woke up to below zero temperatures today. our house is warm, and our car runs.
our neighborhood is not being bombed. we are very fortunate.

read this.

seven things you don't really need to know about me

i got tagged by robin at the other mother, who has asked me to reveal seven things about me that you really don't need to know. here they are, but i won't be tagging anyone else:

1. i secretly want to wear lipstick and heavy black eyeliner, but feel silly putting it on, even around the house.
2. i type very slowly. i only half-learned keyboarding skills. i know where to place my hands, but i always have to look.
   
3. i collect buttons-- the pin back kind, with political messages, images, or cute little sayings like: dip me in chocolate and throw me to the lesbians. i’ve been collecting them since high school. my favorites are the little one-inch ones, and someday i will get myself a button maker, and start making my own. until then, julie at craftknife sells some nice ones on her etsy site.
4. my dream job is to be the owner of an architectural/building supply salvage business. i would have a huge barn/warehouse and a big flatbed truck. i’d go around to building sites, and building demolitions and collect materials that would otherwise be thrown away. anything from bricks and lumber, to cabinet pulls and door stops. back at the warehouse, everything would be carefully sorted and organized, so that people could come and shop for what they needed.
5. i like salt on my grapefruit.
6. i am monolingual, and hugely embarrassed about it. i studied french in college, but can’t really speak it. i grew up (in part) in southern california, and lived in texas for eight years, and have never learned to speak spanish. shameful.
7. i’m horrified, heartbroken and distraught about what isreal is doing to the people in the gaza strip. i feel angry, helpless and hopeless whenever i hear about it, see images of it, or think about it. i know, a bit heavy for a meme, but it's on my mind...
   

pincer grasp

i remember seeing ida jane on christmas day. she had just mastered the pincer grasp, and was picking up tiny objects between her thumb and fore-finger--precisely, and delicately. it struck me as such a sophisticated thing for such a young baby. she was also cruising around on two feet, moving from coffee table to couch, getting ready to walk, but i was most impressed by the pincer grasp. cosmo was just a month old at the time. his new skills included: smiling. cruising and finger foods seemed ages away. now, only 7 lightening-fast months later, he's doing those things too. i'm so proud of him. and i feel so blessed, in so many ways:
i have a beautiful, sweet-spirited child, a loving & supportive partner, strong friendships with amazing people and...starting on friday, cosmo will no longer be in daycare. i'll be caring for him during the day, for as long as we can make it work financially(probably less than a year). i remind myself everyday of my incredible good fortune. while i revel in it, i am also struck with pangs of guilt, and a feeling that it's "just not right." it's not that i don't feel like i deserve such luck, it is that i believe we all do. and there is so much needless struggle and suffering.

yesterday, on the way to work i heard a story on the radio about a lebanese family (one of three that day) who had followed the israeli instructions to flee their home before israeli bombs struck their town. en route, their car was struck by an israeli (US supplied) bomb. an eight month old baby was wailing in the background. she had suffered severe burns and other injuries. her 10 year old brother was nearby, trembling from shock--also burned. their father and uncle had been killed in the blast, the mother, i believe, was also injured. the point of broadcasting a story like that is to bring the crisis home; to make it something that everyday people can identify with. when i heard there was an 8 month old baby, i immediately put myself in the shoes of the mother. what would i do if i lived in southern lebanon, and i received the warning and instructions to evacuate or be killed? how would i decide between fleeing with my baby, or heading for a bomb shelter? especially with only 2 hours warning, knowing that everyone else would be on the road, and that roads and bridges have been bombed, or are otherwise unsafe. the truth is that i cannot even imagine. try as i might, it is impossible. remember the catastrophe on the roads out of houston when the region was threatened by hurricane rita? what a nightmare, and yet nothing compared to the 12 days of devastating bombardment and destruction of infrastructure all over southern lebanon. it is a man-made disaster on a scale that we in the US cannot comprehend. oh, but the us is sending humanitarian aid. even the vice prime minister shimone peres had the gall to say "israel will do all it can to avoid a humanitarian crisis in lebanon." how is it that you can simultaneously cause, and avoid a humanitarian crisis? i don't get it. i don't understand war, i don't get "rules of engagement," i don't understand how, as we did in afganistan, a nation can drop bombs and aid packets at the same time. call me naive, but war of any kind, makes no sense to me.



it seems criminal to celebrate the blessings of my own life, while so many lives are being strained and destroyed. i comfort myself with the thought that my happiness contributes to the overall level of happiness in the world. when possible, we create around us the kind of world we desire. my little world makes the world a better place in some small way. i have to believe that.