Following on Alison’s post from yesterday, I know I speak for the entire GWP community in wishing her a speedy recovery. We can’t wait to have her back. And in the meantime, Alison, we’ll be with you on this journey, to support you however we can. We are all sending you love, healing, and good vibes.

In the spirit of passing around the vibes, I wanted to share this news: Yesterday, Kathy LeMay’s book, The Generosity Plan, hit the shelves. The book is a smart, practical guide to a new kind of philanthropy, one that everyone, no matter the size their bank account, can participate in. Endorsed by Arun Gandhi, Jennifer Buffett, Eve Ensler and Sheryl WuDunn along with other activists and philanthropists, it’s a must read for anyone who wants to contribute to making a difference for our world–something our own Alison already very much does.

Visit www.thegenerosityplan.com for more.  And deep congratulations, Kathy.

I’m a day late in posting this month’s Mama w/Pen column because, well, this mama has gone back to work. With huge passion for the venture and a pang of guilt in my heart (froze my first packet of breast milk last night in preparation for spending feeding time away), I join the legions of working parents who work at paid employment and at raising kids. Canned words like “juggle,” “balance” (which, from what I’ve seen and heard, is nonexistent) and “prioritize” (clumsy, inhuman term) allegedly now take on meaning. In truth, it’s always been a juggle—far before parenthood set in.

And yet. As my brain works to adapt to new realities, the imperative to multitask feels more intense–and actually absurd. This morning, when my partner Kamy Wicoff came over for a kick-off meeting with me, I actually found myself thinking “Will you take this breast and feed Teo for a sec while I write that email?” As if the parts were interchangeable—a milk-producing breast and a keyboard being merely two comparable peripherals to accomplish what I needed to do. It’s the same impulse that’s made me want to hit control “s” when I’ve had a thought I haven’t wanted to forget, but no pen in hand. Funny, how the brain plays tricks on you. My desire to be hyper-effective is that grand.

That desire isn’t new, only newly inflected. Now that Anya and Teo are here, the thousand and one things my brain focuses on in any given day here in this hyperstimulating city of New York become a thousand and two—or rather, a thousand and three, a thousand and ninety-four (there are two babies, after all!). The beloved new additions occupy not just bandwidth, of course, but a supersized chunk of my heart. They say your heart grows extra chambers when love is this big, and I’ve definitely felt those chambers expand. The trick, now, is how to put body, mind, and heart in service of the multiple jobs that must be done. I’m going to need a word far better than “juggle” to accomplish that trade.  I’m open to suggestion. Any takers?

(PS. Today is my mom’s birthday. Happy Birthday, new Grandma Renee!)

So many end-of-year appeals, so many worthy causes to support!  I wanted to share one from an organization that is particularly close to my heart: Girls Write Now.

The amazing girls and women of GWN set out to raise $50,000 at the end of the year, and they are only $7,000 short.  Here’s a little about them, below.  To join me in helping them meet their goal, please click here.

About Girls Write Now Girls Write Now is the first and only East Coast non-profit organization to combine mentoring and writing training within the context of all-girl programming, matching professional women writers one-to-one with underserved girls from public high schools across New York City. While almost half of NYC’s youth fail to complete high school on time, 100% of Girls Write Now seniors graduate and go on to college. Girls Write Now has been featured on NBC Nightly News with Brian Williams and in The New York Times, and honored by First Lady Michelle Obama and The President’s Committee on the Arts and the Humanities as one of the top 15 after-school arts and humanities-based programs in the nation.

Sending the GWP community my very best — Happy Belated Hannukah, Merry Xmas, Joyous Kwanzaa, and happy everything else! May the season find you warm and loved, healthy, joyful, hopeful, and jazzed.

The amazing ladies of WAM! are auctioning off one-of-a-kind items including the chance to travel, connect with your favorite feminists, own original artwork and autographed collectibles, and get editing advice from the best of the best – all to benefit WAM!. Bid early and bid often, because it all goes to support gender justice in media…Details here.

Anya and Teo are 7 weeks old today, and those first foggy days postpartum are only now coming into hazy relief. Going in, I’d feared postpartum depression; having had a few run-ins with that dark night before, I was all too aware of the risks. Thankfully, depression hasn’t hit. But my mind played some serious tricks on me those first weeks with the babies here at home.

My mind—anxious—obsessed. As in, when not attentively focused elsewhere (diaper, nurse repeat), my mind would wander into spin cycle, grasping over and over again a singular script. You’ll laugh when you hear it. The script went like this: I pretended I was Sarah Jessica Parker. Or rather, I wished I were.

SJP you say? Yes, that’s right. SJP became the object of my relentless postpartum mental gaze because SJP—a soon-to-be Brooklyn neighbor who had recently had twins herself via surrogate—was waited on, I was certain, hand and foot. Nursing at 3am and craving cinnamon toast and fresh orange slices, for example, I’d think: “Sarah Jessica’s cook would be bringing her cinnamon toast and oranges right about now.” And so on. It was the fantasy of the new mother who rather wanted to be cared for herself, and it just didn’t let up.

Until, that is, my hormonally crazed postpartum mind found a new object to twist itself around like a weed: spiders. I’d been up late one night after the hospital watching a National Geographic Special on newborn behavior in the animal kingdom. The program featured a breed of spider for which offsprings’ arrival signaled the mother’s death. Baby spiders hatch, so it’s not like the mother spider died in childbirth; rather, once the voracious offspring hatched, the tiny multi-legged carnivores would feed on the mother’s body, destroying her along the way. I watched, spellbound, repulsed, as she let it happen. It was nature taking its course. And while nursing, I just couldn’t let it go. It was the fantasy of the nursing mother who feared she might disappear.

My obsession with the baby spiders slowly gave way to one more—a fixation that is with me still and one I hope will not go away (unlike the others, which, thankfully, did!). This last postpartum fixation had to do with Marco, and our work/life arrangement, which is in flux. Following the mind meld with SJP and the fixation on the spiders, I became obsessed with the notion of Marco as a stay-at-home-dad. It’s one of many arrangements we are trying on, but in my mind, it stuck like glue. It’s the working mother’s fantasy, and it’s one that many couples have, of course, made real.

I never got my cinnamon toast exactly, though Marco makes me waffles, which do the trick; I no longer worry that I am that mother spider (phew!). But I do still dream about Marco, pictured here reading Michael Chabon’s Manhood for Amateurs with Teo strapped to his chest, being a primary caregiver. Postpartum blur, or potential solution? We shall see. In the meantime, we’re both enjoying these babies, and being home with them, so very much!

GET IT WHILE IT’S HOT: Demystify the blogosphere with GWP’s very own Courtney E. Martin. Attend the live online event TOMORROW or order the download to enjoy any old time! Register here, at She Writes.

Here’s the full court description (pun intented!):

What distinguishes a blog from a website? How do you find a blog that deals with your particular passions and interests? What is proper etiquette for getting bloggers’ attention and/or participating in the blog conversation? This workshop for beginners demystifies blogs once and for all, breaking down both the basic anatomy of a blog (blog roll, categories, comments, etc.) and the landscape of the larger blogosphere. Participants will walk away with a clear understanding of how to find blogs that interest them or pertain to their field, search for particular issues and experts within the new media landscape, and operate with savvy in the blogosphere—using blogs for research, promotion, and platform building.
Stay tuned for Part II, in which Courtney will demystify starting a blog and finding content to keep it fresh and attract traffic.

Courtney E. Martin is a writer, speaker, and consultant based in Brooklyn, New York. She is the author of three books, including the award-winning Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters: How the Quest for Perfection is Harming Young Women (Penguin, 2007). She is also a Senior Correspondent for The American Prospect and an editor at Feministing.com, the most widely read feminist publication in the world. She has appeared on most major media outlets, including The O’Reilly Factor, CNN, and GoodMorning America, and won numerous awards and fellowships for her writing and activism. Courtney is happy to coach both individuals and organizations in blog and book proposal development, new media outreach, and engaging young people. She also loves facilitating panels, developing conferences, and speaking on topics such as feminism, intergenerational dialogue, activism, youth culture, politics, and writing.

As I slowly reenter the world–Anya and Teo are 6 weeks old!–I can’t think of a better place to start than She Writes’ webinar tomorrow, “Time Management for Mother Writers” with Change Agent extraordinaire (and mother of two) Rebecca Rodskog. It’s not too late to register.  It’s at 1-2 pm Eastern Standard Time, via conference call and web.  Join us! And if you can’t, you can always order the download after the event. And also do check out the Mother Writers group at She Writes too–for “moms who write with spunk and sass.”

Not sure I’ve got spunk/sass yet since I’m a little, how do you say, sleep deprived, but I do have a post up over at the She Writes blog called : “Finding Mother Writer” which excerpts a GWP post of course.

Here’s to all you mother writers out there who have been doing it for some time.  You inspire the heck out of me over here!

Below is a message from She Writes founder Kamy Wicoff.  Please pass it on!

Dear friends and colleagues,

Last week, Publisher’s Weekly came out with its first-ever Best Books of 2009 list, and its Top Ten Books of the year included zero books written by women. Yes, ZERO. PW‘s explanation for the omission was outrageous, insulting, and smug: “We ignored gender and genre and who had the buzz. We gave fair chance to the ‘big’ books of the year, but made them stand on their own two feet. It disturbed us when we were done that our list was all male.”  As if PW‘s Top Ten Books List were an immutable truth handed down by God. (Sorry, girls!) As if women writers and writers of color, who, with one exception, also failed to make the cut, can’t “stand on their own two feet.”

Some of you have already heard from me on this subject. If you are a member of the network I recently founded, shewrites.com–an online community of 5,000+ women writers, established and aspiring alike, from all fifty states and more than thirty countries–you have received an email describing the She Writes Day of Action planned in response to PW‘s list. And if you are receiving this email, you are part of my personal network, and I am writing to ask that you take part in Friday’s action.

The PW list, while just plain silly, is also indicative of a larger, more insidious attitude toward women who write and the stories they tell (“small,” “unambitious,” “personal”). And to my mind, the extreme stupidity of this list presents an excellent opportunity to question the assumption that men’s work is important, and women’s work is, well, women’s work.

I thought of creating an alternative She Writes Top Ten Books of 2009 List, but decided I‘d rather honor the efforts of our community than create another inevitably flawed list. So I am asking all of our members to do three things on She Writes by Friday, November 13th:

1) Buy a book published by a woman in 2009, and tell She Writes about it.  If you published a book in 2009, send me a line and we will highlight it on She Writes’ book cover banner.  (Please join the network first.)

2) Post a blog on She Writes in response to PW‘s article–share your favorite books of 2009, or use this opportunity to sound off more generally.

3) Invite five fellow women writers to add to our numbers, and our power, at She Writes.

Many of you have the stature, the eloquence, and the platforms to call attention to this action in a way that will make all the difference to its success. A post on She Writes can be as short as a shout-out for a favorite book of 2009, or as simple as reposting something you have already written on this subject (Katha Pollitt, Elaine Showalter, Francine Prose, and Laura Miller all come immediately to mind). My hope is to spur book sales and lively discussion. If you have any questions or want any assistance in joining the site or posting a blog, please don’t hesitate to write to me at kamy@shewrites.com.

Kamy

On October 20, 2009, I became a mother.

Since it’s all far too big to digest, I’m starting with a small bite first: the hospital, where mothers are made, not born.

I’d always thought I’d cry in the delivery room or, as happened to be in my case, the OR. The way I pictured it, I’d hear the wail of a healthy baby (in my case, two) and I’d be so overcome with relief and beauty and gratitude, moved by the sheer spectacle of it all, the tears would flow and flow and flow. Because that’s what mothers, and fathers of course, do. But to our surprise, neither Marco nor I cried. Surprising, since both of us consider ourselves gushers.

Instead, it was more a feeling of frozen awe.

When Anya and Teo were pulled from my open belly 14 days ago and I first heard their newborn gasps for air, in stereo, I felt numb. Literally, figuratively, emotionally. Eventually I cried, when we brought them home and laid them on our bed and together with my parents sang a Shehechiyanu, the blessing of gratitude for having reached this season. But I shed not a tear in the hospital. Don’t get me wrong. I felt relief and beauty and gratitude. But I mostly felt surreal.

Me? A mother? Of two? In all honesty, it still hasn’t sunk in. And I’m thinking maybe that’s ok. When I spoke to a dear friend, a mother of two, about this feeling of disconnect between the love I feel for these two new beings and the sense of myself as someone’s “mother,” she told me she still felt that way–and her oldest is now four.

I get that mothers are of woman born, but do all women immediately, naturally think of themselves as mothers at the moment of that becoming? I’d love to hear your experiences, your thoughts.