Pinch me
No green. When I was a kid, I would put on this green felt shamrock pin before I left my room because I knew my siblings would pinch me if I didn't.
Did I mention I'm the oldest child?
I had a strong sense of self-preservation. I picked on them and I just knew they were going to try to even the score. Unfortunately, my sense of self-preservation doesn't extend to not getting sick. Because I am. Again.
I'm still doing better than the individual who just hacked up a lung right outside my window. He should welcome it back to the fold. He really should. I would.
I didn't blog yesterday. My day started well (babysitting some munchkins, watching them dance to bluegrass, and being laughed at by munchkins when I so much as tapped a toe) and went slowly downhill (huddled on the couch complaining that I felt like I was made out of modeling clay and was slowly hardening)(come on, don't tell me you've never felt that way!)
I enjoyed this article about blogging. It made me think. I might even have to read it again now that I have it up for the link. I don't agree with it 100%. Tell me what you think. I liked #3: "dont be afraid to do anything. infact if youre afraid of something, do it. then do it again. and again." (The grammar is his. Because, you know, mine isn't always perfect but I admire a well placed apostrophe.) I think some of my readers would especially enjoy #4.
Personal revelation for the day:
Lis and I have been talking about birth in our letters lately. As in, our births. Sorry Lis, I'm going to share what I just wrote to you, in a personal letter, with the Internet. Forgive me. I still love you more than the Internet. (And see, there, I just broke #5. But I like it that way.)
We've been talking about how we were separated from our mothers, for various reasons, right after we were born, and if/how that changes our relationship with them. Not having that initial moment of bonding. Lis was taken away to be tested and "cooked for a little longer." Someone else held me while my mom was taken to the hospital so she'd stop bleeding. (And yes, I'm still in favor of home births.) Not horrible, either of those separations, but neither of us ended up being super close to our mothers. I have a great relationship with my mom (we worked together for a year. I'd rather work with her than anyone else I know) but she likes to tell me about how when I was a toddler, I was anti-affection. I wanted to sit on her lap, and read a book or whatever, but she couldn't put her arms around me. There are pictures where my hand is on her arm. You know that tiny Jess is thinking "get your arm OFF of me and keep reading" and that my mom's tiny heart is breaking (not that my mom has a small heart, but you know, to continue the tiny theme. Continuity is important here at Garish & Tweed). So that's something I've had to work on as I grow up. Being pro-affection. Because I am. It just takes a little more effort than for those of who whose fathers didn't nearly fall out a window as your mothers were carried, bleeding, down several flights of stairs.
End of personal revelation. Discuss.
Did I mention I'm the oldest child?
I had a strong sense of self-preservation. I picked on them and I just knew they were going to try to even the score. Unfortunately, my sense of self-preservation doesn't extend to not getting sick. Because I am. Again.
I'm still doing better than the individual who just hacked up a lung right outside my window. He should welcome it back to the fold. He really should. I would.
I didn't blog yesterday. My day started well (babysitting some munchkins, watching them dance to bluegrass, and being laughed at by munchkins when I so much as tapped a toe) and went slowly downhill (huddled on the couch complaining that I felt like I was made out of modeling clay and was slowly hardening)(come on, don't tell me you've never felt that way!)
I enjoyed this article about blogging. It made me think. I might even have to read it again now that I have it up for the link. I don't agree with it 100%. Tell me what you think. I liked #3: "dont be afraid to do anything. infact if youre afraid of something, do it. then do it again. and again." (The grammar is his. Because, you know, mine isn't always perfect but I admire a well placed apostrophe.) I think some of my readers would especially enjoy #4.
Personal revelation for the day:
Lis and I have been talking about birth in our letters lately. As in, our births. Sorry Lis, I'm going to share what I just wrote to you, in a personal letter, with the Internet. Forgive me. I still love you more than the Internet. (And see, there, I just broke #5. But I like it that way.)
We've been talking about how we were separated from our mothers, for various reasons, right after we were born, and if/how that changes our relationship with them. Not having that initial moment of bonding. Lis was taken away to be tested and "cooked for a little longer." Someone else held me while my mom was taken to the hospital so she'd stop bleeding. (And yes, I'm still in favor of home births.) Not horrible, either of those separations, but neither of us ended up being super close to our mothers. I have a great relationship with my mom (we worked together for a year. I'd rather work with her than anyone else I know) but she likes to tell me about how when I was a toddler, I was anti-affection. I wanted to sit on her lap, and read a book or whatever, but she couldn't put her arms around me. There are pictures where my hand is on her arm. You know that tiny Jess is thinking "get your arm OFF of me and keep reading" and that my mom's tiny heart is breaking (not that my mom has a small heart, but you know, to continue the tiny theme. Continuity is important here at Garish & Tweed). So that's something I've had to work on as I grow up. Being pro-affection. Because I am. It just takes a little more effort than for those of who whose fathers didn't nearly fall out a window as your mothers were carried, bleeding, down several flights of stairs.
End of personal revelation. Discuss.
posted by Jess at 1:18 PM
2 Comments:
hmm... I'm curious about that. I was NOT seperated from my mother at birth. And we're close. However, my sister was also NOT seperated from our mother at birth. And they're not as close.
i was taken from my mom right away because i'd gotten stuck in there and had to be wiggled out with forceps. because of that, they whisked me away, checked my head, and tidied me up before giving me back to mom. even though i missed that first moment with her, i'm still hugely affectionate. the whole family is. although we also bite each other all the time. so i guess we're feral about it:-) you get a nice hug and kiss, then a small bite.
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