It’s hard for me to believe I’ve been a mother for 29 years. Back in 1991 around this time I was pregnant with my twins, getting ready to move into our new house in June, looking ahead with excitement and nervousness to this new stage of life for Bob and me. We didn’t know in May that we’d have to jump through some scary hoops first, since I went into pre-term labor at 25 weeks three weeks after we’d moved in. We feared the babies would be born dangerously way too soon, so I spent 6 weeks in the hospital on bedrest (it was a miserable summer for me that year). Gennie and Leo still made us parents sooner than we thought, being born at 31 weeks, tiny but mostly healthy. My adventures in motherhood began with a bang, and I’m so grateful and happy for the highs and lows and work and fun that those twins and their younger brother Dante have brought us through.
I was thinking more about motherhood this week after reading a social media post by someone who is pregnant with her first child. She was thinking about what kind of mother she’d be, and hoping she’d raise a good person. My mind circled around on Nature vs. Nurture (I think it takes some of both), and then I started thinking about what makes a good mother. What does it take? Continue reading
The year was 1991. Bob and I spent the Fall at home with our preemie twin babies, exhausted, broke and exhilarated as we learned the job of being new parents.
I’ve always loved so much A Christmas Carol, from Dickens’ stylized language to the redemption story, quirky ghosts, and all the Christmasy details. Our famous Guthrie Theater puts on a wonderful production of it every holiday season, and there was no way our tight budget would allow anything like that. But I yearned to see it, needed something bright like that to help my tired spirit appreciate the holidays.
I found out that a local independent bookstore (Baxter Books, which has since closed) was having a writing contest to give away tickets to the Guthrie production. They wanted Christmas-oriented submissions — I don’t remember much more than that. I wanted to win tickets so bad that I wrote my heart out, coming up with my own short version of A Christmas Carol. I don’t remember how many winners there were, but Reader, I was one of them. It was so exciting to win something from my writing, and to get to see the performance I wanted so much to see.
I dug into my old files and found it. Here it is, a blast from the past, from 27 year old me. I hope you enjoy it, and may there be wonder and contentment for you this Winter. Continue reading