Lullaby

My great friend Kathy sent me this today. If I had any talent, I'd have written it myself, as I relate so well to the poet's intent.

"Nursery, 11:00 p.m."
by Robyn Sarah, from Questions About the Stars. © Brick Books.

Nursery, 11:00 p.m.
Asleep, the two of you, daughter and son, in separate cribs,
what does it matter to you
that I stand watching you now,
I, the mother who did not smile all day,
who yelled, Go away, get out, leave me alone
when the soup-pot tipped over on the stove,
the mother who burned the muffins
and hustled bedtime, tight-lipped.

You are far away, beyond reach of whispered amends.
Yet your calm breathing seems to forgive, unwinding into the air to mesh
like lace, knitting together the holes in the dark.

It makes of this dark one whole covering to shawl around me.
How warm it is, I think, how much softer than my deserving.

These Boots Are Made for Walking

Ahhh, the sweet euphoria of designer shoes at a discount. Is there anything more blissful?





An unexpected hug from a child? A rainbow?

Perhaps.

But those things are fleeting. My boots are hand-sewn to last and last....

I Walk the Line

I believe I suffer from a hormonal predisposition to overschedule. This malady is evidenced by an annoying ability to juggle more than I can handle, and then absurdly asking for more.

It's not technically my fault. I figured out that it is indeed a learned response. I mean, when you're surrounded by this kind of social distortion, is there any wonder that we begin to pattern our behavior accordingly?

Case in point: One of my best friends is running interference between chemo treatments with her mom, a toddler with chicken pox, Hubby putting in 20-hour workdays (that's right, I said 20), and doting on a newborn. While working full-time.

Another shames Martha Stewart by planning themed birthday parties for 40 preschoolers, engagement parties with homemade chocolate favors, and Disney family vacation packages with all the bells and whistles all while carrying a position with a Fortune 50 company.

Then there are the women in my community group that help plan fundraising events to help needy families for the holidays in between shifts as room mother in their kids' kindergarten classes, cooking meals for neighbors with newborn babies and performing brilliantly at their office jobs.

Or the ubermoms who are back in school getting advanced degrees in the last stages of their third pregnancies (read: two small children to contend with while studying, doing clinical work and suffering from back pain and heartburn) while ensuring the perfect balance of creative outlets and learning opportunities for them via karate, dance, music lessons and Spanish classes.

There are the Brownie troop leaders, the Discovery Toy ladies, the home-based business entrepreneurs...not to mention ye 'ole traditional 9-5ers that still somehow show up for Ladies Night Out with perfect haircuts and manicures.

The fact is, we no longer build a life to enjoy and experience one day at a time. It's more like we exist to see how much we can cram into every waking minute because that's what everyone around us does.

Well, I, for one, am tired. Enough already. Uncle, dammit.

There's no real achievement in demonstrating my "commitment" to my kids through this hyper involvement syndrome anyway, is there?

I'd much rather set an example of balance, tranquility and appreciation for the moment. Yup, the more I think about it, I'm trading in my self-employed business owner, board member, volunteery self for a kindler, gentler version.

Right after tomorrow's board meeting. Or definitely after I send out that press release and finish my carpool obligation.

Tranquility, yessiree. That's my goal. Next week. Latest.

Crazy

The High Holidays are about atonement and promises of a better self in the new year, but this story tests my very limits. Jewish or not, we must acknowledge that this man is an ass.

In other bizarre-o news, I spent several minutes staring at this picture trying to figure out where the python began and the croc ended. I'm still not sure the scenario is clear in my mind, but it's a hell of a way to digest your supper.

And finally, for you canine lovers who suffer guilt after neutering your best friend, check out what this guy did in all of his spare time. Good that people know where to spend their money. It's not like there are people starving in the world or anything....

Chicago

In the never-ending quest for self-improvement and a healthy soul, I recently embarked on a retreat to the Windy City. My tools toward the goal: rest, relaxation and mind-numbing shopping excursions too extreme for the faint of heart.

A huge success in all categories, my girls' weekend was just what the doctor ordered. I slept two nights in a row without interruption (something I haven't done in years), ate phenomenal meals (check out Volare next time you're there) and got bundles and bags of goodies galore for my kids. The intention was to save most of the loot for the holidays, but true to form, ten minutes after getting home they'd worn me down completely and I was shelling it out like a premature elf.

We also saw Wicked. I am a HUGE fan of Wizard of Oz, and several close friends whose opinions I trust completely had raved about this play (not to mention plenty of hype from the critics), so I was beyond anticipation. The story (based on Maguire's novel) was clever, the concept unique, and the performers talented. Yet somehow I was still disappointed...the production really didn't come together for me. For those of you who have seen it--I have no clue what the weeble wobble things were, or how saving talking animals came into play? And the obtrusive, red-eyed dragon hanging front and center that is absolutely never referenced? I realize these are probably highly artistic and intelligent metaphors for some lower-lying storyline, but being the endearingly simple-minded person I am, I just didn't get it.

I did totally enjoy my afternoon at The Art Institute of Chicago Museum and long walks along the lake each morning. But I think my favorite part of the trip was the reminder that taking time just to connect with good friends is a very important part of my life, and should never be avoided this long again.