Me, sighing with resignation as a disgruntled Evan claws at my legs and a painfully whining Zoe sprawls out on the floor beneath me: “Five Days.” Its weighing heavily on my mind.Tim, giddy and excited: “Five Days!”Tim left town today on a five day business trip.

I hear it every day — people do this every day. But, I don’t want to be a single mom, even if its only for five days.

Its the night before the election. A bazillion folks are logging on right now ready to wax poetic (or incensed or… whatever) about the fate of our nation. My words won’t offer much in terms of original thought, earth-shaking notions, or moving commentary. They’re just my words.I’m not particularly concerned about the results of tomorrow’s election. Don’t get me wrong — I personally believe one candidate is a total weenie (how’s that for moving and earth-shaking?), and would really prefer not to have to listen to him for an additional four years (hmmm…just who might I be talking about?) But, on the other hand, its not like I have some overwhelming “amour” for the other candidate. He’s fine, I guess. I suspect he’d do “ok”. But, his biggest asset? He’s not the other guy.

And before you think I’m going to go off on a tirade about how bad it is that my vote “for” someone is actually more of a vote “against” someone else…forgeddaboutit.

In fact, I rather don’t mind that I’m voting “against” the other candidate. Quite frankly, I’m glad I’m doing it. I find a certain comfort in the believing that there really isn’t a politician out there that I’d out-right admire and throw all my support towards — believing that — AND — believing that we’ll all be perfectly OK even if that is the case. The point being, this country will generally keep on keepin’ on no matter who’s standing behind that White House Seal.

Don’t get me wrong — there’s stuff about some candidates that down-right scares me — but I don’t believe that one candidate, or even one party, for that matter, would ever overwhelm our culture and make the “scary stuff” the law of the land. We’re just not “made” that way.

I recognize I’m being optimistic. I just hope I’m not being foolish or naive.

Sometimes, its the little things that can get you through the day.Evan has been sick with a cold or sinus infection or the colly-mobus for close to two months now. And he had been miserable. And, to be honest, he was making me miserable. The constant crying, whining, needing to be held, and general inability to show any sort of joy or happiness on his part was making me feel angry, resentful, and, yes, guilty for feeling angry and resentful. Classic mom guilt stuff.Finally, some relief in the form of begrudgingly prescribed antibiotics came yesterday. I’m not sure how much work those antibiotics can perform in less than 24 hours. But, I’ll take the placebo effect.

Evan was more animated, happy, engaged, interested, creative, jovial — and a thousand other descriptors — yesterday than he had been in weeks. I got my son back. The one I wasn’t sure was there anymore.

He walked more yesterday (with my help) than he had — ever. He giggled at books and pictures. He played games with me. He flirted. And, last night, when I put him in bed — instead of his usual “roll over and bury head in corner of crib” routine — he rolled on his back, looked up, smiled and waved at me.

I could have sworn he said, “Hi, mom. Long time, no see. Glad to be back.”

I’m glad you’re back, too Evan. Welcome Home.

(Had I posted my thoughts yesterday on the topic I’m about to broach today, the entry would have been an entirely different one. Its interesting how things can work themselves out. )I belong to a book club. I happen to be the administrator, which basically amounts to sending email on a regular basis reminding members of the month’s selection and the date and time for the discussion. The book discussion usually takes place over several bottles of wine and is often quickly cast aside in favor of juicy neighborhood gossip. It’s a raunchy girls night out puttin’ on airs.Our most recent selection was: Having Faith: An Ecologist’s Journey to Motherhood. In brief sysnopsis: its a personal account of one woman’s pregnancy, birth, and nursing experience folded in with her knowledge and research about fetal toxicants and breastmilk contamination. Its certainly not a typical selection, but it was selected by one of our “atypical” members. Fair’s fair — we each are provided an opportunity to select a book for discussion in turn.

Shortly after the book was selected another individual emailed me “off line” and questioned the appropriateness of the selection. The basis of her concern was the fact that our group includes many non-mothers along with mothers. I bristled on two accounts.

First (and only minorly) because, though I am the administrator of the club, I am not the leader of the club, and I don’t want to be the arbiter of any issues that arise. I believe in and encourage group arbitration for any issues of concern. I simply didn’t want to be in the position of negotiating the appropriateness of the selection between this individual and the person who had selected it in the first place.

My second concern was of much more import. I was befuddled at the fact that the issue of appropriateness was being questioned. Our only guidelines for this book club are that any selection must be available in paperback and should not have been read by any other member of the club — two very objective, measurable standards. Judging whether it was insensitive to any one of our many diverse members was, in my opinion, absolutely out of line. But, admittedly, I dodged the issue. I replied back to the original complaintant and indicated that the selector was *not* a mom, and therefore couldn’t be construed as shoving a “mom” book down the non-mother’s throats (so to speak). She consented and I thought the conversation was over.

Fast forward to the day before the book club is to meet to discuss this book. I receive yet another email from the original complaintant and she reiterates her concern about the book. She indicates that her concern, in fact, has grown significantly and feels that the selection was entirely inappropriate “on so many levels”. She felt it was a) too academic, b) insensitive to anyone pregnant, nursing or trying to get pregnant and c) too mother-centric and thus a turn-off to those who were not mothers. She believed that many in the group did not read it because they were turned off by the topic. If no one reads the book, she mused, is it a good choice?

Had I posted on this topic *yesterday* (prior to the actual meeting of the group) I would have been angry, frustrated, and, yes, annoyed. She and I exchanged several email volleys on the subject before I eventually picked up the phone and discussed it with her for well over an hour. We ended up “agreeing to disagree”, but I still felt very passionate about my level of disagreement with her arguments. Risking seeming insensitive to the other members of the group, I was steadfast in my belief that deeming it inappropriate would have been akin to censoring it — or, at least, supporting a spirit of censorship for subsequent selections. I stewed on it for hours, and dreaded the topic coming up during the actual meeting, which was sure to happen.

All’s well that ends well.

Yesterday evening’s book club discussion was the liveliest (and most respectful) that we’ve had in years. Years. Interestingly, the complaintant and myself were the only mothers in the group — the rest were non-mothers (though, admittedly, none were in the “trying to get pregnant” group). Everyone, including the complaintant, said they truly enjoyed reading the book. And the conversation was lively, substantial, thought-provoking and challenging. Folks had so many differing opinions on the book, and we all listened what each had to say — ultimately giving the book a good, thoughtful critique. Topics that I never considered were raised by others from their observations; surprisingly, for example, whether or not the author’s beautiful prose describing the process of organogenesis was indicative of her views on abortion. That quandry never entered my mind while reading the book, and I was glad to have had it come up in discussion. Far more flowed out of the conversation that I’m able to capture here. Suffice it to say, I enjoyed the book and enjoyed even more our discussion on it.

And, yes, the issue of whether or not the book was an “appropriate” selection was raised. I’m not sure whether anyone agreed or disagreed with the complaintant — I’m not sure, in fact, whether the complaintant herself walked out of the discussion feeling the same way she did when she came in. But the topic was well hashed over and was an integral part of the evening’s discussion. The selector was very surprised by the concern of the selection being too “mother-centric”, as, in her opinion, the book was primarily about environmental hazards and only secondarily about motherhood. The rest of the group brought a mixed bag of feelings on the issue, but no one indicated the book was “insensitive” and shouldn’t have been selected.

I left feeling energized but inwardly focused. I still had a lot of thinking to do. But I was grateful to know that it wasn’t just “me” who felt there’s no such thing as an inappropriate book for book club

I’ve also finished that quilt I mentioned in my first entry. Wow. That was truly a fun and rewarding activity. Go ahead. Label me: “marm”. I laugh at the thought of it — me?! a quilt?(pause, Z is awake–time out for mayhem and general crap for two hours)

where was I? Oh, yeah. The quilt.

So…about two weeks ago I got it in my head that I *had* to make a quilt out of Zoe’s (and, subsequently, Evan’s) clothing from her (and his) first year of life. I’d always wanted to have them made — by someone else — and had saved the clothing for that purpose. But, for some reason, I decided I wanted to do it myself. And so, without a single class on quilting–or even sewing– under my belt, I tried.

And it really was a lot of fun. As soon as I got over the fact that it wouldn’t be perfect — and realized the mistakes were just “quirky manifestations of character”, I had a total blast with this. It was fun on so many levels (to use a phrase that harkens to an entirely different entry I’ve yet to compose…). It was fun to touch, feel, and work with the very fabrics that Zoe had worn her first year. So many memories!! I admit, I was a little intense with my effort — spending every spare (and not-so-spare) moment of naps and post-bedtime on it. I got it finished in exactly a week.

But it was so much more than the personal connection with the fabrics that brought me such joy. There was something fundamental about the task — clipping, pinning, sewing, tying…clipping, pinning, sewing, tying…something mindless and yet mindful at the same time. And, yes, the sense of accomplishment when it was all done — seeing it go from scraps (poorly cut) to pinned-together piece work to finished piece work to quilted to bound — was extremely rewarding.

I don’t suspect I’ll pick this up as a hobby — I’ll do Evan’s in a couple of months and that probably will be “it” for a while. Its not exactly *quilting* per se that was so rewarding — it was the “task” to be done — the challenge of learning something new and actually doing it with some degree of success. I know I’ll find countless other tasks to do, and they all will be fun (or I won’t do them), but, for now I’m still relishing my most recent quilting success.