Wednesday, June 21, 2023

Graduation day


DP, Miss B, and I often joke that we’re “not a math family.” Words, rather than numbers, are our preferred medium, by a long way, to transmit information. So when DP suggested that I say a few words at Miss B’s graduation dinner, I was surprised to note that what kept coming into my mind were numbers. Those had more impact for me in capturing Miss B’s singular experience so far than any words I could corral onto paper. So here they are, documented for posterity.

26+3 Miss B’s gestational age when she made her unforeseen early entrance onto this plane of existence - at the very end of July, rather than her due date of early November.

590 That’s her birthweight, in grams; for those of you working in imperial, that’s 1 lb., 5 oz.

225 Days spent in hospital - about 7.5 months on the calendar, from the end of July 2004 to mid-march 2005.

When Miss B came home, her health was stable and her physical life and development became more typical in many ways (albeit on her own schedule). But her life experience continued to follow a road less traveled:

3 | 3 | 4 | 4 Miss B has lived in three countries on three continents, as well as in four US states. She also navigated four intercontinental moves between the ages of 3 and 13. 

(When we moved back to the US five years ago, I promised her that the next time she moved, it would be her decision. I’ve been able to keep that promise, and she has taken the decision to move again, to attend university. She will also be moving to her fourth country, but I’m grateful to say that she will be remaining on the same continent.)

10 | 7 In the course of all these moves, Miss B has also lived in 10 houses (or apartments), and attended seven schools - a metric that testifies to her resilience and adaptability.

For the final number that came to me, I tried to calculate the number of air miles that Miss B has logged. I gave up when I passed 100,000, and was not close to finishing.

Reflecting on these numbers brought me back to some words that I feel describe, at least somewhat adequately, the person she has always been and continues to become.

Intrepid

Creative

Curious

Passionate

Kind

Funny

Focused 

Brave

To Miss B: I offer you congratulations and admiration for all that you’ve learned and achieved as you complete this milestone and look to your next phase. I’m so glad that I’m your mother and riding this roller coaster with you. To me, you are first, last, and always - the mighty Miss B.

Sunday, October 9, 2022

Four months

 Well, that was an unplanned hiatus. Here’s a quick recap of key events since my last post:

The month of June was dominated by a two-week trip to England which was a combination of work and holiday. We were mostly in London, with excursions out of town on the weekends. The highlight of these was a trip to Oxford, our former hometown and Miss B’s birthplace, where we caught up with various friends and revisited old haunts. These included my favorite place, the Covered Market, here still sporting some yarnbombing to celebrate the Queen’s Jubilee, which had happened in May.


Speaking of Miss B, the theme of July was some big life stuff happening for her. One thing involved her being away for most of the month, on a three-week pre-college course that enabled her to delve into her love of history and start getting a taste of university life in an extremely historic location (as well as help her parents start preparing mentally and logistically for the next phase).


She finished up right at the end of the month, just before a milestone birthday. Luckily not yet too old for a themed cake though!


We kicked off August with our final major event of the summer, our annual jaunt to the coast. This is our fourth year at Cape May, and we love it as much as ever - plenty of sun, lazing by the ocean, and New Jersey farmstand produce. 


My cooking highlight this year, to make the most of some great local tomatoes, was a MacGyvered focaccia. I made the same basic bread recipe that I always make, then after letting it rise I gave it the focaccia treatment - i.e., spreading it in a baking pan with lots of olive oil, poking dimples in it with my fingers, sprinkling salt on it, and then baking it. It was yummy, and since then I’ve continued to work it into the regular bread rotation. 

This rotation has gotten more regular as August shifted into September, because along with other transitions, I’ve made some changes to my work commitments which I’m hopeful will allow for better balancing of priorities across multiple areas of life. 


I posted a picture of the pillow on the left on Instagram a few weeks ago, describing it as “turning anxiety management (handstitching) into home decor”. Ideally (among other things) I’d like more of the handwork and less of the anxiety.


I'm not quite at this point, but it's something to aspire to. More to come soon, I hope, and that your anxiety is minimal and your contentment maximal in the meantime.




Monday, May 30, 2022

No words

A while back I learned a technique from a counselor: I was struggling to deal with a crisis situation and she asked me to start processing by listing five emotions that I was feeling in that moment. At the end of the session, we revisited that technique, and she recommended it as a tool to help start the process of navigating difficult emotions. It's a tool I've continued to use. So here’s what I’m feeling today, if I try to think about pretty much anything outside my own little sphere:

- anger

- sadness

- despair

- frustration

- fear

I don’t feel able to write anything about everyday events like food or gardening or holiday weekends because it seems so cluelessly trivial in the context of the bigger picture of what I see happening in the US and elsewhere. I know it’s important to stay in the present, in my own reality, and not get swept up into the surging currents of events on social media, and food is one of the ways that I keep my feet on the ground. But right now the luxury of being able to mull over what to make for dinner, or what’s on the schedule for this week, feels like an impertinence; how can normal life for anyone continue in a world where things like these can happen? 

And yet it must. We must not give in to despair, to the forces of darkness. We must take action as we can: Make a donation. Call an elected representative. Hug our loved ones. Hold a thought for those who are devastated. Keep putting one foot in front of the other, remembering that every day that we draw breath on this earth is a privilege and a responsibility. Keep helping each other along.

Donate or take action in your community (US)

Find your members of Congress (US)

Support food as a universal human right (global)

Support humanitarian assistance worldwide (global)


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