i knew you would appreciate this: i was nursing dash early one morning and finn came in and crawled in bed with me. this generally causes dash to unlatch and swing his head around every time she moves or speaks. since i was trying to unclog a milk duct, this was a tad bothersome. the clogged duct has been a recurring problem and i've taken the time to explain it to finn when i've needed some privacy so that dash won't get distracted. this particular morning, when dash swung his head around and my boob flopped (quite painfully) out of his mouth, finn looked over his body at my nipple and said in the sweetest voice possible 'oh NO, mommy! you have a milk blister! poor mommy!' that moment...the tiny four year old being my nurse, my comrade, my empathetic little lady flipped some sort of switch in me and i saw her understanding of life start to overlap with what i teach her and i felt so....so comforted. and then the blister finally popped and i was able to unclog the duct. and everything felt....righted. (this was rambling, i know. but i figured it anyone would understand, it would be you.)
what i thought love was is so much less than what it is
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Someone may have stolen your dream when it was young and fresh and you were innocent. Anger is natural. Grief is appropriate. Healing is mandatory. Restoration is possible. -Jane Rubietta
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"Poetry has nothing to do with poetry. Poetry is how the air goes green before thunder. Is the sound you make when you come, and why you live and how you bleed, and The sound you make or don't make when you die."- Gwendolyn MacEwen
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"Her looks fading, the vain Lispector became increasingly reclusive and demanding. Addicted to cigarettes and sleeping pills, she exhibited erratic and sometimes imperious behavior. She would call friends in the middle of the night and flee dinner parties for little apparent reason. She had a reputation for being a liar."-<em>NYT on Clarice Lispector
My dear child, who can tell? One can only tell that, by remembering something which happened where we lived before; and as we remember nothing, we know nothing about it; and no book, and no man, can ever tell us certainly.
Some couples don’t ask much of one another after they’ve worked out the fundamentals of jobs and children. Some live separate intellectual and cultural lives, and survive, but the most intense, most fulfilling marriages need, I think, to struggle toward some kind of ideological convergence. Norman Rush
That photo is just pure light, girl.
i knew you would appreciate this:
i was nursing dash early one morning and finn came in and crawled in bed with me. this generally causes dash to unlatch and swing his head around every time she moves or speaks. since i was trying to unclog a milk duct, this was a tad bothersome. the clogged duct has been a recurring problem and i've taken the time to explain it to finn when i've needed some privacy so that dash won't get distracted.
this particular morning, when dash swung his head around and my boob flopped (quite painfully) out of his mouth, finn looked over his body at my nipple and said in the sweetest voice possible 'oh NO, mommy! you have a milk blister! poor mommy!'
that moment...the tiny four year old being my nurse, my comrade, my empathetic little lady flipped some sort of switch in me and i saw her understanding of life start to overlap with what i teach her and i felt so....so comforted.
and then the blister finally popped and i was able to unclog the duct.
and everything felt....righted.
(this was rambling, i know. but i figured it anyone would understand, it would be you.)
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