terrible two's

so truly, i feel like a worthless parent a lot of the time lately.

as for the things i have control over, i really am committed to doing my best: i feed the kid really good, very healthy whole foods. he begs for broccoli, so i feel ok in that right.

we stick to a schedule. even if he won't nap, we lay down at 1 pm for a nap, and he's in bed at 8:30.

we barely watch tv-- maybe an episode of dora here and there. he's a bookworm. i love this.

but, omg. he is a terror. he has been hitting me and my husband. diaper changes are often torturous.

when we need to head out somewhere (generally to take him to an activity like story time or a play group), he is less than amenable. he doesn't listen. at the mere suggestion that we need to get ready to leave, he will pull out the "drums" (pots and pans), listen to records, and read every book in the house.

once we are out of the house, he insists on driving the car if we're driving, and if we're strolling, he fights getting into the stroller.

he has turned into a big yeller. instead of just saying, "i'm done" or "i'd like a banana, please" (of which he is perfectly capable of doing and has done a million times), he will just YELL.

he pushes the dog. the only member of the household whom he treats with respect is the crotchety 14 year old himalayan cat, because we all know what will happen if you cross a 14 year old himalayan cat.

maybe i could learn a thing or two from the cat.

and "helpful" facebook "friends" respond to my status updates of "two year old driving me up a wall" with things like, "just wait til he's three!!"

that is sooooooo not what i needed to hear, friend.

i try to be consistent with the discipline. i NEVER let him get away with hitting me. i am not at all afraid of a public time out, and have plopped him down in the middle of the pharmacy or grocery store for two minutes without a second thought.

i offer choices rather than make demands. i try to be a good model (you don't see bdub and i swatting each other's faces or yelling at the dinner table).

the waters are getting rough out there. moms, if you are reading, throw me an oar. do i just wait this out, and keep the consistency of what i am doing (even if it doesn't seem to be working)? do i need a different approach? do i shrug it off, and accept that this, too, shall pass? because while he is adorable, hilarious, compassionate, and sweet as sugar lots of the time, the black cloud of terrible twos is encroaching on my home, and i don't like it.

it's in the book!

one of max's favorite things to do lately is to quote from one of his favorite stories, and then say, "it's in the book!"

yesterday's was one of my favorites. we were eating breakfast, and max bumped his knees onto the table, spilling my coffee a little. i quoted sam and the firefly by p.d. eastman, saying "that was a bad trick. bad tricks are not fun."

sam and the firefly is one of our faaaaaaavorite books. max can recite it in its entirety. when there has been a minor infraction (not quite time-out or 1,2,3 magic-style warning worthy), we tend to use the "bad tricks are not fun" line.

without missing beat, he replied:

"oh, go on home, you old hen! what to YOU know about fun?" and then quickly, "it's in the book!"

homeschooling preschool

oh my, has it really been over a YEAR since i last updated my blog?! unbelievable.

so much has happened, there is simply no way for me to recap it all, but it has been a wonderful year. i believe that i have found my stride, and so has my husband. it's awesome. life is really, really good--- rich, fun, busy, fulfilling, exciting.

max is just an amazing human being with whom i love spending my time.

what sparked the interest in picking up the blog again is this: max is two and a half. on march fifth, an innocent parenting newsgroup to which i belong became flooded with posts: it was preschool acceptance day, and so many were wait-listed, or talking about where their kids got in, etc. one wrote about her concern that her kid (who was not attending) would be left in the dust as a result of having no other kids to play with! (they would all be in preschool!) and yes....that freaked me out but good.

thing is, in looking around for a preschool, the desirable schools are nearly all full-time situations, or at least full days for a few days a week, and they are all unaffordable (they would require almost half of my annual salary). i am still considering preschool for age four, but our situation is unique, and we certainly are not in need of a full-time childcare situation. additionally, if this was something we wanted to do, i should have begun the process of applying while he was still in the womb, apparently (i wish i were joking- required viewing: nursery university).

the beautiful part is that a full-time or even part-time but full day childcare situation is not what i desire. with much thought and consultation with parents whom i respect and love, i have figured out what it is that i desire:

-a close bond with my child
-a parent-oriented child
-a child who is exposed to many different types of people of many different ages
-a child-led curriculum which focuses on his intense interest in reading and music
-when he cannot be with me or bdub, a devoted caregiver who is a kind, intelligent, and gentle model (ladies and gentlemen, meet jeffrey).

and this is what we have. essentially, amid the preschool competition (which is much more intense in our area than acceptance into most major universities), the $20,000 annual tuitions, the fundraising committees and the application fees and the essays about the perfect little snowflake that we are supposed to pretend is our child, this is our plan:

we are homeschooling preschool. i feel like i've got my teaching mojo back! (i have a degree in k-8 music education, was a substitute teacher of all subjects and grades for three years after college, and have taught private flute lessons as well as general music, orchestra, band, and choir to grades 6-12). i am very excited about this. i would like for it to be child-led for the most part, but max is also a really voracious learner who likes being exposed to new things.

additionally, we:
-attend a church nursery on sundays from appx 9-12.
-attend a playgroup monday and fridays from 11:30-1
-may attend an unschooling playgroup in the teacher's home tues and thur from 4-6 (more to come on that-- see
-will likely attend dalcroze eurythics class at the special music school

sounds like a plenty full schedule for a 2-3 year old. most importantly, i am honored and happy to spend this time with him. childhood really is so short.

more to come.

my wild thing is ONE

he is ONE. one revolution around the sun.

here is a flickr set of the month by month development of this person, my child....birth to year one. pupa to chrysalis.

i feel like i am at a high point. the only thoughts that creep into the deeper, scary parts are the thoughts of regression. of going backwards after we have come so far. what if something were to happen? if he slips away and this groove upon my torso where he lays becomes just an empty ditch on my body, unfilled, concave?

these thoughts are few and far between. this is a good thing, because they can be paralyzing. more than this, i celebrate the days with him, and the evenings holding him close, rocking him, his eyes getting heavy, putting him down. watching him sleep. walking into his room in the dark mornings to him smiling and bouncing, gripping onto the rail of his crib. ready-- READY-- to face another day and seek more adventure.

teaching him all of it--what to do and what not to do-- from walking to eating to pulling on the cat's tail. no small task. and i am ready.

more will be revealed...

cryptic title, isn't it?

i have decided to adopt this way of thinking, give it a good home in my psyche. pre-max, my sister gave me a copy of anne lamott's operating instructions, which between sleep books and preggo books and no-need-to-panic-and-call-the-doctor type books i hadn't gotten around to reading.

silly me.

of course, it would have pretty much rendered this blog obsolete, because sweet annie says in her hilarious and infectious voice everything i have been feeling over this last year, but much more eloquently. one of her yummy morsels of wisdom comes from her AA friends (the author is a former addict herself), who remind her that "more will be revealed". how true these words are in the context of, well, everything, but especially so when one is dealing with addiction and loved ones.

what are lies? what is the truth? my husband has spent so much of the last twelve months or so trying to sift through all of this-- trying to catch her in her lies, to trap the rat and make it speak the truth. and in time, over and over again, more is revealed....more ends tied up so that confusing behavior, requests for money, excuses, failures, crises, twisted blame-- all are revealed and more will be to come.

my poor husband. how much he gives and gives until he just can't take care of this phantom whisper of a real person any more. yet he forgives and he tries again. and again.

max is turning one in less than a month. i can't believe it. i mostly can't believe that i am sitting here thinking, "where has the time gone?" when the days i have spent have at times felt like a small eternity. yet this little larvae of a person is crawling around me at the speed of light, laughing until he can hardly breathe, taking it all in and then some. my sister told me once that you can't expect it to be easy, having your heart running around outside of your body.

september song

it's a rainy september 12 and it was a rainy september 11. fitting-- i always feel funny when september 11 is a beautiful day in new york.

max is a little man of many teeth (five and counting), a crawler, a drummer, a smiler, a hugger, a CLIMBER. we are starting to deal with the heart-wrenching and all too frequent occurrences of head bumps, falls, and overall dangerous behavior (like standing in the tub, slipping, and busting tiny rosebud lips on ceramic soap holders). yet he soldiers on and lives to explore another day.

i am learning as he learns. it is my job to teach him everything. i am learning that i need to let go. that a great mom is a flexible mom, and that i have no choice to be otherwise if i want to be happy. i am learning that love does not always equal happiness, and that is ok. love can equal loneliness and isolation, but you love those little ones so much that you just do it. you do it all anyway and somehow it just makes sense.


(my boys swimmin' this summer:)

i never knew love like this before...

despite the positive title, this is not an easy post to make. the wolfeinellis are wading through a lot of muck these days, and while so many areas of our lives have improved DRASTICALLY (like, where we live, for example: our biggest issue is having to talk with the older people on our block when we;'re in a hurry), other things have unfortunately taken some pretty sad turns.

brian's dad suffered three ruptured brain aneurysms, and while he is (thankfully) recovering, it has been quite the ordeal for the wolfe's. this ordeal has been piggybacked by ANOTHER ordeal, which for the sake of privacy i don't feel comfortable elaborating on. i will say that addiction is a selfish beeyatch. it destroys, it lies, and it keeps coming back for more. it is trying to pick away at my husband. to occupy his thoughts, to constantly fill his head with lies, to exhaust him, to deplete his resources. it is so sad. so very sad. it is really hurting the wolfeinellis, and i really fear that we don't have the resources to deal with it.

however, we are dealing with it so far. we are trying to do our best most of the time. i am failing at that some of the time....i think it is easier for me to step away and try to encircle my family, shield them. i can't hide my anger when i feel unable to do this successfully.

max is almost ten months. he is a light. he has four teeth with more on the way. he clings to me when i pick him up, and gives me little pats on the shoulder as if to say, "it's alright mama. breathe. i love you." he is the happiest baby on the block. he wakes up and (usually) goes to bed with a smile on his face. he snuggles up to me in the morning and nurses, i think more for my sake than for his. he has thigh chub. his eyes are a kaleidoscope of greens, coppers, grays. he has more exuberance, joy, and life force than any being i can ever recall knowing or sharing in their company.

day one

just got back from my annual beach trip, and i have been so inspired by my ladies that operation baby fat is in effect. for three weeks i am going to:
-cut out sugar
-cut out processed crap
-reduce carbs (esp after 3 pm--i was going to cut them out entirely after 3 pm, but i am concerned about milk supply issues)
-increase water
-control portions
-exercise hardcore 5 times a week

the idea is that this will become a habit. today was day one. exercised very strenuously at mccarren park and almost bit the dust. plus, i think i am detoxifying from my sins of overindulgence at the beach, so i have been a little headachy. still, it's the Right Thing To Do no matter how crappy my out of shape butt feels at the moment. i am really tired of looking and feeling schlumpy. plus, i need to take advantage of the tail-end of my breast feeding metabolic boost!

in max news, the boy is waving. it is just the cutest thing. he looks like his tiny little hand is milking a cow, and it cracks me up. i missed him on my first trip without baby, but not so much that i didn't have a fantastic time. so glad we have reached this point-- i never thought we would. beaching it with the girls always feels a bit like a new year to me, with resolutions and a sense of renewal and possibility. puts me in the mind of the zombies song:

"this will be our year
took a long time to come."

two chest pats and a fist extended to katherine. you're my girl. xo

california dreamin'

it is simply PATHETIC, my lack of blogging. it feels like so much has happened over the last month! most importantly, i have found my self again. just typing that sentence gave me pause: am i being all "bad mama" by saying that something about ME is "most important"? no. this-- my state of being-- is important. it is critical. i am no good to max or anyone else for that matter if i am all scrambled up in my own head.

we are in L.A, right now, as bdub is playing drums for mandy moore on the tonight show this evening. yes--mandy moore, the pop princess of the britney/x-tina/jessica simpson class of the late nineties. mandy is, of course, all grown up and trying to go in a new direction and all that jazz, but it sounds silly and defensive to even write that so i will just let it be what it is: a pop thing. with a really nice girl. on national tv. an american institution. tonight!

i am so proud of my bdub. he works tirelessly on his craft, and this marks a big milestone for him.

too much other stuff to catch up on in one post: we moved (goodbye, 92 hawthorne!), the boy is eating solids with gusto, and life is good. pictures to come.

it's a new dawn, a new day, a new life for me...

...and i'm feeling....good?

yeah. maybe i am. it's about f@&#ing time.

my boy is six months old. whatta guy. here is a brief list of his likes and dislikes:

max morgan wolfe likes:
cuddles
being "surprised" (with a "boo!" or rolling one's "r"'s, or "motorboating")
the biscuit
bouncing
sucking face (literally)
music
beats
infant tylenol
putting anything and everything in his mouth


dislikes:
teething
bedtime
the inability to control his own body temperature (thus, his latest nickname "sweaty head")

and that's about it as far as the "dislikes" go. this guy is happy as a clam 99.9% of the time.

lucky, lucky, LUCKY me. for reals. and i will stop now thus i nauseate the reader with my crushing, sloppy, sickly sweet love for this little person.

much love to ya

how do i love thee?

my bdub
-do you know what it does to a woman to anticipate a greasy, sticky, enchilada-y mess in the kitchen, only to walk in there and find the dishes done, the stove wiped, the ingredients put away and the pan soaking in soapy water? you rule.
-thank you for being patient with my neuroses. and for being so kind to me, even when i don't deserve it.
-you rule for being forthright with the Professional. i appreciate that you are 100% committed to us.
-the late night/early morning feeding. have i mentioned that you rule?
-you are so cute when you come to work with max.
-you are so good with everything you do with the boy, for that matter.
-thank you for working hard to take care of us (even the poopy work).
-thanks for cracking me up on a daily basis, several times a day.

my boy
-i love you: your milky smiles and gummy grins, your tiny hand clutching me, your coos... irresistible.
-how did i get such a good sleeper?
-thank you for minimally fussing. really.
-you are so much fun! thanks for proving to me that this does just get better and better.

favorite things: new mama edition

in the same vein as last year's favorite things post (ala oprah), i give you the new mama edition! these are a few of my favorite things which i could not have lived without during the first few months of new motherhood, many of which i never would have suspected would become so indispensable.

the happiest baby on the block dvd (harvey karp)



ah yes, the five s's: swaddle, side, suck, swing, shhh. it's hard to know what to do as a new parent of a screaming babe! at the first viewing of this dvd, bdub started to cry. he felt so empowered. best of all, the techniques work! i think an amazing baby gift would be a copy of this dvd, a swaddle blanket (see next item) and a couple of pacifiers (see item after next).


the miracle blanket



organic cotton. no snaps, pins, velcro, nothing. simply the best (though i also really like the stretchy swaddle blankets, too). as an aside, doesn't the baby in the above photo look just like max?


soothies pacifiers



accept no imitations. these do tend to take some getting used to, appearance-wise. since you can see into the baby's little mouth, bdub claims that they kind of look like something out of a marilyn manson video when in use.


sophie the giraffe




the french classic. here is what ecobabygear.com has to say about sophie:

"Sophie the Giraffe, full of discoveries and activities to awaken baby’s senses!

Sight: The dark and contrasting spots all over Sophie the Giraffe’s body provide visual stimulation and make her easily recognizable to baby. She soon becomes a familiar and reassuring objet.

Hearing: Her squeaker keeps baby amused, stimulates his hearings, and helps him to understand the link between cause and effect.

Taste: Sophie the Giraffe is very flexible and has lots of parts for baby to chew (ears, horns, legs). She is perfect for soothing baby’s sore gums when teething and is completely safe. Made of 100% natural rubber and food paint.

Touch: Sophie the Giraffe is perfect for baby’s small hands. She is very light and her long legs and neck are easy for baby to grip. She is very soft to touch, just like baby’s mummy, stimulating soothing physiological and emotional responses.

Smell: The singular scent of natural rubber (from Hevea tree) makes Sophie the Giraffe very special and easy for your child to identify amid all his other toys. "


cotton zip up pajamas



so great when it's the 3 am diaper change and you don't have to fasten a million snaps. surprisingly hard to find, especially in cotton (we avoid fleece; as our friend mags warned, "nowlze, it's a pressure cooker.")


jj cole pacifier pod



such a simple thing: a little purse for your pacifiers! just the right size to hold two. keeps 'em clean and velcro's to any bag.


clip-on mobile



this has also been a lifesaver. clips to the shelves that hang over the changing table for diaper changing distraction. clips to the side of the crib, to the car seat, to wherever! max loves this thing and rarely fusses when he has his diaper changed.


mustela products



i got tons of this stuff as shower gifts, and i will use every last drop of it all. the foam shampoo for cradle cap is fantastic. the diaper cream is super-concentrated, and the lotion is heavenly. the entire line smells incredible: light, yet blends well with that perfect, natural baby head smell.


bebe au lait nursing cover



i resisted buying this for a long time. i mean, i should be able to nurse wherever, whenever, right?! other peoples' comfort be damned! that may be all well and good in theory, but there are certain times and places where popping out my 40 DD's (yes, that's what i am rockin' these days, lord help me) is less than ideal. like in therapy. or when i go to hear bdub play at church. church and boobs just don't mix. the bebe au lait is a necessary evil, and i am always happy to have it when i need it.


american apparel hoodies and onesies



finding plain, unadultered clothing in solid colors is nearly impossible. thank god for american apparel. great colors, nice cotton, sweatshop-free. plus, max and his dad can match! cute!


diapers.com



several friends recommended diapers.com to me, and young grasshopper that i am, i have passed on the rec. to other new moms. diapers.com rules. they have free shipping over $49, their diapers arrive in two days or less, and they are WAY cheaper than anywhere else. they don't just sell diapers, either. they sell EVERYTHING. in fact, i'd bet you could probably find every item of my favorite things on that website! you also get credit when you recommend people, so if any of you dear readers decide to order from them, tell 'em nowlze sent you.

small victory II

the zen buddhists believe (or so i have been told) that one cannot multitask; that multitasking is, in effect, just trying to do several things at once and not giving your full attention to any of them...thus, doing them all badly. i tend to agree.

however, this morning i was forced to let out the biscuit and take care of baby simultaneously. baby who skipped his mid-morning nap. uncomfortable baby, red-faced crying baby who for some reason i chose to dress in a sweater vest and cords, complete with belt (??).

step one was to stick crying baby in crib, slip on my boots, and fetch the biscuit, who was collared and leashed. red-faced baby was changed out of ridiculous get-up and slung to mama in his pouch. i tried several futile attempts to select an item of outerwear that would be able to zip over both myself and the pouch of slung baby, but to no avail. i then unslung screaming babe, stuck a hoodie on him as gingerly as i could, re-slung baby, grabbed the essentials (umbrella, keys, cell phone) and headed out the door.

the biscuit skipped through the slushy puddles, the baby hushed himself, and all seemed right with the world. that is, until the biscuit had to go #2. i let him into our mess of a front yard (his pooping domain), where he walked around quite a bit before finding a suitable spot. and then, one of the worst possible scenarios occurred: the biscuit had a hanger-on. (how can i put this delicately? sometimes the biscuit ingests too many of my stray hairs--by accident, of course-- and tends to have some poops that literally hang on by a thread). by the grace of god, i had a plastic bag in my pocket.

the boy and i entered the yard, nearly slipped several times, and bent down to break the biscuit free of his hairy predicament. baby clung closely to me, closer than the hairs clung to the biscuit: i set him free and once again, all is well in wolfeinelli land. i am considering penning a letter to the makers of the kangaroo korner adjustable fleece pouch, letting them know how well their product performed under the pressure of these adverse conditions.

small victories

first of all, how awesome is our new president? i am so inspired.

more personally speaking, i found the following blog-worthy: the other day, i ate pasta (fettucini, to be exact, which requires twirling) with my non-dominant hand. while breast feeding. i spilled not a drop on maximillian. now that's progress in my book.

here is max, obamacized:

so this is christmas--i hope you had fun

a big realization yesterday--

prompted by my last blog post, which left me feeling confused and with the dilemma as to whether or not i should take it down. i spoke with bdub about it and he asked me some very important questions:

why did you write it?
will it help someone else?
will it hurt anyone's feelings?

i wrote it to purge, to examine, to be honest.

i think it could help someone else, because it seems that new motherhood is supposed to be met with all sunshine and lollipops, and while max is my sunshine (especially these days), a lot of what surrounds me feels very gray. i don't think i am alone in that. i know it helps me when i get encouragement from others that they went or are going through the same thing.

it might hurt somebody's feelings.

then we talked about personal responsibility, and how it really bothers me when people don't take responsibility for themselves. and what i realized is that if i have felt isolated, then a large part of that is on my shoulders, whether i am in a place emotionally to deal with it or not. yes, i am fragile. yes, i am emotional and i am harboring a lot of anger (and i don't know what is prompting that or where it is coming from). but i am the only person who can take responsibility for it.

a part of doing that was admitting to myself that what i am feeling is not situational. bdub is here, and not at gigs (and i won't be on my own with max for a long night in the near future). it is christmas and we are together. i love this boy, i love my husband. so why am i still crying? why is the celine dion christmas album blasting in front of the stop and shop and the poster of obama in a boxing ring knocking out john mccain that i pass on flatbush avenue bringing me to tears? (god, i have such a love-hate relationship with my neighborhood).

we talked in the car and we agreed that i don't have to go on medication if i don't want to (and i really, really don't want to), unless i truly believe that it would do me and max more good than harm. we are taking positive steps by seeing The Professional who is closely observing me and who really cares. bdub is here to catch me when i fall.

so off we went to deanie's for a holiday party, and i didn't know how to feel. deanie is my one true friend up here. seriously. and of my true, deep, would cut off my pinky for them friends, i think i have about five or six total (one is deanie, one is my husband, one is my sister, you get the idea...). the last thing on earth i wanted to do was fall apart and continue the trend for the day (blubbering heap in the corner) in a semi-public arena.

to my surprise, i reconnected with so many great peeps, some of them new parents, some of them more seasoned, some of them grandparents. one was right there with me (or a month ahead anyway, which was a treat to see). two were expecting their second babies. they told me things like:

"the first months with my daughter were the hardest thing i have ever gone through in my life." (katie, mother of stella, age 2)

"i feel like it took us about nine months to really get into a groove." (aaron, father to esme, almost 3)

"honey, the wistfulness will pass." (christine, mother to owen samuel danger, age 13 weeks and lucy)

"i don't remember a thing, just getting her up in the morning and taking her to art classes." (ted on his 30-something daughter julie, grandfather to matias, age 2) and in response, "yeah, that's because you didn't have to do anything." (his wife, cynthia)


and all of the young parents said the same thing to me, echoing their refrain:

"it gets easier, it gets easier, it gets easier...."

and i woke up this morning (despite another night of insomnia...i just wanted to hold max but i settled for being held by bdub), actually believing them.

"it gets easier." (noelle, mother to max, age 9.5 weeks)

24/7 realness

one of the most fascinating attributes of my son, max (now age 8 weeks, 4 days) is his propensity for complete and utter realness. an 8 1/2 week old does not know how to be fake, he cannot yet be coerced into pleasing us, he doesn't do stuff just to be cute.

i am finding, then, that the adorable coos that come right after he sneezes, the dimpled smiles that greet me in the morning, the velvet painted child's eyes that hold my gaze in love and wonderment....they've hooked me with their sincerity, grace, and truth. i'm done.

a little holiday cheer from the lasters

nothing beats a hannah anderson package arriving in the mail, especially when it contains goodies for both babe and beast!

check it:

max's soundtrack - october - november 2008

are you alright?- lucinda williams- west
when i'm sixty four- the beatles- sgt pepper's lonely hearts club band
comin' in from the cold- bob marley and the wailers- uprising
tiny dancer- elton john- greatest hits
the tide is high- blondie- autoamerican
i'm sticking with you- the velvet underground (sung by mom)- vu
let's get it on (live version)- marvin gaye- marvin gaye live
abc- the jackson five- abc
(what a) wonderful world...- sam cooke- best of sam cooke
don't worry baby- the beach boys- sounds of summer

the promise

i wish i could remember the exact date; let's say some time a couple of weeks ago. i looked upon him and promised him that i would never put my own shit upon him, never make him responsible for dealing with my shit. never lay by burdens on him and reverse the crucial roles of parent and child. love him fiercely. allow him to make his own mistakes, to fall down and get back up, to let go, loosen the strings and seek, find, love.

on motherhood

as i lie with babe beside me in his bassinet, i pray for sleep...for it to wash over me. for now i sleep with one eye open, ear to the cradle, brain prattling off the SIDS checklist, trying to reassure me that he is safe (no loose bedding, on his back, plenty of air circulation)... and as i ponder this loss--the loss of sleep and the fear of ultimate loss-- i think of my more selfish loss, too.

it is amazing how pregnancy prepares us for this sacrificial loss. i feel like for the better part of a year my body has been training me for loss. and here he is. and with every wave of emotion that rushes over me, every intense morsel of lovey goodness, the tide seems to take a little piece of the old me back with it. the girl (and yes, even a thirty-four i would still tend to view myself as a warped seventeen year old, a little reckless, a girl who would hoard love) without so many cares, whose life she had designed as such that she could go out on a figurative school night without fearing how she would feel in the morning...

love is funny this way. try as i might, i find it impossible to focus on the now, without looking to the past, to what i could have been until now, to how i could have loved my own mother more (as she made her way to the terminal i could think only of her sacrifice, and of the hundreds of times i had disappointed her or not loved her back). i think of the future: will he ever need me as much as he needs me now? will he ever know this love i have for him? should he?