Paperless Society?

This post may not be entirely eco-friendly of me. It might not seem tech savvy. It may seem a bit hypocritical, the electronic glow of the computer screen the only light as I sit here typing this at 3 a.m. But since finishing a book tonight I have not been able to get these thoughts from my head and so I submit them to you.

I look at the new e-readers and cell phone applications designed to put thousands of books immediately at your fingertips and instead of the excitement that some feel I can't help but feel a bit sad. There is a comfort in picking up a book. The weight of the book matches the expectations for what you may find between its covers. The heft can seem a bit daunting upon beginning but after finishing it feels like a badge of accomplishment. A new book with a pristine spine is like a new acquaintance, opening to you slowly and requiring some effort. But a book that has been well loved, read and re-read over the years will show you all the familiarity of an old friend. And whether it be the quick turn of a page from a reader dying to resolve their curiosity, the languid turn of a bored student flipping through a text book, or the heavy handed thunk of a toddler turning the thick pages of a picture book there is simple joy to be found in the feel of those pages between your fingers.

While I am not often moved to tears by movies, I am a sucker for a sad book. In this there is something else that an electronic version of a book or poem will never have. There is something almost poetic about teardrops on the page of a book, concrete evidence that something written on those pages has touched you as you touched those pages.

There are also certain sounds that come with reading. The sounds of the turning pages of different books are as varied as the voices of different people. The crackling of the spine of a book is like cracking knuckles. I enjoy a lot of sounds. I love music and the sound of rain coming down on the roof. I love the contented sighs of a sleeping baby. I actually like the creaking of an old wood floor. I love laughter and the sound of cards shuffling and the early morning sounds of the beach. But I can't think of anything more personally satisfying than the soft thud of closing the back cover of the book that you have just finished. And I find that the more books I read, the more chapters I take in, the more lines I ingest, the more words I devour- the more I cherish that sound.

It seems however that we have entered a digital age. People are beginning to prefer digital photo albums and digital picture frames, electronic copies of books and magazines, and doing crossword puzzles online. But I hope to one day write a book. I don't know what it will be about. I don't know when I will write it. But I can tell you this;

I hope that one day if I ever do write a book it will touch people's imaginations, their hearts, and also their hands.

Reminders

A friend of a friend is going through something terrible right now. She is burying her husband of only ten months, the father of her two month old baby girl. The worst part is that this wife and baby girl have been sharing their Marine with us, with our entire country. He never even got to hold his daughter.

God works in mysterious ways. My heart breaks for this young woman who is dealing with more heart ache, sadness, and pain than I can even imagine but my heart also swells with love for my husband and two boys. I hope that we can all not only take time today to pray for Rachel, daughter Ariana, and all of Cpl Jonathan D. Porto's family and friends but also to take inventory of all the good we have in our lives. Let's think about how lucky we are for the time that we have with loved ones.

The title of my blog, "Live. Love. Laugh. But Mostly Love." is how I feel about this sad news. I hope that everyone who reads this takes time today to love someone and to celebrate life and love. I pray that in Florida Mrs. Porto has found the strength to do the impossible- to celebrate a life that was ended too soon.

My prayers and thoughts will be with Rachel today though I've never met her. I will take time to pray for all of the soldiers, sailors, and Marines that sacrifice everything for us. But I think even more importantly I will take time today in honor of Cpl Jonathan D. Porto to love my family, to kiss my children, to talk to my husband and to really truly and honestly do my best to live, love, and laugh.




Here is a link to Mrs. Porto's blog- http://www.alittlepinkinaworldofcamo.blogspot.com/
And if anyone is interested in making a donation there is information there on a trust fund being set up for two month old Ariana.

To Love and Be Loved

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

-From Margery Williams' The Velveteen Rabbit

The Velveteen Rabbit is another book that is as endearing to adults as it is to children. Looking at this book from the perspective of a child (when did that become so difficult?) it is a love story between a child and his play thing, his source of comfort. As an adult it takes on so much more meaning. That rabbit begins to symbolize ourselves. We understand how the rabbit feels when he is snubbed by the "fancy" mechanical toys for being plain. We know the joy he feels when the boy chooses him to love. We know the heartbreak that he feels when he can no longer be with the boy.

To me the most memorable part of this book is when the Velveteen Rabbit first sees the real rabbits. He realizes that although he loves the boy and being his toy that there is something beyond that. Although in the story the Velveteen Rabbit is parted from the boy because of an illness I look at him leaving the boy more as a metaphorical death. The rabbit has been loved, is old and tattered, is worn and tired. He is all of us in our old age and although he is no longer with the boy he becomes REAL. He becomes a rabbit who can dance and hop and leap and twirl. I would love to imagine Heaven as a place where we can leave behind all of our limitations, where we can become everything that we have always wanted to be and I think that is the reason that this book is so well loved.

The Velveteen Rabbit faces feelings of inadequacy, hopes for love and finds it, lives a long life with the boy, and then after he and the boy are parted finally gets to dance and jump as high as the sky. This book is a wonderful metaphor for life and I hope that we all have such a happy ending.

Help Me if You Can- I've Got to Get Back to the House at Pooh Corner by one...

Continuing along in my series of children's books I will focus today on "The House at Pooh Corner". I chose to highlight this book rather than "Winnie the Pooh" which preceded it because I find Pooh Corner to be a little deeper and more rewarding to an adult reader. It is a tale not only of make believe but also of growing up and having to leave those dreams behind.

If the only Winnie the Pooh that you are familiar with is the one portrayed in the Disney movies I hope that one day you will read the books. A.A.Milne writes with particular wit and poignancy about the endless imaginings that occur in the mind of the very young. The difference between the books and the cartoon movies is like the difference between a stuffed version of the "Disney Pooh" and the "Classic Pooh". Classic Pooh may be less flashy and less recognizable but he is also more believable. He could be the stuffed bear of any small boy or girl, maybe even a bear that sat on the shelf of your own childhood bedroom.

The House at Pooh Corner is a chapter book that introduces us to Tigger as well as continuing the stories of the characters that we met in Milne's "Winnie the Pooh". In this book our friends play Pooh Sticks, build Eeyore a house, and go on a great many adventures. Though the characters are simple their relationships are deep. I could go on for ages but I think this passage from the book speaks for itself.

“Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. "Pooh," he whispered.

"Yes, Piglet?"

"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw, "I just wanted to be sure of you."”


Again, I could turn this into a manifesto on Pooh so I will just keep to what I think is the driving force in this book, the ending of childhood.

The last chapter of "The House at Pooh Corner" is also the last chapter of all the Pooh stories. Earlier in the book when discussing the game of Pooh sticks we learn about the stream that they play the game in.

By the time it came to the edge of the Forest, the stream had grown
up, so that it was almost a river, and, being grown-up, it did not run
and jump and sparkle along as it used to do when it was younger,
but moved more slowly. For it knew now where it was going, and it
said to itself, "There is no hurry. We shall get there some day."

This is a beautiful metaphor for growing up and indicative of Milne's style. This book is full of witticisms, life lessons, relationships, and wisdom without seeming too heavy or forced. And like the stream knows that it must one day become a river Milne knows that Christopher Robin must grow up and that the stories of Pooh must come to an end. At the end of the book there is a heartwarming conversation between Christopher Robin and Pooh in an "enchanted place" and you are left with a sense of biter sweet sadness. I question whether most readers understand that they are sad not only for Pooh who must say goodbye to Christopher Robin but also for themselves and their own lost childhood. But in the last lines Milne wraps the story up very nicely leaving us with the hope that in some ways our innocence and imagination live on. It is a testament also to the written word as through this book Pooh takes on a life of his own and becomes not just a little boy's plaything but a friend to children everywhere. Incidentally the same words that end the book were read at the funeral of Christopher Robin Milne.

"So they went off together. But wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on the top of the Forest a little boy and his Bear will always be playing."

The Wisdom of Children's Literature

There is a reason that Alice in Wonderland is going to do well in the theaters as it comes out this weekend. We love to revisit the stories of our childhood. Is there something in the act of writing for a child that brings out the best in authors? Some of the truest and most profound things I have ever read are written for children.

The books that live on through the ages are those that a parent re-reads to their own child and in so doing discovers new meaning, renewed exuberance for literature and life. So I hope to go over some of my favorites and re-read them myself and maybe for the first time to my children this week. If you have children I encourage you to read these books again or maybe for the first time. I will try not to spoil the books for those of you who haven't read them but just to highlight what I love about them. So today I begin with "Le Petit Prince" or the Little Prince because this book encompasses the spirit of my list. It teaches us that "grown ups" often subscribe to the importance of numbers, "worth", and importance and the little prince reminds us that sometimes it is best to think like a child, see with our hearts, and to remember that we were all children once.

"That is the hardest thing of all. It is much harder to judge yourself than to judge others. If you succeed in judging yourself, it's because you're truly a wise man."

The Little Prince. written by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, has been translated into more than 180 languages and sold more than 80 million copies. [1] This may be a bit of a stretch as it is arguable that this book was not really written for children but nonetheless it is in the format of a child's story. If you haven't read this book or haven't read it for a long time I highly recommend it. The basic plot is that a "little prince" visiting Earth from his home on an asteroid comes across the author in the desert and tells him stories of his home and his travels. The little prince astonishes the author with his insight and depth and makes several points that all of us "grown ups" could stand to re-learn. The author also provides simple but beautiful illustrations that match the tone of the novella. The lessons The Little Prince teaches are extremely relevant in today's society. In fact the recent media coverage of Heidi Montag and her plastic surgery reminded me of something that The Little Prince tells a rose, "You're lovely, but you're empty". I could go on and on with the lessons that the Little Prince could teach those "celebrities" that our nation obsesses over but I will leave you to come up with your own moral musings.

I will just leave you with a few of my favorite passages and hope that you too will fall in love with the story of the boy from asteroid B-612.




"Grown-ups like numbers. When you tell them about a new friend, they never ask questions about what really matters. They never ask: 'What does his voice sound like?' 'What games does he like best?' 'Does he collect butterflies?'. They ask: 'How old is he?' 'How many brothers does he have?' 'How much does he weigh?' 'How much money does his father make?' Only then do they think they know him."

"One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes."

And mostly.... I hope to remind you...

"All grown-ups were children first. (But few remember it)."

Spread the word to end the word. 3-3-10

March third is the day of awareness for the "Spread the word to end the word" campaign, an attempt to remove the word retard, which is used almost exclusively as a put down, from our vocabulary. Check them out and spread their message.

As a mother I understand that love is unconditional and that I would do anything to protect my child. So advocating this event is a small, small, attempt to provide support to people with disabilities with special reverence of their loving families. I cannot imagine how hard it would be to deal with the hardships that come with being disabled or having a disabled child. But I know that just like any other disability people with intellectual disabilities are just people trying to get by, enjoy life, find love, to prosper. The last thing that a person with an intellectual disability should have to hear is someone using the word retard as a slander.

It saddens me that a child who may be labeled as "mentally retarded" should hear that word being thrown around with such disregard. I've used the term myself but when I take even a second to think about what the repercussions of the word are I know that I will never again use the term in such a thoughtless hurtful way. I just keep picturing myself as the mother of a child with an intellectual disability and I know that it would break my heart for them to hear the way that people use that word. So March third I will be spreading the word to end the word and I hope that you will too. And I hope that you will take this pledge with me today.

I pledge and support the elimination of the derogatory use of the r-word from everyday speech and promote the acceptance and inclusion of people with intellectual disabilities.

Hello, My Name Is...

I've wanted to start a blog to chronicle my daily life for quite a while now. I may be a bit behind in doing this as a New Year's Resolution but as a mother of two children under the age of three I'm usually a bit behind in everything that I do. But nonetheless, here it is- the story of my daily life. This isn't necessarily all about babies, children, or family but I'm sure that those topics will monopolize most of my posts. But here you will find out about what I'm reading, what my beautiful boys are doing, things I like and don't like, and my opinions on a myriad of other things. I hope to leave you with things to think about, things to smile about, things to laugh at, sometimes things to fume over, but mostly to share my love with you.

I hope that I can articulate the love that comes with being young, married, and the mother of two as well as the frustrations and headaches that sometimes accompany that. I hope that I can convey one tenth of the happiness that I feel when looking at a sleeping child or one tenth of the heart ache that comes with their tears. I hope to bring laughter as I share the sillier moments. I hope to share the sense of what's to come, the unlimited possibilities that are children. Mostly I hope I can show you that although you may look at me and see nothing spectacularly important I feel like the luckiest woman on Earth.

I would like to end my first official blog post with this. Take from it what you will. And please, please, if you haven't read Shel Silverstein go out and buy a book of his poetry.

Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.