September 8 "Call for a Midwife" II

National treasures and flowers in the second week of school.

The first two days of the first week were a day of national treasures, a day of flowers, and the third day I gave myself a holiday. I, an Obasan with jagged white hair on my head, myopia plus presbyopia, a periarthritis of the shoulder in my left hand, and a semi-dislocated patella in my right leg, ran and carried my luggage for two days in a row, and I really needed to slow down; the fourth day of cleaning, the fifth day to welcome the return of the mythical beast, time flew by, like a white colt crossing the gap.

The first three days of this week have been doing things, and at the moment of the epidemic, online processing is becoming more and more convenient, and there is basically no problem at home that cannot be solved through phone calls and WeChat. I also read through the textbooks of national treasures and flowers in general, and I also set a general study plan myself.

I think I can be regarded as an "excellent parent", as a result, last night before going to bed to brush the circle of friends, found that there are always parents more excellent, there are several parents who are strict with themselves, have begun or finished the peiyou volume, and have been insisting on learning with children [thinking]

I'm going to adjust my plans too, why? Prevent Alzheimer's disease, not be looked down upon by children, lead by example, and use time reasonably...

I read the foreword to Call a Midwife today. There are a few unfamiliar words, and they must all recognize me, but I have to visit their house to be sure [cover my face]

PREFACE

In January 1998, the Midwives Journal published an article by Terri-Coates entitled “Impressions of a Midwife in Literature”，After careful research right across European and English-language writing, Terri was forced to conclude that midwives are virtually non-existent in literature.

Why, in heaven's name? Fictional doctors grace the pages of books in droves, scattering pearls of wisdom as they pass. Nurses. good and bad, are by no means absent. But midwives? Whoever heard of a midwife as a literary heroine? Yet midwifery is the very stuff of drama. Every child is conceived either in love or lust, is born in pain, followed by joy or sometimes remorse. A midwife is in the thick of it, she sees it all. Why then does she remain a shadowy figure, hidden behind the delivery room door?

Terri-Coates finished her article with a lament for the neglect of such an important profession. I read her words, accepted the challenge, and took up my pen.

生词：fictional lust remorse lament