i recently heard of a mother who sits in front of a television all day with her son. in addition to being sad, to me this just sounds incredibly boring. the delight in being a mother is in playing with my son, in watching him explore and discover, in laughing with him. sometimes he will make me laugh, and then just laugh at me laughing at him. it is so delightful.
while in michigan, someone made the comment that my son is remarkably adept at entertaining himself--not with a screen or with loud electronic toys, but being content in exploring and interacting with the world around him. i could not have received a higher compliment. it is so, so important to me that my child(ren) be able to create things and be part of the physical, material world, that they not be dependent on technology or attention-seeking, imagination-stifling gadgets. i hope and pray that i can raise my son and any subsequent children to find God through the natural world, to develop themselves to entertain through music, art, intellectual discovery, and the joy of nature. to me, this is being a parent: not just occupying my baby to get through the day, but to give of myself in order that he may be the most human person that he can be.
more here . . .
21 July 2010
01 July 2010
dancing in the dark
still using someone else's artwork as blog background . . . ah, c'est la vie. but, as i have been posting everywhere, i have started pointe again--sans baby belly this time--and i love it so very, very much.
the baby is awake, again, because his sleep schedule has gotten all wonky, and i finally figured out how to rescue LB from the black muddiness of too many backgrounds etc. i do not think anyone is still out there, but, as others note, sometimes it is necessary to write. and why write publicly? because i . . . i am lonely, for one thing. and there is always the chance that, by "publishing," someone will see, understand--maybe, maybe even be helped by my ramblings. everyone is moving away; i have not spoken to my dear dear friend since her wedding (less than a month ago, but it feels like ages); my dearest sister is gone gone gone. i still have many good people here, but it is so much easier for me to write than to talk, still.
it is so hard, so very hard, to understand God's workings. it seemed so right and fitting and timely that we would be leaving this autumn, but we have found nothing. i feel, once again, left behind, trapped, forgotten, passed over. of course God is not doing that, but those feelings are still there.
in the meantime, hubs and i are going to watch some more Flight of the Conchords. in absence of any sort of sense in reality, i find it helpful to escape into further nonsense.
. . .
the baby is awake, again, because his sleep schedule has gotten all wonky, and i finally figured out how to rescue LB from the black muddiness of too many backgrounds etc. i do not think anyone is still out there, but, as others note, sometimes it is necessary to write. and why write publicly? because i . . . i am lonely, for one thing. and there is always the chance that, by "publishing," someone will see, understand--maybe, maybe even be helped by my ramblings. everyone is moving away; i have not spoken to my dear dear friend since her wedding (less than a month ago, but it feels like ages); my dearest sister is gone gone gone. i still have many good people here, but it is so much easier for me to write than to talk, still.
it is so hard, so very hard, to understand God's workings. it seemed so right and fitting and timely that we would be leaving this autumn, but we have found nothing. i feel, once again, left behind, trapped, forgotten, passed over. of course God is not doing that, but those feelings are still there.
in the meantime, hubs and i are going to watch some more Flight of the Conchords. in absence of any sort of sense in reality, i find it helpful to escape into further nonsense.
. . .
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