Allegheny River photo by Wolfgang Stearns
Today’s post is inspired by Gabrielle Blair’s blog, Designmom (www.designmom.com). She is featuring a series called Love the Place you Live and has invited bloggers to contribute.
Pittsburgh is a vibrant, gorgeous city hugged tightly by the Allegheny and Monongahela rivers which join to form the mighty Ohio river. Because of this geographical position, Pittsburgh is the US city with the most bridges. There are over 90 distinct neighborhoods in and around the city limits which give it an artful, culturally diverse flavor. Pennsylvania is a beautiful state with lush greens and gentle mountains and this city is nestled within these Penn’s Woods like a shiny, bright emerald in the sun.
Carnegie Natural History Museum photo by Wolfgang StearnsKayakers on the river photo by Wolfgang StearnsBridge into the city photo by Wolfgang Stearns
When my kids were younger I wanted to instill grand ideas; how to be a kind person, how to have empathy, how to be honest, how to have good manners. They were so little and I was so adamant.
Now they are teenagers.
My ideas have changed. I remind them to wear coats, I remind them to eat. I remind them that mistakes happen, sometimes, big mistakes happen. What path is to be taken after making those mistakes? What wise choices make themselves available? Will they avail?
Be happy, not necessarily behaved. (but don’t get arrested)
Be strong, not necessarily compliant. (but don’t get expelled)
Be true to yourself, not to society’s expectations. (but don’t break your curfew)
This part of parenting, this evolution and expansion of thought makes me wince and smile and stare out windows with glassy half-closed eyes in the midnight solitude.
Before I had kids, I knew exactly what kind of mother I wanted to be. I knew the rules, I knew the consequences. As the years go by, I know less and less. Who’s rules do I follow? What really are the consequences?
How can I know less now than I knew then?
Make mistakes, take chances. (but be safe)
Take a risk, don’t always take the safe way out. (but be wise)
Strike out a new path. (but don’t forget where you came from)
Of course, it’s just a matter of what I thought I knew. Now I really know, that I don’t know anything.
Day One — Today I’m grateful for my family. I’m grateful for my husband, for our apartment with the views of the river, for my warm safe bed.
Day Two — Today I’m grateful for my work. I get paid to pick colors and move images around on a page. That’s amazing, and I am so grateful for this.
Day Three — I’m grateful that I have good friends. I’m grateful I live in a beautiful city.
Day Four — I’m exhausted. I’m not feeling grateful. I’m feeling spiteful. Should I start a spiteful list?
Day Five — I know I’m supposed to pick something to be grateful for even though I don’t want to. I’m on day FIVE and I’m feeling done with this exercise. I am an ingrate.
Day Six — I’m grateful that I take Lexapro. Clearly, I should be taking more.
Day Seven — I’m grateful for my family. Also, I like chocolate.
Day Eight — Today I yelled at a guy in a parking lot who was sarcastic with me. I should have let it go. It wasn’t important. I’m grateful that I didn’t slap him.
Day Nine — I’m grateful that my kids are really nice people. Most of the time. My kids are teenagers and they do things that teenagers do. I’m grateful that I don’t want to give them up for adoption. Most of the time.
Day Ten — I’m grateful I can say “I’m sorry” when it matters.
Day Eleven — I’m grateful for strong black tea and pumpkin scones.
Day Twelve — I’m grateful for the sparrow that visited the table yesterday while Neve and I ate Brioche at a cafe.
I see this river every day. Herons fly past our windows and geese call out through the early morning mist. Sometimes I see fish breaking the surface of the water and riding a perfect arc on their splashy return. Barges sail by, heavy and intimidating throughout the night and day. Ducks with iridescent colors swim the quick current downriver towards the city.
I am grateful for this beauty today.
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