Month: November 2008

My private blogosphere, all 136 blogs that I read daily, is absolutely lit up with pride and joy and delight and tears today. My blog list, like my magazine list, is as diverse as my many personalities. All of these varied bloggers, who write about motherhood or technology or cooking or fashion or literature or the contents of their very own hearts … everybody is talking about Barack Hussein Obama and what he means to them. This is, after all, the whole point of him (I think): the promise of reengaging a hopelessly cynical people who are about to give up. To resow hope. What is better than that?

And, yes, now the hard work starts, after the euphoria ends. It sounds like he has a good plan for that.

I really, really, really love Dr. Rick. We had a great appointment today, Grace checked out as average size (45.5 inches, 50%, and 43 pounds, 40%) and all seems well. He is magic with her; he addressed all of his questions to her and she was open and responsive. Also did a sight check and that is 20/20.

We spent most of the time talking about school and social emotional things. Grace averred that she likes to play alone, which was fine, until her lip started trembling a little bit and she confessed that she doesn’t feel like a lot of the other kids want to play with her. This is consistent with what the teachers said in her conference and I confess it surprised me. To enjoy being alone is a wonderful thing, and a gift I hope I’ve given her. To feel left out and excluded is, of course, not. There was an episode on the playground last week that has me a bit worried about the peer pressure in the class. In combination with her description of the other kids being “real friends” with each other but not with her, I’m feeling ambivalent about her school for the first time.

Talking to Rick was helpful. His is, as usual, a wonderfully calm, moderate voice of wisdom. He did ask that I keep tabs on the anxiety Grace is exhibiting though. I feel such an aching familiarity with her concerns and behavior. She so clearly wants people to like her, wants her peers to want to be her friend; I worry that this can become corrosive and can lead to losing touch with her very own self (as she used to say as a toddler: “I want to do it my very own self!“).

Nothing to do but watch and wait, and keep telling her that she is great just by being her very own self.

One of the two people that this night is all about to me.

I am sitting on my couch, alone, spellbound, and with tears running down my cheeks.

This is an extraordinary moment.

I watched Obama’s 27 minute infomercial this morning and found my eyes filled with tears more than once. I have a big, inarticulate hunk of emotion in my chest; I am full of hope about what this country can be, both pride and ambivalence about what it has been, and gratitude that extraordinary people like Barack Obama are willing to step up to positions of immense responsibility.
This emotion is complicated: it is partially the way I feel when I watch the WW2 vets march by in the Fourth of July parade, but it’s also the way I feel when I watch my children growing up genuinely unaware of racial and ethnic difference. It’s the fundamental optimism I sense in the American people, and it’s also shame about both international arrogance and domestic materialism. I know that nothing is certain yet, but I am deeply proud of our country for (hopefully) electing Obama president.

I feel very proud to be an American today. Well, if things go the way I hope they will, that is. Long lines to vote inspire me.
… See my Tabblo>