Archive for ‘Ruminations’

2011 29 March

When I grow elderly…

… I hope that I will have a good relationship with my son.

I was at the doctor’s office yesterday. I see an Endocrinologist every six months to monitor my Hashimoto’s thyroiditis (it’s an autoimmune disorder that causes an underactive thyroid). While I was waiting (for 45 minutes… but who was counting) to be called back, an elderly woman came in with an older man, who I presumed to be her son (which was later confirmed). She was kind of zany, talking loudly about her dog, then her house, then televisions (her son is going to buy a 42″ LCD by Sony when he needs to replace his).

It was sweet. He was patient with her. Let her talk and stumble between cogent thoughts. Kept up with her ramblings.

I hope that when I’m old and crazy (because you know I’ll be kind of bat-sh*t crazy by then), Kola will be there; to take me to doctor visits where we have to wait an hour to be seen then drive me to the pharmacy to wait for my numerous prescriptions for Alzheimer’s and whatnot; to be patient when I ramble (which he should get plenty of practice in the next 60 years); to listen to me noncoherently chide him for buying a 42″ LCD Plasma whatever-we’ll-have-by-then television/retinal projection unit/space goggles. I’m not worried about the next 20 years – I got that. I’m curious about the next 50. I know that when it comes to it, I’ll do the same for my parents (who may or may not already ramble), and hopefully I can raise Kola equally as well as they did me. I think that the relationship a parent has with their child is most evident after the breach of adulthood. A parent can only do their best, and they can only hope for the same.

The years teach much which the days never knew.  Ralph Waldo Emerson

What do you think? What is the measure of good parenting? What are you aspirations for 50 years from now? Share in the comments or on the FaceBook.

2011 14 March

My Birth Story

Pregnancy and birthing hold a very special place in each woman’s heart. For most, their pregnancies represent an important time in their life; a time for personal growth, a time for interpersonal growth, a time to appreciate life, a time to be amazed with our bodies and innate capabilities. Birthing, likewise, represents a hugely significant experience. Some women are ambivalent about their birthing experience – they were pregnant, it was wonderful, their baby arrived, and they are and have been raising their baby. For some, their birth experience is an empowering experience; they spent nine months nurturing a developing new life, spent countless hours, days, weeks, preparing for their birth weighing the pros and cons of where to birth, how to birth, and with whom. For others, their birth experience was a traumatizing experience; they become overwhelmed, do not make wise decisions or are not permitted to make their own decisions, things do not go as planned and they have a birth they are not proud of. One mother can have a different experience for each birth; growing and learning from one to the next; regressing and becoming disenchanted from one to the other. Some women have a  combination of experiences in their birth, leaving their experience not easily classifiable on its positive or negative attributes. This would be me.

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2011 7 March

I ♥ My Family: An Introduction

I’ve only been blogging for a very short period of time, but I have yet to formally introduce myself and my little family.

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2011 22 February

I ♥ Seasons: Late Winter, 2011

In Cleveland, Ohio, winter is no stranger. Cuyahoga County, and many others surrounding, have two seasons: Winter and Construction. I sometimes prefer to designate the seasons as Uggs and Open-Toe (occasionally interchangeable with “Flip-Flops” or “Birkenstocks”).

Last week, most of NorthEast Ohio was blessed with a respite from the frigid temperatures and tortuous conditions.. okay, it’s not *that* bad here, but we’re up there! We saw temperatures teasing the 60’s! Lows of 45 in February! Highs of 59! It was unfortunately short-lived, and no matter how many times winter pulls this cruel trickery, year after year, we still collectively hope that winter is over when our February break arrives (the groundhog *did* say that Spring is coming soon… in six weeks… or was it six more weeks of winter?). No such luck.

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