May 8

Just another busy May day

1965

H called today. D told her about when she went out with V. He was on top of her. D thinks he's hers, but another girl who was double-dating with them, says V's just using her because she is willing. I suppose it's true. After all, D's never been very popular and when all of a sudden a really cute guy goes for her, she wants to go all out. Well, let her. He's a s.o.b. anyway.

2023 My anger at being scorned starts to contaminate anyone close to him.

1979

Yesterday was a very good day. The collection finally got moved, the oral reports in class were generally good, and my AATCC panel was excellent, if under attended. No one left in the middle, and no one left after the talks. Most stayed after the questions for informal mingling. Next year, as the organization gets more visible, perhaps attendance will go up.

1982

Well, last weekend was a doozie. Didn’t paint the baby’s room, didn’t call the pediatrician, didn’t pack my hospital bag. Just went into labor and had the baby. It was short, “laborious” but not entirely painful. Just required lots of effort. I was feeling my first contraction at 11 or 11:30 pm, and Kiddo was born at 4:15 on May 1, with a full head of hair and hardly any crying. I had thought I would cry for joy, but when the moment came, I was simply awestruck. It was amazing - beautiful. Simply beautiful.

After that was a lot like falling in love, as they’d bring her to me for feedings and I stare at her as long as I could. Then it was home and one of the hectic weeks I’ve ever known, as we struggled to learn how to meet (and maybe even anticipate) her needs. We’re still learning. She’s eating well, I just have to adjust my schedule to hers and hers to mine.

She is so beautiful, in her tiny individuality. She doesn’t look like me or Jim; she looks like herself. She has light blondish-brown hair and an elfin face with a little pointed chin. She cries and fusses very little.

1983

Mother’s Day. Last year I spent it recovering (slowly) from childbirth. It’s a blur, now. This year I spent it taking care of a very sick Kiddo. The poor thing has been vomiting since Wednesday. She has a good day, then a bad day. At first the Dr. felt it was an intestinal virus, but now he thinks it might be a kidney infection. She’s been very lethargic all weekend, sleeping most of the time. She doesn’t move around much - doesn’t walk, hardly crawls. We can’t wait for her to be her old self again. I’ll stay home tomorrow - hope she’s well enough to go to Remy’s (sitter) on Tuesday.

My, how profound this journal is lately! I had some deep thoughts this morning but have since forgotten them. I planted my garden today, and am looking forward to summer. I get impatient about Kiddo sometime. I want her to be old enough to do more for herself, to talk to me, and really carry on a conversation. The first year is enjoyable, but only up to a point.

Comment 2023

I am not a baby person. After all, I devoted my life to turning teenagers in to young adults. My second child claims I traumatized him at at eighteen by declaring that I “never wanted babies”. It was the truth; I had babies so I could eventually have young adults. Now I look forward to getting to know them as elders-in-training.

1997

I had a pleasant time with a few of the Scholars last night. We went to a ball game. It was disappointing that so many people didn’t go (about 1/2 of those who signed up were no-shows), but that was soon forgotten as we chatted, watched the game, etc. (Mostly chatted)

Comment 2023

Clearly, I have given up on the neutral pronouns for Kiddo 1. I started in an effort to protect her privacy, but it got more and more awkward, not to mention more and more obvious I was writing about a girl. Kiddo, if you are reading, please let me know what to do with entries about you! 

I do not regret how busy I always was in May, even before my first child arrived. It’s interesting to see how the activities changed, but the pace never lets up.  This past weekend was a marathon of writing, cooking, making things, and socializing, bookended with an excursion to a sheep and wool festival and an evening with PBS. (“Call the Midwife”, “Tom Jones”, and as much as I could stand of the truly irritating “Marie Antoinette”). Do not discuss costume dramas with fashion historians. We are no fun at all.