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:

Talking and Writing About Racism

How do I talk about our country's deep racism with my son? How do I write about it in my poems? I certainly don't have all the answers, but I know that I need to address it now, starting when he is young and now, in all of my poems. There are too many tragedies continuing in our country and sometimes led by young people. Racism will not die out with older generations, nor will my generation's "color blind" education work.

The subject can't be ignored until my son is "old enough." He sees and hears things and is always growing and being shaped by his world. He witnesses my actions, hears my words and plays with a community of friends at daycare and on the playground. That is all to say that we live in America.

I've been editing a poem that directly addresses race and recent events. But I realize that's the wrong approach. Even when I'm not writing about race, race is implied and present. We can't not talk and write about it.

Here were some insightful  articles on the issue of talking with your kids about race and racism from the Atlantic, Slate and PBS.

Keep a Notebook

"The impulse to write things down is a peculiarly compulsive one, inexplicable to those who do not share it, useful only accidentally, only secondarily, in the way that any compulsion tries to justify itself." - Joan Didion's On Keeping a Notebook

I continue to teach Joan Didion's short essay, "On Keeping a Notebook," in writing classes because I myself return to it. We writers find ourselves scribbling down notes - observations, images, thoughts - because we must. There's something we want to understand or remember for later. Sometimes we remember the context, sometimes we don't even remember the moment. But the process of writing something down is dear to us. 

Didion describes us: "Keepers of private notebooks are a different breed altogether, lonely and resistant rearrangers of things, anxious malcontents, children afflicted apparently at birth with some presentiment of loss."  Do we write what we want to remember, save for later, or relive? We don't necessarily write what happened; this kind of notebook isn't a diary. There could be a color or a sentiment we want to remember and, perhaps, write into another context.

My son is two years old and scribbling with whatever he can find: my pen over the grocery list from the perch of the shopping cart or a crayon on mail or that (damn!) toy's tail that leaves marks on the wall. What is he thinking? Does he want to simply fill in the space or is he preserving ideas? (According to the pediatrician, he's strengthening his small hand muscles.)

I bought him a small wire bound notebook. He's filled most of the pages or, at least, the pages he hasn't torn out. I keep it in my purse to fill the time or save my own pen and notebook when I'm trying to write.

I wonder what he'll write once he learns to write the alphabet, then words and then organizes the words into sentences and paragraphs.

Read Didion's full essay here. 

Favorite Alphabet Books for Kids

One great joy of motherhood has been reading to our son. Here are some favorite alphabet books that we return to often:

Alphablock by Christopher Franceschelli 

Harry N. Abrams; Brdbk edition (August 6, 2013)

This board book includes sturdy cut out letters hiding surprises on the next page. Pages are easy to turn, even by little fingers. The bright, cheery designs are inviting and informative. My favorite one is "X": a cut out X for X-Ray that reveals the bones in a hand on the opposite page.

Rad American Women A-Z: Rebels, Trailblazers, and Visionaries who Shaped Our History . . . and Our Future! by Kate Schatz 

City Lights Publishers (March 23, 2015)

This new alphabet book is bold in every way: design and content. Great black and white drawings of strong women on brightly colored pages. Across from each drawing is a page-long biography of the highlighted woman to teach older readers history, while encouraging their own futures. An inspiration.

Paul Thurlby's Alphabet by Paul Thurlby

Templar (October 11, 2011)

Each page of this beautiful, retro-inspired book integrates a letter of the alphabet into a design. My favorite is "N" for newspapers, created by cut outs from the New York Times. The colors, faces and variety make the letters memorable for our littlest reader, too. 

Take Care of Mamma

Author, agent and teacher Cynthia Blair Kane is an inspiration. We were talking about balancing work, life and writing and she said fervently, "Yes! You must take care of yourself. 100% and First." And she's right. If I'm overwhelmed and destroyed by exhaustion, how will I be able to do anything well, including care for my son?

That's not always easy. How is there time to rest (or money to hire babysitters), let alone do all of the things that urgently need to be done? I can put off laundry for a few days, but I can't put off buying food to feed my son meals and snacks.

I don't know what the key is, but I know we each need to be frank with ourselves and our partners. We are all going to make small and big mistakes regularly, but that doesn't mean that all is lost (even if it feels like it through exhausted tears.) Check in with your partner, see what s/he needs and ask for what you need. Be specific. If you don't know what you need but you know you need something, say that. Say what feels real and take care of yourself.

These beginning years are hard. Really, really hard. I'm reminded, though, when teaching memoir writing workshops that journaling can help, too. Many of my students have well-documented pasts in letters, journals and diaries that they kept. Sure, the diaries tend to be fairly emotional, but they help to reminder the writers who they were and how they made it through. This is helpful for your own emotional development, as well as future writing (if you choose to work on that original material.)

Not all writing is or needs to be public. You can write for yourself to keep yourself even-keeled and healthy. Check out Cynthia's website for her recent articles on living well. You might also find this Huffington Post article 6 Unexpected Ways Writing Can Transform Your Health interesting. 

Nope, My Son Isn't Flirting

My son was eating a blueberry pancake in a cafeteria when a woman in scrubs walked by. They smiled at each other and then he started to cough. She joked, "Oh, wow. You're so handsome. It's been so long since a man has been choked up by my beauty."

I responded to my son, "At least there are nurses and doctors around while you're choking, amore." Since he quickly stopped coughing and returned to picking the blueberries out of the pancakes, it seemed like an appropriate response to an inappropriate comment. We all returned to our breakfast and the strange woman walked away.

This isn't the first time someone has said something like this. My son, at 15 months old and for many months and years ahead, isn't flirting, "making eyes," or doing anything sexual towards the opposite and/or same sex. He's playing and learning. He's slowly developing a sense of his physical and emotional self, as well as his gender and sexuality. His relationships, both casual and close, as well as the language we use to describe them, matter as his foundations for the future are formed. 

Let's teach our children that they can have appropriate friendships with all ages, genders, races, religions and classes. There's no need to sexualize a child, even through jokes. The words we use and our actions teach messages to children of all ages. 

For more, visit Understanding Early Sexual Development from KidsHealth and the Mayo Clinic's article Sex education: Talking to toddlers and preschoolers about sex. For older kids and adults, I recommend Jane Bogart's book Sexploration. 

Flexibility

Making time to play and explore

I'm not that flexible. I can barely touch my toes anymore and I hate to leave a mess in the sink. This lifestyle doesn't describe parenting, which consists of many unplanned and messy moments.

Parenthood requires you to make a plan (naps, feedings, playdates), but then change it as necessary, which is more often than I ever imagined. There is always work, housework and other things to do, but if baby needs you, he needs you. Writing is the same.

Sometimes I feel creative and produce new poems. Light, images, words and flavors inspire metaphors and connections. Other times I feel more definitive and can edit, cut and organize my writing. Long stretches of uninterrupted time serve both approaches well.

Time, let alone long stretches of uninterrupted time, don't generally exist for me anymore. And the list of things to do is longer than ever.

I'm learning to take deep breaths, let my shoulders relax and try to juggle the joys, work and sudden emergencies. By trying to be more flexible and respond to what's happening in that moment, there have been discoveries - an impromptu fort with a blanket over out of place chairs or a sorting game based on tossed washcloths on the floor.

The same can happen with poems - the hot sun is behind clouds and it is a perfect opportunity to go out for a walk, regardless of the state of the (particularly dirty) laundry. Look how the sunlight peeks through the clouds and a deer walks across the sidewalk towards the park. And look at how my son notices the shadows, too, as he moves his hand around in the air and watches the sidewalk shadows.

You never know what happens, but it won't happen if you only follow your prescribed plans.

I need to keep remembering that. 

Blogging @ Minerva Rising

Minerva Rising Literary Journal kindly published three of my miscarriage poems in their recent Mothers issue. This lovely journal "celebrates the creativity and wisdom in every woman" and I'm proud to be blogging for them monthly in 2014. In conjunction with writing and editing my new manuscript about miscarriage, pregnancy and motherhood, Carried, I'll be blogging about writing as a mother.

The first post, Poetry Maker Mommy, went live yesterday. With its title taken from the song Parents are People" from the classic Free to Be You And Me album, I share my guidelines for writing about the bambino.

I hope you'll spend some time on the journal's website and read some of their posted work and subscribe. 

Emily Nichols Grossi on Blogging, Motherhood & Food

Thank you to Emily Nichols Grossi for today’s post about writing regularly as a mother. Emily was a student in a recent memoir writing workshop I taught at Politics & Prose bookstore. I was struck by her attention to sensory details and enthusiasm. I’m excited to have the opportunity to share her thoughts with you today.

Emily Nichols Grossi is a Louisiana native who has happily called DC her home since 2007. A stay-at-home mother of two young sons, Emily also writes the blog, Em-i-lis,, teaches canning and preservation classes throughout the DC-area, runs Em-i-lis Catering, is an avid school volunteer and is working on a memoir.

Blogging, Motherhood & Food by Emily Nichols Grossi

It began over shallow bowls of steaming pasta tossed with wilted greens and mascarpone.

Actually, it was born months earlier when I told my friend, Shawn, how I'd informed the manager at Jack Falstaff's, a now-shuttered restaurant in San Francisco, that his crab cakes were utterly sub-par. "Shawn, never waste a dining experience by going to Falstaff's!" I implored. He laughed so hard I thought hyperventilation was nigh, and after recovering he told me for the umpteenth time that I simply must write about food. "Doll, you talk about food with such gravitas, like it's the most important thing in the world."

"How can I do this?" I asked my husband, Tom, as we grated cheese over our bowls of glistening pasta. My youngest son was about to turn two, and I craved an intellectual endeavor to enliven my days. I was happy as a stay-at-home mother but desperately wanted to carve out time to pursue the interests I'd put on hold. Tom suggested blogging.

I was a blog virgin at that point but quickly realized that it would be a terrifically workable format for me: short posts written when I had time. I decided early on that authenticity would be my mantra.  As such, I am frank and share my successes as well as my mishaps. I often write about all things food-related, but as the boys grow, I find myself writing more and more about motherhood too. My byline says it all: musings from a servantless, stay-at-home, cooking-obsessed mom.

Since I started Em-i-lis almost three years ago, I've managed to work lots of writing into stolen moments in and around naptimes, school drop-offs and pick-ups, trips to the pediatrician, potty training and playdates. I am proud to have written every day but three and have felt enormously fulfilled in doing so.

People often ask me why I write so regularly and with such candor. I wouldn't make the time if I didn't love it, didn't feel I simply must get X, Y or Z down in words. Certainly, the love of the craft is part of the why. But I've also found that there is something profoundly illuminative about committing words to page.

Through Em-i-lis, I have come to know myself much more thoroughly. I have found a confidence and a voice and a sense-of-self I'd long sought. I have recorded innumerable, quotidian details of my sons' lives that otherwise I would surely have forgotten. I have become a really good cook. I have met and reconnected with incredible people, and I have realized how honesty and openness can forge the most wonderful ties with them.

Be sure to click through to visit Em-i-lis!

Feminist Halloween It Was: Yoda in D.C.

Star Wars family

Feminism and personal history came up the other day in a memoir writing workshop I'm teaching at Politics and Prose bookstore. Some of the women are writing about the contrast between their mothers' risks, their own wider opportunities and their granddaughter's even wider choices. Halloween brings some of these issues to light for our nuclear family.

I feel quite aware of my own opportunities and choices I make as one of two primary role models for our son. There are some easy decisions, like keeping my "maiden" name, and bigger ones, like continuing to work as a new mamma and sharing household tasks with my husband, who works full-time. Leading up to Halloween, there was our bambino's costume to consider.

Choosing a Halloween costume for our infant son, who can't yet show an interest in choosing his own outfit of course, feels less daunting than it might be for a little girl. There are more "boy" costumes that represent a strong, intelligent and, hopefully, kind character or role. There are less frilly and troubling princess costumes and more work-related or super hero costumes for boys. Of course, at this age, babies barely have gender, so really, this shouldn't even be an issue. But it is.

As a little girl, there were times I enjoyed dressing up in shiny, frilly outfits. But I also helped my mom on photo shoots and later in the office filing her images and documents. I sometimes went to work with my dad and saw him meet with clients in his law office. With each parent owning a business, more than one day a year was "bring your daughter to work day."I hope our son, as he grows, is free to try out various more traditionally masculine roles, as well as traditionally feminine. What we don't want to do is force a particular definition upon him. 

Our bambino was dressed as a thoughtful Yoda for Halloween (and earlier in the day, since so many infant clothes are like Halloween outfits, he was Chewbacca and R2D2), and his parents were Princess Leia and Luke Skywalker. In the morning, he chatted with me, in baby-Chewbacca fashion, while I frosted homemade Halloween cupcakes and later as I sat at the computer (attempting) to write a Halloween poem. He saw his mamma doing a little bit of traditional work in the kitchen, which she loves to do, and professional, creative work, too. While she was dressed as princess that evening, she was the kind who couldn't have saved anyone with crinoline under her skirts.

Shannon Brugh gets it right in Raising Feminist Sons,

Before my first son was even born, I remember screaming in half-seriousness, “Don’t put my kid in a gender box!!” I was looking around at all the sweet baby clothes—boys in blue, girls in pink—and wondering why it had to be that way. From birth children are told what is for them and what is not—based exclusively on their gender. Puppies for boys, kitties for girls. Trucks and foot/base/soccer balls for boys, dollies and bows and hearts for girls. It was near impossible to find gender neutral (or at least, not gender obnoxious) items for the baby growing in my belly. Before I knew the sex of my baby, people dreamed about my potential girl and the tea parties and dress up we would play. They dreamed about playing in the mud and rough-and-tumble with my possible boy. But never did those two paths cross. What if my son wanted to play tea party and wear a feather boa? What if my little girl wanted to play flag football and never wore dresses? Why would one of these be celebrated and one be whispered about? The whole thing made me insane. Why is it that so many things are already decided on behalf of our kids simply because of an X or a Y chromosome? And, more importantly, can we change that?

Everyday Feminism offers a Framework for Feminist Parenting that includes things like, "respect for choices, gender and sexuality," as well as concrete examples. Now, if only we could all be on the same page and simply call this "parenting." Maybe our grandchildren won't need the word "feminist." If a little girl chooses to be a princess, great. If a little boy chooses to be a warrior, great. It is the parents' job to make sure that these are choices, rather than decisions made for them based on traditional expectations. 

I love how teaching memoir, and my students' life stories, offer some context and questions to my days and our lives. 

Stay tuned as spring semester memoir writing classes open for registration at Politics and Prose bookstore! 

Thanks to Alanna Michelle on Etsy for the fabulous Yoda hat and robe!

Yoga One Year Later

Thanks, Yoga District, for inexpensive and "gentle" yoga in our neighborhood

I did it. After over a year, I returned to a yoga class. A "gentle" yoga class. Pregnant, I had tried following prenatal yoga DVDs, but I gave up after quickly feeling (even more) nauseous.

I had been taking yoga classes on and off for the last four years. The regular stretching and exercise helped to center me physically and mentally. Yoga helped me when I was grieving and trying to return to my body after witnessing death. I finally found the courage to attend a class hoping that the movements would connect me to this new body of mine.

Pregnant, miscarrying, pregnant again, giving birth and now nursing, my body has changed a lot these last two years. Sometimes my cesarean scar feels like a warrior's mark. Often my stomach just feels flabby. I don't exactly fit into my old clothes even if I've technically lost the pregnancy weight.

By starting to exercise again, I hope that I can both look even better than my old self, even if that's vain and shouldn't matter, and feel stronger. I don't get as winded as I did when I was pregnant, but I haven't  yet built up my muscles.

I love to take walks and carry the bambino in the carrier, but now that he's grown so much, it is harder to keep up any kind of speed. His legs dangle down and he tends to push against my thighs as I walk, too. (I guess that's a fun game for one of us.)

The "boys" in my life have been models on how to strengthen a body. After serious training, my husband ran the Chicago marathon. My son is now practicing holding his head up, sitting up and standing. I'm hoping to join my husband in modeling good, healthy behavior towards physical activity for our son as he learns to crawl, walk and then run. And he might even join me in doing a downward facing dog one day.

Four Month Birthday!

Asleep during a walk in the carrier

Our son recently celebrated his four month birthday. Like every parent, I'm amazed at how quickly he's grown and changed. And I'm still amazed that I'm his mamma.

He's now smiling, laughing, vocalizing new vowel and consonant sounds, sitting up with assistance, and, it seems, starting to teeth. He's gone through a few diaper sizes and is now wearing size 6 month clothing.

Sometimes he sleeps through the night, and sometimes he doesn't, but a general routine is starting to emerge. We are becoming better parents as we get to know him and he's calmer as he continues to learn about the world around him.

Our bambino is starting to pay more attention to books when we read to him and he likes to look at clear patterns. He loves to pump his legs in a rocking chair. His eyes and head follow us when we move around a room and he smiles when we lean close. He's already showing some preference for certain toys, books and songs; he cries when he hears me read Shel Silverstein books. Our bambino also shows preference for his right hand when he reaches and grabs objects (or hair.)

I didn't know what to expect and I did my best to make plans and listen to sage advice. Our baby is thriving and our family is happy and making it through, even if there are some tired and stressed out moments in between. My sense of time has completely changed and I'm still writing.

I love hearing him "talk" and going for walks with him close in the carrier. When it is just the two of us, I chat with him in Italian about everything we see and things we might do together, as well as things I've done. He's attentive, at least until he falls asleep from the rocking motion.

I'd say this new adventure is going as it is supposed to be. I look forward to all of the months and years ahead.

Happy four month birthday, mio bambino!

Multi-tasking and Ignoring the Clock

Beach living... 

I can't stop thinking about the nature of parent-time. I'm writing this blog post crunched in the corner of the guest bed in my son's room. He fell asleep sprawled on the bed while nursing and so I pulled out my laptop to read student essays. If I move him into the crib, he'll wake up. This is a partially selfish move (I can do some work if he sleeps) and partially thoughtful move (infants need a lot of sleep, so why interrupt his?) Meanwhile, the bottom half of my body is numb and my wrists hurt as I type in this position.

Parenthood is multi-tasking to the extreme. There are things I need, he needs, my relationship with my husband needs, the household needs and my many p/t jobs and volunteer work need. Meanwhile there are the sudden needs, like car trouble or an ant infestation. There are emails, phone calls, knocks on the door and errands to run. There are poop explosions to clean up and balanced meals to prepare and Breaking Bad to watch. There's also sleep and laundry to tend to, but if I keep listing everything that needs to get done, I might instead make a list of what to pack so I can run away to live on an island beach, alone and without any of these many needs. 

But I know that on the island, after a few nights of good sleep, I'd be lonely. I can't imagine life without my son or my husband or this career that I've carved out for myself. I don't want to have to choose. Maybe if we could all live on the beach... 

And so realistically, here I am on this guest bed, hoping I can stand on my numb legs when the baby stirs. Weekends, nights, mornings - it doesn't matter what day of the week it is or what time it is. Every day offers some random hours to get something done in the few moments that present themselves. 

Each day also offers time to notice how our son arches his back to stretch and throws his arms up over his head, as if to celebrate a victory. And how he smiles when he sees one of us right there to welcome him to this new, beautiful day. 

Time

Visiting the National Cathedral for a sunset bell recital

My sense of time has completely changed. When we are rushing to refill the diaper bag so we can leave the house, time zooms by. When it is the middle of the night and the bambino is crying, time stands still. 

I find myself both trying to carve out time and making the best of available time. When the bambino starts to vocalize sounds that will become words one day, everything else is put on hold. When I have a few hours to work, I settle right into the project and try to be as efficient as possible. No more breaks scrolling through Facebook statuses if I need to get through a pile of grading. 

Or rather, I do the best that I can. That's all any of us can do, right? 

Speaking of which, I should run. Until next time!

Another Transition: Fall Semester Starts Today, Sort Of

This morning my husband left for work; the bambino 

and I left for a walk before I settled down to do some 

work today while the babysitter watches him. 

(He's sleeping in the Ergo Carrier here.) 

In April, I blogged for Poet’s Guide to Motherhood about my plans to work, mother and write after the baby. When he was about a month and a half old, we felt like we’d settled into a routine that worked well for us. My husband and I were both working p/t from home. Today my husband goes back to working – at work.  And my p/t gigs will be back to a full-time schedule. I’m excited and a little nervous about the uptick in activities.

This summer I taught fewer online classes and paused my in-person classes and consulting appointments. As for my writing, I kept up a regular writing routine and I even gave a reading and submitted some poems (looking forward to new poems coming out this Oct.!) Even if it is stressful at times, I’m enjoying being a working mom.

This fall I’ll be back to a full schedule, including online teaching college-level classes, writing coach appointments, and in-person classes at Politics and Prose bookstore. And of course there’s the work of being a poet.

Was it smart to keep working? Is it smart to continue? Yes! Most days I can't imagine it any other way. 

Of course, the first few weeks were very, very difficult. The three of us had a lot to learn and we were all exhausted and I was recovering from a C-section. It was hard to think about work, let alone lunch and laundry. Some days I was pretty convinced that the naysayers about a possible work-life balance were right. Between the tears and fretful naps where I dreamed about my baby being lost, I made coffee and cursed everything.

After a few weeks, though, it felt really good to have parts of my “old life” still active. We all become a little more skilled at our roles (us as parents and the bambino as a bambino) and I especially appreciated the opportunity to think about non-poop oriented things. Since I teach online, I am flexible about where and when I work, which made it possible to balance so many things. Plus, my university professor husband could easily co-parent from home with me through the summer, so I wasn’t alone. We also had some babysitters throughout the summer for extra help.

Our routine changes today. My husband went to work right after breakfast this morning. While my semesters start a few weeks later, I am preparing for them and still teaching later start summer classes.

After interviewing about fifteen babysitters, we’ve settled on a few we trust to care regularly for our son while I am in the next room working. With a clear schedule of who works when, we’re ready for the transition.

And we’re ready to tweak it as things inevitably continue to change.