1965
I'm writing this at 8:00 AM. That's because that's when my day ended. Mom lied again and of course Dad believed her. I don't think he even bothered to listen to me when I tried to defend myself. He'd just be brooding over Mom's lie.
Well I was sitting here writing and Dad came downstairs. I hoped he had a kind word - that he was kind of sorry or something. Silly, wasn't I? All he said was "Hey pigpen! Get that junk off your chair." I did.
Comment 2006
It would be easier to read this now if I had managed to be kinder to my own children than my parents were to me. But the fact is I also had my hard, sarcastic moments -- and then some. I replay them in my head, wishing I would erase them all.
Not that it's an excuse, but now I understand how much stress my parents were under and see how it played out with my brother and myself. Their marriage was falling apart, my mother was in constant pain and my father was being jerked around by an evil boss. My stressors were different -- upheaval at work, the deaths of my parents, emotional fallout from the murder of a close friend of my husband's -- but my attempts to bottle up the fear and anxiety were no solution. Inevitably, it spilled out, expressing itself in harsh criticism of the ones I loved the most.
Anonymous comment, 2006:
This is the first time I've read your journal. Interesting!
Sorry to hear your life was so stressful when you were raising children.
It seems a scary thing to me to write about childhood thoughts. I'm kind of glad I don't know what they were. I just started a new journal that I write in only once per week that I would never air in public. :)
Comment 2023
Believe me, there’s stuff I have left out. Maybe on the next round.
1997
Kiddo and I had a good talk - - both of us, I think, not just me - - and I feel so much better. Then late last night I took her and eight friends to see Rocky Horror Picture Show… an interesting experience. What is the appeal, I wonder? The profanity? The shock of it all? The community?
Time to plant my pansies.
1981
We had a picnic yesterday for everyone in the department. The weather cooperated beautifully and the food turned out to be very popular and just enough. There were about 40 people here, I think, induing about 10 kids. They enjoyed patting Louise, the quarter horse, and feeling her grass and carrots. It was really fun playing hostess; everyone looked so relaxed when they left. That’s what I wanted to do for them.
I wish I’d done it for me. I’m worn out but hardly relaxed! This is, however, the last week of classes (Amen).
Comment 2023
I then entered my measurements, as I was doing regularly for the next 10-20-30(?) years. I will spare you my fatphobia.
1983
And so I am not pregnant (hooray). That’s sort of a relief - - no, it’s definitely a relief. Maybe in three or four years we’ll be ready - - but not now. (1986 or 1987)
Kiddo had a nice birthday on Sunday. It was a beautiful day, just like the day she was born. We went to church, where she was dedicated in a lovely service. A young girl stood up afterwards and tearfully thanked the congregation for their fulfillment of the promise made at her dedication years ago. I hope Kiddo feels that way someday.
After a nap and a visit with D and W, we sent to the zoo to see the tigers and elephants. Birthday presents: a dress from Clarita, a truck with pegs from S and R, a musical clock from me, a tiger and kiddie links from Jim, and a clown-shaped stacker from Leda and Jack. That doesn’t include things from relatives coming soon.
I’ve decided to stop laboring on an article I have been working on for three months. It’s just going nowhere. So now on to the next project, which I hope will go better. That’s the first first time I’ve had to abandon a writing project. But then, there’s that article I submitted long, long, ago to the Home Economics Research Journal. Maybe I’ll try again with that one!
1986
It’s been a crazy two or three weeks. Was it really only about 6 weeks ago that I mentioned how slowly the semester was going? That’s about when everything changed. First, the trip to Minneapolis, last week Kiddo’s birthday and the regional meeting of the Association of College Professors of Textiles and Clothing, and now the Costume Society meeting. Between that, papers to grade, exams to grade, more exams to grade, next week more papers to grade, and hay fever season, just to really put me in a productive mood. Oh, yes, and advising. So right now I have my eyes set on May 16th. If I survive until then, the worst will be over. I’m already looking forward to other pursuits. (Especially sewing and writing) But on the positive side, it has really all gone very well, every talk and trip, and I am looking forward to the CSA meeting in Indianapolis.
Kiddo’s birthday party was a great success. I guess the whole birthday was. The party was just at the daycare, which meant 21 kids. That was a bit of a zoo, but it was a simple party - piñata, cake and favors. The only problem was the piñata refused to break, so I finally had to make a few cuts around him to get it started, and then turn it over to one of the teachers. Even then, it didn’t break right. Oh, well. The kids enjoyed it. Her big present this year was a Cabbage Patch Kid named Cindy. To the pleasure of my own ego, she picked out one with glasses!!
2020
So this time, it took five days to get back in the groove. In all fairness, it was a busy weekend, with Kiddo’s birthday zoom, mask-making, some socializing , and nice enough weather to go on long walks. And now it is May, with our poor trip to California still up in the air, and my sad, sad book limping along. Why did I think it would be easier under lockdown. Everything is harder, except snacking and playing iPad games.
Comment 2023
“It’s always something” - Roseanne Rosanaadanaa/Gilda Radner
2023
I tried to get together with Kiddo for a little birthday treat on May 1, but forgot about life in May. It was worse for me when they were little, with kids’ school and sports events, the end of my semester, Mothers’ Day, and usually at least one major professional conference. Now that I am retired, I have gradually adjusted to a slower pace. If you can call writing 2-3 hours a day, working on three or four knitting projects at once, and making baklava for a crowd a “slower pace”. At least I am no longer rushing past Monday-Tuesday-Wednesday-Thursday-Friday to get to TGIF and the weekend.
Remind me: What’s a weekend?
End of the semester was always horrible. Twice a year. Makes me wonder why I thought having two kids born at the end of the semester was such great planning. Too late now…
That 1965 post hurts to read! And it's hard to think about things I did and said also. It's so hard without good role models.