Thursday, May 8, 2008

In the beginning

So where do I begin? This all feels so big and important and then I realize that this post, the words I write at this moment, in actuality will be seen by very few people. It is my practice post, my beginner post.If blogging had a kindergarten I would be in the afternoon class. (I'm not a morning person and showing up after lunch suits me better) In that light I suppose I should not say anything too important but saying nothing at all seems negligent. So here we go.

I have toyed with starting a blog for a long time now. Several years ago I was captivated by the book called "Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life." I loved the idea of having a place to document the random, but interesting thoughts, that zip through my mind in a given week. I started my own encyclopedia in a file on my computer and add to it when something strikes me just right. The latest entry was about my confusion over tube socks. Why on earth does every sock company package their product in resealable ziplock bags? Do other people ration their use of new socks? Am I supposed to be only using one set then sealing the bag back up to keep the other ones fresh? I feel so defiant when I rip past the zippered top and dump all twelve socks into the drawer at once. Should I be keeping my eye out for the sock police?

Anyway, just a snippet into my simplistic inquiring mind.

I have many other topics I could post on. A run down of the talent pool that I have to pick from. First there is hubby, the love of my life who drives me crazy but also keeps me sane. Then come the teenagers - Daughter, who just turned driving age but because of New York laws is not yet allowed to drive (thank heaven), Big boy, my oldest son who is just barely 13 months younger than his sister.

Next in line is Middle Boy, the one who brings laughter to our house and is still a delightful pre-teen at 11. Last up - Baby Boy, who is seven and a half but loves to play along with mommy when we pretend he is still three.

Several life experiences will taint my postings also. We spent the first three years of our marriage in NH, the next nine in MO, one in D.C., three in Utah, and so far two in upstate NY. Does that add up to 18? I'm not so good with math. Especially in the midst of several cross country moves, hauling along four kids(we decided to bring them all), a cat and a rabbit.

I have an education degree but since Daughter was born have been home keeping the peace. Hubby and I agreed before the wedding ceremony that we would do whatever it took for me to be home when our kids were young. Peace and Daily Joy were more important than material things or vacations. It has meant decades of rice and beans, handmedown clothes and ten year old vehicles but for some reason all of our memories default to piggie pile wrestling matches in the middle of the living room floor, making and wearing birthday crowns through the grocery stores on their special days, and homemade holiday cards loaded with glitter. No regrets.

Since moving to NY and being blasted immediately by the unbelievable cost of living I have taken on part time work. Baby is in first grade now so my school time hours are open and for the past nine months I have been blessed to work with a special group of Alzheimers patients. They have given me so much more than I have ever given them. More on them in future posts, I am sure.

And one big yet not so big aspect of my life...I am the proud owner of an artificial leg. No, not an artifact I bought at a yard sale that sits in the closet. The kind that slips onto my body in the morning and powers me through my crazy days. I say I am a one legged mom but in reality I am a one footed mom, hence the blog's name. I have one and three quarters legs. My prosthetic comes up and wraps over my knee so most people assume the whole lower half of my limb is missing. In reality I have *just* lost a foot. In fact, in the amputee community I am barely considered an amputee at all...losing just a foot hardly counts to true above the knee folks and those missing both feet. I am thankful, for sure.

To keep me centered and sane through life's adventures I have become a writer. Until last week I was not published but kept plugging away for my own sake. In my debut as a 'real' writer an essay I wrote a decade ago has been published in a mothering anthology called "The Mothering Heights Manual for Mothering." It was published by my wonderful blogging friend Christine Fugate at Motheringheights, net. I was honored to be included with many other wonderful essays describing the ups and downs of this crazy title. Check it out (meaning buy it, not visit the local library...) soon.

So now I will wrap it up and call it a post. Hopefully I have followed all the rules and the minute I hit that magic orange button that says "publish post" it will not get lost in cyber space. I dont think I could come up with anything important to say if I have to start this deal over. Plus I really don't have time to re-do it. It is time for my mid morning Dr. Pepper.

Until later,


Anonymous said...


LOVE IT! Of course, you should be blogging... with your amazing gift of writing and your incredible technological wisdom. It seems amazing that you've waited until now. I look forward to reading more.

And the title is priceless! Although I must admit, I didn't get it until you explained it. Seriously, I actually gave it some thought and, knowing you, I knew it had some deep signigicance. How dumb I felt when I read your explanation! I guess it just goes to show you that I don't think of you as a "one-legged or one-footed or one-anything" kind of woman. There are so MANY other thoughts that come to my mind first when I think of you: wise mother, insightful writer, loyal friend, giving and sacrificing person... your leg is just a "p.s." in a long letter of amazing attributes!

Keep going, girl! You've got a lot to say :-)

Proud to be chosen,

Anonymous said...

all of my empty sock bags end up on the floor bloard of my car. Which was weird that I even caught it because I usually only check the camera on the washer drier to snap images of run-a-wy socks, so I never expected the break-n-then-stash sock bag.