Last week, the little girl enjoyed the typewriter’s novelty at the eighth grade project presentations. The computer’s inner workings were this project’s focus. How I’d forgotten about sticky keys. Wow.
I haven’t forgotten about determined four year-old girls’ determination, though, especially when it comes to not sleeping. Wow. We are, as she said when she was three, ka-zos-ted. I am pretty sure she’s an advisor for Honest Toddler. It makes sense that she’s a joiner, since I’m a member of the UCM (Union of Concerned Mothers). I also meet with what is, I realized last night, a women’s group with its own fancy acronym: MOTE (Mothers on the Edge). I found an extra t-shirt and an extra sweatshirt if anyone wants one (I am not kidding about this part).
So, a frazzled three good things for me are the incredible school year my middle two guys have had this year. From the eighth grade cheese project to the chance to sing with Whole Children’s Joyful chorus, my younger teen has had a pretty stunning time. That he’s gone from toes-in with friendships at the start of this middle school experience deeper, that’s the icing on the cake (and the cake; friendships are the cake). As for the third grader, he’s got friends and yarn and loves his new school. An email from his teacher summed up the reason for my gratitude about his classroom year: “Thank you all for all your support this year and for the privilege of teaching and enjoying your children. And I mean it.” Enjoyment of children is his teacher’s shining gift, and by shining, I really mean it’s luminescent in there, a magical slant on the overused “light.”
Two more good things are babies—I had some really good infant hang time (and new-mom hang time)—this week. I have been taking photographs of whole entire babies, and also their puffy soft feet and their bodies, which move and are wired and yet are still so not trying to keep up with the rest of the world’s harried pace. Delight. Last good thing I forgot to bring my camera along for, but it was the first day of our CSA pickup on Friday (photos are from our farm’s market stand). Shareholders and farm reunion, it was only a motion away. I went with younger teen. We chatted in the strawberry patch. We admired our greens. We dropped off our haul at home and walked into town for a dinner date. I don’t think you can do better.
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Okay, and now three good things from hither and yon:
Amongst flowers, can we agree that peonies are floozies? I mean this in the best sense; I would have to call them my favorites, if pressed. Not to take away from other flowers (and this week the roses… wow). I loved this essay about the party girls of spring.
I was a birth junkie well before giving birth. So, these birth photos captivated me (with a hat tip to Blue Milk’s Andrea Fox for the link).
The National Network of Abortion Funds had its annual conference over the weekend. I followed the Tweets (#Funds12). Yesterday, one of those tireless activists (heroines, heroines, seriously) posted this piece about the geography of abortion access. I will say until I’m blue in the face that the issue confronting us about health care (including reproductive health care) is access. No rights—regardless of whether we believe in them or not, theoretically—exist if you can’t use them.
