Speaking of Motherhood...

Slate.com pleasantly surprised me this afternoon by providing additional material-- "Motherhood: Six great articles on older moms, surrogate moms, moms who drink and more". So, there are some more thoughts on the topic. Dig in.

When I got here, one of my best friends had just given birth to her beautiful daughter (whom I didn't get a chance to meet, due to my cold), another couple friends were trying to conceive and subsequently succeeded in doing so, and yet another friend was a few months along in her pregnancy.

I have any number of friends who've been parents for years whether they've adopted or given birth to their children. I've heard about and witnessed all kinds of parental (and specifically maternal) misadventures.





I don't know what it's like to be a parent. But I think I've been around long enough to realize that should you choose it, parenting is the most important task/joy you can undertake in your life.

I might blame my dear friend Christopher for having posted this on his Facebook wall on 17 November 2012: "The plain fact is that the planet does not need more successful people. But it does desperately need more peacemakers, healers, restorers, storytellers, and lovers of every kind. It needs people who live well in their places. It needs people of moral courage willing to join the fight to make the world habitable and humane. And these qualities have little to do with success as we have defined it. -David Orr"

Well? I don't think we can meet this need without exceptional and giving parents. We can't do it without parents who're willing to put the needs of their families (themselves included) ahead of desire, want. Now, I've taught in a classroom, and I know that while teachers can do a lot, I know that most of us (in a given American high school, for example) only see our students five hours out of every week. It's not an ideal chunk of time for teaching peacemaking, healing, restoration, storytelling or moral courage.

So who gets that time with Our Future? Their parents, hopefully.

And this is where I'd like to posit, again: if you choose to be a parent (to raise children), there's nothing more important to be doing than that. All the things you do-- whether that's pursuing a successful, lucrative career or making yourself happy-- should be in the service of your children and family.

It's a really serious undertaking.



I began thinking about this when I started wondering whether my career pursuits and my hope to raise children someday were mutually exclusive. I have decided, for now, that they're not.

But I think some career pursuits might be. I hope, for example, for the sake of his children (for those two lives!), that Barack Obama is a better parent than he is a president. And I don't mean this to be a criticism of the man's administration; rather, I mean to say that I hope he loves being a dad more than he loves being the leader of the free world. I hope he gives more to the first undertaking than he does to the latter. And frankly, I have my doubts. The man hasn't got much time, but I hope he gives it to them when he can.

Because I have a sneaking suspicion that if more people were to focus on their loves, their children, and their ethics instead of their ambitions (regardless of the purity or motivation), the world would look much more like the place for which David Orr hopes.

I might have the huevos next time to get into the case of Aung San Suu Kyi, 1991 Nobel Peace Prize winner and Burmese opposition politician noted for her fifteen-year-long house arrest. She has two children. How much participation did she get to enjoy in their lives during this period?





What happens when we choose work (however ambitious, White Collar Criminal, noble, low-paying, average, peacemaking, prestigious) and prioritize that over the needs of our children and families?


Or, what happens when we choose work that serves the needs of our children?

It's the Vernal Equinox,

So I guess it's about time to make some New Year's Resolutions. At least, that's what some other people I know around here are doing. And this happened here today.

While celebration ensues, I take the cue to reflect. The list:

• 22:00 bedtime, excepting Wednesday nights and the weekend
• ninety minutes in the morning for running or writing or both
• don't live like a dude-- keep the fridge properly stocked with produce
• more Love Notes home
• five new dance moves
• determine a name for plant (flowering in the window since November)

Comparing Other American Things... Tomorrow, Motherhood!

The Grapes of Wrath and Little Miss Sunshine.

I've been thinking this for years, and apparently the following people have already done it:

• the author at A Fool's Gambit
• Sophie Maarleveld
• and JWD of Blanket in the Grove

And they've also supplied images.

Tomorrow, really, Motherhood!

Tonight's Reflections on American Music... Tomorrow, Motherhood!

Well, Justin Timberlake, on the night of your long-awaited album's release (seven years-- have we grown up so much?!), I'd rather be listening to Bonnie Raitt.

I won't even get into the high expectations that I had for you, except to say that I've been waiting for you to make the magical transformation (that was so easy for a monstrous talent like Leonardo DiCaprio) from pretty-faced legitimately talented twentysomething to a substantive artist. I'm not seeing it.

Of course, "Suit & Tie" was billed as the stinger, and it's not bad-- slick, catchy, and snappy. (Seriously though, if you're one of my gentle readers who doesn't want to watch a 'sexy' video, don't press play below.)

But really, JT? You're "gonna show [me] a few things about love"? Granted that as a certain kind of woman in her twenties I'm one of your main audiences?

I get it's pop music-- but the man's got the talent to step it up and make it more interesting: give us another vision of how people can relate to each other. On a related note, my last beef is Timberlake's persistence in using "girl" and "little baby" to denote his romantic partners. I mean, really, are you thirty-one or what?


Definitely throwing JT out of bed for the incomparable Bonnie Raitt any day.

----

OK, I'm not going to take it all back. I'll just add: it's not fair that this is such a goooood-sounding album.

Justin Timberlake, you've taught me another thing in the last few days: just because you wrap average (stereotypical, even) ideas in some pretty delightful and incredible music doesn't make the former exceptional. But you know what? I'm far from home, far from my love, and far from my books, so I'll take it.

Also, "Mirrors" might just be something interesting. I'd like to hear what you've got to say, Mr. Espinoza, on that subject.

To A Friend Before An Interview,

or Why The Foreign Service Needs More People Like You.




My Dear (Hey, Boo):

You're about to head into an interview. A big one. Maybe, you think, one of the most important interviews of your life. You have read the news. You have brushed up. You're nervous because you don't think you stand out. Your competition is an exceptional group.

Please don't forget that you are exceptional, too.



What makes you exceptional is not your work ethic, although that is incredible. You're broadly read (excepting J.K. Rowling, and this I don't hold against you), but you have developed focus, too.

It's not your cool intelligence under fire, either. When I haven't had words, you have spoken eloquently to advocate for me.

And it's not your natural gift for languages (yes, you polyglot, you).


What sets you apart from other candidates is your great, open heart.
You are one of the most loyal friends I know. Your love for your friends defends us from difficulty, difficult people, and even our difficult selves. You will stand by me and believe in my best self.
You don't engage in gossip, and you don't prejudice yourself against others. Your response to rumor-mongering: "Do you really know that person? How can you judge? How can we know what goes on with another person?" You allow yourself to be open to even the most socially marginalized people.
You are honest.

You can't put these things on a resume. So you're lucky it's an interview, because I know that you can remember all those things about "cones" and the current events, and you can remember who you are: the kind of open-hearted, steadfastly loyal, deeply caring person that is so desperately needed in the U.S. Foreign Service right now. People can learn languages, and they can memorize what's in the news, but they can't so easily learn what you've got.

Don't forget that. I only wonder: do you need the U.S. Foreign Service?

They Told Me Thanksgiving Would Be Hard...

... and it was. But February was much harder. I anticipate that (because I haven't solved my Skype issue-- internet connectivity too slow at my apartment, now) March may be, too.

There are a lot of things for which to be grateful in Bolu right now.

• My students
• The occasional sunshine
• The textbook I'm using
• The moon rise over the mountains

There are more. But it's late, and all that I really want to think about are:

• Ruby, Nora, and the rest of my family and friends
• My soccer team in Walla Walla
• Homemade preserves from Gleaner harvests
• My big book shelf
• What Erich's going to do with the rest of that facial hair
• My cats
• A lot of important birthdays that I'm going to miss
• A slice of Brooklyn Bridge pizza from Pagliacci
• A Dick's Drive-In cheeseburger and fries
• Taste of India
• Fish tacos from The Green
• My public library
• Looking at Lake Union from Gasworks Park

I miss you guys so much. I got two more letters in the mail today: one from Lynnwood, and one from Anchorage. Thank you so much for those. You are in my heart.