Jami Presents: Read at Your Own Risk Poems

Can there be a more angst-ridden being than a teenage girl? The answer, my friend, is of course not. No one feeeeels as deeply as a hormone-fluctuating girl in the throes of crushes and the maze of high school life. I've been there, I know. And an almost universal outlet for the Feelings Which Cannot Be Contained is crappy poetry. I don't know if this current generation, with their shocking lack of literacy have kept up (text poetry? "I c u luv her ih8 u jeff. u should luv me, wtf?" but in my day, lo, these many years ago, every 13-to-18 year old girl had a notebook somewhere with her super-secret sometimes-rhyming thoughts. When I cleaned out the attic this summer I threw out about 6-7 lined notepads jam packed with poems so bad they could have exercised the ghosts of Walt Whitman and Emily Dickinson. I just found yet another one, and for your reading "pleasure" I present: JAMI'S HORRID TEEN YEARS POEMS - one even rhymes. Read 'em and weep. When Darkness Falls When darkness falls and my best friends are tears When I find myself alone with nothing but my fears When I cry out to someone, won't you take my hand? I'm so glad you're here. I know you'll understand When my heart is broken and all the pieces lost When I reach out for love no matter what the cost When I cry out to someone, won't you take my hand? I'm so glad you're here. I know you'll understand. ___(untitled)__ I cannot accuse, for I am also guilty; I would be convicting myself. Friendship assumes many different forms. Some cannot be understood But must be accepted. ____________ Mourn! For another dream has died. And I feel the wind blowing my tears away. My heart tries not to break, but it wants to. Cry! I cannot judge, for neither do I trust One I learned is lost in her lies. The other is too far hidden to find the truth. Based on some of the titles of other poems, my best guess is that these were written the summer between my junior and senior years. Some are much happier, but what fun is that? My deepest apologies for scarring your brain with these.

Jami on the Why of Parenting

My my, half a month since I've posted. So busy, it's true. Today my sister-in-law and I discussed the idea that so-called "stay-at-home" moms rarely get to. She suggested the term "in the car" moms, which sounds more reasonable. Or "Sometimes I get to stop by my house long enough to clean it" moms. I noticed awhile ago that many of us moms seem to spend time half-jokingly complaining about our kids/duties/lives. And I wonder if those who don't have children think we dislike being parents. I also know that lots of people hate it when someone says that being a parent is the hardest job there is, because let's face it - there are jobs that are physically more demanding (though I haven't had one that is), careers that require more formal education or a certain type of learning ability, occupations that are at least as emotionally challenging if not harder (pediatric oncologist, for one). I think, though, that the difficulty in parenting is that it's constant, it's rewards are less immediate and tangible and the idea that if you screw it up, you're messing up a person. There's not a manual or a "right" way to do just about every part of it. No one really can train you because even someone who as 10 kids never had your kid. So then, you're asking, why did you do it and more importantly, why did you do it again? If having kids is such a chore, heartache and stress, why does anyone have a second one? or more?? And I actually spent the last couple of days, when I had a few moments (in the shower, feeding Finn in the middle of the night) to try to answer that. The best answer I can give you is, I can't tell you. Not that I don't know, but that I can't describe it to you. Imagine that you had never seen a sunrise, not even a photo or drawing. Plenty of folks had described it you, sounds nice enough, but you don't like to get up early, and your house doesn't have a good east-facing window, so you'd have to actually get up, get out of bed, get dressed, go outside, find a good place to watch it - seems like too much work. Then one day, I convince you to give it a go. We get up early, even though we're still beat. We get dressed and drive to this place where there is supposed to be a really spectacular sunrise. Now you've inconvenienced yourself, spent time, energy, money and all this and you're wishing you had just slept in, when we come around the bend and BAM! There it is: the world's most beautiful sunrise, ever. While we watch it, you're not thinking that your bed would be warmer and comfier, or that gas prices are high enough without driving all over for no good reason. You're not thinking that you could have just looked at some pretty painting and it would have been close enough. You are totally in the beauty of that perfect moment as the sun colors the sky in all its brilliance and a new day has started. That's parenting. It's tiring and frustrating and expensive and unending. But even in the moments when you're considering FedExing your children to Zimbabwe, you have in your heart the indescribable joy of knowing, loving and just plain old having your children. And that's why we do it.