Femamanist

Combo word, melding 'feminist' and 'mama'. I think that nothing has made me more aware of being a feminist than becoming a mother. Biology is intense, man! All my firm and solid concepts of woman is equal, woman is oppressed are thrown into the blender by basic biology. I can breastfeed. My partner, god love 'im, cannot. Therefore, it maketh senseth that I stay at home with young Buddha, whilst he worketh. I know lots of wonderful women go right back to work and love it, but I would argue that the body wants to nurture that child. It tells me so daily, and I am struck by how right it feels to be at home with her. Listening to my body has been an important learning curve, and two masters degrees have had no help to offer...

There are stir-crazy days, for sure. Part of me is constantly wondering if I've sold out... and the other day, when lovely partner came home, it was all I could do to hand baby over to him and go for a walk by the sea. Out there, in dark January night, with the driving rain pulsing like sharp nibbles against my cheek, I looked out over the harbour waves, and thought, 'This isn't easy, but I'm glad I'm doing it.'

For so long, I've been identifying myself by and through my work. Now, that mantle has dissolved (or at least it appears as an invisibility cloak) and I get to rewrite who and what I am. That's a magical opportunity.

And I can do it again and again...

welcoming new neighbours

new family moved in down the hall.
i baked oatmeal raisin cookies yesterday,
and we have a bouquet of daisies on the table.

my first thought,
to welcome them with flowers and biscuits,
wrapped up in tissue paper,
with a nice card.

but then i thought,
will they worry that the cookies are poison?
that this is creepy?
that we are swingers?

what a world in which to welcome new neighbours into...
but i'm doing it anyway.

to hell with the consequences.

Haven-Hunting

Because we are full to the brim,
possessions sloshing over the edge of our tiny
flat-by-the-sea,
we have begun
looking.

This will be the 15th move in 12 years. O my.
May it be the last for a long long time.

But finding the right space is harder than finding adequate space...
and the flats which I would choose are not
suited to our present needs.

So I gloss over the adorable quirky over-shop apartments of light and charm,
and shrug my soccer-mom mantle over my shoulders
sigh,
and click on '3-bedroom house with garage and garden'
no matter what the picture looks like.

growing up is hard.

Recycled baby kit

Because we're broke, and because I cringe at the idea of spending money on an infant who will outgrow any expensive kit in a few weeks or months, I spent the last few months of prengancy in a nesting craft-spree which terrified my partner (deservedly) and covered our floor with fabric scraps (some are still there) and now has resulted in a plethora of recycled baby kit.

Here it is... or part of it. The pocketed hanging thingey is one of a set of three. The other two hang over the doorway, and hold clothes/nappies. This one was made to hang over a curtain rod, and holds socks/hats, etc. I made it out of a pair of linen pants (blue) and an old twin-sheet (yellow stripes). Pretty easy, really - just a few hours with the sewing machine. The pocketed thingey in front is made out of a denim skirt, and holds nappies for the changing table. Phew! Glad to have it all - glad it's all there now. Thank goodness for freaky nesting urges.

Treasures

Here's one I forgot. This little tie-dyed hat came from Pike Place Market in Seattle, and was a gift from Amma and Grandpa, way back last summer. It just now fits, and has lots of stretch... so hopefully it will fit for a while, because I love it.

Amazing baby gifts! I know the baby is 5 weeks old now, so this is a bit late, but we have only just managed to figure out which gifts are truly the favourites... but here they are! The snowsuit is almost 30 years old - my brother wore it as a baby. Its too warm to wear most days, but I thought it was worth preserving the second-generation use. It was handknitted by our friend Nancy. Next to baby-in-snowsuit is the best teddy in the world, which was a gift from Nana last week. (I wish it were mine! Not homemade, but amazing. So soft.)

The blue star quilt was made by my Aunt Ann, and shipped from the US, as was the soft soft lovely cosy blankie next to it - made by friends Tami & Devlin. What a lucky baby! Thank you to all craftspeople out there.

Being a hermit and saving your soul

Well, I'm entering the second month of motherhood, and I'm learning to love the days when I give myself permission to be a hermit without guilt. The progressive feminist in me thinks, 'Wow, I need to get out, to see the world, to engage with my fellow humans...' but some days, all I want to do is slounge around the house with Baby, to get dressed in whatever looks cleanish and comfortable, and to just BE.

I've declared today to be Hermit Without Guilt Thursday and thusly, I am ...now...slounging.

Baby seems to agree, as she's just fallen dead asleep with no forseeable screaming. So I get to watch Obama footage on NPR (and probably cry again like a big ex-patriot hypocrite who loves to feel proud of a country she's left...) and try some crafty projects.

Yesterday, I made African Peanut Soup - one of my old favourites - but didn't have the right kind of chilies. (I do love England, but good chilies are easier to track down in the states, for sure.) The cheesy muffins that went with it was the best part though. The soup recipe was from my old workplace, the Colophon Cafe, in Bellingham, WA. I'll include an attachment, with huge credit to them. If ever you seek hearty homemade veggie-friendly food, and you are in western Washington State, hearken to them.

So today will be cake-baking day, with some hefty sock-knitting to boot. (Ha ha, to boot. That's funny.)

To reclaim and reinvent.

So, my beloved partner is obsessed with anything to do with the world wars, affectionately and reverently referred to as 'WW1 or WW2' around our house. So, when I was in Seattle last summer, visiting family, I brought back a vintage WW1 military backpack as a gift for him...

This selfsame backpack has sat, unused, in our closet since. And because I have been thrown off-balance by baby-in-sling as of late, I'm reclaiming it, A) as mine, and B) as a non-military, hippie-lovin', nappy-toting vessel of love.

So here goes. I include a 'before' picture... even though I've already covered the USA logo with some flower power.

Far from the motherland...

I'm never homesick for America. Truly. There's very little that I miss about my country of origin - especially the Supersized Excess that has become its hallmark. And in recent years, I've actively resented that its identity is embedded in my accent, my perspective, and my upbringing.

But.

Today, I feel the glimmering, the shadow of hope. It flits across my psyche, and giggles at my dreary pessimism...

Happy inaguration day, America.

May we do better than we have done. May we begin now. This second. I believe it's possible.

Burnt Offering

Having crisped breakfast,
the smudgy lingering memory of black toast
hangs, shawl-warm, on my shoulders
so i prepare to escape toward
the raindrenched world exterior
partly to escape my own head's swimmings,
but mostly to breathe the sea air zest
and walk with purpose
in no specific direction.


this i know.
that it is the striding with intention that matters,
not the destination.

Rite of Passage

So, I graduated yesterday. Again.

Two masters degrees, a bachelor's degree, and a high school diploma have given me four graduation ceremonies, but this one was the most important of my life. And that's because during the Chancellor's address, I heard a small, quiet, gentle baby wail from the upper balcony - and knew that I'd truly graduated - to focusing my energy on Being, rather than Doing...

Getting to the graduation was a superhuman feat, involving two hours of preparation, and none of my postgraduate reearch came close to preparing me for the daily events of my current existence. As I packed my two bottles of expressed and sanitized glory into the full nappy bag, I thought, 'Someone should write a PhD on this.'

Pinching pennies

January is a tight month, which has a spirit of adventure to it, but also a heavy yoke of stress too. Little things, like how much milk I put on my cereal, have become worthy of note - and it makes us a bit snippy about Life In General. On the other hand, as financially poor as we are, I know that we've never been richer. In fact, this is the happiest, most rewarded, best-heart's-ease time I've ever known... so whose complaining?

That said, I just got an email from my sweet mama, who tells me that the uni she works for is cutting her hours in half. This is the most talented teacher I know - and someone who brings solace and help to hundreds of students every year. This, compared to the worthless academic research-based profs who ignore students and just concentrate on intellectual self-pleasure. Garh! How frustrating! I guess economic crises affect everyone, the academic world included. But I wish they'd keep the Teachers and do away with the Thinkers. Because I know that in my world, I want people who cultive, nurture, and grow strength in others, versus those who are locked up in an office, concentrating on reputations. Oh, I know that's unfair, but I don't care. We're all entitled to our prejudices.

Here's a good thought, to cancel out the previous ones...
I've decided what my Daily Thing That Scares Me will be today. I'm taking the buggy out (by myself) for the first time. I've been a big wuss and used the sling every day so far, but today I need to go to the shops, and therefore, need help with carrying milk, buttter, etc. So I'll officially become a Buggy-Pushing-Mummy today... terrifying. Every ounce of hippie in me screams in protest, not to mention my feminist soul. But I think, in the grand scheme of 'not judging others', it's karmic retribution. That's right, womanhood! Judge not, lest it be you someday! (At least now, I get to be the one who mows others down with reckless and heedless abandon. Ha ha!)

Soup Fights Rain

Today began with a Full On Dismal Moment, which doesn't bear explanation. However, it did mean that the rest of the day stacked into a one-woman campaign to fight the dismal universe. So, in the end, one batch of spicy tortilla soup, one dish of homemade mac & cheese, two cups of tea, a lot of Dolly Parton, one windswept walk to the beach in the rain, and a long hot shower results in an abated dismal universe. Plus, I knit the heel of my Super-Powered-Purple socks.


So there, Dismalness!

Bsby has slept most of today, so we've also managed to do 2 loads of laundry and clean the kitchen and bathroom. Why am I detailing this? I guess it makes me feel better, to see it laid out, as if it really happened.

Woke to rocks on my window

Today, after a baby-induced stupor of a sleepless night, I woke to what I thought were rocks hitting our second-story bedroom window. I lay there for a while, trying to figure out why someone would throw rocks from a restaurant alleyway... and then peered out to see. It was only a roofer, clearing the gutter from the four-star restaurant next door. (I guess four-star restaurants still get dirty gutters, like the rest of us.)

But it got me up.

And in the end, it got me out to the door, and to the local children's centre, with the Mama's Breastfeeding group, and allowed me to clear my groggy head a bit. So, I think it was the universe throwing rocks at my psyche - telling me to get my ass in gear and get on with it.

And thusly, I set some New Year's Resolutions, albeit late ones, since it is the lucky 14th of January today. But better late than never, right?

I resolve and renew my desire to create - in whatever form it manifests for 2009. Last year, all my knitting and sewing and writing and doing churned into one single act of creation, which obliterated all the others. I am so grateful and happy to have Baby S here, but it's time to turn the tide and explore new avenues in 2009. I resolve to learn new routes and practice new tools.

I also resolve and renew my desire to concentrate on being simple, and focusing my energy on my personal life, rather than work-life.

And most importantly, I resolve to do One Thing Every Day That Scares Me... which was a resolution years ago, and possibly the best thing I ever did. It can be large or small, Big Scary or just a twinge of fear, andI don't have to succeed at it... but I do have to do it.

Baby sleeps

Little S sleeps on my lap, unsure as a baby bird about whether she wants to eat or sleep. She wakes fitfully every ten minutes or so, then puts herself to sleep again nursing in the next moment. I wish my life was this present, depending on my whims or moods...

Meanwhile, we bake apple spice cake and listen to books on tape.

Just this.

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars."

Jack Kerouac

New Life Schedule

Today, my partner returned to work, which marked the first day that bebe and I have spent, just the two of us. We'd been barraged by family for four weeks, and now it's all evaporated... into just us...

which was lovely, in a 'i didn't want to accomplish anything anyway' kind of way.

Two loads of laundry, a load of dishes, and three chapters read in me book, and here it is 7:oo, and the day almost over. Where did the time go?