Sunday, January 29, 2006

Quotes on Love

We don't love qualities, we love persons; sometimes by reasons of their defects as well as of their qualities.
- Jacques Maritain


Spontaneous and honest love admits errors, hesitations, and human failings; it can be tested and repaired.
- Nancy Friday


Whoso loves
Believes the impossible.
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning


Love me like a lovely dream...
- Flavien Ranaivo

Morsels of Poetry: At Least

At Least - Raymond Carver
I want to get up early on more morning,
before sunrise. Before the birds, even.
I want to throw cold water on my face
and be at my work table
when the sky lightens and smoke
begins to rise from the chimneys

of the other houses.
I want to see the waves break

on this rocky beach, not just hear them

break as I did all night in my sleep.

I want to see again the ships

that pass through the Strait from every

seafaring country in the world...

I want to spend the day watching this happen

and reach my own conclusions.
I hate to seem greedy -- I have so much

to be thankful for already.

But I want to get up early one more morning at least.
And go to my place with some coffee and wait.

Just wait, to see what's going to happen.


This poem speaks to me in so many ways. I love to wake up early to seek my quiet time; ironically I also like to stay awake late because it gives me a chance not to be alone.

Two years ago, we went beach-camping with friends in Massachussetts. We put the kids to bed in the tents and walked along the shore. We grabbed our wine glasses and sat in the moonlight to talk. It was July 4th weekend, so we looked for stray fireworks and enjoyed the silence that comes afterwards.

Anyway, I woke up at 5 a.m. I slept on top of rock (though I'm no princess, this was no pea!) Also, the sunlight shot through our tent. I felt like the elements were pulling me to get up.

I want to see the waves break
on this rocky beach, not just hear them
break as I did all night in my sleep.

I love to walk along any beach. This one was different, as there was a walking path along the campgrounds. And, I passed all the campers, silent with sleep. I was fascinated by the campsites and how people added their own little homelike touches (e.g., windchimes). This was a different experience than walking on an island beach. This was definitely inhabited, but the inhabitants were still in their trees.

when the sky lightens and smoke
begins to rise from the chimneys
of the other houses.

I still remember the beauty of that morning - the sun, the chill in the air, the stiffness of my body releasing itself.

While I enjoy being with my friends and family, I desperately seek my space to reflect and be me. And, sometimes I do feel selfish for wanting this. It's also a cultural anamoly for Indians - they don't understand the concept of wanting to be alone, have privacy. Fortunately, those who know me, do understand eventually.

But then, am I asking for so much?

I hate to seem greedy -- I have so much
to be thankful for already.
But I want to get up early one more morning at least.
And go to my place with some coffee and wait.
Just wait, to see what's going to happen.

Thursday, January 26, 2006

On the Job Training: Motherhood 10 - Mean Kids

I should be going to bed, but I need to sort this out.

Why are kids mean? You are 4 years old, 5 tops. What are you - 35lbs? 40 because you eat mac/cheese every night? Why do you have to burp in my daughter's face? Why do you have to push and tease? Why do you need to throw dirt in her hair?

She's talking to me slowly about things, and I want to make sure I keep the conversation flowing. My mom would jump to conclusions and act upon them, and we learned it was better to keep it to ourselves. It's too early for that.

She's missing her daddy who's travelling. So, I think that's one emotional sore spot. For the man who swears she's "Mommy's Girl" there's no denying Daddy is her man.

So, maybe she's more vulnerable and sensitive these days.

In my other blog about Finding Neverland, I said it's great because you're reliving your childhood through your children. On the other hand, you're reliving your childhood through your children.

When she told me Gianna punched her in the stomach, I was shocked. I've seen Gianna and she's very disobedient. Her mother was talking to the teacher and Gianna was touching decorations, knocking over things - all in 5 minutes. The mom tried to control her, but I don't know. I heard Gianna gets in trouble all the time.

So, I asked her "Do you punch her back?" And she said, "No, you're not allowed to hit."

Ok. Fine.

Now, my plan is for her to scream at the top of her lungs "GO AWAY!" or yell "NO" and not be afraid. I've given her the role model -- Kim Possible -- who always kicks Evil butt. She liked that idea. And, I've also told her not to cry because that's what they want to see (said the woman who cries during Campbell Soup commercials)

There's also an Indian boy in her class, Satyam. He's been a challenge too. I talked to the teacher about it back in November, and she agreed. He seems to like her and will be a little physical with her. The teacher said sometimes she's laughing and having fun. But, then he'll crossover and get too rough. Then, it's a big issue. So, the good thing is that the teachers are aware and try to keep them separate as much.

Great, so now she's met her first Indian guy who sending her mixed signals. (I'm sure there will be many more in her future.)

Girls definitely put an emphasis on the social aspect of going to school. She tells me "Janice told me to wear this shirt." (Excuse me? does Janice do the laundry around here? I don't think so)

Positive side: There is a new girl Jessie and the teacher said the two have become quite close. A was very friendly and inviting, and Jessie's mom mentioned it to me. (I had no idea who her child was, but it turns out she's a part timer). Seeing that A was the new kid 4 months ago, I know it's important.

Tomorrow's pajama day at school. And, we have jeans day at work. (I hope I can keep that straight and not show up in my pajamas to work!)

**** Addendum ****
I watched 20/20 last night with a box of tissues. They had a mother/daughter special with all types of interviews.

Deborah Tannen talked about communication between mothers/daughters. She said daughters will hide things from their mother when they know they'll disapprove. (Yep, I know I did that). So, I'm going to try to be nonjudgmental. And, it's funny how the moms said everything they do for their daughters is out of love for them, while the daughters just hear criticisms. I know that's the way it's been for my mother and me. God, I can't believe I had to be a mother to finally "get" my mother. I still don't agree with her and think she could've done things differently, but now I understand her motivations.

By the way, even if nothing in the world makes you cry, this certainly would - Erin Kramp's Story. As she was dying of cancer, she videotaped life lessons and stories for her daughter to view as she grew up. To know that your daughter will not have you there is unbearable.

Anyway, I got some poems out of watching the show - will post them later. There was a quote I once read - If there are no tears in the writer, there are no tears in the reader. So, be warned, there were lots of tears.

Sunday, January 22, 2006

A Life Outside of Work

There is a woman at my company ("Alice") with whom I rarely have interaction outside of the lunchroom. We say hello and once, she confronted me in the bathroom and asked me why I don't talk to her. I was quite taken aback because there are a lot of other people I don't talk to either. It was quite unnerving and rather high school, considering this woman has probably welcomed 50. After that incident, I made a concerted effort to be more friendly to her and find some small talk topics. However, her bluntness put me on alert, and I knew others had dealt with her bold attitude.

The other day, I was fatigued from sitting at my desk and needed a break. I found Alice in the lunchroom. She asked me about my daughter and I told her some little incidents, and the usual "Yep, they sure grow up fast." discussion. I asked her about her children and she said her two sons were late 20's, but she recently adopted a 12 year old boy. Her eyes lit up and she was giggling about him. Now, we ended up talking for a good 15 minutes about this.

She had wanted to adopt a boy and knew that "God would give me what I could handle." She told me how the boy's mother had died years ago, father was incarcerated and he lived with the stepfather and half-sister. He was moved from relative to relative and finally entered the "system" in March. Fortunately, she was able to come forth in June and bring him out.

She said she will fully adopt him in May/June of this year. Just having a stable home and someone to call "Mom" has helped him so much. When he whipped out the attitude, she stopped him right there. As a church-going woman, she introduced him to a strong community. He spends weekends going to tutors; he used to hang out on the street or riding his bike around.

She saw him work towards his first A and B's on his report card and he was so proud of himself. Having the unstable home life never gave him a chance to focus on school. He saw the immediate rewards and lit his own fire.

Alice pointed out she's very open to letting him see his family, especially his sister. However, the boy is coming to realize that his feelings towards them are not being reciprocated. He would often call his stepfather during the week, but no one would call him. She prepared him that at Christmas time, he may not receive gifts from them, but still went there. He came home disappointed that they all showed off the sister's gifts but no one bothered to get him anything. Alice said that since Christmas, he has not gone back there, making his own decision to distance himself from that environment.

I know that my daughter is very protected and that one little ripple has a profound effect on her. I cannot imagine what children who are not protected must face. Alice pointed out that he had a lot of behavioral problems, but an emphasis on discipline and straight talk helped shape his attitude.

Anyway, it was great talking and learning about her as a person and her life outside of work. Work is a mere 8 hours of our day - we all have so much more to do and accomplish in life. I really admire her for taking on the challenge and helping a child. I mentioned the movie "Born into Brothels" to her and how some kids do not even know they have options in life. But, it's a matter of reaching out and helping them. I have friends who have adopted babies from India. It's so hard to fathom that the little "prince/princess" in their house is one degree away from living and growing up in the harshest conditions. Offering a child a hand out of a situation is the biggest gift anyone can give. Not only do you help that child, but you help the generations that follow him/her.

Bubbles (My Poetry)

Bless me, Dr Agaston, for I have sinned.

Her question was innocent,
yet alluring.
Would you like some chocolates
from Switzerland?

How could I say no?

Rows of perfectly round
brown balls of sugar
and caramel, lined in a
tawny rainbow beckoned me,
hailed me as a friend, though
I had ignored them.

With precision and delight of exploring
the unknown, I selected a cocoa thrill.

As I broke into the dark bonbon shell,
my mouth stirred with sensation
of sinful succulence.

This was beyond human design.
Truly a cosmic collision
birthed the truffle. The heavens,
earth and spirits had combined
to be able to deliver the
feathery filling spilling
from a solid sphere.

The soft cream clutched its other,
wanting to be whole.
I obliged.

Another chocolate ball rolled from
its paper throne into my palm.

Thursday, January 19, 2006

Grease 2 is the Word

Allow me to push aside all my poetry, and make some room for cheese.
I was flipping channels, trying to decide between three reality shows and Fashion Police, I stopped on the movie "Grease 2."

Summer of freshman year of high school, "Grease 2" was on HBO every six hours. We were obsessed with the original "Grease" when we were in elementary school. And, now we were ready for the next group of Rydell friends. Stephanie Zinone and Michael Carrington.

So, here I am.. fairly well-adjusted woman, wife, mother, professional, etc. Here comes Maxwell Caulfield with his pouty lips, and I start squealing. Where did that come from?

I thought he was absolutely dreamy and ten times better than John Travolta (well, you can't compare him to the John Travolta of today though. No one can touch The Man today.).

Anyway, I was trying to see what the big attraction is to this movie. Maybe as a thirteen year old, we identified with Stephanie's desires for something new, someone new..Remember 'Cool Rider'?

If he's cool enough,
He can burn me through and through.
Whhoa ohhhh
If it takes forever, Then I'll wait forever.
No ordinary boy, no ordinary boy is gonna do.
I want a rider that's cool.

I had Maxwell's pictures all over my locker; if only there was a guy like him in my school. He had that James Dean brood, but a real spark to him.

Anyway, so not only do I love cable tv for playing 20 year old movies for the heck of it, I love the internet. I found Grease2, a site officially dedicated to this movie. (I have trouble finding time to dedicate to a site for myself - I don't know how people do it!).

So, it seems they've had some reunions and our man Maxwell has aged quite nicely. :-) Anyway, will leave you with more lyrics..
Stephanie: You were the one, the one in my dreams, but I never knew it.
Michael: I wanted to tell you time and again, but I couldn't do it.
Stephanie: All that you are is all that I need, no more pretending.
Michael: Now I can be me, and you can be you,
Stephanie & Michael: And we're never-ending, whoa oh oh...We'll be together, always together. Like birds of a feather, forever and ever, We'll be together.

Morsels of Poetry: Life, Love, Books and Metaphors

Found these on

Between The Covers
C.J. Heck
Gentle man, you hold me
like a treasured book
as if memorizing every line.

In your hands,
I feel new meaning
breathed into my pages.

Seductive bookworm,
no one has ever read me
quite like you, nor ever will again.

Passionate reader,
I love how you bookmark
your favorite chapter
between the covers at night...

Open Book
- M. Rose Davis
You say you know me
I’m an open book
You read each word
but have you really looked.

Hidden in the lines
Across my pages
Are my deepest secrets
They’ve been there for ages

Read my words
For I am there
But if you can’t find me
Do not despair.

(This one is sad)

The Book of Your Life
- J.A. SpahrSummers
And so I gently close this book
The adventures of your life intact
Africa Europe Hong Kong Brazil
There and back again and again
Never quite willing to give it up
Breathing a crushing sigh of relief
As I feel for your pulse my eyes
Glued to your bare chest and
Blessing the lack of movement
Mother watching fearfully from
Down the hall her hands cover
Her mouth lamenting the need
For such pain and this moment

Saturday, January 14, 2006

Bubbles (My Poems):

Friday Evening Ramblings

Crimson nights upon the floor
Tell me more
Tell me more than
I know. And when I don't
want anymore, then I shall
ask you for more
and you shall
oblige me
by telling me stories
and poems
and limericks
of yore.

The second star to the right
The stars from afar,
what are you trying
to tell me?
Whisper into my mind
and set me straight
onto the path that leads me to the