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po'try, also parenting
Apr. 5th, 2015 07:57 amAerin, the first child, turned 21 March 17 (to her deep disgust) (mine as well, though I've had time to get over it - honestly never mention to the universe at large "anything but that" because when presented with a March 4 due date I said, out loud, any day in MArch is fine except St Patrick's day" and THAT is when she showed up. So.) She celebrated with a nice dinner, and a margarita with strawberries in, and it was very very tense. The next day was better. She's still majoring in math, pure math thankyouverymuch, because it is beautiful and makes her happy.
Her young man, a year older but moving through the academic process more slowly on account of anxiety (mostly under controll these days) and organizing issues (mostly settled these days) has an apartment off-campus for next year, and while Aerin has a single dorm room (I am guessing nothing and no one will persuade her to give up that door against everyone) for the school year she also has a REU which is a tiny reasearch project with a mentor for June and July. With a stipend for aparment and groceries. So they'll be living together for June and july off campus. Which I think is great, but apparently she/they were expecting a fight over ...something? What would I fight over? They've been together since 2011. They are kind to eachother, work well together, have arranged things well. I could say they're too young but I moved in with Al (back and forth a little) when I was 19 (and again at 20 and 22 - it was complicated). I could say they aren't serious but really? that is both untrue and lame. I am truthfully more worried about whether they have a microwave, and enough frying pans, wooden spoons, bowls and cups. Modern parenting. No part of it is what your parents said it would be.
And finally please to have a poem that Jo Walton posted and it speaks to my HEART people. The thing my kids ask in any situation they are new to is "can I do anything to help?" The thing I do most routinely in new places, or with new friends, is ask to help. this poem speaks to me.
To Be of Use Marge Piercy
The people I love the best
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals
bouncing like half-submerged balls.
I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.
I want to be with people who submerge
in the task, who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.
The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.
Her young man, a year older but moving through the academic process more slowly on account of anxiety (mostly under controll these days) and organizing issues (mostly settled these days) has an apartment off-campus for next year, and while Aerin has a single dorm room (I am guessing nothing and no one will persuade her to give up that door against everyone) for the school year she also has a REU which is a tiny reasearch project with a mentor for June and July. With a stipend for aparment and groceries. So they'll be living together for June and july off campus. Which I think is great, but apparently she/they were expecting a fight over ...something? What would I fight over? They've been together since 2011. They are kind to eachother, work well together, have arranged things well. I could say they're too young but I moved in with Al (back and forth a little) when I was 19 (and again at 20 and 22 - it was complicated). I could say they aren't serious but really? that is both untrue and lame. I am truthfully more worried about whether they have a microwave, and enough frying pans, wooden spoons, bowls and cups. Modern parenting. No part of it is what your parents said it would be.
And finally please to have a poem that Jo Walton posted and it speaks to my HEART people. The thing my kids ask in any situation they are new to is "can I do anything to help?" The thing I do most routinely in new places, or with new friends, is ask to help. this poem speaks to me.
To Be of Use Marge Piercy
The people I love the best
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals
bouncing like half-submerged balls.
I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.
I want to be with people who submerge
in the task, who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.
The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.