being the genius that he is..

Tom Robbins has given me something to think on this morning. I decided that it would be nice of me to share it with whomever happens upon my tiny corner of the blog world. In Another Roadside Attraction he shows the reader two characters discussing science and mysticism (within a few pages around the middle of the novel). One is a mystic and one is a scientist. The scientist has little to say, but this is what the mystic points out.

"...if you find a conflict in science and mysticism, may I suggest that you do not deny the latter the objectivity you grant the former... Scientists, I suspect, operate on chance more often than they'd care to have us laymen discover."

She later says this about romantics, "Can't you understand that romanticism is no more an enemy of science than mysticism is? In fact, romanticism and science are good for each other. The scientist keeps the romantic honest, and the romantic keeps the scientist human."

Study those observations a while.

Side note:
Daniel Quinn has given me so much to think about with his novel Ishmael that I can't even begin to quote it. I'd have to type out the entire novel, and I believe that is illegal. This book completely changed the way that I view the world. I'll be beginning another of his works soon. All I can do is recommend that you read it, then pass on how amazing it is to someone else.

vanity

I decided this morning that the best time for me to look in the mirror is in the morning. Maybe, I'm still so sleepy that I just think that I look better then, or something to that effect. Really, I think this would only work when I've actually had a slightly decent night's sleep. I had a slightly decent one last night, though not as good as I'd prefer. Sleep is an issue in and of itself. But in the morning, first thing, I have a sort of glow. Others have it too. I've witnessed this, but I suppose I'd never noticed it about myself. I believe that if I could have that same glow all day, I'd never touch make-up again.

being Mom

I've been thinking about motherhood, or "momhood" as I like to call it. I really hope that Nora never calls me "Mother" because that just sounds so old. In this thinking, I've suddenly realized that she's almost two. Jesus Christ. The terrible twos are quickly approaching, though I think they've begun really. We're in that stage now, and I am trying to fight it, and I honestly don't have the slightest idea of how to do so. Nor do I know if I am doing anything right at all.

All that is to say, that as I was doing this I thought back to the day she was born. There are lots of things I could say about that day, but one things that really sticks out in my head is the question, "Well, Lauren, how does it feel?" It being momhood. All sorts of thoughts raced through my head, but I always answered with the predictable "wonderful" and with a smile. I made a mental note to never, ever utter than phrase, especially to anyone who's just gone through a life-altering experience. If I have another child, I think I'll answer that question less predictably.

I wish someone would ask me now. While I still have no clue able what I'm doing, I could give a much better answer. Right after she was born I wanted to say, "terrible" or "fucking scary." Now, now I'd say so much more than that. Of course, terrible had more to do with my physical condition than with being a mom, though that rush of hormones was quite terrible.

It feels like a head resting on shoulder, fitting perfectly into that little nook that I'd always found useless. It feels like small hands pushing me from my side to my back in the middle of the night so that a little someone can be more comfortable directly on top of Mama. It feels like the bliss that comes with that first real laugh and the millions to follow. It feels like slimey baby puke making my t-shirt stick to my chest and my hair smell like spoiled milk. It feels like an absolute rush of adrenaline at that cry I instinctively know as the real thing. It feels like the tiredness that ensues after a long night spent with a sick baby whose every breath is difficult. It feels like pure love, the kind that truly never ceases. It feels scary as hell and as confusing as calculus. It feels overwhelming and wonderful and exhausting and rewarding. It feels good.

writer's envy - a meme

I found this meme here.

Novel you wish you'd written:
Light in August by William Faulkner or Skinny Legs and All by Tom Robbins (oh so different)

TV you wish you could have been/could be a staff writer on:
Seinfeld

Blog you wish you'd started:
A Softer World


Play you wish you'd written:
Krapp's Last Tape by Samuel Beckett

Poem you wish you'd written:
"Taking Off Emily Dickinson's Clothes" by Billy Collins

Screenplay you wish you'd written:
Fur by Erin Cressida Wilson

Song you wish you'd written:
"Us" by Regina Spektor, "Be Here Now" by Ray LaMontagne, "Love and Some Verses" by Iron and Wine

Blogger with skillz (or readership, for that matter) you wish you could steal:
Heather Armstrong at Dooce