Pregnancy and the gestation of Self

Pregnant with my child, I am pregnant with myself, past and present
Giving birth to my child, I birth a new reason to become what I am, only better, more complete
Raising my child I am challenged to acknowledge that my child is teacher, even though our roles as parent and child shall not be confused
Honoring my selves and becoming a Self dancing with God, I learn to honor my children
Daily I fall Daily I grow Daily I follow the One who brings wholeness and inspires holiness
Learning to love more completely, I touch Her Sacred Womb
My child will be born; I will hold her and gaze into her wondrous eyes
Embracing her with all that I am, together with all that am not
I will make a promise that I can only keep in part
And my child and I will continue gestating together our whole lives, birthing and rebirthing, dying and being reborn in the dance of our life together, held together in the life of God.
I was knit together in my Mother's womb, and I did not know the knitter
Now I comprehend that the knitter is Mother and I know Her, for She creates me anew

Shrink

I started seeing a psychologist and she told me I need to love my inner child. How cheesey is that? Anyway, it quickly became apparent that I totally wish my inner child would just grow up or go away, that I don't have patience, or even compassion with her at all, and that I am quite mean to her. The worst part, is when I hear myself say brutal things to her, I crack up. It sounds funny; I am cold. I know what she's been through and I just want her to leave me alone. She is the stranger in my midst, the enemy only because she is a victim, and I shrink away heartlessly, like a grumpy old scrooge; I don't want to go to that place; wish she'd leave me alone.

Damn, she is me. Well, part of me anyway. Truthfully, I've never done well with obligatory relationships, meaning any relationship I got stuck with for one reason or another that I didn't really choose with my eyes wide open. Gosh, I certainly didn't ask for an inner child! I have three actual physical children, a husband and a life! See, I am not nice to her; not welcoming. This week I am supposed to find pictures of me as a kid. Will they awaken in me compassion for her?

The thing is, I thought she was dead. I thought I had made peace with the crap she had been through, thanked her for getting me here, and said goodbye. I wanted it to be over, like the grandmother who is suffering in the ICU and her family is suffering to, and everyone is ready for her to die, even though of course it is all very sad. And it turns out my inner child wants to LIVE? She wants me to love her?

The Beauty of Children...appreciated sometimes best when sleeping

Some thoughts occurred to me today:

1. (While the children were still awake) Wouldn't it be nice if we could safely cryogenically freeze our children for a moment or an hour at a time?

2. (While the children were asleep) Aren't children beautiful when asleep?

3. (While the children were still asleep) Alright, children are also magnificent beings when awake

I hope I can remember that when I wake up tomorrow and the children are being their magnificent (not to be mistaken for mild) selves again!

Let's shoot with love, not guns. And until all people love perfectly and with self-control all the time, let's keep guns off the street

'He who lives by the gun will die by the gun." ~ A (slight) paraphrase of our Lord.

Baby Gender

When my daughter was a baby, plenty of people thought she was a boy. A college professor saw her on a day she was dressed in hot pink and effused, "What a beautiful boy!"

With my son, "plenty of people" mistaking his gender seems to include who's never seen his penis. Which, by the way, is fairly generous for a baby.

There were at least five instances of "mistaken baby gender" that were verbalized to me at Border's today. By far the funniest was a kind, middle aged African American man kneeling in the sci-fi section, talking on his cell phone. Gabe was toddling toward him and the man started speaking into his cell: "You'll never believe what I'm looking at: The most beautiful baby girl is walking towards me, and she's wearing a red snowsuit, with dinasaurs! And now she's smiling at me!"

Luckly, I am a woman with a sense of humor, and I would much rather have a slightly effeminate looking little boy with gorgeous lashes and abundant hair and a sweet personality than a man's man baby ready to beat the shit out of the other toddlers. But a statistic of 100% of strangers mistaking a child's gender without even hesitating?

There's a positive side to the fact that it doesn't matter whether I dress the boy in blue overalls with trains or a pink and purple butterfly suit: Maybe our culture is becoming less entrenched in gender stereotypes when it comes to baby clothes?

And what's more, new studies show that the younger generation of women actually prefer men with more feminine features, theoretically because it implies a man who will be a partner, rather than mere meat-winner. Which reminds me to mention that I just read on Brethren Priestess's blog that the meat industry does more global warming damage that smelly trucks and SUV drivers. Surprising, isn't it?

So whatever your gender, or whatever people think it is, go have a veggie burger for me, okay? And be well and happy with who you are.

My Week in Gratitude

1. My son is getting over his cold

2. My relationship with my daughter has come a long way and is becoming more beautiful and connected, thanks in part to Julie's recommendation of Playful Parenting.

3. I am learning how to deal with conflict better by bringing up issues forthrightly, but without being overly visceral (this used to be an either/or thing for me.)

4. My husband was a total sport about having a vasectomy on his birthday.

5. I got a new headband that's simple and cute.

6. I live near a whole foods and a trader joes.

7. God might actually love me.