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Showing posts from January, 2008

My daughter, The Thinker

I've been thinking a lot lately about my childrens' different personalities, and wondering how many of the characteristics they possess now will be carried into their adulthood. I think about the influence we as parents may have on that - and wonder how to strike the balance between shaping and molding the people we would like our children to be and nurturing and incubating the people they already are and are destined to be.
When my oldest son was born, I would look into his eyes and say, "it just seems like he's been here before." He was so observant and quiet, always happy to sit and watch - constantly taking it all in. I was surprised to learn I wasn't just a crazy mother, but there is actually a phrase for this - "old soul." Now he's 7 years old and in many ways, he still has a very "old soul." Incidentally, it looks as if my 5-month old goddaughter does as well. If you've ever made eye contact with one of these children, you kn…

There she is...

Saturday night was a big night for me. It was my own personal Super Bowl night - otherwise known as the Miss America pageant.
(I know what you're thinking. But the Miss America program is the largest single source of scholarship money available to women in this country and I will defend it to my dying day!)
Growing up, I can remember that watching the Miss America pageant was a BIG DEAL. The women were so glamorous and just seemed so elusive and exclusive to me.. the absolute smartest and prettiest women I could imagine all gathered in one place. I'm sure it helped that I was also in love with the local Miss Marigold pageant (we went every year because my dad sponsored contestants) and the Miss America pageant was the natural progression of that. It was at pageants like Miss Marigold  that future Miss America's got their start.
So I guess I've just always been fascinated by pageants in general. I get why critics don't like them, but I've just always seen them diff…

I thought college was over... like 12 years ago!

I just finished writing a story for the paper.It ended up being about 7 pages long (which translates into a LOT of newspaper inches, the editors are going to lovvvveee me...). Seven pages... that's about the average length of the papers I wrote in college. For the record, most stories I write are about 1 page in Word, so that gives you some perspective. This particular story has to do with election coverage so of course it's important and really does require more time and space. But man, I hope somebody (other than the candidates) reads it! :)


One time several months ago, I visited my goddaughter's grave with her mother, my best friend Tammy. For anyone who does not know, my goddaughter Natalee died unexpectedly - and to this day for reasons we really don't know - at birth.
It was a sunny, warm day and after we visited Natalee's grave we took some time to walk around and study the other gravesites in that cemetery. It's a nature preserve too and a beautiful place, and we were struck again and again by the sad stories that seemed to surround us. There are a number of young children buried near Natalee and many of their gravesites were decorated with various items.
We were both struck by the universality of grief. While we were ourselves struggling still, it was a stark reminder that we are not alone and that ultimately, grief is one of the few things we humans have in common.
I've been struggling with how to write this entry all day, but I'm reminded of that day in the cemetery again today as I watch tri…


So how ironic is this?The morning after I start a new blog about slowing down in my life, my son almost misses the bus for the first time ever! Of course, I want to point out that we were following our normal morning schedule. The bus driver (who kept us waiting outside in the cold when she was almost 10 minutes late just two days ago) actually got here about a minute before we normally head outside. And for some reason, my son had left his coat and hat in his room upstairs - something he normally does not do. So the bus driver waited and then impatiently honked the horn, while my 7-year old struggled out the door and through the snow still trying to get his coat on and get it all together. I'm not sure he was even fully awake yet. Ah yes - he's getting to be more and more like an adult every day!

My new Blog

I do not have a quiet mind.
I've known this for a long time, but I only recently found the words to express it in a book I'm reading called "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert.
It's a fantastic book about a woman's voyage through self-discovery after reaching a crisis point in her life. On the surface, I don't appear to have much in common with this woman. Her marriage fell apart, she has no children, she is much better paid as a professional writer than I will ever be.
But the more of her book I read, the more I realize we do have in common. Maybe it's part of being human, maybe it's part of being a woman. Whatever it is, I find that I'm in no hurry to keep reading her book. Either the truth hits too close to home, or I'm afraid no other author has tapped into "me" like she has and when I'm done reading her book, I'll be alone again.
In any case, one of the things that most resonated with me is her description of her busy…