I'm a Mémé! Otherwise known as a grandmother 🙂 My baby girl had a baby girl on Sunday, September 11. Little Esther is absolutely beautiful, of course - she looks a lot like her mother did as an infant.
Both Momma and baby are healthy. I'm fortunate enough to be in Omaha with them for now, and I'm enjoying every minute of my time here. There's nothing else like the smell of a sweet, clean infant. It's definitely worth all the sleep loss.
We're getting lots of good singing and reading time together. I was very happy to be able to find Pamela Ballingham's Earth Mother Lullabies from Around the World series (volumes I, II, and III) on CD, as I nearly wore out the cassette versions playing them to Katie while carrying her and after she was born. They're a family tradition now!
One of the first books I bought for her? A is for Activist! She's also fond of Dream Animals: A Bedtime Journey. We're going to have to find a new copy of Jennifer's Rabbit, as Katie's copy has disappeared, and we're very fond of the illustrated version of Tom Paxton's marvelous song.
Plinky asked, “If you eventually break up with someone, was it ever true love?”
Divorce and Children
What sort of silly question is that? If a person dies, was he truly alive?
Yes, relationships based on true love sometimes end. That doesn’t mean that they are failures, any more than lives that end are failures. The “happily ever after” thing is for fairy tales, and the idea of “one true love” should stay there as well.
It’s clear that most people are only paying lip service to monogamy now by practicing serial monogamy, so I don’t see why these outdated ideas hang on to cause misery for so many.
I have been in many relationships. I have loved each of those people. I don’t consider any of those relationships failures, nor do I doubt that I loved those people simply because we are no longer together and don’t feel the same way about each other now. I feel some affection, at the very least, towards most of them, and more for some of them. That doesn’t bother me at all, as a polyamorous person. It doesn’t set up any sort of conflict. I’m not going to act on those feelings, because there were valid reasons for the end of each relationship — but where there was deep love, there’s always something left.
The most important promises you’ll ever make in this life are the ones you make to yourself. I’ve lost sight of that fact, and broken at least one of my promises to myself. I need to remind myself of a few of my promises to myself (these aren’t all of them, by any means).
- I won’t allow anyone to act abusively towards me. The rule of thumb is that I shouldn’t accept treatment that I wouldn’t want for my child.
- No partner is worth my self-esteem, so I won’t stay with a anyone who tears me down.
- Any partner who tries to come between me and my child is history.
- I deserve a partner who is faithful to me and our agreements in every sense of the word, and I won’t lower myself by staying with someone who breaks them. New addendum: Forgiveness for infidelity is (at most!) a one-time thing.
- My life task right now is to get healthier in every realm of my life, and I can’t afford to associate with anyone detrimental to my overall health.
What promises have you made to yourself? How well do you keep them?
Such a word that is, indicative of choices big and small. I’ve faced more change than choice in the past 30 days or so, thanks to a major relationship change. But there have been choices, and there will be yet more choices in the future — choices that I will be making alone, for the first time in many years.
Choice, reflected in that word, is the NaBloPoMo theme for March. And I’m making a change, by making a choice to return to blogging.
I’ve been journaling privately these past weeks as a spiritual practice and have found it rewarding. I’m not quite doing writer’s pages à la Julia Cameron, but perhaps I’ll return to that discipline at some point. To be honest, my spiritual life has suffered greatly in the past six years, and my writing has suffered along with it (as well as my music, needlework, and everything else).
So, perhaps I’ll write about choices this month. Or about changes. Or about anything else that strikes my fancy. I’m just making a commitment to posting a bit each day, for now.
I have referred to The Man Diet several times in various places as something I have done and recommend. After explaining it several times, I finally wrote it up and put it on my web site. The article is a bit aged now, so I’m updating it and moving it to the blog. Of course it got a little longer in the updating
Katie seems to be feeling a bit better. She slept through most of the day, and just got up a few minutes ago (right at the end of my and Sam’s date) feeling like she could eat something. Solid food, even! That’s progress. Since she didn’t have any antivirals, I don’t think this was really the flu. She should still be much sicker if it was. I’m not at all unhappy about that. Read more
While I was reading friends’ updates at Facebook today, something reminded me of a girl I knew back in high school. She went to my high school, and as far as I know she was in my graduating class. I didn’t meet her at school, though, and I don’t think our paths crossed there. I knew her from church. She introduced me to the guy who became my first husband (who she had dated in the recent past).
Now I’m driving myself nuts, because I absolutely cannot remember her name! I can see her face, plain as day. I remember that she had a somewhat uncommon last name. I think she had an older brother who had been a big deal on the football team a year or three ahead of us. Why can’t I remember her name?
I’m really bad with names, honestly. A Facebook application was asking me to verify 130+ people as high school classmates, and truly, I didn’t recognize many of them at all. I didn’t remember most of the people I saw at our five year reunion. After 25 years? I’m hopeless.
Maybe I should get my old yearbooks out and look at Facebook and the yearbooks at the same time. I don’t know that I’d be any better that way, either. I need context for most people — not just a face and a name, but also something like “that guy from homeroom who was always drawing cars in his notebooks” or “that soprano who bathed in Emeraude” or “the cute geeky drummer who seldom made eye contact with anybody” (okay, him I’d recognize, and I do remember his name).
Our yearbooks aren’t the sort that listed people’s activities with their photos. You would have to search through all the activity listings to find out who did what, which is much more annoying.
Ten years ago today, Sam took me out on our first “real” date (as in, without the kids or anyone else). Thank you, love. Here’s to many more decades!
Love, the strongest and deepest element in all life, the harbinger of hope, of joy, of ecstasy; love, the defier of all laws, of all conventions; love, the freest, the most powerful molder of human destiny; how can such an all-compelling force be synonymous with that poor little State and Church-begotten weed, marriage?
Free love? As if love is anything but free! Man has bought brains, but all the millions in the world have failed to buy love. Man has subdued bodies, but all the power on earth has been unable to subdue love. Man has conquered whole nations, but all his armies could not conquer love. Man has chained and fettered the spirit, but he has been utterly helpless before love. High on a throne, with all the splendor and pomp his gold can command, man is yet poor and desolate, if love passes him by. And if it stays, the poorest hovel is radiant with warmth, with life and color. Thus love has the magic power to make of a beggar a king. Yes, love is free; it can dwell in no other atmosphere.
Emma Goldman, "Marriage and Love," Anarchism and Other Essays (1911)