Here's some photos:
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Brain fried and butterflied
We spent Saturday morning at Butterfly World with a gaggle of toddlers, admiring the butterflies, feeding the overfed koi, and getting attacked by the lorikeets.
Here's some photos:
Here's some photos:
Thursday, January 17, 2008
I'm not single, and I'm not your mother.
In some ways, I embrace the term "single mom". It's incredibly difficult to be a single mom, and simultaneously so incredibly rewarding, based on the level of difficulty alone. I love the bond between my child and myself, and the fact that our time alone together has given us a rock-solid foundation of trust and closeness.
While being a single mom has its drawbacks, it also has its freedoms, like spontaneous road trips, a clean house, no one else's underpants to launder, and full control of the remote. If I want to turn up the radio and dance on the coffee table to Thelma Houston like the gay man I am, there's no one there to stare at me disapprovingly. Except the neighbors. Close your curtains, y'all, 'cause this show goes on all day.
The characteristic of the term "single mom" that I do not like is one of perceived limitation.
“Oh, that’s Jane; she’s a single mom…” I’m picturing her unpacking groceries, checking homework, balancing a checkbook, and never having enough hours in the day or enough patience to get through it all.
Additionally, "single mom" does not encompass all that I am. I'm a writer. I like taking photographs. I am passionate, about many things. I love to cook wild new dishes and invite friends over. While I yearn for a sense of community, I love to experience new places alone. I love giant forests and vast national parks and places that are quiet enough to hear wind through branches. I love old houses. I love to drive incredibly fast. I have an overwhelming sense of social responsibility. I like to dance in places that are so crowded that you become completely anonymous. I love museums, and my favorite examples of classical music are usually cello or violin pieces. I love flowers. I feel that to label myself a "single mom" negates the infinite possible reactions to our environment that could distinctively describe me, and instead tags me primarily as one despondent and in need.
Is "single mom" a badge of honor, or a pigeonholed assignation with negative undertones?
Although single moms are some of the strongest women I know, I feel that when you refer to someone as “a single mom”, you’re consequently alluding to a perceived adversity, which detracts from the woman as a unique and empowered individual.
The term “single mom” is a constant reminder to me that I can either allow my situation to drag me down, or give me strength as I fight to distance myself from a label with which I want no association. There has to be a better term for women capable of getting so much accomplished, and still raising a happy, well-balanced and much-loved child. "Single mom" just isn't doing it for me anymore.
While being a single mom has its drawbacks, it also has its freedoms, like spontaneous road trips, a clean house, no one else's underpants to launder, and full control of the remote. If I want to turn up the radio and dance on the coffee table to Thelma Houston like the gay man I am, there's no one there to stare at me disapprovingly. Except the neighbors. Close your curtains, y'all, 'cause this show goes on all day.
The characteristic of the term "single mom" that I do not like is one of perceived limitation.
“Oh, that’s Jane; she’s a single mom…” I’m picturing her unpacking groceries, checking homework, balancing a checkbook, and never having enough hours in the day or enough patience to get through it all.
Additionally, "single mom" does not encompass all that I am. I'm a writer. I like taking photographs. I am passionate, about many things. I love to cook wild new dishes and invite friends over. While I yearn for a sense of community, I love to experience new places alone. I love giant forests and vast national parks and places that are quiet enough to hear wind through branches. I love old houses. I love to drive incredibly fast. I have an overwhelming sense of social responsibility. I like to dance in places that are so crowded that you become completely anonymous. I love museums, and my favorite examples of classical music are usually cello or violin pieces. I love flowers. I feel that to label myself a "single mom" negates the infinite possible reactions to our environment that could distinctively describe me, and instead tags me primarily as one despondent and in need.
Is "single mom" a badge of honor, or a pigeonholed assignation with negative undertones?
Although single moms are some of the strongest women I know, I feel that when you refer to someone as “a single mom”, you’re consequently alluding to a perceived adversity, which detracts from the woman as a unique and empowered individual.
The term “single mom” is a constant reminder to me that I can either allow my situation to drag me down, or give me strength as I fight to distance myself from a label with which I want no association. There has to be a better term for women capable of getting so much accomplished, and still raising a happy, well-balanced and much-loved child. "Single mom" just isn't doing it for me anymore.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Be it ever so humble...
"At leve er ikke nok. Solskin, frihed og en lille blomst må man ha'." (Just living is not enough. One must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.) -- HC Andersen
It's 11pm, and I was just outside, hanging up laundry. It's 73F delightful degrees (23C), and it's not until I talk to other people elsewhere in the world that I suddenly remember that January is cold in other places.
I'm not stupid, really. I just.... ok, I'm dumb.
I was thinking about getting away for the weekend, since Monday is a holiday for both Malena and I. I would love to go somewhere a little off the beaten path, maybe somewhere in the Keys, or Amelia Island, or up in Georgia, around Jekyll Island, or the mountains.Then I talked to Kara in Atlanta, who made an offhand comment about the Georgia temperature being somewhere around freezing, and I quickly decided to spend the weekend right here at home. The satellite TV is paid for, the ocean breezes are warm and caressing, and I don't have to drive anywhere.
Ta-da.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Focus shifting
Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things. -- Robert Brault
Some days, when my eyeballs begin to glaze over after hours at the computer, I tear myself away and head over to our local park for a walk.
It's a small, quiet park, and at most, I run into one or two other people there. I love the frenetic interaction of other people, but I also cherish solitude, especially during these years as a mother where time alone is precious and rejuvenating.
No matter how many times I’ve been to this park, I always see new things, whether it’s the time of day and the sunlight, or my current frame of mind. Today I was completely fixated on color and textures.
I feel changes coming. It's like the electricity in the air before a storm. There are many factors in my life that are, for lack of a better description, coming to a boiling point. I think this was my mood today while I walked through the park.
I love change. Sometimes I crave change. I also work really well under pressure, or when I'm pissed off. I think it’s exciting to move across the country, or change jobs, or just pull myself out of my normal routine – but can’t just jump anymore, now that I have a three-year old daughter.
So for the time being, I just feel really, really antsy. :)
Maybe I'll shave my head, or paint a wall. Today it was just about getting outside and enjoying what was already there.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
When you have only two pennies...
When you have only two pennies left in the world, buy a loaf of bread with one, and a lily with the other. ~Chinese Proverb
As a single mom, things can get tight financially from time to time. Last week, I was working from Copenhagen, and couldn't enter my time into the corporate system for whatever reason, and didn't get a paycheck.
So I bought flowers.
Flowers remind me that I am somebody. They remind me that when times are tough, it's still my responsibility to show my daughter the beautiful things that life has to offer, and keep her smiling. And there's nothing nicer than waking up early and seeing the morning sunlight streaming through the translucent petals of some beautiful lillies.
It rained pretty hard today. Malena took a long afternoon nap while I started to read the next book for the book club I just joined, Jesus Land. I lit some incense and candles and stretched out on the sofa and ...promptly fell asleep. When we woke, we went outside and planted some 99-cent snapdragons with my kid's giant plastic beach rake.
Which is exactly how a good Sunday is supposed to be.
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