May 10

Empathy, existential wondering, perspective, self-awareness, and finally humility.

1965

We had a track meet today and in the pole vault RM fell and broke his elbow in three places. That ought to put him out of commission for a couple of weeks. It was awful, though. His elbow was just bent like this.

He didn't cry or grimace or anything. Boy, I would have.

1979

Now that my textile microscopy report is handed in and my AMST paper is roughed out, life seems to be slowing down. Time for space. Even though I have my qualifying exam in a few weeks (2, in fact) and two finals next week, I am beginning to have time to do the things I had put aside. Tops on the list is that Home Economics Research Journal article. Suggestions for Home Economics in history. Or something.

Comment 2023

HERJ was not interested, as I recall. Eventually, I published this in the Clothing and Textile Research Journal:

Does the Costume and Textile Historian Have a
Place in the Future?
Jo B. Paoletti
Department of Textiles and Consumer Economics, University of Maryland

Cited by 14 people since 1983. Whoop.

1981

Mother’s Day

I got to thinking about irreversibles. Like my parents’ divorce and Marley’s death. I really don’t like them. Worse yet, I can’t accept them. Like those dreadful daydreams I used to have about Great Errors I have made, thoughts of those two inalterable events keep coming back and upsetting me. Not because they happened, as much as because I can’t undo them. Such irritation and frustration!! Such sadness and wasted rage. Marley’s death was totally inevitable. The only way I could avoid the experience was to die first. Not a pleasant alternative. Oh, does it anger me , though! Many nights I’ve dreamed that I saved her somehow. She always dies later in the dream, and I seem to accept it. Once I remember thinking, “This time it’s for good.” Would I really accept it then? No…it happened that way, in fact. We almost lost her when her cancer was diagnosed. What sense of triumph I felt when she came out of surgery! We had won, and Marley wouldn’t die. Except, of course, she would. Everyone I love, everyone I hate everyone I know will die. Me, too. 

One life. Just one life. Life it, experience it. Enjoy it, when possible. Savor the bitter as well as the sweet. Savor blandness. Savor everything.

I still don’t like death.

(Followed by two pages of calorie counting and weighing/measuring myself.) 

1982

The days drag/rush by. It is not a time for accomplishing things, other than feeding and changing Kiddo and resting myself. Every once in a while I stop and remind myself that they are only so little for a short time.

No wonder people want to adopt infants; no wonder people take lots of pictures. It is both a long ordeal and a fleeting moment. Where are you going, my little one? Right now, nowhere; inevitably, away.

The spiritual aspects of motherhood are cosmic. I feel part of a stream…a long line of women, mothers and daughters. Welcome, Kiddo.

2003

Raining with thunder and lightning. Much as it would be nice if today were sunny and dry, there is also something lovely and soothing about the patter of rain on the roof and even the crash and rumble of thunder. Of course, I try not to think about the water in the basement.

I have a quick errand to do before Kiddo 2 and I head to New Windsor (for chessmen) and Westminster (for a college visit). 

Kiddo 1’s learning disabilities report came in the main yesterday. [Redaction here] I wish we had figured out what was wrong earlier, as it would have made a huge difference in most of her education. Skipping kindergarten was mistake, in retrospect. It masked the problem for years, as her disorganization could be explained away by her relative immaturity. Frankly, she has never been immature for her age, at any point in her life. Now it feels like a new chapter really is beginning, and it is hers to write. It has to be. She needs to learn to accept coaching and assistance.*  Her desire to be independent and self-sufficient is her biggest weakness, though it is also one of her greatest strengths.

I need to truly focus on getting my grades and evaluations in right now, before the end of May. That way I will have the whole summer to write and plan.

Comment 2023

*And I needed to learn not to give it unless asked.

This kiddo taught herself to read before the age of three, and by the time she started kindergarten, was reading at a third grade level and figuring out how to do second grade math, on her own. The school suggested we move her to first grade. The alternative was boredom and being treated like a teacher’s aide by the nice Mrs. R. She made her troop of besties in 1^st grade, so has always argued that we did the right thing. After twenty years, I think I need to let the guilt go.

2021

I just looked for my glasses for fifteen minutes. I was wearing them

2023

Laser-focused on two things: getting out of this chair for a nice long walk and watching “Om Shanti Om”with two new friends (and possible converts to Indian film) tonight.

Comment 2023

This stack o’entries feels like a growth chart. Empathy, existential wondering, perspective, self-awareness, and finally humility.