It’s hard to think up a subject line all the time…

Every time I try to do something remotely physical (i mean, like bend over to grab a spoon off the floor), my whole belly gets as hard as a rock and I feel like I can barely move for a minute. I don’t really mind except I keep trying to do things, and it’s not really working. Again, and again, and again. I decided that I would update instead of move for the time being.

Feb 2nd:
I swear, she is part cat. This is her sitting on top of the couch to look out a window. She’s perched.

Feb 3rd:
I love it when things unexpectedly bloom in the middle of winter. I think I needed it.

Feb 4th:
Tax time. Need I say more?

I had to include this photo from a few weeks ago that my sister and I took of Tuula. We had turned our backs for a second and she somehow scooted herself into the most hilarious position and she couldn’t get out of it. We just about died, and spend a great deal of time trying to get her to think she was happy while we took photos of her. We are evil people. It’s blurry, but it may be one of my favorite photos EVER. I’m sick. I don’t deny it.

Today was harder than usual. I just really am starting to feel all the work that my body is doing. I am still in good spirits, but I think I’ve been requiring a little too much of myself. It’s just hard when the nesting instinct is full swing, and really I want to lift things and bend and get underneath this and that. Slow down, Grace. Slow…

I watched the movie Boys of Baraka recently. I heartily recommend it. It’s a documentary about these kids from inner-city Baltimore and how they get an opportunity to go to school for a while in Kenya. Super interesting, and Bill Cosby speaks about it at the end and I really like what he says. I want the soundtrack too.

There are so many things that I see in my future. Sometimes I feel like raising a kid will limit me, and sometimes I feel like other people think that about me. I have the friends that tell me how happy they are for me, but then they make a point of saying that they don’t want kids until they are 30, they have “too much to do.” I suppose I shouldn’t compare myself to them. I think there have been many ways in which I “took the road less traveled” and I am happier for it. Why should this be any different? I guess there’s an accountability factor in this endeavor that was not so present in the others. I know that I will grow in innumerable ways because of this child. I mean, how amazing is this opportunity? On the other hand, I do see my limitations. Time constrictions and unrelenting responsibility will be a constant in my life for years to come. I think about this and feel a twinge of anxiety, but then I remember that all of life is exactly what you make of it. I can choose to be relaxed, creative, happy, fulfilled- just as easily as I can choose to be trapped, burdened, invisible. My life will be what I make it.
I think one of the more important things as far as my partnership with Jeff has been the recognition of our individual selves in the context of the unit. We are accountable to each other, we fulfill some of each others’ needs, but we are still ourselves and make a point of valuing and encouraging our individual purpose. I feel like perhaps this will need to be the same way. I can melt into the mother role, but I think I will still need to read, to learn, to spend time with friends, to do other work. I have confidence in my ability to continue my growth no matter where I am. I will also have the great privilege of helping to raise a new person and have a family of my own. This makes me smile every time I imagine it. My sister sent me the following article and I think it’s really nice. Anyway.


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