Metaphor
by Sylvia Plath
I'm a riddle in nine syllables,
An elephant, a ponderous house,
A melon strolling on two tendrils.
O red fruit, ivory, fine timbers!
This loaf's big with its yeasty rising.
Money's new-minted in this fat purse.
I'm a means, a stage, a cow in calf.
I've eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there's no getting off.
This question was Real Simple's prompt for their latest essay writing competition. I didn't end up having time to write and submit something, but I did like the question and decided to write a little something just for the heck of it:
“You’re just a baby having a baby,” an older gentleman remarked to me while we were standing in line at the grocery store. He was a kind, crusty old man who insisted on carrying my groceries for me and helping me into my car. To him, I probably looked about sixteen, though in actuality, I was twenty-five. Twenty-five and 9 months pregnant, joyfully expecting my first child. I certainly didn’t feel like a baby having a baby.
I felt ready. I’d figured out how to have the “happiest baby on the block” (I practiced my swaddling techniques using a teddy bear); I’d taken the baby’s car seat to the local police station so that they could make sure it was properly installed; I’d bought everything on the list. I was as ready as I’d ever be and I felt quite grown up.
In fact, I’d tried to be as grown-up as possible about the entire pregnancy. I was a high school teacher and I did my best to be professional about the whole thing. I hid my morning-sickness, almost vomiting on passing students as I walked/ran down the hallway to the restroom. After episodes like these, I’d smile my brightest smile, trying not to let on how awful I was feeling. I’d smile until the final bell rang and then collapse on my desk, often falling asleep in a hunched position at my computer. I’d wake up to find myself with my head down on a stack of papers to grade. I’d get up, eat a snack, often throw it up, and then get back to work. During lunch breaks, I’d set my cell-phone alarm and secretly take naps in my car. Somehow, I managed to get through that first trimester and I was proud that I’d managed it without telling anyone.
The rest of my pregnancy was thrilling. I eagerly read weekly emails informing me of my baby’s progress. I celebrated as the baby within me reached the size of a walnut, a lemon, and a pomegranate. I imagined my darling in utero sleeping, hiccoughing, and wiggling around. My students knew that to distract me from discussing symbolism in The Great Gatsby, all they had to do was ask about the baby and I’d soon be sitting on my desk, discussing baby names. (I figured the discussion was half-literary since the names Daisy and
And so as the due date came and went, I didn’t fuss over waiting a little while longer for her arrival. I felt comfort knowing that she was happy in her warm, nutrient-filled world. We enjoyed our “bonus days” with movies, mini-golf, and time with friends. And when the time finally came – 5 days overdue – for her to be delivered, we were ready and excited.
Nothing can really prepare you for the moment when you meet your child for the first time. I knew I would love my girl. But I didn’t know how overwhelming and how all-encompassing and how absolutely sudden this love would hit me. As I held my warm and slippery baby, I cried more than she did. It was all I could do.
As transformative as this joyous birth was, when I look back on it now, I see that I really was just a baby having a baby. My child’s entry into the world did not mark me as a “grown-up.” I learned to take care of Emmy and everyone else took care of me – particularly my mom. She flew in from
We could have continued this idyllic existence for a long time, but too soon, the day came that she would have to leave us to take care of ourselves. We hugged goodbye. I tried to be strong. I stood by the window, holding Emmy close, and watched Matt wheel my mom’s suitcase to the car. I watched her climb into the car, could see she was fighting back tears. I waved and watched as they drove away. When they turned the corner and were out of sight, I gave in to my sadness and let myself cry. Soon, though, Emmy started crying too. We cried together, and as I did my best to calm her, I found that I became calm. A part of me wanted to indulge myself – to curl up in my bed and cling to my sadness – but I chose her instead. I had a baby. A baby that needed me to take care of her – a baby that needed me to be a grown-up for her.
Enriched with two kinds of cheeses, this baked pasta showcases favorite summer vegetables at their seasonal best, including sweet corn, zucchini and fresh tomatoes.
Kosher salt, to taste
1/2 lb. penne
6 Tbs. olive oil, plus more as needed
Kernels cut from 2 ears of corn
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste
8 zucchini, about 2 lb. total, cut into half-moons
1/2 yellow onion, diced
4 tomatoes, cored, seeded and cut into 1-inch chunks
1 Tbs. sliced garlic
1 tsp. chopped fresh oregano
1/4 tsp. red pepper flakes
1 Tbs. tomato paste
1/4 cup white wine
1/2 cup thinly sliced fresh basil
6 oz. mozzarella cheese, grated
2 oz. Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, grated
Preheat an oven to 400ºF.
Bring a large pot of water to a boil over high heat. Generously salt the water, add the pasta and cook, stirring occasionally, until al dente, about 8 minutes. Drain the pasta and rinse under cold running water. Set aside.
In a 12-inch nonstick fry pan over medium-high heat, warm 3 Tbs. of the olive oil. Add the corn, season with salt and black pepper and cook, stirring occasionally, until the corn is lightly golden, 6 to 8 minutes. Transfer to a large bowl. Set aside.
Return the pan to medium-high heat and warm the remaining 3 Tbs. olive oil. Working in batches, add the zucchini, season with salt and cook, stirring occasionally, until the zucchini is tender and golden brown, 6 to 8 minutes. Add to the bowl with the corn. Repeat with the remaining zucchini, adding more oil to the pan as needed.
Set the pan over medium-low heat. Add the onion, 1 tsp. salt and black pepper, to taste. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the onion is translucent, about 2 minutes. Stir in the tomatoes, garlic, oregano and red pepper flakes and cook, stirring occasionally, until the tomatoes soften and begin to form a sauce, about 5 minutes. Stir in the tomato paste and cook for 1 minute. Add the wine and cook until the wine has reduced and the sauce is fairly thick, about 3 minutes more.
Add the pasta, tomato sauce, basil, mozzarella and half of the Parmigiano-Reggiano to the bowl with the vegetables and stir to combine. Transfer to the fry pan and sprinkle the remaining Parmigiano-Reggiano on top. Transfer the pan to the oven and bake until golden brown on top, 20 to 25 minutes. Serve warm. Serves 8.
Ashley and my Dad, dancing to "Lullabye"
Emmy was fascinated by Jared and Ashley cutting the cake. What a thrill!
Adam and Emmy enjoying the dance
I love this pic of the family - just a candid shot of us having fun together!
The happy couple
