She said it… May 12, 2008

Pay attention.

Be astonished.

Tell about it.

- Mary Oliver, from “Sometime”

Gone but not forever May 5, 2008

Sorry out there, this semester proved to be a trying one. I could give a long and lengthy explanation, but I don’t have the time and you don’t want to waste the time reading it. I plan to get back to the heart of why I started this blog. To be Me! I am a literary student and I love all things written. I am blessed to understand words and find their meaning. I hope to make it my job someday.

I am back!

Persuasion and Jane Austen January 14, 2008

I willingly watched PBS’s Masterpiece Theater last night as they began their series, “The Complete Jane Austen“. The first installment was a lesser known classic, “Persuasion” which was published after her death. Fortunately, I have studied Ms. Austen extensively, but have sadly only read a few of her pieces. I am fascinated with the public’s love of her. In fact, walking in Target the other day, I loved seeing all the responses to such an author. It is exciting for those of us who study them. There was an fiction piece depicting Jane Austen’s lost diary and then Mr. Darcy’s response to his role in “Pride and Prejudice”. I am guessing it would be hard to quantify the amount of impact a female writer of her time had on our world today. Let alone she single handedly created the parameters for a chick flick.

Jane Austen is something that I, unfortunately, have shied away from because I struggle with the idea of mainstream literature. Admittedly, though I have been bitten by the Jane Austen bug and have been slowly seeing why the whole world is in love with her. What an amazing love story she can tell. My lack of love was not representative of her skill, but rather more about the popularity. I have succumbed to her popularity much like I did Virginia Woolf who is one of my great loves.

To venture away from nerdy lit talk I am going to go more into story line. I wish I could make a comparison between novel and movie, but “Persuasion” is not a book I have read. The story line as presented by PBS’s Masterpiece Theater was amazing. From the beginning I was sucked in by Ann’s plainness. An attribute popular in this time period in literature. It is almost as if the women writers of this time were chanting the popular theme of modernity that screamed, “Plain women love too”, making plain be replaced by “fat”, “divorced”, “single”, “shy” or whatever commonality we all share. This to me suggests, that like other 19th century writers that Austen was understanding of the believed male’s idea of the perfect women just did not exist.

My own favorite part of the movie beyond the chick flick genre part of it, is when Anne is discussing literature and it’s viewpoints of women vs. men with Mr. Elliot (her supposed intended). He discusses how writers have it right on their opinion of women. She suggest maybe it just isn’t so reminding him that most of the opinions are written by men. It was just poignant to the time period and really spoke to me more about Jane’s feelings of being a published writer than Anne’s feelings of being a women portrayed by male writers.

Mr. Wentworth, Anne’s love interest and later intended, was very handsome with endearing looks and attitude. Both lead roles captured the characters so marvelously I wanted to pop through the screen and knock some modernity into them. I also love Austen’s use of social roles to help elevate or inhibit the characters so that the ending is much more dramatic when Anne is running through the streets of Bath and people are looking on as if she has lost her mind. In modern times, most people wouldn’t even bat an eye unless she rammed into them.

There were two irritating parts to me and that was the long held out kiss where Anne would go in for the ending kiss and draw back. They held us out for at least 10 minutes it felt. It felt too pushed and too “movie like” for me. I understand it wasn’t proper for a man and women to kiss in the street at this time but the fact that Austen has them do this speaks volumes about her rebelling from what women should do. So let the poor woman do it already. It felt too much like acting at that point.

And the second, is it a little odd that Sir William Elliot lays eyes on Anne and the instant chemistry and reaction to one another is felt by the audience. However, they are meaning to portray him as a bad guy, as he is in the text, but it is rarely seen in the movie. Instead he comes across as a sincere gentleman and a match for Anne. Minus one tiny issue, he is her cousin! Cousin….I realize things are a little more hard as far as the dating scene goes given the issue of travel in this time period but must she be engaged to her cousin. I even think at one point he said, “first cousin”. Not making a judgment, just curious about that little characteristic of the characters.

My favorite part about 19th century female writers is the suttle rumblings of feminism. They couldn’t picket out in the streets or scream at the top of their lungs like we can. They are often criticized for not demanding more, but in reality I think they were quite brave for even venturing out and speaking up in their suttle ways, even if it is just through characters. Mary Wollstonecraft who wrote, “Vindication of the Rights of Women” is considered one of the first female authors to specifically address the rights of women. Her piece was written in 1792 and when Jane was a child and at a time when information didn’t travel as quickly as we are used too. “Persuasion” was completed in 1816 and published in 1819. So the idea of females being remotely able to express themselves the way Anne (would/should) have just would have not happened. The fact that Ms. Austen wrote it the way she did created the dramatic ending she was likely after while still making a statement about what a woman should be allowed and not allowed to do. It also plays into the title of “Persuasion”. All of Anne’s life she is persuaded who to be and what to do. In the street in Bath she decides to make the decision for herself. Beautiful writing and exactly why I study literature.

I highly recommend anything Jane Austen and recommend you tune in next week as Northanger Abbey is next in the series. Another classic I have not read but likely will after the movie.

A review of written words. January 3, 2008

” . . . happy are they that hear their detractions, and can put them to mending.”
William Shakespeare

It is here where I review where I see my own weaknesses from 2007

____________________________________________

January-

It is hard to be so far apart and you get mad and frustrated and blame it on other things instead of just saying, “I miss you.” So I bit the bullet and said, “I just miss you.”

February-

The challenge I see is having faith to see the light where the bulbs have popped. Finding a way to reduce our possessions and finishing my damn school.

March-

The reality train has hit me and I have realized the best option for me is to teach what I love.

April-

I am feeling incredibly stretched and inadequate. I feel every where I turn my mistakes, my many human mistakes are on display to remind me just how mistake ridden I am.

May-

I grew older and grandma’s wasn’t as cool. In my heart it always was, but I could never admit it, but now that I am older I look back and I am so grateful for those warm hot days spent with my grandma and grandpa.

June-

As I said I am kind of tired of talking about myself and really just want to focus on the simple parts of my day. I want to do this through photography and my creative side. (This should be said and re-said)

July-

Alongside my own worries that OCD gives I worry that somehow she will mistake that my compulsions are the norm and become scared of her own world.

August-

4 Years have passed so quickly. I constantly think of the what ifs. Life is a blessing and I know that because of August 22, 2003. RIP Simply Baby.

September-

I will always be a mother, but I won’t always be the mother to little girls that need me oh so much.

October-

I have this silly way I make myself feel younger…I watch teeny shows.

November-

As I feel the stress and tension knot both in my head and in my heart and anger is expelled; I cover myself in things that make me happy. In hopes of dashing what it is I truly want to say. What a burden it is that I cannot speak the truth that rises from my tongue. To tell you your unkindness hurts and to tell you I wouldn’t treat another that way. I can’t though. I am not the judge on your human being, though my anger takes me there.

It is hard to bear witness to meanness and selfishness and sit alone and speak no ill. It is stronger still to remain quiet and hope that this anger passes; because, it will. It always does, even in the midsts, its grasp is tight.

I gather where the smile is faked but soon shows up real. Things can always be worse. Good or bad, this is a lesson I know. I wish I didn’t, but I do. As the anger slips to the side to watch the good, I feel its pull. I want to sit too, on the side and watch as the battle between good and bad continues.

I forget though, this is my battle and I am in the ring. I am fighting for a cause I don’t know, but an ending I want. So I sit, mind over matter, as the battle between my anger and my mouth wages on.

December-

Parenting is an amazing thing. You do things you never thought you would do. You say things you never thought possible. You fear things you never even thought about. Love does this.

Yea that pretty much sucked! January 3, 2008

What a great start to a new year. I had to make some really crappy decisions and there was no good means of making them because they all stunk. So my attitude leaves a little to be desired.

I am just kind of tired of all the pressure to get done with school. I am moving at the pace I best can to be the student I want to be. I keep pushing it harder and faster because others think I should. However, it is me and my family who suffers. It sucks! I cannot win.

So in effort to match up with who I want to be and who I am turning into I have made the  adjustments necessary and sit here in defense mode waiting for the next criticism. The good news is I will graduate when I want too and with a kick a$$ GPA which is what I was after.

I wish I could say this semester will be easier. It won’t. It will be just as tricky. It will all just be at night instead of during the day. I will pretty much live on campus from 5-10. I am okay with it though.

So yea the New Year didn’t start off so great but it will be better. I am just trying to find a way to be more in tune with who I am and do things I want to not that others want me too. I will never be happy if I don’t.

Door December 14, 2007

And then we have something new called Mama Mondays. Mama Mondays were born of the idea of Mama Says Om. Mama Says Om has retired and those of seeking out inspiration in other places found Mama Mondays. Yes please note it is Thursday and make your judgments now. I have failed miserably as I expected I would being designated to a day. But alas, I am here and I am ready to stream down a lane that discusses Doors. Yes, folks, doors.

“What we really want to do is what we are really meant to do. When we do what we are meant to do, money comes to us, doors open for us, we feel useful and the work we do feels like play to us.” Julia Cameron
Julia hit the nail on the head or got it right if you ask me. If ever in my life I have seen that it is where my life has taken me. So often I am pulled and prodded to go certain directions by friends, time and money. It is the moments when I truly go where my heart takes me and where I am meant to go that it all fits ya know? When I walk through the door I meant to walk through it just feels right. Here’s the thing though. I have several doors.

I have this truly amazing door that says Mom. It feels right but man does it beat the heck out of ya. But when my daughters climb in my lap to fall asleep or have extra $$ to spend in the Santa Shop and think of me first I remember why walking through this door meant so much too me.  I get to share these precious moments of my daughters lives with them. I am there for every moment of every day. It is hard and sometimes I want to scream but I get it. I get the importance of what it is I am doing here. I am raising our girls the way Kyle and I want to raise them. I am being the mom I have always dreamed and wanted to be. I have time to cook, sew, take pictures, take naps and cuddle with my girls in their jammies. I understand the precious moments I have here and I am so grateful.

Then there is this totally awesome and totally opposite kind of door I am choosing and it who I am. It is in my blood and it the meat of what I want to get at and understand and for others to understand about me. It is the study of literature. It wasn’t a whim that I decided to study in school, it wasn’t a class that peaked my interest. It was something that I have loved since I can remember. It was interwoven with who I was and where I wanted to go. I wanted to say, “Yea but West’s use of feminism is purely intentional even though she makes the claim it isn’t” and either have people understand what I was saying. Or people to respect that I know that and take me serious. It feels amazing to have opinions about literary greats, but it feels even more great to have an opinion that is sought after and respected. I am a senior in college (3 classes away from Eng Lit degree) and my professors have interest in my opinions. They want to aid my understanding and aid my research and background. It still blows me away. Because to the people that know me they don’t get it. It isn’t that they don’t care, they do, they just see me as Never Simply Put the mom or Never Simply Put the sister. But I am so much more when I walk on campus.

So speaking of doors and walking through them and how good things happen for those that choose their doors by following their hearts. I am doing that. That is what college is about for me. The love of literature, reading and writing and the love of teaching it, that is why I want to walk through that door. I made that choice and I have enjoyed the ride.  The opportunities just keep coming and coming to. I don’t think that is a coincidence at all. I am just overwhelmed by the opportunities I have coming down the road. I don’t know what road to take but I am honored they even exist to take.

All of these doors though conflict so heavily with the other door. The mommy door. I want to be the mom involved in PTO, my daughters class and be a good mom to them. It is hard to balance the two ya know? If there were ever an example it was this week. A week of Santa Shop, finals and PTO meetings and add in there planning #1 class Christmas Party I feel filled to the top and ready to slam the door. But I haven’t been that mother. I want to be a mother who helps out because I can. I have the time. I don’t judge the mothers who can’t. That isn’t me. They can’t, they are working for their families. I am too. I just do it differently and I can be there and do it. I want to take the opportunity and ride the ride while it is still going. It won’t always be that way.

So as I have typed this entry for the last hour and half I have cooked 2 batches of chocolate chip cookies for tomorrows Santa Shop, I have checked my email to see what kind of emails and I have tried to get in a load of laundry. That is my life. That is NOT a complaint. It is I have these amazing doors and I am choosing to walk through both of them and give it all I have got. Yes eventually it will all catch up with me, but I won’t have to regret that I didn’t study Native American writers like I should or that I didn’t do everything I could do for my girls. I just take it all in and thank God for the ride.
_____________
Door, Mama Mondays

 

The Battle Wages On… November 30, 2007

“I may be strong-minded, but no one can say I’m out of my sphere now, for woman’s special mission is supposed to be drying tears and bearing burdens.” -Louisa May Alcott ____________________________________________________________

As I feel the stress and tension knot both in my head and in my heart and anger is expelled; I cover myself in things that make me happy. In hopes of dashing what it is I truly want to say. What a burden it is that I cannot speak the truth that rises from my tongue. To tell you your unkindness hurts and to tell you I wouldn’t treat another that way. I can’t though. I am not the judge on your human being, though my anger takes me there.

 

It is hard to bear witness to meanness and selfishness and sit alone and speak no ill. It is stronger still to remain quiet and hope that this anger passes; because, it will. It always does, even in the midsts, its grasp is tight.

 

I gather where the smile is faked but soon shows up real. Things can always be worse. Good or bad, this is a lesson I know. I wish I didn’t but I do. As the anger slips to the side to watch the good, I feel its pull. I want to sit too, on the side and watch as the battle between good and bad continues.

 

I forget though, this is my battle and I am in the ring. I am fighting for a cause I don’t know, but an ending I want. So I sit, mind over matter, as the battle between my anger and my mouth wages on.

Self Doubt November 28, 2007

If I could only put into words the way I have attacked myself the past day and half. I am bombarded with insecurities about my motherhood, womanhood and even my general person. It has awoke me from my sleep. It has cause horrendous tensions in my back and neck. It is eating me alive. I have had so much self-talk in the last day that I am sick of talking to myself. I believe these things are typical of each of us. I just really want to say I am feeling completely and utterly inadequate as a person. The thing is I cannot figure out why. I know I am letting others comments make me feel that way. But more importantly I am doing it to myself.

I feel like I am waiting on the big test results from a major exam. I am waiting, waiting and waiting to alleviate some of the anxiety I am feeling. I just don’t get why we do this to ourselves. How many times I have I allowed a comment from someone else or my own limitations to dictate who I am in the world?

Thing is when you are dealing with your motherhood it just feels so raw. I hope I am making myself understood. I know I am a good mom but I constantly question it because I don’t do enough of this or that? Or I don’t do it like so and so’s mom. I set limitations because I know I cannot successfully do this or that and later I beat myself up because I don’t.  I don’t make dinner for my family because my migraine is making me want to puke at the thought and I spent all night wishing I could be a better wife, mother and so on.  I just feel so fed up with it all. Because truly the only person making me feel this way is myself.

No one (I would hope) sets out to purposefully make comments that make us question ourselves. Right? Now I am in a big panic as my time at home is dwindling that I have somehow failed my children and I didn’t do a good enough job. I should have played with them more and read more books. Truthfully just as I said, I am at war here with myself.

I would try and talk with someone about it but what do you say? I feel so inadequate as a human and what do you think? I am not fishing for others to tell me I am not. That’s the thing. I need to find it within myself. I need to see my own value and stop devaluing myself. I have accomplished so much and yet I don’t see those things. I see the failures or the not quite theres.

And here is the dirtiest part of this secret and I do want to hear what you all say about this….are we not fearful to say this all out loud for fear that those that don’t see us as a failure will be let in on the secret that we are inadeqaute? Like shining a light on a zit you have. Grrr!

I have faith and I keep seeking it out because of the panic. It is truly the only thing that is calming me at this point when my mind is running 100000mph. I am trying to do the things that make me feel good. I just want to scream though about why this all matters?

I know I am a good mom but why am I ever not good enough for myself? What will be the point when I am good enough? Does that point even exist? Probably not.

So how do I jump this hurdle? And for now how can I deal with this urgent anxiety that is shouting in my face, “YOU ARE NOT ENOUGH!”

Giving…. November 19, 2007

Isn’t it unique that I am wrestling with this prompt from Mama Says Om? This is a constant struggle for me. It is laced with judgments and aggravation for me of others and myself. Christmas is not truly about the gifts. I know this. My mom showed me that. We grew up struggling most of our childhood but Christmas was always so special. I look back and I want that for my girls. The things that were special weren’t giving of gifts but the traditions.

The grenadine and 7 up Shirley Temples on Christmas Eve alongside the Hickory Farms Summer Sausage in sweet and sour sauce made by my step dad, Ken. The Christmas Eve’s with the Burris’ (my grandparents in love), pajama’s and Christmas Eve gift openings of my sisters gifts. Those are the things that meant something to me. My grandma and sometimes grandpa would walk down (we lived a block away) to our house early in the morning and watch us open our gifts. My mom would slave over a breakfast made on the spot every Christmas morning. The plate of cookies homemade by us for Santa and the awesome letter he would leave in the morning even after we knew Santa was not real. Some years the presents were stacked high and large and would take up all the living room and sometimes it was a struggle. I know this looking back as an adult but I never knew it then. The things that meant the most were the tradition. Christmas morning with my mom and Christmas afternoons spent driving to Chicago with my Dad. It killed my mom saying good bye, again something I didn’t know till I look back now. I am mom I get that pain. I would make up songs looking out the window and drive my sister crazy singing them. My grandparents would have a four course polish/chec meal. The dumplings, the turkey, the gravy, the ham. The moments where my sister and I were the only grand children and were spoiled as such.

The love overflowed. Even though my family was scattered and fragmented my Christmas memories never were! I was loved from every angle and every person that touched my life. That is what giving is to me. The amazing gift of love and gift of oneself.

So each year comes and I struggle to set limits on the latest gadget the kids want; I long for the days when the presents were great but so were the memories and traditions. I know I didn’t appreciate them then but I do now. Sometimes the Christmas memories are a blur. I try and instill pieces of my families memories for my girls. I want to give them that. I want to them realize the true meaning of Christmas is the giving. Not just gift giving but the giving of oneself to another. A time to reach out and love someone in way that I often struggle to do the rest of the year. Each of my gifts this year are going to include some part of me. Meaning when I saw it, it reminded me of you. Only one won’t have that connotation and that is my father in law who is impossible to buy stuff for. I strike out every single year. One of these years I will nail it. I guess I am giving him a bit of the missing the mark part of myself each year. (giggle)

My goal this year to really incorporate things in my girls Christmas that meant something to me so it isn’t just about the presents. I know when they are little it will be but when they grow up they will hopefully look forward to those things.

I have found that among its other benefits, giving liberates the soul of the giver.
-Maya Angelou
_____________________
Mama Says Om-Giving

With Golden Edges November 14, 2007

There is sits golden edges tattered and torn. The gold demonstrating something my immature brain could not grasp. In hands it feels heavy with burden. A burden carried from person to person in my fractured family. A burden fractured itself with meaning, a meaning that defines itself just by touching. A soft white outish textured cover with embossing on your heart. I ran fingers across touching the lives of my ancestors and their fingers entwined in my own. The smell that filled my nostrils tickled the inside and speed up the excitement in my brain. I knew it was important but I didn’t know how. Inside pages dog eared, stained with coffee, tears and memories. A picture from my parents wedding announcement falls on my lap like a fall leaf hitting a windshield. Quick and with a blast reminding me: oh yea that happened didn’t it. The gold unseen when looking through the barely there paper that house words to live by. But together they made amazing music and art. Whooosh whooosh whooosh and flashes of gold pass by. Inside pictures of cousins, myself and cards we had sent on. What were they do in this book. This book heavy with not just burden but with life. Lives. Lives that had been lived. Sometimes sadness in Aunt Eleanor’s obituary and sometimes sadness in the tiny foot print that would never walk. This book houses memories she holds dear I suppose. Memories I should hold dear. Do I though? I am more amazed that I feel the weight of this book on my soul. I know it is important but I don’t know why. The words inscribed are “Holy Bible” and it is holy but Bible is a foreign world. Bibles are in churches, not clutched in her book shelf beside all the Harlequin Romances and Taste of Home magazines. It gathers dust, isn’t that disrespectful? I don’t see her kneel in prayer beside it? Isn’t that what you are supposed to do? Come to think of it I am not sure I see her read it. But she must, the dog eared pages, stained with coffee, tears and memories.

I imagine long after we are all gone she pulls it out and loses herself in the words just as I have lost myself in the wonder. She prays to God and I wonder why?