Portrait of a Lady

No, this blog will not be a review of Henry James’ classic novel but a portrait of my little lady, Mira. Children grow up so fast. Yes, it’s a cliché statement, but for a reason. This commonplace thought is something every parent will have creeping into their heads exponentially as their children grow. Mira is already over 18 months old. It’s such a fun ‘hands-on’ age- a running, giggly, energetic, topsy-turvy age that leaves me breathless. Sure the temper tantrums and increased vocal strength can really be draining but the giggles and reciprocated affection more than make up for it.

I came across some of Mira’s baby pictures from the day she was born. And by that I mean I actually stopped and looked at the framed pictures we have around the house; the pictures that have been there every day for the past 18 months but are easily overlooked when the object of those pictures is keeping me busy chasing her around the house. I sighed when I saw the tiny infant depicted in those dusty frames. It’s rewarding and sadly nostalgic all at once. I’m having so much fun with Mira at this age; yet, where did my infant go? She grew up when I wasn’t looking- or maybe it was that I was looking too hard. But where nostalgia runs thin pride fills in. My daughter gives me so much joy. {And yes, frustration at times too- I am the mother of a toddler after all!} Howard and I have such an amazing little girl that I would like to share a bit of her with you.

Mira is talking and forming short sentences now. She says “I love you”, “Where are you?”, and her new favorite- “COME HERE!” to name a few. She’ll add nouns to these phrases to get our attention. One of her funniest candid connections came at a local Italian restaurant where, after a bite of pizza, she lovingly stated “I love you cheese” without any prompting. She’ll also scream for me if I happen to be on the opposite side of the house. “MOMMY WHERE ARRRRRE YOU?” She repeats EVERYTHING she hears, so you really have to be conscious of EVERY freaking word that comes out of your mouth!!! {I am trying to hammer this fact into Howard.} She loves to wrestle with her daddy and thinks it’s hysterical to try and stick her finger up his nose. She loves to “surf”; which means Howard, Bob, and I have to be prepared to have her balancing on our backs when we lay on the living room floor. She has her Uncle Bob wrapped around her finger. So much so that the moment he comes home from work she has him trained to do her bidding. Ice cream, fruit, a walk outside- you name it, it’s like she can transmit her wants to him telepathically. She doesn’t even have to use her words or sign language- she’ll just grunt her demands and he hastens forward.

She is still learning and using sign language with almost as much speed as her vocal skills. She cracks me up by asking (both verbally and by signing) for ice cream first thing in the morning. I made the mistake of caving to this request once because she was just so damn cute about it, and now knowing I gave in once, she asks me without fail every morning. I suppose this could also be a consequence of having consumed 15,000 gallons of mint chocolate chip while pregnant with her.

She explores and investigates everything with intense curiosity. Zoos, parks, beaches, and museums are so much more intriguing through her eyes. It forces me to appreciate everything anew. The main thing she ISN’T curious about is strangers. I suppose this comes from me being home with her all the time. The short amount of time she is away from me she’s usually with Howard, Bob, or my family so when someone new comes onto the scene she is pretty wary. She’ll usually just stay back and watch them. She’ll even be cutsie with them IF they stay at a distance.

Her grandmother has seen to the fact that Mira can name every Winnie the Pooh character with surprising clarity. As a consequence of this, Howard and I can now sing every Winnie the Pooh song word-for-word. Yes, even the newer movies. We have them all. And we have seen them more times than we’d care to admit. Mira can count to three, although three sounds remarkably like FREEEEE. We taught her this after we realized how much she loved having Howard toss her up and down. We’d count off very dramatically, OOne-Twwwwwoooo-THREE! and Howard would propel her into the air. This worked really well for us because now when she watches the space shuttle launch she counts down, and screams “LIFT OFF!” She can name and point to numerous body parts: eyes, nose, ear, hair, toes, cheek, chin, head, and point them out on people and toys with acute accuracy. She used to love hearing me sing the alphabet song while I signed the letters. She used to attempt to mimic my gestures. I suppose the 26 letters might have been a bit too overwhelming for her because now when I start to sing I can’t get past D before she sternly commands me to stop. “NO, NO, NOOO”, with a vigorous shaking of her head as if to say WOMAN! DO YOU KNOW HOW COMPLICATED THIS IS- DAMN IT I’M ONLY 18 MONTHS OLD. So I’m backing off that lesson for right now.

Mira’s is rapidly growing into– well Mira. Her idiosyncrasies and quirks are becoming more and more apparent. She is OBSESSED with fruit. All shapes and forms- fresh, dried, canned, frozen- I’m sure she’ll become the Bubba Gump of Fruit. Mira is a product of her tropical environment and HATES having shoes and socks on. She accepts the fact that we need them when we are going out, but the moment we get indoors she sticks her feet in your face and whines, “SHHHHOOEEESS”. Occasionally, just to be mean I’ll take the shoes off and leave the socks on because I derive amusement in seeing her angrily pull on those irksome cotton contraptions. She yanks at them in utter torment. When they do come off she sticks her newly freed sweaty feet in my face and blows through her lips. This is her signal to cool off her feet. Her father got her hooked on this little trick; he started it when she was quite young. He would take off her socks and blow big bursts of air through her toes. She loves it and to this day demands the special treatment. I blessed by having a toddler that actually enjoys going to bed at night. In fact, we have always been fairly lucky with Mira sleeping through the night. I hope {insert pray} that she continues to be an easy sleeper. When 8:00 rolls around either Howard or I will ask her if she is tired. She will shake her head yes and immediately, if he isn’t currently in hand, look for her Puppy. When she has him, she’ll make her rounds around the living room kissing and saying good night. Then I pick her up, snuggle her into me as we walk to her crib and just like that- she’s in bed.

So as you can see it’s an amazing time. A busy time. With all the hectic running, jumping, and climbing everywhere it’s easy to forget to slow down and appreciate the moment. But sometimes the moment grabs you and slaps you in your face with its beautiful and natural simplicity. Like when Howard, Mira, and I lay in bed and watch TV. (Winne the Pooh- what else could it be!) I can’t help but meditate on Mira while she’s calmly sucking her thumb and gripping her Puppy’s tail. I’m caught by the simple rise and fall of her chest, or the quiet clicky noise of her thumb in her mouth, or the little giggles she utters when Rabbit gets bounced by Tigger. It’s truly incredible to think Howard and I have created her- or maybe a more accurate statement would be that we have given her a blank canvas and she paints in the details as she grows. She is a staggering work of art.

That’s it.  My portrait of a lady.

Distracted.

I was on such a roll reading.  I was enjoying my time at night, after Mira had gone to sleep, when I could settle down in my comfortable bed and melt into a good book.  I was making progress on the third book in Dumas’ Marie Antoinette series.  Granted this book was my least favorite as far as the storyline goes; I just didn’t find myself as eager to jump into it every night.  I suppose that was the reason I allowed myself to get so distracted.  Our roommate Bob sucked us into the 2nd season of Dexter that he had recorded.  So Howard and I would watch a couple episodes a night which meant I literally gave up my reading time.     

So I finally finished reading it last night.  I was about 20 pages or so from the end of the book when a thought occurred to me.  There is no way the book can end in 20 pages.  It’s the same gut wrenching feeling you get when you see ‘To Be Continued’ pop up on your favorite tv show.  So there I was with roughly 20 pages left and thinking to myself that maybe, possibly there can some sort of amazing ending that I wasn’t expecting that would neatly tie up all these loose ends.  A deus ex machina that would quickly bring about a closing to the book.  But no- with 20 pages left I realized that Marie Antoinette was still a long way off from losing her head- granted, I suppose the book doesn’t have to conclude with such a macabre ending.  Heck, Sophia Coppola’s movie never went so far as the incarceration, trial, and executions of the monarchs; but Dumas’ novel had so many loose strings with characters not relating to the royal family that I knew something was wrong.

The ending did in fact catch me off guard.  There was a death that I wasn’t expecting, but on the same hand I wasn’t overly sympathetic to that character’s demise.  In any event though- the ending left more questions than answers; yet I had finished all the books in my collection.  Could Dumas have left such a sloppy ending? 

 I did some research today and found that there is in fact a 4th and final installment to the series.  A fourth book that I am sadly lacking in my collection- my antique collection that was published in the 1800s and is still in good condition.  Luckily for me, Howard was sympathetic to my plight and didn’t make me feel guilty for spending more for the fourth book than I had for all the other three combined.  I found it here  and something tells me I will be frequenting this site often. 

I should have the book in roughly a week’s time.  In the meantime, I suppose I’ll focus on my writing.   

Between the Pages. . .

I haven’t finished the third and last book in Alexander Dumas’ series on Marie-Antoinette yet.  I have a couple hundred pages left to go but things have been rather hectic and I haven’t been able to devote as much time to it. 

In the meantime, here are some passages and quotes that I found appealing:

 ”The most prudent line of conduct now. . .is to be courageous.”

” . . . and the tears, which for so long a time had been restrained, burst forth from her eyelids, trickled down her cheeks and inundated her bosom; but instead of being bitter, these tears were sweet- instead of oppressing her, they disburdened her heart.”

“Posterity reconsiders the judgements of men.”

The Queen’s Necklace

I should have written sooner; I knew this would happen. I finished the second book, The Queen’s Necklace, of Dumas’ Marie Antoinette series a few days ago, and immediately picked up the third and final book. At the time I thought about making a few notes about the second book so I could write up a little something on it, but laziness prevailed- the same laziness that keeps me reading when I come across an extremely meaningful quote that I want to make note of. It never fails; I come across a profound piece of writing and think to myself- now there! that is something you can sink your teeth into. And repeatedly I tell myself to grab a pen and jot down the page number so I can easily reference it. Yet I never do. I stupidly assume, EVERY TIME, that I will be able to recall the page number at a later date. And I always find myself, either hours or days later, furiously trying to find that page. I’ve lost track of an infinite number of poignant passages that way. Now this laziness has cost me some really good thoughts on the second book. I’m confused as to where the second book ended and the third began.

In any event, as I had previously mentioned, the second book started off a little disappointingly for me. It wasn’t that it was necessarily slow in action, but the characters didn’t seem to have the realistic depth that they did in the first. Granted this book introduced some new characters into the mix and they didn’t appeal to me like the original cast in the first book; unfortunately the original gang didn’t grab me like before either. All in all, the first two-thirds of the book created a rather bleak state of ennui, but luckily the end packed a hearty punch that grabbed my attention. It quickly gained momentum, and in hindsight I suppose the lackluster beginning was all preparation laying the ground work for a fast paced ending.

In this book we continue to follow the French monarchy and are introduced to some of the characters that lay the foundation for the revolution. The Queen’s Necklace seems to portray a more sympathetic account of the monarchy, including Marie Antoinette, whereas the third book, so far, seems to give more insight into the revolutionaries and spirit behind them. I suppose in this way, Dumas gives the reader a historical novel that lends sympathy to both sides of the struggle. The books shed light on the good and evil on both sides scrambling for power. There are heroes and villains interspersed equally. Neither side is completely right or wrong; it’s simply a case of survival of the fittest, the cleverest, and ultimately, the most successful.

I find myself cheering for both sides- chanting with Billot and Pitou for freedom from oppression while simultaneously feeling sorry for Marie and Louis, and vainly hoping they will find some way to escape the direction I know they are head*ing (pardon the uncouth pun).

Memoirs of a Physician

What can I say? I adore Dumas. There is something absorbing about his novels. For me the attachment began when I read The Count of Monte Cristo. That book literally blew me away. I remember reading it late at night in my old house. I would read in bed with nothing but a small book-light and sporadic candles for light. It set the ambiance for the novel. I was literally absorbed through the pages and became a silent observer in the dark world of Edmond Dantes.

Memoirs of a Physician was yet another win for me. Dumas transports the reader into the separate- yet commingled lives of its numerous characters. Each chapter had me rooting for yet another character while displacing the one before. Yet, a few short pages later and I would sympathize with one I moments before had been blaspheming. This novel takes the normally defined line between protagonist and antagonist and makes it as murky and wide as the Seine. **{I can’t claim to know if the Seine is actually murky or wide having never been to France myself; but I am striving for some French analogy since the book deals with the French monarchy in the time shortly before the revolution. So please allow me this artistic exception and if chance ever brings me to withhold the Seine with my own eyes I shall amend the former statement as needed.}**

In any event, the characters moved back and forth like a tennis ball caught between two professional players on court. This fuzzy view of any definite hero or villain made the novel feel more lifelike. No one was a complete angel or devil. You could rationalize some of their actions ‘sometimes’ and other times wonder what the hell they were doing. The books demonstrated that no one is consistently an angel, and likewise, the devil himself can occasionally be pitied.

The book is the first in a short series, so if you do attempt this novel, be prepared to follow it through with the others. I am currently about halfway through the second novel, The Queen’s Necklace. I hate to admit it, but so far this is my least favorite Dumas story. I’m not finding the characters nearly as interesting as I did in the first novel. I have a couple hundred pages left and am clinging to the hope that things will pick up soon.

“You don’t have to be a fantastic hero to do certain things – to compete. You can be just an ordinary chap, sufficiently motivated.” E.H.

Rest in Peace

Edmund Hillary 1919-2008

May his memory continue to inspire countless others to become sufficiently motivated.

Reading for Reading’s Sake

There is no excuse for not writing for so long, so I won’t even attempt to make any. On a positive side, I have been dedicating most of my free time to the pleasures of reading. I’m catching up for my recent bout of “lack of book time”. First it was work and school; then along came baby and my passion for reading took a major trip to the back burner. So now that I am pretty much adjusted to this stay-at-home mom thing I find that I don’t crash immediately when my head hits the pillow at night. I actually take an hour or two for myself. Sure I could be using this time to write- but right now, this brief respite is dedicated to the pleasure of turning pages. And oh what pages there have been! First, I went through a biography craze. It started with a recommendation from a friend on a book about Catherine De Medici. Previously I wasn’t one for biographies as the few I had picked up were dry and hard to read. Yet, I always had an interest in history and historical personages. It was just hard for me to get into those heavy encyclopedia style books that bored my brain. Luckily the book on Catherine De Medici revved up my interest in biographies by proving history can be written in a way that attracts not repels. I suppose I have always been a firm believer that truth is stranger than fiction. Reading about real people making their way through life inspires me more than an author’s whimsical creations in novels. That’s not to say I can’t appreciate a novel. Novels grant us insight into what humans can dream and create, whereas biographies show us what has been done and can be achieved. They both serve their purpose.

I have always had the intention of keeping track of books I have read by writing a short synopsis or opinion about the work. In that way I can look back on a particular book or author and instantly recall what I liked or disliked. Since I have yet to put this thought into action, I figured I can motivate myself further by posting them here on my blog. In that way I shall not only get said book project started, but will also fulfill my obligation to write on here. And I would love to hear back from others with opinions of their own or recommendations for me.

I am currently reading a novel by Alexander Dumas (one of my all time favorite authors). It’s the first in a series of books that take place in the time leading up to the French Revolution. It’s known as the Marie Antoinette series. I anticipate finishing it today and will make my notes shortly thereafter. In the meantime, I highly recommend the following historians to anyone with an interest in history. Antonia Fraser and Alison Weir. I have read quite a few books from both of these authors and love their thoroughly absorbing styles. They don’t carry the tone and weight of a textbook; instead they make for truly fascinating and enjoyable reading.

Starry Night

A couple of nights ago Howard woke me from a blissful slumber, “Hey, you wanna see a comet?”

I grudgingly got up knowing that yes, I wanted to see it but no I hate being woken up after I’ve hit REM. Once my body and mind have slipped into deep sleep they want to stay there for their maximum allotment. It’s my coping mechanism to balance my frenzied days. They are non-stop whirlwinds of activity- whirlwinds named Mira. Mira, who has recently developed a fondness for climbing, running, and finding tiny areas to crawl into, under, and behind, constantly keeps me on my toes. Having a child means your ship is constantly flying on red alert. My nights on the other hand – my nights I get to switch to auto pilot and oh how heavenly a transition it is.

So when Howard wakes me with the promise of some celestial delight- the inner Kristen is excited- but the outer mommy rebels. The mommy in me knows the nonstop ride the rising sun will bring. The slightest rays of which wake my daughter from her slumber and so begin my day. But this night the Kristen-me won out and dragged my butt out of bed {much to mommy-me’s chagrin}. And how glad am I to be able to witness Comet Holmes for myself. In fact it produced such an awesome ‘wow-factor’ that I wanted to share the feeling. I called my parents and told them the comet was visible. My mom immediately got excited and spurred my father into heading outside with her. Howard and I rushed over to their place to help them spot the phenomenon. The four of us stood in their backyard, clad in our pajamas, and oh-ed and ah-ed over the sky with a pair of binoculars.

Since the cooler weather is bringing clearer skies our way, Howard is anticipating plenty of imaging nights. Riding the recent high the comet produced in us, my mother and I accompanied Howard to a dark sky site outside of the city on Saturday. It’s mind-boggling how different the sky appears in a dark area away from light pollution. How sad is it that a large percentage of city dwellers will never know what the sky actually looks like? With the naked eye we were able to see the Milky Way, the comet, and the Andromeda galaxy. Not to mention the detail and clarity perceived through the lenses of Howard’s ‘scopes. It should be mandatory for people everywhere to get away from the blinding lights and white noise of society and look out towards the vastness of space. It creates the same ‘centering’ feeling you get looking out at the horizon from the beach’s sandy shore. You get that sense of feeling infinitely small yet infinitely important. For me it recreates the impression mountain climbing imparted – as I stood among the vast peaks I felt so microscopically small; yet, just by being there aware and alive I felt so important. You don’t lose yourself in the enormity of the mountains, the immensity of the ocean, or the vastness of space- you gain your sense of importance and individuality in this world. There will never be another you. There is a purpose- even if you don’t know quite what it is yet.

To contemplate the vast distances and enormity of what you are viewing when you look at the sky is truly stimulating, and more dizzying yet to wrap your head around the space and time involved. Seeing the true night sky, without haze, fog, and artificial light is truly an awe-inspiring moment. Everyone should attempt to see it this way- the way nature intended.

“For my part I know nothing with certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.” Vincent Van Gogh

A deliriously tired system

So I learned something new today. When my daughter gets only one half hour nap during the day instead of her usual two hour-long ones, she becomes a freakishly delirious giggle monster.

On another topic, I spent the first half of my day in class so I can begin substitute teaching at a local Montessori school. It’s my first real run in with the whole Montessori philosophy and method, and I must admit I’m impressed. I know today was just a quick overview, but I was really encouraged by the things I saw and learned, and I am excited to continue with them.

I’ve been looking for something new. I am currently a bit jaded appalled disgusted at the deterioration of our public school systems. Education and learning are done in a conveyor belt fashion. Our children are treated as nothing more than a fast moving assembly line. Teachers have literally had their hands tied and can only allow a pre-determined allotment of creativity and individualism into the classroom. There is no time for annotations and additional interpretations; there are deadlines to be met and standardized tests to be completed. Art and music are becoming as dim a memory as a faded painting or half-remembered tune. The impression is there but sadly, sadly lacking.

I always believed the purpose of an education was to cultivate children into self-sufficient members of society- to make well-rounded individuals who embrace our culture and understand if not appreciate others. I don’t see why our main concern is with the process of reading and taking multiple choice tests. Our world and our minds cannot be defined or analyzed in black and white. Why make our tests?

Why sacrifice the individual when our society is made up of individuals? Imagine what the future would hold if we could foster a real passion for learning in our children. From a young age.

I am grateful to the faculty and staff at Eckerd College for imprinting within me a deep desire to learn and a genuine passion for education. I am saddened that it has taken me 25 years to get this point.

I don’t want my daughter to wait that long.

Persistence = Organization

Okay I’m slowly getting adjusted to this Stay-At-Home-Mom thing.  It is a process though. I haven’t quite found that system which allows me to accomplish everything I thought I would be accomplishing.  I envisioned getting a lot more organizing done.  I assumed I would catch up on the laundry or deep clean the refrigerator and maybe even clean off that baker’s rack that has never been used for cooking utensils but has only accumulated massive amounts of junk.  It’s a refuge for spillover from our junk drawer.  It’s true every kitchen should have a junk drawer.  In fact, I believe the right to a junk drawer is one of the key points in our Constitution.  Where else would one keep pens, coupons, batteries, candles, a rubber bouncy ball or two?  Ours also contains outdated takeout menus and expired food items like crackers and peanuts that Howard won’t throw out.  Howard does not believe in waste and come the apocalypse or zombie invasion we will have more than enough stale peanut butter and overripe sour kraut to get by on.  So needless to say, between Howard’s refusal to waste and my instinctive packrat quality that requires me to hold on to things like my Cricket doll because I can still recall that feeling of excitement I had as a six year old opening her up on Christmas morning, we have a cluttered house.

We have the allotted junk drawer.  But we also have the junk baker’s rack.  And the junk countertop.  And the junk breakfast nook.  And don’t even ask about our garage.

So I find myself trying to work out a system that allows me to rise above the current status quo in the house.  I’ll keep at it and learn how to juggle chasing a rambunctious one year old around the house while simultaneously vacuuming and secretly tossing out expired food products when Howard isn’t looking.  And maybe- just maybe- I’ll get rid of some of my old movie ticket stubs and high school notebooks. 

But Cricket stays.