Four episodes of tears

Rose is four months and one day old. At 7.36 this morning I was woken by gurgling and cooing. I untangled myself from our new ugly striped flannel sheets and followed the noise. She was lying skewed in her crib, legs in the air, with an enormous gummy smile. It was, undoubtedly, the best way to wake up in the morning.

In a few hours, B will be home from New Zealand and my odyssey into single parenthood will be over for the time being. It has been quite a roller coaster. I have cried four times; one, writing a miss you email to Brent, two, Rose wouldn't go down (but I quickly realized because she needed to burp), three, top chef finale, and four, I can;t remember but I know there was another time. This emotion obviously means I've been living close to the edge these past nine days. But, I did it. I have been able to look after an infant, dog and house alone simultaneously without causing pain or destruction to any of them. Except the scorch mark on the coffee table that is currently hidden by a coaster.

Together is definitely better than alone. I'm ready for a weekend of the three of us and less nappy changing.

On Thursday, President Obama accepted his Nobel Peace Prize in Oslo. The speech reminded me that he is a leader worth following. His considered view of humanity rings true for me. Here'e one example from the speech that I would have highlighted:

"But we do not have to think that human nature is perfect for us to still believe that the human condition can be perfected. We do not have to live in an idealized world to still reach for those ideals that will make it a better place. The non-violence practiced by men like Gandhi and King may not have been practical or possible in every circumstance, but the love that they preached -- their fundamental faith in human progress -- that must always be the North Star that guides us on our journey."

Of course we will make mistakes. The important thing, as Obama is saying, is to not repeat then again and again, but to learn from them and become better. You can forgive yourself if you learn from your mistakes. You can't forgive yourself if you make mistakes and fail to change.

Many different hats

I'm pretty pleased with myself. Seven days of being a solo mum down, three more to go. So far I have stuck to my plan of at least one social interaction a day. I have been to breast-feeding group mum and dad group, book club, explored Whole Foods, had brunch, made wreaths at the biology department. Having Rose has really pushed me to get out and do stuff. I suppose I can't stay hidden inside anymore, she will become socially inept. No more backing out of invites. Thing is, I'm really enjoying myself. It is lovely to be with a group of new mums and it is lovely to go into school and be a teacher. I'm enjoying my different hats, but I still do like my alone time too.

Article about marriage that has me thinking these past few days

I miss you

I really miss you. My man is not here. There are no trident wrappers on tables or dishes in the sink. There are no warm hands reaching out to hug me when I get back into bed in the middle of the night. There are no lips asking for smooches or lips to give smooches to. There is no one to listen to Rose laugh or scream. There are no cheeky giggles after farts. There is no body for me to wrap my legs around. But, there are cashmere sweaters that I can get lost in and sock I can wear without you knowing. There is Skype and photographs. There is your smell. But you are not hear and I miss you.

Dear Santa

Today I learned about "Operation Santa Claus." It was started in the 1920s by workers in a New York post office. Every year the post office would receive hundreds of letters to Santa from poor children. The workers began to put their money together to send presents to the children. Now, members of the public are able to go to post offices and look through "Dear Santa" letters, choose up to ten and send gifts to the children described in them.
I went to the post office and chose two letters today. The first is from a single mother who lost her job this year; she has a four year old girl and a nine year old boy. The second is written by a friend of a single father with a one year old and a three year old; the father does not know the friend has written the letter for him. The cynical part of me wants to think that these folks may just be lobbying for some free stuff. But the Christmas loving sentimental side of me is thinking that buying these kids some gifts ($10 limit) and sending them with a note from "Santa" is a pretty simple and wonderful thing to do. So I am off to amazon to buy Rose some stuff and spend $40 on some kids I will never know, but may be able to make smile.