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Monday, December 26, 2011

I Do It Myself

Nica has begun saying this the past few days.  Though I know it is just a normal part of growing up and (nearly) every kid adopts this attitude, I hope that she will not be so overly independent as I have sometimes been, thinking I must do everything by myself.  A strong sense of family is one of many things I have come to appreciate about my husband's culture.
When we first started dating, I had no patience for having to go everywhere in a crowd.  The underlying machismo that a woman could not be trusted alone and must always protect her reputation by having witnesses to vouch for her good behavior would send me into self-righteous, raving fits.
But when I needed someone and had her there, I began to change my mind about that.  Before I got pregnant with Nica, I miscarried.  It was a fairly routine thing, nothing dramatic, but it was my first pregnancy and I was devastated.  I had told him not to go with me because I knew I was in for a long day of back and forth to the lab, a gynecological exam (never fun, but definitely didn't want my husband in the room), but I didn't know I would get an ultrasound.  My poor sixteen-year-old niece Suzy was with me-- my husband had sent her to keep me company on the long drive to the hospital.  On the way there it was a little uncomfortable.  How much does a thirty year old have to say to a teenager?  But I was so glad to have someone with me on that long ride home.
It has been a process, learning to be available to others and sometimes dependent on them, but I am grateful I have learned to slow down, share myself, and be open to those in my life.

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

You Know the Old Saying

"Don't pray for patience, or God will give you trials."?  Well, I haven't been praying for patience-- willpower,yes, patience, no-- but evidently I was up for a review today anyway.  Mostly a thousand small things, the bigger girls wreaking havoc at the Health Unit, who were running late as usual, Wal-Mart, grumpy girls, the small cough that woke Isa from her nap when I was ALMOST asleep too, etc.
And now I am avoiding the ultimate practice in patience: the matching and folding of the socks.  For anyone who doesn't know, I have stair-step girls in the house 0, 1, and 2 years old, and their socks are remarkably similar, as you can imagine.  In fact soon, or now, if I had been shopping, Isabel will catch up with Esme and their sock sizes will be the same.
Looking at the pile of pastel elasticized cotton, I am reminded of the Japanese brides who must fold a thousand origami cranes before they can marry as a preparation in  patience for putting up with their husbands.  Though I am neither Japanese nor a bride, and those ladies must only do this once in life and the laundry will come around again next week as surely as the sun rises in the morning, I am still grateful for this family--even though I would prefer not to need so much patience.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

My First Time

Ok, now that I have your attention, I am starting this blog.  Not really sure where I am going with it, but just feel really interested in writing lately-- and, hey, this is free.
I hope that I have something to write worth reading, and, if not, at least it will be a journal of the girls growing up!