Finding a book at the right time…

A feminist book which addresses mothering, among other things. I just read and loved Notes From a Feminist Killjoy by Erin Wunker. She`s a feminist academic, blogger, activist and mother. She also, like me, loves Sara Ahmed.

She has a section of friendship that I love:

I hate most of the words used to describe friendship among women.

What is it about female friendship that inspires such insipid descriptors? I struggle to find a collective noun that fits my friends without itching in it’s not-quite-right fit. My girls (too infantilizing). My crew (I don’t row, so…). My gal pals (sounds like a condition. My tribe (too new age-appropriative). My bitches (just no). ….

I’ve been looking for the language to describe friendship among women to myself, but I haven’t found it yet.

Why is that?

What do we resist when we resist finding or forging this language? What do we lose when we don’t have the language to name the communities of care that hold our heads above water and bring us back to ourselves?

I’m thinking so much about communities of care lately, partly because of my new job. Now I’m re-reading Truth and Beauty by Ann Patchett, which describes a female friendship in the best way, in the most unique and beautiful way. Ann Patchett found the language that so few have. I still have to digest this book, and will have more to say later…

The First Day…..

I only cried a tiny bit. Little MB is having the time of his life with his new friends, two humans, two cats and a dog. I rerouted my brain from constant interruptions to focused, consistent working ability fairly quickly. My baby brain still has weird lurches to catch up to the rest of the world every once in awhile, but so far, so good. 2017, you’re alright.

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The truism that is my life right now…

How can time go by so fast? Time didn’t move so quickly before I had a child. In fact, it was often excruciatingly slow. I was underemployed, or unemployed, and time just stretched out in front of me – I wasted so much of it, just waiting for things to happen to me.

Also, my pregnancy was such a slog and seemed interminable. Forty weeks and two days stretched out like a nine-year limbo, full of seasickness, insomnia and boredom.

But now. These 11 months have gone by in a heartbeat. I’ll miss every second of it, even the tedium.

How fast we went from this:

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To this:

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