"the mother" read by a mother

What a week.  It has been hard to squeeze in school between a teething baby, a destructive dog, and other family crises I'd rather not get into here.  Today, I went to my mother's house and hid in my brother's room to read poetry.  I left my three kids in the living room with their Nana.  I must say it was the most enjoyable three hours I've had all week. It was so quiet!  Well, except for the sound of my own voice.  For some reason, I find it necessary to read poems aloud.  They don't sound right in my head.  I was reading "in Just-" by e.e. cummings to myself when I heard snickering.  I glanced over my shoulder, and I saw my two oldest children on their hands and knees looking in at me through the crack in the door.  The stood up and ran back down the hall, and I heard my three-year-old son say, "Mommy is talking to herself!"  My almost five-year-old daughter responded, "She has finally gone crazy!"  Finally?  Here I thought I had reached some sort of sanity.  Children know best.


I can honestly say a poem has never touched me as much as "the mother" by Gwendolyn Brooks.  I don't want to get into the political aspect of the poem, but as a mother, I don't think I would ever be able to have an abortion.  I don't condemn those women who decide to have an abortion because I don't feel it is my place to judge anyone.  I just think about the small moments with my children, like the one above, and I couldn't imagine never having them. I could post every single day about something one of my children does which touches my heart.  Imagine having to make up those moments in your head about the child who never was...

Before we went to my mother's house this afternoon, my children and I played hide-and-seek.  Usually, the just hide behind a door or a chair, but this time I actually could not find them anywhere! After ten minutes of looking, I started to panic a bit.  I thought maybe they went outside.  When I looked out the door, I didn't see any footprints in the snow.  I finally called out for them to come out.  I think they heard the panic in my voice.  I heard a cabinet door swing open, and my son yelled, "Here we are, mommy!"  They somehow both managed to squeeze in under the bathroom sink!  How they did this is beyond me.  It is the tiniest cabinet in existence!

Revelation

We make ourselves a place apart
Behind light words that tease and flout,
But oh, the agitated heart
Till someone really find us out.

'Tis pity if the case require
(Or so we say) that in the end
We speak the literal to inspire
The understanding of a friend.

But so with all, from babes that play
At hide-and-seek to God afar,
So all who hide too well away
Must speak and tell us where they are.

Symbolism

I just finished reading "The Red Badge of Courage" by Stephen Crane.  I was surprised at how much he reminded me of Robert Frost.  They both use nature, color, and religious symbolism in their writing.

Birches (Excerpt)

Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.


I'm looking forward to the poetry pod coming up.  There are quite a few Frost poems in it, but I intend to read the others.  Broadening my poetry collection one poet at a time.

Whew!

Just finished reading Shadowfever by Karen Marie Moning. I know I should have been reading our book for this next week, but I couldn't resist finding out what happened in the final book of the series! I read 510 pages in less than 24 hours. This is quite a feat considering I did this while balancing three kids and a dog on little to no sleep.  I will be missing Desperate Housewives and Brothers & Sisters tonight because I'm going to bed early!  I haven't read this much in years. I used to read two or three books a week.  After the 2nd kid came along, my alone time was almost nonexistent. I can rarely even make it to the bathroom by myself! (TMI????)

The Yellow Wallpaper

Every now and then, when I'm bored, I lay in my bed and stare at the ceiling.  It is quite an interesting ceiling to say the least.  There is a guinea pig, a goat, a cowboy, and an airplane up there.  Well, sometimes the cowboy looks like a dragon.  It really just depends on the day.  I made my husband dissect the ceiling with me one evening.  He didn't see the same things as I did.  I would say, "Look! Right there! It's a goat. Can't you see it?"  He replied, "No, it's an ostrich."  I still don't know how he could have confused a goat with an ostrich.  Now he can't lay on his back in bed or he is automatically drawn into the wonder which is our ceiling.  I thought about buying those stick up stars that glow in the dark to keep from investigating the ceiling further.  After thinking about it though, I realized I would just stare at the stars and wonder what was underneath them on the ceiling.  It would drive me crazy for sure. 

I can relate to Charlotte Perkins Gilman and her story "The Yellow Wallpaper."  I require a lot of imaginative stimulation throughout the day.  If I do not get it, I search for it on ceilings.  A couple months ago, my dog ate (not chewed...actually ate!) almost every power cord in the house.  My computer cord, my phone charger, and my nook charger were gone.  Imagine having no way to entertain oneself for almost a week.  I did laundry, rearranged my children's bedrooms, reorganized things in my closet, and I even color coded the papers in our filing cabinet.  Finally, I just stared at the ceiling.

(Can you see the guinea pig???)

Happiness Makes Up In Height For What It Lacks In Length

Oh, stormy stormy world,
The days you were not swirled
Around with mist and cloud,
Or wrapped as in a shroud,
And the sun's brilliant ball
Was not in part or all
Obscured from mortal view-
Were days so very few
I can but wonder whence
I get the lasting sense
Of so much warmth and light.
If my mistrust is right
It may be altogether
From one day's perfect weather,
When starting clear at dawn,
The day swept clearly on
To finish clear at eve.
I verily believe
My fair impression may
Be all from that one day
No shadow crossed but ours
As through its blazing flowers
We went from house to wood
For change of solitude.

This poem reminds me of The Storm by Kate Chopin.

Oh, where is spring?

Today was American History II study time.  While reading the chapter on industrialization, The Awakening by Kate Chopin was referenced.  I want to read it now! I almost logged into my Barnes & Nobles account to find it for my nook, Henry.  Then I remembered I still have 6 other books waiting to be read.  Also, The Red Badge of Courage is coming up.  There are two books I am dying to start reading soon.  The first one is The Scribe by Francine Rivers.  It is based on Silas from the bible.  I have read all of her other books as well, but I have a special interest in this one because my baby's name is Silas!  The other one is #5 in a series called Shadowfever by Karen Marie Moning.  It is basically a book about monsters, vampires, etc.  Two completely different books, but I am sure neither will disappoint me!

I heard the dog toy squeaking, and was getting a bit annoyed.  It's a bit tough to hear myself think with all the racket the dog makes.  Then I realized the dog is outside.  Turns out my baby likes dead foxes, too!  It was kind of gross though seeing as to how the fox is covered in dog saliva.  I hear dog's mouths are cleaner than humans though...

I am just glad History day is over.  Now I can move on to more women writers from Pod 2 tomorrow.  Don't get me wrong, I love history, but I found 3 more reasons not to like Theodore Roosevelt.  He is my husband's favorite president.  Sometimes I wonder about that guy...

Now I am starting to wonder where my other two kids are. It is quiet in here now...and that scares me!

The Last Word of a Bluebird

As I went out a Crow
In a low voice said, "Oh,
I was looking for you.
How do you do?
I just came to tell you
To tell Lesley (will you?)
That her little Bluebird
Wanted me to bring word
That the north wind last night
That made the stars bright
And made the ice on the trough
Almost made him cough
His tail feathers off.
He just had to fly!
But he sent her Good-by,
And said to be good,
And wear her red hood,
And look for skunk tracks
In the snow with an ax -
And do everything!
And perhaps in the spring
He would come back and sing.

What a wonderful weekend!

I have not had time this weekend to do much reading. My mother and father-in-law came for a visit along with my sister-in-law and her roommate. Thursday was spent preparing for their arrival. This means the extra pile of laundry sitting in the hallway finally got washed, little fingerprints were actually removed from the mirrors in the living room, and the dog was bathed.  Along with a few other things I have been avoiding! (Dusting...oy!) Friday, I realized I needed to shovel the snow and get to the store for some things. What a disaster that turned out to be! After making a path to my van, I started to dig around it in order for my kids to have a clear path.  For some odd reason, the snow shovel broke! The shovel part just fell plum off. I stood there thinking for a few moments. At first, I was flabbergasted with the situation; however, I thought to myself, "Perhaps a rake will work!"  I actually thought this.  I don't think the outcome needs explained.  At this point, I simply get into my van, start it, and turn on the heat.  I go back inside, bundle up the kids, and sit back in my chair and think.  My two oldest kids are standing there looking at me confused. I ask them if they are ready to go, and they look at each other weird.  They are standing there in their snow boots and coats with their hats and gloves on.  So, we get into the van, and I get them all buckled up.  I then climb into the driver's seat and shut the door.  And we sit there....and I think...and we sit there...and I think...

Well, for a little background information, I am not feeling well at this time.  I have an ulcer, so the stomach pain sometimes keeps my mind on it instead of other things such as snow.  I also had a head cold!

Anyhow, I am sitting there thinking because I wasn't for sure how I was going to get out of my driveway! Even if I somehow managed to clear my driveway with a rake, I would never be able to shovel the entire alley! I was defeated.  I look in the rear view mirror, and my three kids are staring back at me.  I unbuckle my seat belt, and I am about to open my door when my cell phone rings.  Incoming call from Dad. 

"Hello."
"What are you doing?"
"Sitting in my car thinking."
"Where are the kids?"
"In their car seats waiting for me to think of something."
"Are you trying to get out?"
"No, we just enjoying thinking in the van."
"......"
"Yes, Dad, we are trying to get out."
"I have someone coming today before noon to plow for you."
"Oh, really?"
"I will meet him there."

That was the gist of the conversation.  My dad showed up within 5 minutes, followed by another guy with a plow!  How lucky was this? Well, the rest of the weekend went smoothly. I was still not feeling well, but I enjoy my husband's family's company.  After they left, we went shopping in Kokomo.  My husband surprised me with a new wedding ring!  We got married almost two years ago, but we had limited funds.  So, my weekend ended with a high note.  Now, it is 5a.m. Monday morning, I have been up since 3a.m.  Darn stomach ulcer!

Dust of Snow

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.

Into My Own/Fire and Ice

I first discovered my love of Robert Frost poetry in high school.  Since then, I have found a couple of biographies about his life and the complete collection of his poems.  I flip through the pages and reread the poems on days when the weather keeps me indoors.  As Frost himself wrote, "Read it a hundred times:  it will forever keep its freshness as a metal keeps its fragrance.  It can never lose its sense of a meaning that once unfolded by surprise as it went."  This is so true! When I find a book I enjoy, I like to go back and read it again years later.  There is always something I either missed the first time, or something which impacts me in a new way because of the differences in my own life.

So far, while reading selections from the pods, the stories always trigger a thought in my mind of the poetry by Robert Frost.  While reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, I thought of the poem Into My Own.

One of my wishes is that those dark trees,
So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze,
Were not, as 'twere, the merest mask of gloom,
But stretched away unto the edge of doom.

I should not be withheld but that some day
Into their vastness I should steal away,
Fearless of ever finding open land,
Or highway where the slow wheel pours the sand.

I do not see why I should e'er turn back,
Or those should not set forth upon my track
To overtake me, who should miss me here
And long to know if still I hold them dear.

They would not find me changed from him they knew...
Only more sure of all I thought was true.

So, I have decided to come Into My Own while reading the literature of this time period.  I want to make my own assumptions of the meaning behind each individual story and use the messages to help make decisions in my life because I believe every book read impacts a person's view on the world around them.

Moments ago, I finished reading At The 'Cadian Ball and The Storm by Kate Chopin.  I was intrigued by the characters.  The chief emotion I felt while reading these stories was desire.  Everyone in the first story desired someone else.  Not all of the characters walked away with the person they wanted.  In the storm, Alcee and Calixta gave into their desire while alone in Calixta's barricaded home.  Whenever I think of desire, I remember the poem Fire and Ice.  Both Alcee's and Calixta's marriages could have been ruined by the fire of their desire. 

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.