"Here one must leave behind all hesitation;
here every cowardice must meet its death."
~Dante Alighieri: The Inferno, Canto III, lines 14-15
~Dante Alighieri: The Inferno, Canto III, lines 14-15
Welcome
to my blog, "From Dante to Diapers." Within this rather limited
sphere I plan to discuss everything concerning me, and quite honestly, that
involves everything from the medieval poet Dante Alighieri to the joyous task
of changing diapers. You see dear reader; this blog is meant to be my outlet, a
place where I can spew forth my driving need to discuss philosophy and history
in combination with the pros and cons of early potty training. Random you say?
Perhaps, or maybe it is simply a unique twist of genius?
I
cannot guarantee what you will find here, but I can assure you that it will be
exactly what I want it to be! The quotation featured at the beginning of this
post is fairly self-explanatory; it is a beautiful quote penned by the
magnificent Dante over eight centuries ago. I have made it my motto and it is my
way of stating that it is here that I will abandon all fears of rejection and
self-doubt. I was born to write, what exactly I was meant to write is still my
quest. Hopefully this blog will help me find my very own holy grail. So move
over Sir Galahad, your chivalrous glow has been disparaged, this is my story
and I intend to write it. To death with cowardice! So, without further ado, I
will begin.
Perhaps
some are wondering what a 13th century Italian poet has to do with diapers, or
diapering for that matter. I dare say there may even be some who have no idea
who Dante Alighieri is, if you fall within that category please do not be
dissuaded, you will leave here wiser if you so choose. However, I do not intend
to write an essay on the life of Dante, so if you wish to learn more about him
you can read about his illustrious and influential career here.
Before
I can go on, I must address the title of this post, “The Diapering of Dante.”
At first glance this title probably appears pretty lewd; however, please
recognize that I have no intention of hypothetically restraining one of the
world’s greatest authors and strapping a Pooh bear Huggies on him. (FYI…my
imagination is teeming with ways to continue this gross nightmare, but I will
spare you the details of my morbid sense of humor!) No, it is a different sort
of diapering of which I speak, a “diapering”in the Heraldric sense. And just to
prove it, here is the alternate dictionary definition of “diapering.”
Diapering: In Heraldry, Diapering (from an old term for damask) is a
technique in which those who draw achievements of arms attempt to decorate
large areas of flat color by drawing crosshatches or arabesques. There is no
standard, and each artist is allowed his own idiosyncrasies. ~Reference
Thus, the post title simply denotes my
intention to draw attention to the achievements of Dante Alighieri, and I am
free to do so according to my own standard and idiosyncrasies! Touché!
I could bore you with paragraph upon
paragraph of Dante’s merits, but I will simply say this. His words are a
brilliant sort of decadent honey, echoing through the ages and dripping with
wisdom and philosophical meaning. And most importantly, he represents the
ending flourish of a medieval renaissance that burst into bloom during the 12th
century. (For the more curious, I assure you, there will be more about this at
some point in the future.)
Oh, before I close I should probably state my
history and purpose. I will make this as brief as possible. Basically back in
2007 I was a bookish undergrad history student under the mentorship of a number
of brilliant Professors. For some reason they saw promise in me and said my “raw”
talent could be fashioned into Oxford and Cambridge material, I swooned (not at
the professors but at the prospect of Oxford and Cambridge!). I was determined
to become a PhD in Medieval history and change the world with my new
discoveries on an age that has been most terribly wronged. In the midst of my
hasty preparations to transfer to a more promising institution that would
spring me into Ivy League circles, I met a gorgeously dark and handsome man.
What can I say? I crumbled and fell head over heels in love. Within four months
I had kissed goodbye to a full ride scholarship to the more prestigious institution
and kissed my groom hello with a heartfelt “I do.” Over a year later I was
clutching a toilet seat and puking my guts out as I prepared to welcome the
universe’s most adorable poop machine into the world.
So here I sit, the mother of an
eighteen-month-old toddler, up to my elbows in stale cheerios and at my wits
end because of the constant “whiff” of his defecations! Oh, but don’t get me
wrong. I LOVE my life! For all that they are Oxford and Cambridge could never
compare to the joy of my little boy’s kisses and the rapture of welcoming my
gorgeously dark and handsome husband home with freshly baked banana bread. You
see, I truly did go from Dante to diapers, but I am trying to find myself in
the jumble. I am lost somewhere between Thomas Aquinas and Cistercian
apocalypticism. It is a stormy sea, filled with pacifiers, skinned knees and
medieval flagellants. I am trying to make sense of this wonderful crazy life,
so if you dare, you are welcome to come along for the ride.