Because here’s what I realized about breastmilk. It’s amazing, it’s perfectly formulated for a baby and miraculously produced by a woman’s body, but it’s not the answer to every question. It’s not the solution to every problem.
I used to hear this reading and find Martha underappreciated. I saw myself in her, as the misunderstood person who was just trying to keep everyone afloat, who had every right to be stressed. Through my anxiety lens, taking on more than you can handle is normal Holding others to the same impossible standard you give yourself is expected. Festering bitterness is justified.
And then after a time, you give up on the pew altogether. You shuffle in late, straight for the cry room, embarrassed that you can’t make it on time with your ONE child, while the Abraham family managed to be on time with their 7 well-behaved kids. Show-offs.
Deep breath. Cold water washes over my lap-swimming bathing suit as I plunge into the pool gym. This bathing suit used to fit well, but two pregnancy’s in and it’s starting to pull and tug in ways I don’t love. I’m at the stage of pregnancy when it still looks like I drink too muchRead more
I love a year and a half. I love the enthusiasm that comes with the development of language, I love the strengthening of our bond because he can decide between oranges and blueberries, and confidence it gives him when I understand him. I never want to forget how he emphatically says “YEAH!” to every questionRead more
The old things to me are the ways that, for this moment, hour, or day, I am not trying to become a new, better, healthier, more interesting me. I’m just filling up my cup with the simple comforts that needn’t be appreciated by anyone but myself.
Perhaps today is a day to observe the world, to sit and not be of any use to anybody, adding nothing to the world around me except as a quiet presence.
There are always a couple of old men who are way too fit for their age, so their body is just a confusion of muscles and wrinkles and it’s slightly terrifying. They always seem to be standing around talking and joking about topics I can only guess at. Probably tuna sandwiches and The War (which one doesn’t matter). The nurse in me wants to approach the group and gently help them sit down, asking if I can take their blood pressure and do they need some Asprin.
“I could go into this very deeply, with very specific examples involving my sweet son trying to claw a little girl’s eye out at church who was 1/3 of his size, but I’ll spare you the mortifying details. Very simply, approach every mom with the gentleness you would want to receive because little Beau is going to shit in a strangers purse someday and you’re going to be really grateful if that woman has some understanding.”
Seb looked straight at me, a wicked twinkle in his eye. Without breaking the intense eye contact he had started, he slowly put one short leg up on the coffee table. “Sebastian Thomas.” I said sternly, “I don’t want you to climb on the coffee table.” With a smile that can only be described asRead more