My Photo

September 2011

Sun Mon Tue Wed Thu Fri Sat
        1 2 3
4 5 6 7 8 9 10
11 12 13 14 15 16 17
18 19 20 21 22 23 24
25 26 27 28 29 30  

Tweet Me Good Baby, Tweet Me Nice

Blog powered by Typepad



« Postpartum What The Fuck: Part Two | Main | Dear Customer »



If you don't think anyone is talking about the war, you haven't been to my parents' house over Thanksgiving. Or this past weekend, come to think of it. Get involved, mama. Do what you can. It's the one thing that counters my own fear that I royally fucked up by bringing a child into this world.

grudge girl

Wow. I identified with this post on so many fronts. I remember sitting in the living room feeding 5 month old Simon and watching the towers fall, and that's when my mother fear started. That asteroid/starvation/radiation disaster fear. That's when I started taking seriously the end times prophecy shows late at night, and the apocalypse, Nostradamus people. That fear is so overwhelming.

I also know what it's like to have a joy baby girl who wins admirers wherever she goes. All she has to do is look at them, and they're lost in delight--old, young, male, female--doesn't matter. She's so very engaged with the world outside of herself. It's elemental to her nature, and almost completely antithetical to mine. I think I might have been like her at some point, though. Interest/curiosity-wise, anyway. I was never as cute as this little pig-tailed atom bomb of happy.

It's quite a responsibility, isn't it, mothering a creature like this. What if we accidentally quash that quality in them. Or are we supposed to? Or is it simply our job to comfort them when it happens, as it must, because of forces outside ourselves?

It was eerie to read this today, because I have been formulating a post in my head all day about Charlotte, and how she's so completely different than what I imagined my daughter would be, and how I am processing that... trying to learn her, and to learn to mother her.

I understand, if that's any help or consolation, or even just amusing to you.


You've spurred so many thoughts in my head with this post, but the only two that I'm articulate enough to write are these: I'm glad you wrote this, and that I read it.


I hope yousave this for your daughter-- it is a gorgeous loveletter to her without cloying sentiment-- true passionate love with all the confusion and unanswered questions that come with it. Gorgeous loveletter.

The comments to this entry are closed.