Wednesday, September 19, 2007

"...just because we don't understand doesn't mean that the explanation doesn't exist." *

So it turns out it’s not as bad as all that – Primo himself does not miss his enrichment while he is at the Gifted Center. He does miss gym. Or at least, he may. Still not ideal, for my antsy, high-energy, athletically-inclined boy. Although it seems enough parents have expressed concern that rescheduling and juggling will take place, so maybe kids will miss…reading for reading enrichment. Ah. Yes. Now THAT makes more sense. I know we are truly blessed to have such problems – the gifted program is really extraordinary, especially for a public school. But I still feel I must be vigilant at all times. It gets wearing, but it’s so worth it.


I have been quite remiss in reading and commenting on blogs lately; it doesn’t mean I don’t love you all, yo. (Channeling Badger, there…) I have just been very nauseated and have a major case of what I call “the systemic blahs.” (Also an excellent name for a garage band.) But for all the lousy-feeling (I felt awful enough at work yesterday that I went home early – an almost unprecedented occurrence for me), I am grateful for the nausea and whatnot. It signifies that the baby is growing and hanging in there and continuing to be healthy. My friend M miscarried this weekend (in her 12th week), and I just found out this morning. My heart breaks for her. Send some good energy her way today if you think of it.


I am rereading A Wind in the Door now, and enjoying it also. Although, having a six-year-old of my own, am finding Charles Wallace just a LEETLE unrealistic, no matter how genius-like he is mean to be. Still, suspending that disbelief, am loving this book.

I want to be Mrs. Murry, God, she is so together. I love that she cooks dinner on a Bunsen burner while proving the existence of farandolae and putting herself in the running for the Nobel Prize. I thought *I* was a decent multi-tasker...

One of the letter-writers to Salon on the article published in the days after l’Engle’s death summed up perfectly my feelings about Mrs Murry:

The main character in A Wrinkle in Time's mother was a scientist. And a mother. She cooked food on the Bunsen burner in their home's basement lab. I don't remember much of the book, but I remember this. Very much so. How a throw-away few lines in just one book managed to counteract every societal message about women and science that I'd been internalizing, I don't know. I sit typing my doctoral thesis, pausing to look up from the laptop and say "Wow!! you made a sandcastle!" and "Grrr! I'm a tiger" to my 2-year-old twins. Madeline L'Engle made this possible.

This unfortunately makes me that much sadder that L’Engle’s books written for adults are proving so disappointing upon rereading.


I am off to pack up some lunches and assorted play paraphernalia, so that when The Baby and I pick up Seg from preschool, we can head straight to the park. It’s a gorgeous day today, and I want to take advantage of the sunshine and moderate temps.


Paraphernalia is the word on which I won the fifth-grade spelling bee.
I will NEVER forget that crazy R in there.


* Mrs Murry, A Wrinkle in Time

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