Look What I Can Do
When my son was born I gave up everything. Not "everything" like when I was pregnant, and stopped indulging in vices everything, (I actually gave up relatively little, though twice I suffered through nine months without eating raw eggs in the form of batter), but "everything" like I quit coaching at Radcliffe to move to an outpost at the tippy top of Illinois without internet or panes of glass in the windows. From a certain vantage, I was the most selfless young mother, putting herself on hold, committed so fully to the emotional well being of her new baby. In another light, though, I was just plain lucky have been able to stay home and play. I slept when Henry slept, woke up when Henry woke. I had the happiest baby in all the world and I loved every single moment. To paint myself as a martyr is mostly inaccurate. I didn't mind not having the internet, I didn't care that much about the lack of dishwasher, I happily shared a single car with
