So much wonderfulness has happened over the last year.
And I am eternally grateful to everyone who has held my hand through it all.
Thanks to you.
Monday, December 01, 2008
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Friday, November 14, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Confessions of a (Reluctant) Co-Sleeper
Never in a billion years did I imagine that I'd be one of those. You know who I'm talking about...a co-sleeper. One who sleeps WITH their children.
That's right. Yes, you read it correctly.
Co-sleeper.
The Bean has a perfectly acceptable (and I'm sure, quite comfortable) crib in her own room. It's decorate quite nicely with warm flannel sheets with little sheep on them.
Prior to actually having children, I always imagined that parents who slept with their babies were simply crazy. I mean, give up a decent night's sleep to have your kid curled next to you?
Then I had children. And like most first-time parents the reality between what "should" happen and what "actually" happens hit me like a ton of bricks. Apparently, some babies do voluntarily sleep alone from the start. You can put them down and they'll simply sleep.
Not my Bean. Never has and probably won't for some time.
She liked to be held from the beginning, curled in the crook of my arm, on her side, facing me.
My one regret of parenting thus far was fighting this. I have tried night in and night out, months on end, to try to get her to sleep, alone, in the crib. But inevitably, she ended up back in our bed at some point during the night. She has never slept in her crib a full night. Not once.
So I am resigned. I have accepted my fate as a co-sleeping parent and have embraced it. We bought a king-sized bed. It's likely that she will not be moving out anytime soon.
And in my resignation, I have found that I love sleeping with my daughter. I love seeing her lips pursed in sleep, as if she is blowing kisses to me in her dreams. I love feeling her warm breath smelling of my milk against my cheek. I love how she reaches for my face at night, to reassure herself that I am right there, still next to her, still protecting her. I love feeling her little sturdy body next to me, being able to brush her hair with my fingers. I love that the first thing I see when I wake up is her round face peering at me, smiling at me with sleep in her eyes.
Why did I fight this for so long?
It feels so right.
That's right. Yes, you read it correctly.
Co-sleeper.
The Bean has a perfectly acceptable (and I'm sure, quite comfortable) crib in her own room. It's decorate quite nicely with warm flannel sheets with little sheep on them.
Prior to actually having children, I always imagined that parents who slept with their babies were simply crazy. I mean, give up a decent night's sleep to have your kid curled next to you?
Then I had children. And like most first-time parents the reality between what "should" happen and what "actually" happens hit me like a ton of bricks. Apparently, some babies do voluntarily sleep alone from the start. You can put them down and they'll simply sleep.
Not my Bean. Never has and probably won't for some time.
She liked to be held from the beginning, curled in the crook of my arm, on her side, facing me.
My one regret of parenting thus far was fighting this. I have tried night in and night out, months on end, to try to get her to sleep, alone, in the crib. But inevitably, she ended up back in our bed at some point during the night. She has never slept in her crib a full night. Not once.
So I am resigned. I have accepted my fate as a co-sleeping parent and have embraced it. We bought a king-sized bed. It's likely that she will not be moving out anytime soon.
And in my resignation, I have found that I love sleeping with my daughter. I love seeing her lips pursed in sleep, as if she is blowing kisses to me in her dreams. I love feeling her warm breath smelling of my milk against my cheek. I love how she reaches for my face at night, to reassure herself that I am right there, still next to her, still protecting her. I love feeling her little sturdy body next to me, being able to brush her hair with my fingers. I love that the first thing I see when I wake up is her round face peering at me, smiling at me with sleep in her eyes.
Why did I fight this for so long?
It feels so right.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Joyous
It's been a long time.
I came across this quote today from Anna Quindlen. And, as luck would have it, I'm feeling exceptionally sappy. A rare day, indeed.
“I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of (my three children) sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less."
My whole life, I've always had problems living in the moment. I forever feel like I'm looking to the next step and not simply enjoying the now.
I cherish my life, my baby, my husband. I am so grateful to them and for them. And for my friends, far and near. And I don't tell them enough.
So thank you.
Today, I will live in the moment.
I came across this quote today from Anna Quindlen. And, as luck would have it, I'm feeling exceptionally sappy. A rare day, indeed.
“I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of (my three children) sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less."
My whole life, I've always had problems living in the moment. I forever feel like I'm looking to the next step and not simply enjoying the now.
I cherish my life, my baby, my husband. I am so grateful to them and for them. And for my friends, far and near. And I don't tell them enough.
So thank you.
Today, I will live in the moment.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Today, when I stepped in the shower, I smelled something I hadn't smelled in a long time.
The scent of chlorine.
Although I am the fire sign of Sagittarius, I was truly born a Water Baby. My first foray into a pool occurred sometime around my sixth month birthday and I've never stopped.
I grew up in a pool. I started swimming competitively around the time I could read chapter books on my own. Early morning practices, biking a few blocks to jump in a cold pool, warming after a few laps back and forth. The snap of the rubber cap against my skull, the depression around my eyes that goggles would leave for hours after practice.
But mostly, what I remember is the scent of chlorine that never seemed to leave my body. Even though swimming indoors was rare (meaning, all of my pool activities happened in the summer), I smelled like chlorine year-round. When I jumped out of the shower, the smell of the pool hung in the air for hours afterwards. Sometimes, in December, I could scratch my arm and smell the pool lingering fresh on my skin.
Eventually, I stopped swimming so much. Early morning practices and hot Saturday meets ended with high school. Lifeguarding ended with college. Summers in Arizona were so hot, the pool felt like bath water and did not feel refreshing enough to make it worthwhile.
I am determined to make The Bean a Water Baby. I want her to love the ocean and the pool as I do, to count down days to summer not to be out of school, but to be in a pool. Last weekend, we took her to her first pool. She seemed a bit hesitant at first, making her serious baby faces. But she warmed up after a bit and by the end, splashed and kicked with gusto. I swam a few laps myself, ecstatic at the silvery feel of the water.
The monsoons have come early this year, and with it, bringing the summer molds which make my allergies go haywire for a few weeks before the rain leaves us for dust for another year. I haven't been smelling much. But today, when I stepped into the shower, I smelled the scent of the pool.
Summer is here.
The scent of chlorine.
Although I am the fire sign of Sagittarius, I was truly born a Water Baby. My first foray into a pool occurred sometime around my sixth month birthday and I've never stopped.
I grew up in a pool. I started swimming competitively around the time I could read chapter books on my own. Early morning practices, biking a few blocks to jump in a cold pool, warming after a few laps back and forth. The snap of the rubber cap against my skull, the depression around my eyes that goggles would leave for hours after practice.
But mostly, what I remember is the scent of chlorine that never seemed to leave my body. Even though swimming indoors was rare (meaning, all of my pool activities happened in the summer), I smelled like chlorine year-round. When I jumped out of the shower, the smell of the pool hung in the air for hours afterwards. Sometimes, in December, I could scratch my arm and smell the pool lingering fresh on my skin.
Eventually, I stopped swimming so much. Early morning practices and hot Saturday meets ended with high school. Lifeguarding ended with college. Summers in Arizona were so hot, the pool felt like bath water and did not feel refreshing enough to make it worthwhile.
I am determined to make The Bean a Water Baby. I want her to love the ocean and the pool as I do, to count down days to summer not to be out of school, but to be in a pool. Last weekend, we took her to her first pool. She seemed a bit hesitant at first, making her serious baby faces. But she warmed up after a bit and by the end, splashed and kicked with gusto. I swam a few laps myself, ecstatic at the silvery feel of the water.
The monsoons have come early this year, and with it, bringing the summer molds which make my allergies go haywire for a few weeks before the rain leaves us for dust for another year. I haven't been smelling much. But today, when I stepped into the shower, I smelled the scent of the pool.
Summer is here.
Monday, June 23, 2008
A Worthy Goal
There is a shop in ABQ that sells only cupcakes. It is called Cake Fetish (yes, google it). Cupcakes of a variety of flavors and tastes, styles and deliciousness. Here's a random sampling of flavors:
Half-Baked – Chocolate Chip Vanilla Cake, Vanilla Buttercream and a Cookie Dough Center
“Hot” Chocolate - Chocolate Cake dipped in Chocolate with Chocolate Red Chile Buttercream
Razzmanian Devil - Chocolate Cake, Chocolate Buttercream, Raspberry filling and Chocolate Ganache
They have some flavors that are available every day and some that are available only certain days of the week.
One great thing about breastfeeding exclusively is that I can eat pretty much anything I want and not gain weight. I may not lose weight, but I'm able to maintain my current weight even while eating chocolate chip cookie dough for breakfast four days in a row. God bless the milkies.
Keeping this in mind, my mom-friend Claudia and I have agreed upon a worthy goal to complete by the end of the summer. We shall sample every flavor of cupcake before Labor Day.
Half-Baked – Chocolate Chip Vanilla Cake, Vanilla Buttercream and a Cookie Dough Center
“Hot” Chocolate - Chocolate Cake dipped in Chocolate with Chocolate Red Chile Buttercream
Razzmanian Devil - Chocolate Cake, Chocolate Buttercream, Raspberry filling and Chocolate Ganache
They have some flavors that are available every day and some that are available only certain days of the week.
One great thing about breastfeeding exclusively is that I can eat pretty much anything I want and not gain weight. I may not lose weight, but I'm able to maintain my current weight even while eating chocolate chip cookie dough for breakfast four days in a row. God bless the milkies.
Keeping this in mind, my mom-friend Claudia and I have agreed upon a worthy goal to complete by the end of the summer. We shall sample every flavor of cupcake before Labor Day.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Kung-Fu Cats
Naturally, now that we have a baby in the house, we have lots of baby items in the house. Paraphernalia that I was previously unaware of, stimulating the baby in ways I did not realize babies needed stimulating (I hate the term "tummy time." Barf). Swing, bouncer, Bumbo, carseat, Pack'n'Play, crib, dresser, changing table...the list goes on. (And now that I really take a look, I feel like this very small person---not even 14 pounds yet---is really taking up a lot of space.)
Lots of people ask how the animals are dealing with the transition. Since we own a menagerie of obnoxious animals, I can see the concern. The dog has adjusted well--she only gets a bit upset when the baby cries (but let's face it, who doesn't?).
The cats are a different story.
The cats, all three of them, are in love with the baby...or not so much the baby herself, but rather the previously listed things that come with the baby. They have taken up permanent residence on the baby's furniture. Every day, I find myself evicting cats from the bouncer, the crib, the changing table, the dresser...the list goes on.
It's really rather infuriating, getting their cat furs on everything.
I love them dearly, but I wish they were a bit less interested.
Lots of people ask how the animals are dealing with the transition. Since we own a menagerie of obnoxious animals, I can see the concern. The dog has adjusted well--she only gets a bit upset when the baby cries (but let's face it, who doesn't?).
The cats are a different story.
The cats, all three of them, are in love with the baby...or not so much the baby herself, but rather the previously listed things that come with the baby. They have taken up permanent residence on the baby's furniture. Every day, I find myself evicting cats from the bouncer, the crib, the changing table, the dresser...the list goes on.
It's really rather infuriating, getting their cat furs on everything.
I love them dearly, but I wish they were a bit less interested.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety Jig!
I am not sure that I spelled "Jiggety" correctly.
But anyways, I am back in Albuquerque after a quick trip home to VA to see my family. What a joy to be home. The Bean charmed the pants off of everyone she met--she was quite the little trooper. Only one day of meltdown the entire week and that was after a party the night before at her BFF Emma's house.
Flying with a four-month-old infant was quite the thrill. I'm truly amazed at how rude people are when they see a baby board a plane. Some are even outright hostile. One woman who boarded after her husband (sitting behind me) hissed at him, "How could you choose these seats! There's a BABY in front of us." I was seriously tempted to hold The Bean up over the seat and let the spit-up pour down. I refrained.
However, the woman sitting next to me did not hold in her vomit. I've probably flown close to fifty times in my life--across the world, for crying out loud--and I've NEVER seen anyone vomit into the flight bag. But she did. The whole flight. She also reeked of day-old booze. I was tempted to tell her not to drink herself into a coma the night before a flight across the country. I refrained.
So I'm home and summer is starting. Days are dragging out, the sun is hotter than ever and I am truly at peace.
But anyways, I am back in Albuquerque after a quick trip home to VA to see my family. What a joy to be home. The Bean charmed the pants off of everyone she met--she was quite the little trooper. Only one day of meltdown the entire week and that was after a party the night before at her BFF Emma's house.
Flying with a four-month-old infant was quite the thrill. I'm truly amazed at how rude people are when they see a baby board a plane. Some are even outright hostile. One woman who boarded after her husband (sitting behind me) hissed at him, "How could you choose these seats! There's a BABY in front of us." I was seriously tempted to hold The Bean up over the seat and let the spit-up pour down. I refrained.
However, the woman sitting next to me did not hold in her vomit. I've probably flown close to fifty times in my life--across the world, for crying out loud--and I've NEVER seen anyone vomit into the flight bag. But she did. The whole flight. She also reeked of day-old booze. I was tempted to tell her not to drink herself into a coma the night before a flight across the country. I refrained.
So I'm home and summer is starting. Days are dragging out, the sun is hotter than ever and I am truly at peace.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
I Am Here Today, Again
One more year down, but an infinity left to live. The day is almost gone, but here I am again.
The sharpness of the past has dulled over the last year. So many changes have propelled my life forward that there has been little time for reflection and looking back. But there, in the back of my mind, sits the thought of you. I am in a better place.
So still, I carry you in my heart, always.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Resigned
I am officially no longer employed.
Yesterday, I turned in my official letter of resignation to my supervisor and am embarking on the career of stay-at-home-parent.
It's scary not having a job. I can't remember the last time I didn't work, even if the job was only a few hours a week.
But it's exciting, too. I am thrilled to stay home with my baby while she is a baby--such a short time of her life. Work will still be there, waiting for me in a few short months when she's older, walking and talking.
And so, the adventure continues.
Yesterday, I turned in my official letter of resignation to my supervisor and am embarking on the career of stay-at-home-parent.
It's scary not having a job. I can't remember the last time I didn't work, even if the job was only a few hours a week.
But it's exciting, too. I am thrilled to stay home with my baby while she is a baby--such a short time of her life. Work will still be there, waiting for me in a few short months when she's older, walking and talking.
And so, the adventure continues.
Monday, March 10, 2008
In an Instant, Everything Changes
Literally.
January 21 at 11:30 P.M.
One minute, I'm writhing in the most agonizing pain known to woman-kind, my body taking over the task of expelling a human against my will; the next minute, there is a living, breathing, screaming baby on my chest, wet and sticky with life.
She is beautiful and I am in love. I think about her all the time, whether we are apart or together. I want to hold her constantly, feeling her soft skin against mine. I stroke her soft, fine hair, twirling it between my fingers like a lover.
This love, it isn't instantaneous but a gradual creeping that becomes utterly overwhelming.
This love, it is intense and all consuming.
This love. It is worth everything.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
Holiday Dispirit
The Christmas cards are rolling in and every time I rip open an envelope, I am racked with guilt about my lack of Christmas-carding this year.
I just couldn't do it. We couldn't do it. I mean, we barely put up a tree. Couldn't even FIND the menorah.
Normally, we send out a photo card with our cheerful faces smiling out from whatever desert location we happen to be living in that year. But this year, we just couldn't get it together long enough to find a time when we were both A) together, B) looking good enough to take a photo (i.e. no pregnancy fat face) and C) had someone available to take the photo.
Last weekend, we briefly pondered sending regular cards out with a nice message for all our family and friends. And then, I thought logically that we would be sending out dozens of birth announcements in about a month's time (eek!).
So my apologies to everyone out there. You ain't getting a Christmas card from Nuevo Mexico this year. But do keep your eyes peeled for a birth announcement in the next 3-5 weeks. Much like the Virgin Mary, I am great with child and very tired.
I just couldn't do it. We couldn't do it. I mean, we barely put up a tree. Couldn't even FIND the menorah.
Normally, we send out a photo card with our cheerful faces smiling out from whatever desert location we happen to be living in that year. But this year, we just couldn't get it together long enough to find a time when we were both A) together, B) looking good enough to take a photo (i.e. no pregnancy fat face) and C) had someone available to take the photo.
Last weekend, we briefly pondered sending regular cards out with a nice message for all our family and friends. And then, I thought logically that we would be sending out dozens of birth announcements in about a month's time (eek!).
So my apologies to everyone out there. You ain't getting a Christmas card from Nuevo Mexico this year. But do keep your eyes peeled for a birth announcement in the next 3-5 weeks. Much like the Virgin Mary, I am great with child and very tired.
Monday, December 03, 2007
Out of the Mouths of Babes
Standing in line at the Grove for a refill for my iced tea, this little boy (probably about 4 years old) comes up to me and asked, "Do you have a baby in your belly?"
He seemed a bit too young to know about babies in bellies, but I just smiled and replied, "Yes."
His father, who was standing in front of me, turned around to look at me and said, "Thank God!"
He seemed a bit too young to know about babies in bellies, but I just smiled and replied, "Yes."
His father, who was standing in front of me, turned around to look at me and said, "Thank God!"
Saturday, December 01, 2007
27
I am so blessed.
This month has been long. The Resident has either been out of town or working a busy schedule. We've had a few house disasters, including a poo-filled front yard. I've traveled coast to coast, which while fun, is exhausting when 7 months pregnant. A close friend of mine has had devestating news yet again and my heart aches beyond words for her. And my beloved cat Zola is dying.
The Resident was on-call today, my birthday, of all days. I fully expected to sit at home alone like I do most weekends when he works on-call. I envisioned watching bad television on abc.com (hello, October Road) and crying about my cat.
Instead, my reality was quite different. A good friend of mine from work drove down from Santa Fe to have birthday lunch with me. I met with my group of beloved writers for an afternoon of just being together, celebrating another year's novel complete. And this evening, another few friends stopped by so I would not be alone on my birthday.
My phone rang all afternoon, birthday wishes pouring in from around the country. Emails, e-cards, IMs and flowers.
I am about to embark on the most life-changing events within the human experience. I am both terrified and elated at this journey, but I know that I am fortunate to be surrounded by friends who love and support me.
I am so thankful for you, my friends. I truly hope that I give back as much as I feel I take. I only hope I can be half the friend you have been to me.
Thank you.
This month has been long. The Resident has either been out of town or working a busy schedule. We've had a few house disasters, including a poo-filled front yard. I've traveled coast to coast, which while fun, is exhausting when 7 months pregnant. A close friend of mine has had devestating news yet again and my heart aches beyond words for her. And my beloved cat Zola is dying.
The Resident was on-call today, my birthday, of all days. I fully expected to sit at home alone like I do most weekends when he works on-call. I envisioned watching bad television on abc.com (hello, October Road) and crying about my cat.
Instead, my reality was quite different. A good friend of mine from work drove down from Santa Fe to have birthday lunch with me. I met with my group of beloved writers for an afternoon of just being together, celebrating another year's novel complete. And this evening, another few friends stopped by so I would not be alone on my birthday.
My phone rang all afternoon, birthday wishes pouring in from around the country. Emails, e-cards, IMs and flowers.
I am about to embark on the most life-changing events within the human experience. I am both terrified and elated at this journey, but I know that I am fortunate to be surrounded by friends who love and support me.
I am so thankful for you, my friends. I truly hope that I give back as much as I feel I take. I only hope I can be half the friend you have been to me.
Thank you.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
The Name Game
It's recently come to my full attention that having a baby means having to name the baby. Yes, this is an obvious realization, but at the same time, the deeper meaning behind baby naming is often overlooked.
(For example, the name "Destiny" is the number 4 name for New Mexico. It should come as no surprise that a full 1/2 of births in this state are to single mothers under 20.)
I'm not just naming a baby. I'm naming a person. I'm actually starting a new person off in life. Another potential 80 years seen on this earth. A new birthday for ever and ever. And a new name. In an instant, everything begins.
So naturally, instead of our list of potential names getting shorter, they keep getting longer. Prior to getting pregnant, I had two names for each gender picked out and ready to go--first and middle for both. I was certain what I wanted. And suddenly, I have no idea. The universe has opened up and I have this one opportunity to make a mark. Everything and anything is a potential name. I'm listening for undertones and subtleties, for words that roll off and sound good together. Names that convey power, but also sound classic.
The one thing I do know?
It has to sound good in the Name Game.
(For example, the name "Destiny" is the number 4 name for New Mexico. It should come as no surprise that a full 1/2 of births in this state are to single mothers under 20.)
I'm not just naming a baby. I'm naming a person. I'm actually starting a new person off in life. Another potential 80 years seen on this earth. A new birthday for ever and ever. And a new name. In an instant, everything begins.
So naturally, instead of our list of potential names getting shorter, they keep getting longer. Prior to getting pregnant, I had two names for each gender picked out and ready to go--first and middle for both. I was certain what I wanted. And suddenly, I have no idea. The universe has opened up and I have this one opportunity to make a mark. Everything and anything is a potential name. I'm listening for undertones and subtleties, for words that roll off and sound good together. Names that convey power, but also sound classic.
The one thing I do know?
It has to sound good in the Name Game.
Monday, September 24, 2007
News-Wordy Events
Tonight the headlines for the ABQ news: "Drunk woman wearing only underwear struck by semi on highway."
Why did they need to announce she was wearing only underwear? Does that strike anyone else as odd? Of course, this is coming from the news channel that interviewed a man over memorial day who said (when asked about his weekend plans), "Well, I cain't afford another DUI, so I'll probably booze it up close to home."
In other wordsmith news, this Sunday was my writing competition awards luncheon. A few weeks ago, I was notified that my submission was a "winner" in my entry category and either placed 1st, 2nd or 3rd.
Your's Truly here won first place!
Honest to god, I was shocked. I was surprised my entry even won anything to say the least, much less first place.
So now I have reason to actually write the damn ending.
Stay tuned!
Why did they need to announce she was wearing only underwear? Does that strike anyone else as odd? Of course, this is coming from the news channel that interviewed a man over memorial day who said (when asked about his weekend plans), "Well, I cain't afford another DUI, so I'll probably booze it up close to home."
In other wordsmith news, this Sunday was my writing competition awards luncheon. A few weeks ago, I was notified that my submission was a "winner" in my entry category and either placed 1st, 2nd or 3rd.
Your's Truly here won first place!
Honest to god, I was shocked. I was surprised my entry even won anything to say the least, much less first place.
So now I have reason to actually write the damn ending.
Stay tuned!
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Lobster Tails
I had my first pregnancy breakdown this weekend.
We decided to go out to dinner and of all places, Red Lobster sounded tasty. So we headed over for the requisite 20 minute wait. The only seat available was right next to the lobster tank.
Mistake number one.
I took the seat and watched the lobsters crawl around on each other; I started thinking about the spiny lobsters we saw on our honeymoon while SCUBA diving. And the realization struck me, all of these lobsters were going to end up on someone's plate for dinner, probably sooner rather than later.
And the tears started. Not quiet tears, but great sobbing gulps of sorrow over the lobsters.
We actually had to leave the restaurant because I could not stop crying. Deep inside, I knew I was being ridiculous, but I literally could not stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks.
So we had vegetarian noodles for dinner.
And now, I'm feeling rather strange when I contemplate eating meat--odd from someone who's killed a chicken themselves.
Think about it. Plants practically BEG to be eaten--"spread my seed, diseminate my genes." They tempt you with luscious fruit dangling, ripe for the picking.
But animals? Animals, all animals, will run away if they can when you try to kill them.
We decided to go out to dinner and of all places, Red Lobster sounded tasty. So we headed over for the requisite 20 minute wait. The only seat available was right next to the lobster tank.
Mistake number one.
I took the seat and watched the lobsters crawl around on each other; I started thinking about the spiny lobsters we saw on our honeymoon while SCUBA diving. And the realization struck me, all of these lobsters were going to end up on someone's plate for dinner, probably sooner rather than later.
And the tears started. Not quiet tears, but great sobbing gulps of sorrow over the lobsters.
We actually had to leave the restaurant because I could not stop crying. Deep inside, I knew I was being ridiculous, but I literally could not stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks.
So we had vegetarian noodles for dinner.
And now, I'm feeling rather strange when I contemplate eating meat--odd from someone who's killed a chicken themselves.
Think about it. Plants practically BEG to be eaten--"spread my seed, diseminate my genes." They tempt you with luscious fruit dangling, ripe for the picking.
But animals? Animals, all animals, will run away if they can when you try to kill them.
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