9 years ago today my daughter was 6 months old, so probably my feelings and memories of this historical event will always relate to being a mother. 10 years ago, I had just resigned from my job (working in the local university residence halls as area director) and switched fields to study secondary English education. After G was born, I continued to "stay home" and took graduate classes until I started teaching when she was 2 and a half years old (7 years ago).
Earlier today I took G to her annual "well child visit" at the pediatric office where we have been going all the years of G's life. Listening to the doctor talk to G more than me directly was really interesting. The doctor discussed self-image, confidence (Do you think you look good? I agree!), peer pressure (Sometimes kids are mean around your age. Are any kids in your class mean?), personal responsibility (Do you have chores and help mom at home?), and other developmental issues (Sometimes at your age you hear kids school talk about things that are different than what your mom says. If that happens, who do you believe, the kids or your mom?) in very child-friendly terms. I LOVED it! I'm going to be so interested to hear what the docs (in this group practice) discuss with her when she moves through adolescence. (I want to know what pediatricians tell my students, at least the ones who have regular check-ups.)
9 years ago this morning, I sat with G on the living room couch watching PBS show (Caillou) in our Buffalo apartment. Sometime between 8:45 and 9:00, I switched to NBC just to take a peek at the news and could not comprehend what I saw - the familiar Twin Towers with smoke, the Today Show hosts saying something serious - for a few minutes before reality sank in. I lived in New York City from ages 7 through 11, then 14 through 22. G was a fussy baby at the age of 6 months, but she was very calm and quiet all morning while I held her, my eyes glued to the TV. This is the lasting image in my mind from watching TV that day: a mom pushing a stroller with a young child in it on a Manhattan city street, trying to walk away from danger, trying to get home.