later bedtime routine in the hopes of getting her to sleep in a bit more. Somedays it works. I feel like I shouldn't advertise it much but since traveling with Elinor and being home with her more, I can't help but admire how easy going she is. Sure, there are those days where nothing seems to entertain her for more than 5 minutes or she'll eat nothing but blueberries or strawberries. I'm amazed at her ability to be excited by anything, seeing it for the first time or not. Her joy knows no limits. Just watching her observe her world is captivating and inspiring. She is so open and friendly, waves at people now unprompted, sometimes even blows kisses. Half our time spent at the playground is watching the other kids play while perched halfway up the ladder.

I love, love, love, love strawberries! Yum! Hey wait! Where did they all go?!

Having a toddler gives you reason to remember what you loved to do when you were a child. It gives you reason to take delight in your senses, your body, in life.


Monday, May 09, 2011

Haiku for mothers (day)


curled in the darkness
my pulse as a lullaby
little room, first home
----
your eyes and mine meet
gentle tugging at my heart
your breath at my breast
----
----
your hand reaches out
i take hold. steady, baby
you step, i let go
----

Sunday, April 17, 2011

30 is the new black.

Yesterday would've been my grandmother's birthday. She would've been 77. I named her "Lala" when I was little. I was the first grandchild and she was 47 when I was born. Obviously "Grandma" didn't seem to fit her. My own mother had the same issues with being potentially called "grandma". Each of them certainly don't fit the old lady baking cookies and darning socks in the corner image. She said that if I called her "Grandmother Rosemary" I'd forget what I wanted to tell her in the first place because her name was so long. Lala used to sing to me, just nonsensical melodies..."la la la la". I picked her face out of a picture and called her "Lala" and it stuck.
In Savannah GA for my 18th birthday and Lala's 65th birthday

We were birthday buddies with our birthdays within days of each other. True Aries women. I loved going through her makeup and jewelry box. She was always so put together. She had shoes to match every outfit and a drawer full of purses and clutches. She loved to shop. I still to this day make my way first to the back of stores to the discount rack like she did, looking for a good deal. I have come to love wandering fabric stores and gaze at dish sets. The knitting gene skipped my mom and has wholeheartedly invested in me. She loved Hershey's Kisses. I still have a dress she made for me when I was 14. She is still such a vivid force in my life.

This birthday is obviously a milestone. Normally birthday are just a fun excuse to indulge myself. "Age is just a number" so they say, and I believe this. Until this year. And it didn't really start to sink in until about a week ago. Like wow. I'm talking about really mulling over the big stuff. Mortality. What is my life's purpose? Am I living an authentic life? A seemingly spiritual upheaval. Up to this point I believed I'd have my life figured out by 30 and it would appear that I do. But do I? I feel more like I'm pretending to be an adult, and sometimes even not doing that well. Maybe that's what growing up is like. A series of realizations that reconfigure your relationship to the past and the future, realigning your priorities.


Tomorrow will probably be like most Mondays. A day spent with Elinor, hopefully a walk outside if it's nice. A nice dinner with Andrew at a favorite restaurant. Simple. It's not about me anymore but about everyone in my life. You make me who am I, you are my gifts.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Charitable events and free print giveaway!


I'm sure over the past two weeks you've been aware of the horrific events in Japan between the earthquake, tsunami and nuclear reactor. Likewise, the events in Africa and the Middle East are hard to ignore for all the constant push and pull of forces. Like many I didn't just want to stand back and be just an observer.

I opened up petiteami again for the purpose of raising money for Doctors without Borders. This organization "provides aid in nearly 60 countries to people whose survival is threatened by violence, neglect, or catastrophe, primarily due to armed conflict, epidemics, malnutrition, exclusion from heath care, or natural disasters....[DWB] provides independent, impartial assistance to those most in need."
Therefore for the month of April (birthday month!) 50% of the sales from the shop will be donated to this cause.

In addition, I'd like to give away a 8x 10" print from the shop-your choice! First, "like" us over on Facebook, if you haven't already. Next, leave a comment about how you celebrated or plan on celebrating your 30th birthday. (Don't forget to leave your email address so I can get in touch with you)! I'll close the comments on Monday, April 18th @ midnight EST and consult the random number generator. Good luck!

Tuesday, March 08, 2011

This is what a Feminist Mother looks like.


In honor of International Women's Day, I found these questions via bluemilk. Thought it would be some food for thought.


How would you describe your feminism in one sentence? When did you become a feminist? Was it before or after you became a mother?

It's a bit cliched but the saying "the personal is political" has always rung true for me. I've considered myself a feminist since I was 15 or 16. I never truly thought about the context of feminism within mothering until I was pregnant. Or when I did it was a pretty idealized, all encompassing Earth Mother. It only is in very rare moments.

What has surprised you most about motherhood?

How epic it is, how simple, how complicated, how overwhelming it is. It forces me to put a halt in the constant "me-me-me" thoughts, even if just for a little. I'm still routinely walloped over how much I love this little person.

How has your feminism changed over time? What is the impact of motherhood on your feminism?

I feel only a year into being a mother has only shown me that my feminism must evolve if I am to stay a feminist mother. I'm in a constant battle in my head over theoretical arguments and practical applications. If anything it confirms or challenges my beliefs on a day to day basis. It informs my decisions because I'll see it also in a larger context.

What makes your mothering feminist? How does your approach differ from a non-feminist mother’s? How does feminism impact upon your parenting?

I believe my mothering is feminist because I choose to listen to my instinct and to what Elinor needs, as opposed to all the advice books and websites. I'll admit to looking and reading a fair bit but I always end up back to my original plan which I came upon on my own. In the beginning of Elinor's life, I was adamant about not putting her in pink, keeping her clothes as colorful but as gender neutral as possible. I want to encourage the development of her as a person first.

I feel like non-feminist mothers are concerned more about appearances, both the child's and their own as a mother who is in control and falls into that 50's ideal. I'll admit to sometimes feeling caught up in a bit of mommy competition. That's the worst part. Since having a baby, I want to reach out to anyone I know having a baby because it really does matter having other people around who know what you're going through and won't judge you.

Do you ever feel compromised as a feminist mother? Do you ever feel you’ve failed as a feminist mother?

I have my personal issues to work out, my moods, my thinking pattern rut that ends up clouding anything and everything. I think, "I don't want Elinor to know this" because I know her very observation of the way I react to things will affect her ability to cope, just as mine did of my mother. I get caught up in a very helpless position that is counter to any feminist. I want to be a strong capable female figure for my daughter and for any future child of mine, male or female. If I don't have the tools to help myself, how can possibly teach them to take care of themselves?

Has identifying as a feminist mother ever been difficult? Why?

I'm not afraid of identifying myself as a feminist mother. (I wouldn't be answering these questions, if I didn't think so). I think it's still a volatile environment for feminists and mothers. For many people, "feminist" is a bad word. Even certain celebrities, role models who follow a feminist mindset are wary to identify themselves as such. Never mind that being a mother is still this Madonna/whore, good/bad, supermom/welfare queen argument. I think the problem stems more from the fact that male roles have not evolved to the extent that female roles have. Women can be mothers, CEOs, politicians, and astronauts, but men still feel and act upon a huge obligation to "provide" for the family. A stay at home dad is still viewed in mainstream society as emasculated. It's the very act of child rearing, domestic management that remains undervalued, no matter who does the brunt of the work.

Motherhood involves sacrifice, how do you reconcile that with being a feminist?

The trouble is I haven't really reconciled this. I still gripe about how my body has been altered, how I'll resent sometimes that I am usually the go-to comforter, the bedtime/naptime soother because of the sheer convenience of boobs. We'll argue about the reality-him: a steady full-time job=less time, me: a flexible part-time job=more time, but I can't help but feel that the larger load of responsibilities would always go to me even if I did have a full time job.

Because that sacrifice has included so far my time to paint and create (what makes me feel connected and whole). Maybe that's not really feminism, but it is akin to forsaking what makes you a person in the first place. Why can't mothers be people too? Why are we so often just mothers? And why is that not good enough?

If you have a partner, how does your partner feel about your feminist motherhood? What is the impact of your feminism on your partner?

This is kind of a touchy subject. Though I know that my partner is ultimately incredibly supportive in his efforts, he has a way of making me feel that everything I ever learned about feminism is a lost cause. There are times where I think, how did I, one class shy of a women's studies minor, ever marry someone like this? But this is good because I might otherwise take for granted my feminist ways. He keeps me fighting the good fight.

If you’re an attachment parenting mother, what challenges if any does this pose for your feminism and how have you resolved them?

I didn't really realize we were practicing attachment parenting until Elinor was a few weeks old. I realized that all the things we did: co-sleeping, baby wearing, breast feeding on demand, were just naturally adapted into our lifestyle. I've enjoyed attachment parenting for the most part. I live in an area where it feels like attachment parenting is the norm which is great, there's lots of support. I don't feel like a freak when I talk about co-sleeping issues.

However, there is the feeling sometimes around here of being an all or nothing attachment parent. I think I struggled a lot with co-sleeping or breastfeeding because I so wanted to commit to it even when it wasn't easy. I had to prove (to really no one but myself) that I could hack this, and there was a lot of self-imposed guilt when I didn't pump enough or when I really wanted Elinor to finally sleep in her own room. Attachment parenting felt like feminism sometimes, and sometimes it just felt like way more work than other moms I knew were putting in.
It's still a work in progress.

Do you feel feminism has failed mothers and if so how? Personally, what do you think feminism has given mothers?

I don't think feminism has failed mothers. Rather it has saved many and given them voices. We wouldn't have the home birth movement, breast feeding initiatives, post partum depression support networks, and health care reform to name a few. It think feminism is still pretty active in society and most just don't recognize it as such. I haven't given up on it!