Brendan came up with something pretty cute today. He has begun to name inanimate objects. His blue bouncy ball is Snuggly. His lamp is Shiny. And the imaginary elephant who lives in our family room is Stevie. And all the while I celebrated his creativity today, my insides ached with guilt and sorrow. Guilt for having a beautiful, healthy little boy whom I take for granted or get frustrated with because he's three and doesn't do all the things I think he should. Sorrow at learning two of my dear friends lost their baby boy at 20 weeks gestation.
Scott and I have lost a baby to miscarriage. It was in the first trimester and we reeled from it. I can't imagine how much worse it is for our friends. I am stymied by the shock and sadness of it and feel at a loss for how to help them. I pray I can find some words or kind gesture that will lessen their pain the slightest bit.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Monday, March 20, 2006
He Hate Me
Actually, Fate hates me.
I started a book club for my MOMS Club chapter five months ago. I've been to exactly one meeting.
I've read every book. I've reviewed book club questions on-line, pondering how I would answer them. I've thought about what the major themes of the book were and how I related to each character. One month, when there was a long waiting list for the book (The Sunday Wife
) at my library, I checked out the book-on-tape version and loved it. Joan Allen narrated it and I loved listening to her soothing, beautiful voice.
But, in the end, even getting to hear Joan Allen reading a decent novel was disappointing when, in the end, I never got to talk about it with anyone.
Every month I tell the other women in the book club that I'll be there and every month something goes wrong to prevent me from coming. At this point, I'm sure they think I'm lying. Twice, Scott was sick and I didn't think I could leave Brendan with him. Once, I forgot to tell Scott and decided it wasn't fair to spring it on him at the last minute. And tonight, Brendan fell just as I was about to walk out the door. He scraped his back on our brick hearth and was really upset. By the time I got him calmed down enough that I could put him down, it was 30 minutes into our meeting time. I knew that if I tried to leave, he'd freak out again, so I gave up.
Why doesn't Fate want me to talk about good books with other women? Oh, well. At least I'm reading. It could be worse.
I started a book club for my MOMS Club chapter five months ago. I've been to exactly one meeting.
I've read every book. I've reviewed book club questions on-line, pondering how I would answer them. I've thought about what the major themes of the book were and how I related to each character. One month, when there was a long waiting list for the book (The Sunday Wife
) at my library, I checked out the book-on-tape version and loved it. Joan Allen narrated it and I loved listening to her soothing, beautiful voice. But, in the end, even getting to hear Joan Allen reading a decent novel was disappointing when, in the end, I never got to talk about it with anyone.
Every month I tell the other women in the book club that I'll be there and every month something goes wrong to prevent me from coming. At this point, I'm sure they think I'm lying. Twice, Scott was sick and I didn't think I could leave Brendan with him. Once, I forgot to tell Scott and decided it wasn't fair to spring it on him at the last minute. And tonight, Brendan fell just as I was about to walk out the door. He scraped his back on our brick hearth and was really upset. By the time I got him calmed down enough that I could put him down, it was 30 minutes into our meeting time. I knew that if I tried to leave, he'd freak out again, so I gave up.
Why doesn't Fate want me to talk about good books with other women? Oh, well. At least I'm reading. It could be worse.
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