A Decade

When you're young, a decade seems an unimaginably enormous amount of time. The eighties, for example, were pretty much my whole childhood. It seemed almost unfathomably long. When I would look ahead 10 years, I would think, "My God, I'll be so old then. That will be so weird."

That perspective changes over time, of course. Now, when I look back 10 years, it seems like yesterday, in so many ways. That's especially key today, the 10th anniversary of my grandfather's death. Now, it seems inconceivable that it's already been a decade. It's gone by so quickly. Nearly everything about my life that could've changed in that 10 years has. So much has happened. And yet, I remember that day as vividly as if it were yesterday. And I miss him as if he'd just been gone a short time, rather than 10 years.

It's so strange to think that someone who was so very important to me has been gone almost a third of my life, now. But the 23 years he was in it must have been more formative, I think, because he shaped such a huge part of who I became, even after he was gone. I've written here numerous times about the ways he impacted my life, and the ways he taught me what to expect from life and love.

Even since he's been gone, he continues to be so important to me. I talk to him about the important things, and at the times I need him, I know he's there. Still, what I wouldn't give to have him here in the physical realm, to hug me, to rub my head, to tell me everything will be ok. I miss that.

I realize, of course, that grandparents are generally only in our lives for the first bit of it. That's the nature of generational divides, isn't it? I realize that the death of an 85 year old grandfather is not a tragedy. But losing someone who means so much to you always hurts, doesn't it? And you always miss those people, don't you?

So, today, on the 10th anniversary of his leaving his physical life, I'd just like to tell him what I tell him most days, anyway. I love you, Buck. Thank you.

December 2nd

For such a long time, I doubted I would ever get married. I mean, I'm a romantic and I always believed in love, and I always knew I couldn't settle for less than the real thing and hoped I'd find that. But I had sincere doubts. I wondered if it could ever really happen for me. And my experiences with relationships seemed to confirm that. Time after time, just as I felt like it might be "it"...it would fall apart. And then, the one time it mattered most, it didn't. Sometimes, I still have moments where it all seems kind of surreal. Like today, when I realized that three years ago from that moment, I was enjoying my first dance. I waited so long for something that has sped by in the blink of an eye. It's crazy!

Anyway, my point is...thanks for making it all seem so easy, E! xoxoxo

What?!

Where the heck did the rest of November go?!

Singing Along

It's probably pretty clear from previous posts that music plays a pretty big part in my life. My grandfather is the proverbial leader of the band, so I think it's in my blood. I need near constant music, and if I'm not actually listening to any, chances are I've got a song stuck in my head to keep myself entertained.

There are so many bands I love and have loved, I can't even really count them. Probably, the mainstay bands I've loved most of my life are U2 and R.E.M. I barely remember a time I didn't love those bands, and I particularly remember falling in love with U2 when I was eight.

For the past few years, my favorite band has been Dashboard Confessional. I kind of stumbled onto them in 2002, when a friend of mine made me a birthday mix CD and put 'The Places You Have Come to Fear the Most' on it, and then around the same time, my gym kept playing the 'Screaming Infidelities' video. The next summer, I listened to 99X in Atlanta on line at work, and they would play 'Hands Down' in pretty heavy rotation. I went out and bought A Mark, A Mission, A Brand, A Scar and their unplugged CD...and my love affair with their music was officially on.

If you aren't already aware, this week they released their new album, Alter the Ending. It's as close to a perfect album as I've come across recently. Every song on it is a home run; heartbreaking and gorgeous. I literally cannot get enough of it. And the band has been on TV quite a bit, promoting the album. Generally, they've been playing the first single, 'Belle of the Boulevard' which is just a fantastic song.

I realize that as posts go, this one's not all that interesting, but trust me when I tell you...if you're looking for an album to get hooked on, this one's a good bet.

HA!

Well, that previous post was a day early, I'd say. This morning, B had to go in for another abdominal ultra-sound because his spleen is still slightly larger than it should be. He had an ultra-sound last spring and they determined the enlargement was likely due to a viral infection. But when he went for his 2 year appointment last week, the doctor noticed it was still large. So, the ultra-sound this morning. To say that B was unpleased with people yanking up his shirt and poking and prodding at his belly would be an enormous understatement. He was screaming and thrashing the entire time he was on the table, which is not really his usual demeanor. He cannot abide being restrained and isn't all that crazy about people touching his belly without his say so, and the combination of those, on top of being surrounded by strangers, was way too much for him. It was totally excruciating to have him so upset and be unable to calm him or comfort him in any meaningful way.

Meanwhile, the radiologist was not exactly a source of great comfort, telling me that the fact that he wasn't holding still was causing the pictures to come out blurry and making it look like his kidneys were too small too, and how they needed to get pictures of his lymph nodes to definitively rule out Leukemia/Lymphoma. I feel very strongly that words like these should not even enter the conversation unless or until absolutely necessary. Long story short, his kidneys are fine and his lymph nodes are too, and since his blood work has been normal, they've ruled out any of the really scary stuff. But in addition to relief, I'm feeling utter emotional exhaustion.

Raw Nerves

Once you become a Mom, you get put on everyone's distribution lists for all those "Mom" emails. You know the ones. They talk about the unfathomable beauty of motherhood and they describe, sometimes in detail you don't really need, the ways motherhood impacts every last aspect of your life. And it's not that they're not accurate. They usually are. But on the whole, I find them to be not all that well written and I find they kind of try too hard at eloquence. Not that I am like a bastion of writing excellence, but I'm entitled to my opinion.

But there is one I've gotten a few times that always kind of strikes a chord. It talks about how motherhood is like having a heart on the outside, or a permanently exposed nerve. That shit? Is true. That's precisely how it feels. No longer can I see any sort of movie, TV show, news story, etc, etc, about a mother losing her child or a child losing his mother without breaking down in tears. It's immediate and powerful.

This morning, B had to get an H1N1 shot. I've been terrified that he wouldn't be able to get one, and with his history of asthma, that could be a bad thing. But then, when it was time to get it, I was scared to death. I know the risk of not getting one is much greater than the risk of getting one. I know all the facts and did the research. But immunizations are still nerve wracking to me; this one in particular, since it's still pretty new. And of course, getting shots in general stinks because any time I have to be complicit in causing my child pain is a time I do not enjoy in the least. But it all went fine, of course, and my little toughie was barely phased, especially since he got a lollipop after the shot. The nurse said he was her best patient all morning!

Anyway, that raw nerve sometimes bleeds into other areas of my life, and so I apologize if you're one of the unlucky ones who's taken the brunt, on occasion.

TWO!

Today is B's second birthday. It seems impossible that he's already two, and yet it also seems impossible that he's only been in our lives for two years. The conundrum of parenthood. Of course, when babies turn one, they generally don't really "get" the whole birthday thing. They know they get presents and cake, but they don't really grasp why. It's still slightly fuzzy even at two, but they're starting to get it more, at any rate. B has really been enjoying singing Happy Birthday today, considering it's one of his favorite songs anyway. And he's definitely quite taken with the fact that we're saying, "Dear B." He's also really enjoying telling everyone he's "TWO!" today (hence the post title).

I remember some things from October 25, 2007 so vividly it's as if they just happened. Other things are such a blur they might have happened a lifetime ago. Again, the conundrum of parenthood. Mostly, I remember the mixture of emotions - elation and stark terror, exhaustion and hyper-alertness. I remember thinking that I wasn't really so sure, after all, that I was ready for this. And of course I wasn't. No one ever is. But here I am, two years later. I still don't know what the hell I'm doing, a lot of the time. But I do know that I love my son more with every day that passes, and I know that I would do anything for him, and in the end, that's probably the most important thing.

Happy Birthday, Buddy Bud!

Life's a Funny Thing...

Our condo in Nashua has been on the market for several months, and hasn't yet sold. It's been SO frustrating to us. We've been racking our brains, trying to come up with things we could do to help it sell. And then, the week before last, E got offered a job up that way. We both felt like it was some kind of tremendous stroke of luck or divine intervention for him to get such a great opportunity in this economy, in a location he can get to pretty easily from where we happen to own a home! Crazy!

I had been praying and Secreting about a development like this so hard for so long, it almost didn't feel real at first. Now, it's sunk in, and we're in the reality of trying to work out logistics. What will this mean for our family? After all, one of the main reasons we left Nashua in the first place is that my commute was so horrendous, and I didn't get enough time with B. I'm trying not to obsess on these concerns, and instead to trust God/The Universe to provide me with the answer to the question, "What is the best thing to do?" I know what I want to do, but is that the best for my family?

So, that's why you haven't heard much out of me lately...lots of thinking going on. Lots of thinking.

And randomly, just a quick story about my sweet boy. This morning, he was having another of his cranky mornings (all too common lately). I mean, I have to admit, this kid was driving me nuts. I was really annoyed. But then he put on his cow rain boots and cheered right up. Now. His cow rain boots are basically too small, and he can only really put them on without socks. My thought was wearing those to daycare...on a warm, sunny day...was probably not our best move. So, instead, I brought out the new shoes we'd gotten him a few weeks ago for fall/winter. We put those on instead, and he was psyched to wear them (and I was psyched they weren't too big as I'd been fearing). So, as we got ready to head out the door, I squatted to help put his jacket on, and in his delighted state he came running over and tackled me with a hug and kisses. It's amazing, the lightning speed with which annoyance can disappear in the face of hugs and kisses from an almost two year old.

The boots in question

And just another cute shot from recently

Allo, Misoncia!

Renee Therese! We're cooowwwlink yah naaaaaame! Give a girl a holler, yo. (Well. Two girls.)

Funny Man

B was sick this weekend, which stinks. He had a really high fever on Saturday night, which is scary. But by yesterday, he was on the mend. He still had to stay home from daycare and go to the doctor (mainly to rule out strep), but overall, he was doing ok. I stayed home with him, which I can unabashedly admit is not a sacrifice whatsoever. We had a really fun day together. We watched his favorite movie (the only movie he watches) Wall-E, and we played low key games (he was still lower energy than usual) and we spent a lot of time giggling together. B is developing a really funny sense of humor. He can sense what makes me laugh, and he delights in doing whatever that is. And he loves to tease me. Like father, like son! It's so fascinating to watch this part of his personality develop. It's such a cool window into the person he's becoming. And I love having 1:1 time with him. It gives us a chance to bond in a really nice way.

Remembering

Today, I'm remembering people I never actually met. I'm remembering people like Sean Lugano and Welles Remy Crowther- whose stories I've heard only through their siblings- who lost their lives in the towers on 9/11 while attempting to help others get out safely. I'm also remembering the thousands of other people whose stories I don't know specifically, who lost their lives in heroic and horrific ways that day. And I'm remembering the emotional toll on those of us who didn't lose our lives, but our innocence.

And I'm thanking the people who continue to risk their lives to keep us safe from a horror like that repeating itself. If I started naming those people, this entry would get way too long, way too quickly. But you all know who you are, and I hope you know how much your hard work and sacrifices mean to the rest of us.

Not a Baby...

My little boy is growing up. He is definitely not a baby anymore. Just in the past couple of months, he's taken on more of a "little boy" appearance, dropping some of his baby fat (his cheeks are still magnificent, just slightly less in volume than they once were), stretching, maturing. He does everything at a run now. He seems to pick up a new word or phrase every day. And he definitely has a mind of his own. He knows what he wants, when and how. And he isn't shy about letting me know. There has been a great deal of "No, Mama!" or "No, Mommy!" recently (he's made the transition from Mama to Mommy in the past week or so).

I have a niece who will start second grade in a couple of weeks. I know how quickly B will be there. It happens in a blink. So, I'm trying to take in as much of this time as I can. I'm trying to be fully present in every moment I spend with him. I'm trying to remember all the hilarious and adorable things he says, so I can pull the memories out later on, when I need them. I always want to remember the way he says, "Mommy choo choo!" when I get on the train in the morning, or when he says "Ah lahluu," (I love you) on the phone. I want to remember the times when I'm tickling him and stop and he says, "Mo! Mo!" (More, more). I even want to remember when he says, "No, Mommy, do!" (Go), and gestures away from himself.

Even though we haven't had the easiest transition to toddlerhood (I guess we were spoiled by having such an easy going baby), I know I'll want to do this again at some point. Coming home at the end of the day is all the more satisfying when I get to come home to his smiling face, and when I get to hear his often not quite English yet stories about his day.

"Let's Plow..."

I don't think I'd given John Hughes a whole lot of thought any time recently. I mean, sure, I still stop flipping if I come across any of his mid-80's masterpieces on cable on a Saturday, and sure I still quote him on a somewhat regular basis. But I hadn't really taken any time to consider what his work meant to me. That is, until I got the email from my best friend yesterday afternoon that he'd passed away.

Even though he'd left Hollywood years ago and hadn't released anything new in many years, it still genuinely saddened me to hear of his passing. What he contributed to the lives of teenagers, mainly teenagers of my generation, but I firmly believe teenagers to come as well, cannot really be measured. He made us feel understood. He created characters we could relate to and characters we could fantasize about.

It's hard to describe the experience of being a 12 or 13 year old girl and wathing Pretty in Pink, Sixteen Candles or Some Kind of Wonderful. It's hard to describe the feeling of hope that would overcome me in the moments of those movies when the dreamy boy finally realizes he loves the girl. When I was a freshman in high school with an impossible crush on a wholly unattainable senior, I had the solace of Jake Ryan to get me through. See? It COULD happen. He COULD love me. You never know.

Beyond that, movies like The Breakfast Club highlighted the inanity of high school cliques and their inherently shallow nature. As someone who was always acutely aware of this, that made me feel like, "Someone GETS it!"

Countless happy nights from my youth had John Hughes movies at their centers. The night my sister put the Andee/Blaine kiss in the headlights of the BMW on slo-mo and said, "That. Is how you kiss. Memorize it." And I did. The countless nights my best friend and I would watch her worn out copy of Breakfast Club and argue over whether or not John Bender was attractive (she thought yes, I wasn't convinced).

This is really just the tip of the iceberg. I could go on all day. I could list hundreds of quotes. Suffice to say, there are so many of us whose lives were made more enjoyable by this man's work, and we'll miss him, and continue to treasure what he gave us.

Perspective

I think that, at least to some extent, it’s human nature to be a little self-centered. I mean, we’re each the center of our own universe, generally-speaking, right? So, whatever trials and tribulations we’re going through are the ones that really register with us. And there’s that old adage that, “Just because you lost a toe doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt if I stub mine.” And that’s true. Just because someone else’s hurt is “worse” doesn’t mean that ours doesn’t exist or isn’t valid, does it? Of course not.
That said, a nice dose of perspective is generally a good thing. It’s good to be reminded of our blessings, particularly the ones we might take for granted, or that we don’t show the appreciation we should.

For instance, I was reading the on line journal some friends of mine are keeping for their daughter, who was an ultra-premie and who is back in the hospital for some surgeries. I came across a guest book entry written by a friend of theirs who is also the mother of an ultra-premie. She mentioned how she will pray that their daughter is able to begin eating, and begin to enjoy eating. And she mentioned how so many other parents take that for granted, and that she hopes all the parents who read the journal take a moment to thank God for their healthy children. This really hit home with me today, since I’ve spent this week kind of stressing over my suddenly quite fresh and head strong 21 month old. It’s not that I take his health for granted, per se. I do think I’ve been frightened enough by his hospital visits to feel truly appreciative of every healthy day he has. But it did get me thinking that, in the grand scheme of things, a little freshness isn’t really something to get worked up over. I mean…sure, it kind of blows when he wants nothing to do with me. And yea, each of his shouts of, “NO, MAMA!” generally accompanied by a “go away” hand gesture, breaks my heart a little bit. But the fact is, he’s a healthy, smart little boy who is developing well enough to GET that he wants nothing to do with Mommy right now, and that Mommy is the disciplinarian and therefore, the Ruiner of Fun. And really…there are worse things than that.

As I’m writing this entry, my sister has just called to tell me she just spotted a new molar in B’s mouth, too. So, in terms of the boy’s being a tad cantankerous, this goes a long way toward explanation. See? There’s always a reason.

It really is so important to keep a sense of perspective. Loss of perspective is also why I’ve spent my entire week playing referee to a group of adults (here at work). Let’s just all take a moment to appreciate our blessings, if we haven’t yet today.

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Work in Progress

I think I may have used this title previously, but whatever, it's still true.

The return to work after my vacation a few weeks ago was a really tough one. Like...near constant panic attacks and several consecutive nights of insomnia rough. My breaking point came last Friday, when I was working from home and thankfully, my mom was home to keep me from a complete break down. She finally agreed that my job probably makes me more miserable than it's really worth. It's just always reassuring to get that kind of affirmation from your mom, you know?

So, this Saturday, I'm going to take the first part of the MTEL. It's just the first part, so I'll have more tests to take, and I'll have a certification to get at some point. But what it comes down to is that teaching is the job I've been missing for the better part of 10 years now, and I am ready to head back to it.

I know this isn't the most thrilling entry I've ever written, but that's what's up around these parts.

Oh, hello...

It's been a while, huh? I haven't had much to say lately. I've been in kind of a weird head space. It's not really worth getting into now, because I'm coming out of it. But the fact that I'm on vacation this week is definitely a blessing.

I never thought I could love vacations more than I already did, but I do. No, I don't sleep in like I used to (B gets up at 5:30-ish every day), and no I don't spend as much time partying it up on vacations as I used to, but I cherish my vacations in a way I never thought to before. Having consecutive days to hang with B is about the greatest thing ever. E had to work a couple days this week, but tomorrow, he joins the vacation train, and I'm so excited!

Today, B and I went to visit some friends who live near the beach where my family spent summers when I was growing up. It's about my favorite place in the world, and it was the coolest thing to be there with B. One of my friends said she'd love to have a group of people rent a house down there, and just the thought of that delighted me. To be in that place with my family AND my friends?! Whoa. Bliss overload.

Anyway. That's more or less what's on my mind tonight. It's not sexy, but it's my mind.

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Yea, I'm Braggin'. What of it?

I am a truly lucky woman. I am blessed in so many ways. I have B, whose charms I've written of extensively. And I also have B's daddy. E is everything I could ever have dreamed of in a husband and then some. He is, in so many ways, my perfect complement. He is supportive of me in all ways and all things. And that isn't always an easy feat. He is the person I can count on to talk me down when I'm spinning. He is the person I can count on any time of the day or night. And as a stress-induced insomniac, that's really key. He is sweet and kind an intelligent. He has more integrity than anyone else I know. In case I haven't said it often enough, thank you, E. You rock my world.

Fifteen Years

I actually wrote this post a couple weeks ago and never posted it. Oops!

At the risk of outing myself as old (as if any of you reading this don't know precisely how old I am), fifteen years ago this month, I graduated from high school. And the funny thing about living in my hometown right now is that it really highlights the fact that I may strike a passing resemblance to that girl who graduated FHS in June, 1994, but by and large, she's gone.


At the time I graduated high school, I was a chubby, shy, sheltered girl whose previous two and a half years had been defined by thyroid disease. I was terrified of college, as much as I was excited for it. I was terrified of boys even more. (Yes, yes. Have a good laugh. L afraid of boys?! PREPOSTEROUS. BWAHAHAHAAAA. I'm a married lady now, thankyouverymuch.) I was generally terrified of life.


I remember that time so vividly, though. I remember driving around, listening to music and dreaming of what my life was going to be like, now that I'd finally done my time. I remember the simultaneous thrill and fear at the prospect of heading off to Amherst, and a school full of thousands of strangers.


My college orientation was also 15 years ago this month. UMass staggers orientation throughout the summer, and ours was early in the season. Right from the get-go, I knew college was going to be a whole different world. I remember forcing myself to talk to people, because I figured we were pretty much all in the same boat, in terms of not knowing many people, and I figured it was better to make myself talk to people than to sit in a corner not talking to anyone. I was right.

It's fun to look back on those two events now, knowing how dramatically my life changed that summer. The transition from high school to college was, for me, a phenomenal one. Going to such a big school was precisely the right choice for me. I needed that experience and all that I learned about life there.

Rough & TUMBLE

B did a face plant yesterday at daycare. Literally, he fell on his face on the hard top of the playground. He's got a brutal raspberry all the way down his nose, plus an egg on his forehead, and he had a bloody nose when it happened, too. But my little ruffian is really pretty unfazed by the whole thing. Occasionally, he'll hit the skin of his nose with his hand or something and remember it's sore and look at me kind of like, "Oh, ow." But on the whole, he clearly doesn't mind the falling down.

And of course, I know this is just the first (and probably mildest) of many, many injuries he's likely to endure. By B's age, my youngest brother had already had stitches once. And Be reminds me of him, as a toddler - same sturdy build, same blonde hair, same contagious smile, and same need for speed. It didn't really freak me out the way I thought it would, seeing his little face all scraped up. Maybe it's because I have three brothers and spent two years teaching a bunch of hellion boys, so I guess I kind of knew what I was getting into. But really, so far, it's more a feeling of awe that I have, that he's growing up so fast. (Talk to me after his next injury - I'm sure my facade of coolness and calm will have vanished.)

But seriously, little boys get cuts and scrapes. This is not to say that little girls don't - they certainly do. But looking back on myself and my four siblings, it does seem the boys got to a different level, with their cuts and scrapes. So, what this face plant indicates, I think, is that my baby has officially become a little boy.

Little Man

So, as I've already said here, work has been stressful lately. Not in any unusual way, really, just busy and harried and stressy. One of the things (among the many) that I'm working on is to be better about leaving work at work. I tend to be a sensitive and highly stressed person (also something I'm working on in a more general sense) and as a result, I often end up stressing at night and over weekends about stuff that's going on at work. It's a ridiculous thing to do, and I know it. But I've been in one stressful role after another, often with bosses who couldn't let go, and as a result, I've developed this bad habit.

But one thing that has made and continues to make it easier to forget work when I'm not here is B. What better way is there to forget your troubles than to come home to a smiling little menace who lunges at you joyfully and demands your full attention for the entire time he's in your presence? It is such a wonderful thing to just let go of whatever petty stress I feel, in favor of watching B tear around the house, running and climbing with exuberance and joy. When he lunges at me for an aggressively affectionate hug or kiss, my troubles melt away.

When I wake up in the morning and psyche myself up for the day by thinking about the things in my life that make me feel happy and grateful, my boys always top the list. Picturing B's smiling little face and hilarious run-walk make it possible to get out of bed on those days when, otherwise, I might want to just stay there.

Fighting

Today just wasn't a great day. I mean, it actually wasn't a terrible day, in and of itself, but for whatever reason, the stress of it just sent me into a complete funk that I've been having a really hard time shaking. I hate that!

Again, I know everything is going to be fine. I know everything is going to settle down and come together. I know it. But the waiting...it gets hard sometimes. Patience has never been a great strong suit of mine. And for instance, when it comes to work, I deserve better than I'm getting. I do. And I know it's headed my way. I have faith in that. But that doesn't mean I never have a bad day. I have to just not let it get to me.

TT the Bear's

I love Pandora. It's really such a genius invention. If you've never used it, go to pandora.com pronto and get started. Today, my stations seem to be in cahoots to all play songs by artists I used to go to see frequently when I was a young, single girl living in the city and going to rock shows several nights a week. (On the off chance that anyone reading this is like, "HUH?!" about the title of this post, TT the Bear's is one of my favorite live music venues in Cambridge.) It's really genuinely strange. We've had Dresden Dolls, followed by Sheila Divine, followed by Hey, Mercedes, followed by Get Up Kids. And I mean, it's not that these bands are like SUPER obscure, but let's face it, they're not necessarily the most commonly played artists around, and for them to come on, even on Pandora, in that precise order, is...unusual. I'm suddenly really nostaligic for 2003. I really want to hit up TT's or The Middle East for a rock show that is as likely to be an enormous, loud disappointment as a genuinely good show (It's a 50/50 shot, a lot of times). Ahhh, good times.

Happy Birthday

Today is my sister's younger daughter's second birthday. This is unbelievable. It seems like just a blink ago that we were at the hospital visiting when she was born. She's a feisty little gal, and a hilarious one. She brings life to any party. And her unique pronunciations never cease to delight (her favorite drink is "lenomaaaaaade.") Happy Birthday, Miss!

Stress

I have problems with stress. Always have. I'm constantly working on it. Constantly working on how better to process stress, how better to look at things positively, how better to live in a state other than anxiety. And overall, I'm making progress, but the fact remains that I'm a work IN progress, so occasionally, I still have flare ups. And today was a pretty stressful day. Nothing I can't handle, but there was a lot going on. B had to have an ultra-sound on his belly (turns out he has a viral infection that has caused his spleen to swell slightly - not expected to be a big deal), and there was some stuff at work that was stressful. And when there's a confluence like that, it's hard. I know everything is going to turn out just fine. I know it is. But that doesn't make it less stressful, as much as I might wish it did.

Mother's Day

I am so grateful to be a mom. While I think it's so nice that there is a day set aside each year to show our appreciation for our mothers, for me, it's also an opportunity to appreciate how lucky I am to be a mother. I've written repeatedly here about how my son was unexpected. If I'd been able to plan it, who knows if I'd be a mother yet. But that's why the unexpected things in life are often the best things. My greatest blessing was a complete surprise. And I'm so grateful for him. Even today, when he had a super grumpy morning and gave me a really hard time about everything I tried to get done, I'm so grateful for him. He has given me a sense of purpose in life that I cherish. He has given me a kind of love I never knew I could feel. He has made me comfortable with myself in a way I've never been before.

This morning, we were running early for school, so we took a few minutes to read some stories, and while he sat on my lap, turning pages and pointing to "CAH" (cars) and "DAH" (dogs) and "BA-BALLS" (basketballs and baseballs), I took a moment to just soak in the pleasure of sitting with him, looking at books. Such a simple moment, but that's all it took to turn my mood around.

This afternoon, he had a check up at the doctor. The doctor has determined that he should go in for an ultra-sound, because he felt something in his belly that could potentially be an enlarged spleen. He doesn't think that's what it is (he thinks it's probably nothing) but feels like we should rule it out. I am absolutely positive that B is fine. I'm pretty sure I'd know if something were up. But shit like this is still so terrifying, because if it were something, I hope I'd be able to handle myself like an adult. I'm not entirely sure I would. I hope I won't have to find out.

It's a roller coaster. I've never been much of a fan of roller coasters in general, but this ride is one I'm all in for.

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Summer Is X-tremely Fun

The older I get, the more I realize how much I really love summer. Granted, I prefer to live in a house with central air, because I'm pretty sensitive to temperature, and because heat exascerbates insomnia. But I tend to be a happier person in the summer months. When I look back at my favorite memories, aside from the many, many Christmas-related ones, the majority involve being outside, in the sunshine, usually in the summer.

Five years ago, heading into summer, my gaggle of girlfriends in Boston all decided we should embark on "The Summer of X-treme Fun" or "SOX Fun" for short (a play on words, since we're all obviously huge Red Sox fans). And at the time I was living that summer, I think I did consciously realize that it was a very fun summer, but because I was enduring the end of a bad relationship, its final demise and the immediate aftermath of that, I don't know that I fully appreciated it the way I can now, with the distance of years and the insulation of a good relationship (no better way to really highlight the bad than to compare it to the good that came after).

That summer began with a trip to Nantucket for my friend's 30th birthday. We went Memorial Day weekend, or FIGAWI weekend, as it's known. For the unititated, Figawi is an annual regatta on Nantucket, known for its chaotic nature (The name originated from the saying, "Where the figawi?"). On the way to the island, my then roommate and I flew on a 9 passenger plane with Tom Brady and his then girlfriend, Bridget Moynahan. This was 2004, so Tom was obviously at the absolute pinnacle of his cache. So...pretty cool way to kick off a summer of x-treme fun.

And we continued to have an absolute blast all summer long. We drank wine on my friend's "roof deck" (In Beacon Hill, pretty much any roof you can access is referred to as a "roof deck."). We searched out cute boys (for several of us, it was our last summer as single girls before getting together with the men we'd eventually marry). We walked the esplanade and occasionally enjoyed free concerts at the Hatch Shell.

Additionally, that summer, I had one of the most fun vacations I've ever had. Two of my friends got married up in Bar Harbor, Maine, and a group of us spent the week prior to the wedding up there. We hiked (and I conquered a fear of heights by doing a hike I'm told is notoriously terrifying to heights fearers), we swam in a resevoir (conquering another fear of mine, of dark water), we played bocce at one of the coolest outdoor bars I've ever been to, and we just generally enjoyed time with our friends.

That summer also marked my first trip out to the Hamptons. My sister in law threw a surprise 35th birthday party for my brother. We all went down and had our first (of many) beach clambake. It was a truly phenomenal weekend of perfect weather and family partying.

I've always loved summer, but I really think that, as far as my adult life goes, that summer was the one that put it over the top. Since then, I get more excited as summer approaches. Now I know the endless possibilities. It's not that I want to go back to that time in my life. You couldn't pay me enough to do that. But I remember with such fondness the various adventures and shenanigans, and I appreciate the things I learned about myself that summer - both inwardly and outwardly.

Progress

There's always a learning curve when you start a new job. But for some reason, the job I'm in right now, that learning curve has been...well, it's taken a LOT longer than any other job I've ever had. But lately, I've finally felt like I'm making some breakthroughs. I finally feel assured of myself, in a way I haven't before. I think part of the reason for this is that I was, frankly, kind of traumatized by my last job. I was so beaten down by the end of my time in that job that I had really lost all the confidence I'd gained in my years with the company. And it's taken this long to get that back. Add to that the fact that I started this job when I was pregnant (not, generally, the most productive time, career-wise) and then I missed a chunk of time for maternity leave, and it just took a long time to hit a stride. This week, we're dealing with a lot of stuff that's pretty stressful. It's the first time I've been in this situation that I haven't been in a perpetual state of panic. I'm starting to trust myself, my intelligence, my judgment. Thank God. I don't think I could have lived that way much longer.

Autism Awareness Day

Today is the second annual World Autism Awareness Day. As such, I want to do my part to help increase awareness. Read about autism. Learn about autism. And let's find a way to eliminate autism.

Moving On

Our condo is finally officially on the market. It took a long time, and a lot of hard work, but it's listed. I feel really optimistic that it will sell quickly and for a pretty good price (all things considered). I think the condo has become, to us, symbolic of something holding us back from the life we want...since the life we want is here in MA and the condo is in NH. So, just having it on the market is a big symbolic step, in addition to being a big literal step. At the very least, it'll be a huge relief not to have to go up there every weekend to work on it. Our part is done. It's staged and vacated - now, the realtor can show the heck out of it until it sells. Yippee!

Introspection

I've been doing a lot of soul searching lately. I've been thinking a lot about the important things in life and how to live it in a satisfying and meaningful way. I've been thinking about "living your bliss" as it were. So, what's my bliss?

As I said in my last post, a huge part of my bliss is B. When I think of him smiling or giggling, or snuggling up to me and playing with my hair, or talking, or walking, or a million other little things he does, the feeling that comes over me is a truly pure joy. When he's sitting on my lap, enjoying his before bed bottle, sometimes he'll reach his little hand up to touch the hair on the back of my head. He'll stroke it very gently (which is big - "gentle" is not the word I would generally use to describe B's approach to...anything), and look up at me contentedly. In those moments, life is as good as it gets.

As I've said many other times, a big part of my bliss is writing. I genuinely enjoy the process of choosing words and turns of phrase, of creating characters and writing dialogue for them. I know I've created a good character when that character sticks with me beyond the writing process. If I find myself spacing out in the middle of a work day, imagining what might happen next to a character, I know I'm onto something. And the same goes for enjoying other people's writing. When I find a book or an author I enjoy, there is such joy in that, it can permeate my entire life.

Another part of my bliss is talking to my friends and family, giving advice where I can, getting it where I can. I'm a social creature. That might sound odd, because I'm kind of shy, but it's true. I crave social interaction. Whether it's with family or friends, there is little in life I enjoy more than a good conversation. It can be about any topic - relationships, politics, whatever. And on the occasions that I find some nugget of...usefulness...to pass along, I feel like I'm contributing to the world in my small way.

Yet another part of my bliss is simple times in the sunshine with my boys. The simple act of taking a walk with them, or going to a playground, or just sitting in the back yard - any of these things - offers me more enjoyment than I could have imagined not so long ago. Watching B explore the outdoors with his dad following behind him, puts an immediate and lasting smile on my face.

So, the one area of my life that isn't really included in this list is my profession. I mean, obviously writing is the profession I seek in the long term, but right now, I'm not yet making a living at it. So, I want to at least find a profession that offers me, if not actual joy, at least some sort of satisfaction. I want to finish a work day and feel good about what I've done that day. It's been a really long time since I've felt that, and I really want to find my way back to it.

Happiness Is a Blonde Toddler

It's kind of tricky when you decide to undertake an overhaul of your entire way of thinking to make it more positive, and just days in, someone you care about passes away too soon. But I'm trying to keep on the positive train, largely because I feel like it's about all I can do that might be in some way helpful, you know?


So, at the risk of sounding like one of those flakes on a TV show, spouting off about The Secret, I'm going to...spout off about The Secret. Here's the thing. Living your life from a positive place does, in fact, feel better. And at least I can send positive thoughts to a family in pain and hope it offers some measure of comfort.


One tenet of The Secret's positive thought is visualizing happy images to make yourself feel more positive. My happy image is, of course, B. I visualize the way he looks when he sleeps, or when he giggles, or when he's snoozing on my shoulder - his blonde curls, his smile, his big, grey eyes. And it really is amazing how quickly thinking of him can improve my mood. I have a picture as my desktop background that can turn my mood around in a heartbeat. I'll show you:




Admit it. You feel slightly happier now, don't you?

Remembering

My sister in law to be and her family are spending today making funeral arrangements for their father. How unfair. Fifty three is too young to die. Luckily, having him as a dad at all was such a blessing that I have the utmost faith they'll be just fine.

He was a force of nature - the kind of person who owned a room the moment he entered it. This, combined with his supreme friendliness and generosity are among the qualities that made him hugely successful in his business, as well as very, very popular in his personal life. The family home was always full of people, even while he was ill.

Such an enormous number of people will miss him, and will cherish their memories of him. I count myself as genuinely lucky to have known him. He is someone who taught me a lot about life and how to live it in the few years I knew him.

A story, in parting, to sum up the kind of guy he was. A couple of weeks ago, while he was gravely ill and at MGH, my sister and I went over to visit and to take the girls out to lunch. On my way there, I stopped and picked up a little stuffed puppy for him, because I knew he had a soft spot for puppies. When I got to his room with the gift bag in my hand, I asked him how he was doing that day. He eyed the bag in my hands and said, "I'm a puppy away from being happy." I said, "Will a stuffed puppy do?" He thought it would do just fine, and said to his wife, "I told you I was getting a puppy," smirking away. No matter how ill he was, no matter how grave the prognosis, he could always find something to smirk about - some way to have some impish fun. I admired that quality from the first, and it'll be among the things I'll remember.

Tired

I'm tired of writing posts like these. Yet another family I love is suffering through the turmoil of losing someone to cancer. You've probably picked that up from my last few posts. My brother's fiance's father has fought a very tough seven month battle against colon cancer, and it looks like the cancer is winning. His once bullish doctors have prepared the family for the end. And it's just so unfair and brutal and miserable. I want never to write a post like this again. I want no one I know ever to be touched by this insidious and evil disease ever again.

In the meantime, please pray for this family, and for this man, who has been an absolute beacon of positivity even as his body has not responded in the ways he's wished.
+++++

Update: Literally minutes after I originally posted this, my brother called to say his father in law to be had passed away. I'll write a more complete post later.

Attitude Is Everything

I had a kind of stressy day at work. Nothing I can't handle, and it's all under control now, but stressy days are...you know, stressy. But about halfway through the day, I kind of went, "Wait a minute. I'm not helping myself by stressing and obsessing." So, I relaxed, I breathed, I brainstormed. And by the end of the day, things had improved by a lot. And I had an ally. Which always helps, am I right? I'm really learning how much a positive attitude and positive thinking really can turn your day (or whatever span of time you're dealing with) around. It's truly and amazingly transformative.

But, still. Eff cancer. I don't have anything positive to say about cancer today. Or ever.

Fighting It

On Friday, the guy who sat diagonally behind me got laid off. He was a guy who drove me up the wall. In fact, so afraid was I that my old position was going to start reporting to him (which it did), that I changed jobs, taking my current position. But once I no longer had to work with him quite so directly, he kind of started to grow on me, and so I was bummed for him on Friday. I don't know exactly why, but somehow in my head, it became a "him or me" thing, in terms of who would get cut. I just had a feeling one or the other of us would - I guess because, of my boss' direct reports, we seemed the two most likely to be on the chopping block, based on our job functions. I had kind of come to a place of peace with being laid off by the end of last week, so of course, I didn't get laid off. That Murphy is a trickster, indeed.

This weekend, we were up in Nashua with my in-laws, working on the condo. And it's so funny - that place has such a weird effect on my psyche. I felt SO positive about life in general last week, and then I got up there on Friday and my positivity took a nose dive almost immediately. I had to fight tooth and nail all weekend not to succumb to the darkness that so often swallows me up in that house. It's just the strangest thing, because as any of you who've been there know, it's a perfectly pleasant place. So, I think whatever my issue is with it, it's just some kind of internal/psychological thing. But I am really looking forward to our finding a home that the three of us can all feel happy about, together - that we can make our own together. Not that we didn't do that with the condo, but I don't think I ever allowed myself to feel real affection for it, for whatever reason. Totally unfair of me, admittedly, but it is what it is, and I'm looking forward to finding our family home.

Open Mind for a Different View...that one's for you, E

Lately, I've been ensconced in the most extended negative wallow I've indulged in in a long time. I think it's probably fairly understandable, since there's been a fair amount of stress, and a few sad things going on around me. I've always been kind of hypersensitive to that sort of stuff. It's very hard for me not to get bogged down by bad or sad things going on around me. And I kind of treasure that empathy. I like that I care as much as I do. But at some point, I do have to allow myself a little self preservation and not allow those things to swallow me up.

As such, I'm at a point now where I really just need to find a way to stay positive in the face of difficult times (the economy kind of directly effects my work environment) and sad times (eff cancer, y'all) and times of waiting (selling a condo in a tanking market is a GREAT time!). It can be a challenge, but life is a learning process, right? I can only take so much of the sad. And that's how I've been feeling. Sad. I've been a walking sad sack. And I can't take it anymore. And if there's one thing I know for certain, it's that if you want your life to change, only YOU can change it. So...I'm changing it. Again.

I just got to the end of my rope, waiting for something to come along to magically flip a switch and make things better. I remembered what I already knew - that part is up to me. If I want something to come along to make it better, I have to focus and find that something. I can do that. I've done it before.

I started small, just deciding yesterday to have a good day at work. (Actually, that's no small feat, lately.) And you know what? I had a great day at work. It was the best day I've had at work in a long time. So, that's something. Then, this morning, when B was throwing tantrums left and right (it's such fun when they figure out how to throw tantrums and decide to test it out constantly), I decided not to let it put me in a bad mood. It didn't. And when I dropped him at daycare, I felt a lot less guilty than I would've if I'd been grumped out with him.

Baby steps, you know? Are there still tough economic times going on? Yes. Are there still too many people around me suffering from cancer? Yes. And is that still making people I love horribly sad, and are those two things brutally unfair? Yes. And is it infuriating that there's nothing I can do to change any of this? Undoubtedly. But I can't. All I can do is figure out a way to live my life as fully as I can each day I have, and to love my husband and son with everything I have, and in fact to love everyone in my life as fully as I can. So, that' s my plan. In addition to all the sadness and pain in the world, there is happiness and magic, and I'm going to focus on that as much as I can. And I'm going to try my best to spread that sunshine and magic and love to the people who matter to me. And if you think that's corny, you can just bite me, m'kay?

Crisis of Faith?

So, yea. Last Tuesday was a rough day. I can't really go into the details, because it's not my story to tell, but suffice to say that people I love are in pain, and there is nothing I can do about it, and it's such an infuriatingly futile feeling to have. Maybe that's a terribly egocentric way to look at it, but it's how I feel.

So many people I love are in kind of a down cycle right now. I mean, not entirely - there are amazing and wonderful things happnening around us every day - there are babies being born and tiny ones growing stronger, and there are love stories happening and friendships flourishing, and all manner of good things. But on a very elemental level, there are a lot of people in my life going through some difficult stuff, whether it's personal, professional, financial, or some combination of the three. And it makes me wonder why it is that this is all happening at once. There must be some greater meaning to it, mustn't there? I don't believe God is totally random in tossing gauntlets. I'm sure there are those who would argue that that's just my naive way of comforting myself, but nevertheless, it's what I believe. I believe there is greater meaning out there. But sometimes, it's really hard to find, as it is now.

There are so many cliches about stuff like this: It's always darkest before the dawn; whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger; God works in mysterious ways...I hope all of these are true. I really do. I'm all for learning, but I mean, at some point, the effing lesson's gotta END, right?

Needing a Little Magic

I believe in magic. I believe that miracles happen every day. I believe that happy endings happen every day. I believe that faith can bring good things. I believe that prayer can move mountains. I believe that love heals all wounds. I believe it ain't over till it's over. I believe you have got to believe and fight and keep believing and fighting until you get what you want, what you need, what you're praying your heart out for.

I believe these things. I believe them with all my heart. I have to believe. I have to believe there is something to believe in.

Spinning Wheels and Ticking Clocks

Wow, it's been a while, huh?

So, as anyone not living under a rock knows, we're in tough economic times. My company has been having rounds of layoffs every few weeks and that obviously sucks. Many other companies are having layoffs, too, and in fact, a friend of mine got laid off from her job a couple of hours ago. It's just a rough time to work in the financial industry...which the majority of metro-Boston does.

I was talking to my brother last week, and he actually AGREED (I know! I dind't see it coming either!) that the biggest positive of Obama being elected is that so many people feel POSITIVE about him. And a lot of us really need something to feel positive about.

I go to work pretty consistently with a knot in my stomach because I am fully aware that as an individual contributor with a flexible work arrangement, I'm vulnerable as hell. I mean, I'm also the most underpaid person in my group, so it would be rather a stupid move to cut me, but...that doesn't mean it won't happen.

After days like yesterday, I almost think it would be a blessing in disguise. Yesterday, we had a group meeting during which a woman I work with verbally attacked me (Y'all know I'm prone to dramatics, but I swear I'm not exaggerating) over something completely false. Luckily, my boss knew it was false, so after allowing her to publicly berate me for a minute or two, he told her to let it go. But, like I said, that was after a couple of minutes of her literally yelling at me and snickering under her breath when I spoke up to defend myself. The thing is, my former boss yelled at me daily. I've got a fairly thick skin about that. But when someone calls me out, in front of my colleagues, about something that isn't even true? Oh, HELL no. It was honestly the most unprofessional behavior I've ever seen and I say that as someone whose former boss routinely used the word motherf*$&er in the work place.

When things like that happen, it just makes me realize anew how much I would rather being doing something else. I want my career to be writing books. That's what I want. But between being overworked (I had to leave at 5:00 last night because B wasn't feeling well, and so ended up working at home until 9:00) and having B, and trying to fix up and sell our condo, etc etc, there isn't a lot of time left over to write. So, then I think to myself that maybe if I got laid off, I could focus more on writing. Maybe I'm just rationalizing, preparing myself in case I get cut. Maybe it wouldn't work at all, since obviously we would need to pull B out of daycare. But it's a nice thing to fantasize about when a coworker proves herself unable to treat me with common courtesy and professional respect, on top of an already stressy and miserable working environment.

Sigh...And I'd been having such a great couple weeks. My birthday was fantabulous, we had a fun trip up to VT this past weekend, lots of fun family time in general...

A Thought

Just a brief thought on his amazing, historic day. How utterly cool is it that my 15 month old will never remember a time when the idea of a black president seemed an impossible dream? The answer? Very, utterly cool.

Another Admission...heh

Over my Christmas vacation, I took the opportunity to do some pleasure reading. In the week I had off, I read Stephenie Meyer's enormously popular Twilight series. Age-wise, I outpace the target demographic for these books by up to 20 years, but I, er, really liked them. I mean, I REALLY liked them. As is probably pretty clear to y'all by now, I'm KIND of a romantic. Lil bit. A well written love story is among my favorite things - it's the literary equivalent of a warm blanket on a cold day. I'm not particularly snobby about who writes the love story - some of my favorites are by Jane Austen, some technically fall into the romance category. As long as the story is well written and the characters are engaging and developed, I'm hooked. And Stephenie Meyer writes well, and her characters are so vividly imagined that it drew me in from page 1.

Once I tore threw that entire four book series in a matter of days, I decided to tackle her new novel, The Host. It's a very different book from the vampire series, but it shares a sensibility, in that the characters are people you want to root for, and the world she creates is so vividly imagined and told. I admire this quality - her imagination is a remarkable thing. It would be such a fun and satisfying thing, I think, to create an entire world in a novel, and then to create from thin air all the details of that world and its inhabitants. I started reading Meyer's work because I was kind of curious about what the fuss was all about. Suffice to say, I get it now. I don't say that in an effort to get people to read the books, because literature is so entirely subjective that there is never any guarantee that what appeals to me will appeal to other people, but when I find an author whose work I really enjoy, I am kind of compulsive in my need to share that with other people. Maybe it's the writer in me, that I understand the craving for people to read and enjoy what you're putting out there, but whatever it is, it's my instinct. And this lady is a good storyteller whose books I've thoroughly enjoyed.

Birthdays

This week, I'll turn 33. THIRTY THREE! Holy crap. Thirty three, like Larry Bird or Jason Varitek. Only an age, not a uniform number.

The week of my birthday always makes me kind of introspective. I guess that's probably pretty common. I think about my past birthdays and what is different this year. And I always think about the birthday ten years before, too. I don't know why, but looking at my life that way is kind of interesting to me.

The week of my 23rd birthday was a really fun, active, interesting week for me. Among the things I remember about that week - I went to a strip club for the first time, I spent my birthday at an outdoor bar for the first time (I was living in Atlanta), I made two friends - one who is still in my life and one who is not.

In particular, I remember that it was unseasonably warm, even for Atlanta, that January. It was up in the 60's and even low 70's several days, including my birthday. My friends and I went to the Dunwoody Tavern (which, unbenknownst to me then would become my second workplace...and the most fun workplace I've ever had) and sat on the patio for beers...and birthday shots. I thought that was about the coolest thing ever, because having grown up in Massachusetts, a scenario like that for my birthday was practically unimaginable. It was one of my favorite birthdays ever, even still...and I've had some SERIOUSLY good birthdays.

Last year, my birthday was the day before I returned to work from maternity leave. This was NOT one of my favorite birthdays. I was so terrified of leaving B, and so miserable at the thought of returning to my job. It all turned out all right, of course. I probably should've just relaxed.

This year, I'm hoping for a good year. Thirty two was great in a lot of ways, but it was a hard year. I was working through a lot of "stuff." And I feel now like I'm ready to apply some of what I learned this past year, so I hope I get to.

A Year

Yesterday marked one year since my first blog post here. It's been a fast year, and a long year, simultaneously. But having this blog as an outlet for my thoughts and my words has been really satisfying and therapeutic. So, to those of you who have offered support by reading and sharing your thoughts, too, thanks! Here's to year #2!

Remembrance

Today, my sister in law had to attend her brother's funeral. I mean, not alone; she is the youngest of five, and her whole family (and some of mine) were there, too, obviously. But it's my sister in law in particular I'm thinking of at the moment. I have three brothers, and they are three of the most amazing people I know. Perhaps I'm biased, but this is my blog, so I can make such assertions unquestioned if I like. And I do. Anyway, my point is, I just can't imagine the infinite sadness I would feel to lose one of my brothers. It would be so truly awful. (I...can't even get into the hypothetical of losing my sister, here. I honestly think I'd have a panic attack at the mere contemplation. So.) My brothers are sources of intellectual challenge, of humor, of support and of humility (they willingly knock me down a few pegs if I need it). Each of them fills a different place in my heart, and then there are places they share. I need all three of them to make me who I am. So, with that in mind, I send so much love and prayer to my sister in law and her family, who have lost one of their brothers. That is a sad thing.

And her brother was a wonderful, smart, intensely positive man. I only met him a few times, but you didn't need to spend long in his presence to ascertain what a genuinely sunny person he was. Terminally ill and in perpetual pain, I don't know that I ever saw him without a friendly smile on his face. He was one of those people who really puts life into perspective for everyone around him. You think to yourself, "Well, shit. If he's smiling, I'd better quit wallowing in my petty dramas and smile back!" What a gift. He will be missed and remembered, always.