DC Metro Moms

Who are you channeling today?

In Saturday's LA Times columnist Meghan Daum covered a new book written by Susan Faludi, "The Terror Dream: Fear and Fantasy in Post-9/11 America." Essentially she writes that the premise of the book is that 9/11 drove women back to our traditional gender roles. In fact, apparently the rampant fear of further attacks and desire for national security has driven us to find security and comfort in traditional roles of masculinity and femininity.

Huh?

I mean - is anyone else just as confused as me?

Apparently we've "abandoned" our careers and chosen motherhood over business and professional success because we are afraid of Osama, lurking in dark, shadowy caves, coming out to get us.

Anxious Days

"Mom, come! Come, Mom! Come, come with me!"  All day today, my little one has been following me around, taking my hand, leading me outside, to the playset, to the garden, to the places where he plays, asking me to play with him.  I am so tired, and achy, and more than a little anxious about tomorrow's chemo, where I start a brand-new chemotherapy drug that I know so little about.  His grandparents are here to play with him, but today, he knows something's up, and only Mom will do.

So I go with him, of course.  I haul my aching body over to his favorite places, to the swings, to the playset, and lie down near where he is playing, calling words of encouragement, and being available for hugs and kisses when the he bumps his head or needs a little extra love in his day.  This is what I do.  This is what I do best.  I love this little guy.  But still, some days I get tired, and achy, and more than a little anxious.

Perhaps I should stop reading the newspaper.  For it certainly doesn't help that today is October 3, 2007.

Sad

I'm one of the lucky ones. I wasn't in danger on 9/11. I didn't have friends or relatives in the danger area. I didn't have to make frantic calls. I lived in California, and woke up after we knew it was terror and not accident.

But I remain affected by that day. When I read about that day, or hear stories about that day, or watch images from that day, I am filled with a deep sadness that is mostly unlike any other emotion attached to my life. I know I should probably be angry, but mostly I'm sad.

A September 11 History Lesson

Last year on September 11th I wrote a post about how I linked the present to the past with my then 6 year old son.   I felt this is a lesson worth revisiting...

The afternoon school bus arrived at the bus stop and my 10 year old son buzzed by me, with a smile and a nod, on his way to the back yard.

My 6 year old son came bounding off the bus and walked up to me. While I noticed he had his usual smile, he came up and wrapped his arms around my waist and gave me a big long hug. Then he asked in a quiet voice, "Mom, do you remember what happened 5 years ago today?"

Yes. I do.  "Let's sit down on the step and I'll tell you."

I told my son I also remember a September when I too was 6 years old. The beginning of a new school year. Walking home, taking the elevator up to our 7th floor apartment in Brooklyn Heights, grabbing my father's big heavy black binoculars. I would climb up in the window seat and scrunch up so I could balance the binoculars on my knees. Peering thru the two holes, fixing my gaze on a point across the river. There I would sit for a few minutes, every day after school, keeping track of the progress. Watching the tiny men through the big black binoculars balanced on my knees. Watching the buildings get bigger and bigger. And this would be my ritual for three more years until the World Trade Center was completed.

I saw the smoke rise

Six years ago today, I saw the smoke rise from the terrorist attack on the Pentagon.  It is as clear in my memory today as it was last year, when I wrote this rememberance, and as it will likely be every year for the rest of my life.  I saw the horror, from across the river, and I will never forget.

I remember.  I will always remember.

Is this really America? Thoughts from 9/11 in DC

I will never ever forget September 11, 2001. At the time, I worked about 2 blocks from the White House and as odd as it seems now, was actually at work before 9am, before all hell started breaking loose. I had the TV on in my office that morning and watched the first plane head into the Twin Towers in disbelief and horror. I recall thinking that it must have been some kind of horrible mistake as chills went up my spine.

Then I called my mom because, well, what else do you do when you see something awful? My mother immediately said "It's Bin Laden."

Of course I argued with her and then the second plane hit and people in my office started freaking out. I then called my dad, a Foreign Service Officer, at his office in the Embassy in Ottawa. The time line is a bit of a blur, I can't remember if the plane had hit the Pentagon yet at that point, but it was my dad's calm that really struck me.  He said "Every thing's fine, Monie, just go back to work, I've got to go to the bank."

6 years ago

6 years ago, today, I was on my honeymoon in the Outerbanks of North Carolina.  We walked into the breakfast room of the lovely inn we were staying at, and watched a plane fly into the Twin Towers. Like most honeymooners, we had not watched TV for the week we were away. I had no idea if this had happened all ready, was happening now, or was a bad reconstruction of what could happen.

Little did I know.

We went back to our room and turned the TV on.  The Towers fell.  The Pentagon was hit.

Remembering

My name is Michele and this is my first post at DC Metro Moms.  When I joined, I certainly didn't think my first post would be about 9/11.  I was thinking more light and local, a story about what to do at the beach in the fall, or a rant about how I can't believe I am "The Grown-Up".  Then this week a good bit of the September 11th coverage turned out to be about the reduction in coverage.  (Funny how the news likes to make itself the news sometimes.)  So my first post will be of a more sombre tone that what you will likely see going forward.  Because it is too soon to forget, and I AM the Grown-up now.

Six years ago, almost to the minute, I was in a staff meeting.  It was a gorgeous day and we all grumbled about having to work and about all of the other things we would rather be doing.  When I left the short meeting to head to another, I stopped by my desk and was   surprised to find I had four new messages already;  my mother, my husband, my sister, and my husband again.  All of them increasingly alarmed and upset about something happening in New York.  We were a good two hours away from New York, what was all the fuss about?  I didn’t have time to call them back, and I went to the next meeting with my boss.  Her phone rang incessantly, and we both tried to ignore it until someone came in and told her she was needed in an emergency meeting.  We cut our meeting short and as I walked back to my desk I saw others clustered in cubicles, watching CNN and MSNBC reports on their PC’s.  I got snatches of details from my co-workers, and saw others gathering their things and leaving for the day.  It wasn’t even 10am yet. 

Silence

Six years ago today, I was working in an office building near Dulles Airport.  A coveted window seat, where when the work got a bit too dull I could just swing my chair around and watch the planes coming in – looking like they might land on the roof over my head or the fountains in front rather than bothering to fly the last two miles to the airport.

Six years ago today, I lived in an apartment a few miles from my office, a few miles further from the airport, but directly on the flight path.  So many planes flew just over our heads every day that I had long ago stopped noticing, long ago stopped hearing the constant engines or noticing the ever-present contrails.

So Many Things Unchanged

The morning of 9/11 started out as a welcomed respite for me.

We had been home from China with our new daughter for about eight months. During that time, I discovered not only how hard it was to be a mother, but about all the challenges that come with giving up a 20+ year career to be a stay-at-home mom for a while. My best friend Marjorie was visiting from Alaska and we were sitting in the local Starbucks, eagerly anticipating our shopping trip to Georgetown. The sitter was on tap for the whole day and I was free for the first time in many months. Plus, my excellent friend, who I didn't get to see often, was visiting for a few special days and we had many plans for that time that we were busy discussing over our decaf, skim lattes.

And then my cell phone rang.