I have many creative outlets. But I've found that the longer I have this blog, the less I paint, write poetry or draw. Especially now, after having my son, the limited free time I do have, I tend to pour into entries rather than other creative avenues.
I've had some ideas percolating in my head for awhile now, especially for a new painting. It's time for me to focus on that, rather than this blog.
I have loved writing for an audience. Having this blog has been a wonderful experience. But this is my last entry. Thank you so much for reading.
Huh. The ambassador to Bolivia was recalled.
I didn't know much about embassies until my brother was posted at one. But now I understand that, according to the Geneva conventions, it is actually the duty of local police to defend an embassy. The Marines are in charge of keeping the ambassador and the embassy staff safe if the embassy is attacked, but the local police are supposed to deflect any attacks.
Last week, there was a violent protest outside the U.S. embassy. Protesters threw stones and firecrackers. The Bolivian police did an admirable job defending the embassy and dispersing the crowd of protesters.
However, just hours after his staff successfully fended off the protesters, the commander of the Bolivian state police was fired.
The State Department says it is concerned about Bolivia's commitment to keep the ambassador and staff safe. The ambassador was recalled to D.C. to discuss the situation. It's a pretty big deal when an ambassador is recalled. I imagine there is a lot happening behind the scenes.
I'm just hoping things calm down and my brother stays safe.
My son is no longer nursing. He's 14-months-old. I can't believe I nursed him for that long. It was so hard in the beginning, when he wasn’t on a schedule and I was his only source of nutrition. No matter what I was doing, when he fussed I would need to stop and find somewhere private to nurse him. It felt like he fussed every five minutes.
It was the hardest between months three to six, when he was a baby instead of a newborn, when it was easy to be convinced that he could take a bottle just as easily, when he wasn't sleeping well and demanded me all the time.
But we survived and started to figure out a schedule. Or rather, I figured out that I could put him on a schedule, that I could start deciding when he should nurse rather than waiting for him to fuss.
After that, it was still occasionally a hassle, but it also gave me great superpowers. If he bumped his head, fell down, was crabby, was sad…all those things I could magically fix just by nursing him. My son is incredibly active and squirming. He's not a cuddler (and neither am I). But during those nursing sessions, we curled around each other, skin to skin, and just marveled at each other. The nursing sessions created a bond between us that is magical and awe-inspiring. I'm so thankful I had the experience. I'm so thankful my husband supported me during the tough times, told me that I could stop is I wanted to, but knew I could keep going if I wanted to.
More than I ever thought I would, I am going to miss our nursing sessions. But I'm so proud of my boy, of his independence. He's brave and bold and intelligent.
I no longer have my nursing superpowers, but I get to keep that magical bond that I have with him. I am so blessed.
Last night, I heard yelling in the alley, followed by the loud and distinctive sound of a slap. I looked out the window and saw a man shaking a woman while yelling at her. I was home alone. I called 911 and told them a man was hitting a woman in the alley. I gave them the address of the building they were standing behind. While I was on the phone, the man struck her again. She was crying, but she wasn't running away or yelling for help. I assume it was a domestic dispute. I don't want to be the nosy neighbor, but I think calling the police is the right thing to do when someone is getting hit.
I did not go outside and ask if everything was ok. I didn't walk my giant dog over there to find out if the woman needed help. That woman will never know that I was watching, hoping that she would be ok. That I called for help for her. I didn't feel safe going out there and getting involved. Even if he started beating on her, I don't think I would have gone out there. I put my own safety (and my sleeping son's safety) ahead of hers.
I want to believe that I am the type of person who would help a person in need. But when the times comes, you think of a million reasons why you should just stay quiet and hope the police arrive. You think that perhaps you will make the situation worse, that perhaps the man will turn on you and hurt you, that perhaps he has a knife or a gun and you will be risking your own life for a stranger's.
And then you realize you are not the type of person to risk your own life for a stranger's. Not today, anyway.
The man yelled at her for about 30 more minutes, pushing her on occasion, but no longer slapping her. Then he got in his car and drove away, while she sobbed in the parking lot before returning to her building. The police never came.
My husband and I love taking walks in the summer, late at night, when the neighborhood is sleeping and everything is serene.
With a one-year-old who goes to sleep each night around 8 PM, late night strolls now take place around…4 PM. It's not quite the same thing.
As a compromise, I decided to create a peaceful haven on our balcony, so we could be outside during the summer nights while the boy slept in his crib. I found a tiny table and two chairs. I bought planters and planted beautiful flowers. It's really a nice space.
Today I looked out the window and saw two squirrels racing through the petunias…then start rigorously mating.
So I've made a nice, romantic escape…for squirrels.