Thinking of Peace

Humans continue to hurt each other. Why? How come? These are hard questions that I won't pretend to know the answers to. 

It is devastating. 

For now, I return to the poem Revenge by late Palestinian poet Taha Muhammad Ali, translated by Peter Cole, Yahya Hijazi and Gabriel Levin. I often think of this reading from the Dodge Poetry Festival in 2006. Perhaps one day it will no longer be relevant. You can also watch it here. 

For more poems, read through Split this Rock's database of social justice poetry. 

Moving House

We did it! We moved with an energetic toddler. I was pretty sure it would be impossible, but it happened. We are still working on a lot of things, but our belongings are in this home with us and we successfully sleep and eat here every day.

Well, the move happened a few weeks ago. Now you can understand the relative blog-silence this month.

Do I have advice for parent writers moving with kids? Here's the best I've got: Things will go wrong, like with any move (or really, anything). When they did for us, I tried to think, "here it is! One of the things that will go wrong. Now, let's try to solve the problem." At least I tried my best to take that approach. My husband and I kept saying, "We will laugh about this later. Right? Right?"

We hired movers for the first time, which was an enormous help, except that they arrived late, one of them likely drank some of our beer (before I carried it to the new place myself) and finished much, much later than promised.

In the midst of boxes and a toddler who had worn himself out with excitement over the moving truck, we ordered Chinese food that arrived hours late. In the meanwhile, we ate cheesecake on the floor in the new kitchen. Our toddler loved it. He still points at the floor and says, "we eat on the floor! Cheesecake!"

So, with his refrain in mind, we decided to consider the move a success.

We are waiting to have some work done on the new place, including building a gigantic bookcase for all of our books - my poetry, my husband's political science, with some fiction, nonfiction, comics, cookbooks, Italian literature, travel and art history books thrown in. We really can't wait. Studies show that books in a house will help a child learn to read and explore. Also, we love our books.

Leading up to and after the move, the teachers at our son's daycare were very supportive. In fact, one day they dedicated story time to a book about moving homes just for our bambino. He really appreciated it and seemed to recognize his own experience among pictures of boxes. For a list of books for toddlers and preschoolers about moving, check out this page on Stir the Wonder.

For adult thoughts on moving, check out David Ebenbach's beautiful collection of poetry, We Were the People Who Moved.

I've drafted a few poems about moving, but mostly I'm still focused on unpacking, organizing, fixing things and keeping up with the classes I'm teaching. This isn't a fertile writing time, but it is a cleaning up and out time, which feels good.

M is for Mamma

Our bambino has started to point out letters. He can find the letter "O," one of our nicknames for him, on stop signs as we drive to daycare. We've started to add in "M" for Mamma and "D" for Daddy. He can mostly sing the ABC song - while humming the parts he forgets the same way I sing most popular songs.

These are the first building blocks to reading and writing. I'm so tickled to be a part of his journey. As for adding more letters to find in his surroundings, he's been taken with this recent library book find:

Writerly Tattoo? No, C-Section Scar

I've always wanted a tattoo. At each milestone, starting with moving abroad in 1996, I'd look for the perfect physical reminder to commemorate the moment. Like most things we search for, I realized later that I already have it: my c-section scar.

A friend on Facebook posted that she wanted to get a tattoo of a typewriter. That sounded perfect for this Woman Mother Writer. I've always been held back, though, by the pain of getting the tattoo and the likelihood of being allergic to the ink, since I've always been quite the allergy-prone girl. So I pushed the thought aside.

Then I remembered that I do have physical reminders of one particular achievement. In addition to the scars and calluses from living life, I have a cesarean section scar from giving birth. That thick line across my abdomen that pauses and then starts up as a thin line before fading away was our son's entry point into our dry world.

When I see our bambino, over two years old and his own person, I don't always remember the fact that I carried him. But the c-section scar is my private reminder of the moment our son emerged, squinting in the bright light and listening for our voices.

With time, the scar reminds me less of the difficulty of pregnancy, childbirth and the postpartum depression I suffered afterwards, but rather the achievements my family has made together. Time allows us to grow and shift as individuals and a family unit, rather than forget or live alone in the past.

Did you recently have a c-section? Here is helpful advice from the Mayo Clinic about how to care for yourself after the surgery. You might also enjoy this article from Fit Pregnancy about your scar.

Poetry in the Air: Wedding Poetry Ornaments

photo by Susan Brennan

A dear friend asked me to help create "poetry ornaments" to hang on the trees outside her Austin wedding ceremony this weekend. She emailed her friends and invited them to submit poems, original or written by someone else. My mom and I printed them on heavy card stock, punched a hole in the corners and then another friend hung them up the day of the wedding with blue ribbon. Additional poems were spread on the dinner tables inside the tent.

The end result was beautiful. Poetry was in the air, blowing in the breeze, and feeding us. Guests stopped to read the poems in groups and alone.

Some of the friends who submitted poems wrote original poetry for the brides. What a tribute to a beautiful couple starting this new journey surrounded by love, family, friends and poetry.

Here are a few of my favorites from the published poems chosen by friends:
Jane Hirshfield's A Blessing for Wedding
Audre Lorde's Recreation
Li-Young Lee's The Weight of Sweetness
Michael Ondaatje's Cinnamon Peeler

What are your favorite poems celebrating love? 

"No!" to make room for "Yes!"

Our son, like most toddlers, loves the word, "no." He loves to shout, whisper, repeat and sing, "NOOOO!"

We Woman Mother Writers should probably say, "no" more often ourselves. We can't do everything. None of us wears a cape (at least not to work), we can't fly nor can we stop or otherwise manipulate time. That's all to say that we aren't superheroes and we have limits.

Sometimes we shouldn't take on that extra job (looking at you freelancers and adjuncts.) Sometimes we need to stay home to catch up on laundry and wash our hair. And "wash our hair" is not a euphemism; you know how hard it can be to find time to shower sometimes.

Saying, "no," will give us space to regroup and say, "yes" to ourselves and our kids. In the new children's book Wait by Antoinette Portis, a busy mom trying to hurry her child is reminded to "wait" by her curious son. By slowing down, essentially saying, "no" to her busy go-go-go life, they are rewarded by experiencing their surroundings.


Read more about Wait's author, Antoinette Portis, on her author page and a review of the book on Publisher's Weekly.

I first read about Wait and other children's books in Jessica Ralli's piece, Stories that Help Us Stop For a Minute. Click through to read all of her recommendations.

New Daycare Success!

Our son has been at a new daycare for about a month and a half. Its been a relief that he's (usually) excited to go in the morning and wants to stay in the late afternoon. We've found ourselves immediately able to trust the new teachers and learn from them, too.

I was worried about packing his lunch for the first time and remembering the new, seemingly complicated routine. We quickly got acclimated and we're happy to report that he's been eating the packed lunches. Of course I still worry about everything (like, if he eats 100% of his lunch, does that mean I didn't pack enough?)

The first few weeks were a little tricky as our son became comfortable with the new people and environment. And then the daycare was closed for a week for cleaning, which made the return yet another transition.  But now we're there for good, or at least a few years. It is a relief to know that he's safe and the teachers there are taking good care of him.

Phew. Onto the next transition(s).