I Never Would Have Survived 1939

I set out to write about marriage today — something that I feel much too naive/expertly qualified to discuss — but I have about 10 minutes before I head out for Noah’s preschool pick-up.

So let me just put a bookmark in that thought while you ponder over this little gem I found. It’s a Marital Rating Scale from 1939 that shows the “merits” and “demerits” of being a husband and wife, created by a guy who credits himself as an Ph. D and an M.D.:

If only my husband would read newspapers aloud to me and leave me an ample allowance. And if only these crooked seams in my pantyhose and ghastly red nail polish weren’t ruining my marriage. The answers are all here, folks. All here.

**UPDATE: A reader found the entire survey for us! Yay! Read the entire thing here, in all its antiquated glory.

[via Babble.com]

Babble Posts

I’ve been busy writing about style, products and pregnancy over at Babble.com. Here are some of my faves:

After many months (years?) of trial and error, I’ve finally worked out a consistent schedule that’s working well for me. Transitioning from an office setting to a work-at-home lifestyle has been an utter dream, yet balancing it all has been…tricky. Right now I’m alternating nights of 4-hour sleep and 9-hour sleep (give or take a toddler’s wake-up call) and it seems to balance out. I also have a solid 6-hour chunk of working hours three days a week, with specific time scheduled in for chores. So fingers crossed! I’ve already been more productive and organized than I’ve been in a long time. (And being a by-the-books Virgo, that’s basically everything.)

Next step: Scheduling in some exercise. Baby steps.

Have a relaxing weekend, everyone!

Poetic Truth

“Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and he bends you with his might
that his arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies,
so he loves also the bow that is stable.”

 

— Kahlil Gibran, “On Children” from The Prophet.

***

I’d also recommend reading Kahlil Gibran’s wise words on marriage, which pop into my head on a weekly, if not daily, basis — especially this last part:

Sing and dance together and be joyous, 


but let each of you be alone, 



Even as the strings of a lute are alone 


though they quiver with the same music. 



Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping. 


For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts. 



And stand together, yet not too near together. 


For the pillars of the temple stand apart, 



And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.


Dance Party!

More frequently than you’d probably believe, Noah and I have full-out, no-joke dance parties — jumping, wiggling, and shimmying in the center room of our apartment, which we’ve made into a play room/office/dance floor. I put on one of my Pandora stations, while Noah dictates “Faster, mommy! I need a faster song!”

But occasionally when a slow song comes on, he takes my hands as we spin around, and I listen to him laugh that gut-belly laugh that radiates happiness, until the birds are laughing and the leaves are dancing and people in airplanes are smiling and have no idea why. The kind of laugh that forces my brain to crawl out of my eye sockets, climb down my face, and shake my body like a hysterical mother — I need to remember this! I need to soak up every single second of this!

That kind of laugh.

For a long time Noah’s favorite song to dance to was Katy Perry’s Last Friday Night — so much that I even downloaded the song for him. At first I thought that made me a good mom, to spend my money downloading a song that made him so happy, but then, after listening to the lyrics 3 bagillion times, I realized that probably the exact opposite is true. Yet catchy it is.

Now he prefers to boogie to this Kimbra tune with a similarly catchy melody. (I think she’s from New Zealand, and she’s pretty rad.) I have to admit, when you birth a child who comes out singing show tunes and Disney songs, sometimes a pop-y break is much needed.

Yes, I see the irony in posting this song to a group of women who have, in fact, settled down at an age that I can only imagine would horrify Kimbra. But nonetheless, we can still rock out to it.

Happy dancing!

 

 

No Words

***

Thank you to my favorite photographers — Nikki, my sister, and her boyfriend Chris, who turns 25 today:

Happy Birthday “Uncle Tris!”:

I Think About This Almost Every Day

You should too.

On Growing Up

Noah is obsessed with magic wands, which he makes from just about anything that’s long and skinny. Just in my eyeshot, I see two tree sticks, a plastic golf club, a drum stick, and an empty paper-towel roll — all his magic wands. And that’s only a fraction of his wand hoarding.

But these aren’t Superhero wands or even magician wands, but fairy wands. As in the Three Good Fairies and Fairy Godmothers. After a love affair with Sleeping Beauty (make it pink! make it blue!) and Cinderella, his new favorite wand-related source of music and happiness is the Rodgers & Hammerstein version of Cinderella with Whitney Houston and Brandy. Remember that ABC special? Back in ’97?

He loves it. (So do I.)

And, naturally, because he’s a human with a pulse, his favorite song to sing around the house is Impossible. He especially likes the part where the lyrics change to say It’s Possible (because of the zanies and fools who don’t believe in sensible rules).

So do I.

***

I like to think I’m “grown up” now — what with a marriage certificate tucked away in an organized filing system, butted up next to my child’s Social Security card and our insurance policies.

But — c’mon. I’m not. I’m not.

Noah’s 3rd Wizard of Oz Party

I’m down at the Toy Fair again all day today, but I wanted to give you a peek at Noah’s Wizard of Oz party we had over the weekend: