Thoughts from a life

Hello, old friend

2012-02-09T15:24:00.000-05:00

I've been fortunate this year (and other years, as well) to get lots of support through the month of February, where two of the hardest days of the year fall. Ben's "Anniversary", as we have come to call it around here, is next week. His Birthday falls exactly seven days after.

I've had a lot of friends looking out for me this year, asking me how things are, how I'm feeling, how I'm doing, and truthfully, I think this year might be an okay one. I can't tell if I'm just handling the upcoming dates okay, or if I'm just numb. Certainly the mild winter is helping...being able to go outside in the sun in February to play ball with Toast in the yard is a luxury I don't get often enough.

I'm just riding through this month, hoping to make it through to the end, as I always do. Christmas was so very very hard this year...maybe I can make it through the anniversaries as well.

***

I keep saying this, but I miss blogging. Every time I feel I have something to say, though, I am not sure it's something the world needs to hear. I think I need to just get on here and write. Write what I want to. Stop trying to write for other people.

***

Currently working on: some vintage pillowcases. I made a lovely discovery (long story) of some pillow tubing with cross-stitch patterns on the edges. I'm really enjoying working on them in the evenings while I watch TV. It's a nice break from the knitting, and I'm REALLY excited to wash them up and put them on our pillows, just for a little change. Typing that made me long for the first spring day when I can open the windows and let the fresh air in. This winter has been mild, but not that mild.

My scrapbooking weekend is approaching fast, and I"m worried I wont' have enough to scrapbook. Not that I'm currently "caught up", just that I feel like I haven't taken a lot of pictures lately. I'm always so worried about having an equal number of pictures of Jam, so he has a scrapbook equal in size and scope to Toast and Tiny Man's. It doesn't help when people in my life remind me that the youngest child always seems to get the short end of the memory-keeping stick. Just gotta keep plugging away. :) Maybe I'll make a point to be camera-mom for the next few weeks and bulk up the iPhoto files.

2012-01-27T15:08:00.004-05:00

I had a friend ask me today how I was doing at this time of the year, seeing as Tiny Man's anniversary and his birthday are approaching at an alarming rate. This is what I told her:

***

To be totally honest with you, I don't know. I really don't.

Christmas this year was REALLY hard. Like, every year Christmas gets harder and I can't make it better. The anniversaries were always hard, but I didn't expect Christmas to be as hard as it is. I have a lot of trouble being "in the spirit" when I spend so much time wishing he was with me.

This is the first year that his birthday and his anniversary will fall in the middle of the week (Tuesdays, to be exact). Sometimes I wish they weren't so close together. Sometimes I'm so thankful they are I want to fall on my knees. I feel like I'm allowed a breakdown once a year, then I get up and move on.

I have come to realize that for some people the grief of losing someone evolves. I think most of our family is like that. They still think of him (I hope), and we still talk about him (my parents and I do, anyway). I can still talk about him with my friends, and they are just so awesome at helping me remember. For me, though, the grief doesn't change. It Ebbs and flows, sometimes it's barely there, and I'm thinking of all the good things and laughing. Sometimes I feel like he died five minutes ago and I'm still leaning over him keening in agony. There is "in-between" but there is no relief.

I'm able to keep this hidden, the fact that sometimes I'm still in so much pain. I know it shouldn't matter what others think, but as time goes on I share my story less and less....it's so tiring to explain, so try and make people understand, to share these last little bits I have left. And I want to share and I feel like no one is listening. And I'm talking to much and making them uncomfortable.

***

This year it will be four years. I'm still waiting for February to not hold such weight, such significance in my life. I create rituals that help me get through. I find myself looking at the valentine crafts on blogs and Pinterest, trying to break out of this sinking feeling I have about February. In the end, I just give in and let it overtake me. I'm not sure when it gets easier, but it must. It must, right?

2011-10-28T07:21:00.001-05:00

I really like holidays. I do. But I also suffer from a little issue where holidays are concerned: fatigue. My fatigue, however, has nothing to do with the constant onslaught of decor, music, and commercials in the stores. Mine is a bit more insidious: it's entirely of my own making. I suffer from high expectations, and lack of time.

This Halloween I decided to make three costumes....Toast's, mine, and Hubby's. I didn't actually begin this process until this week (procrastination!), but figured I'd still be able to get them done in plenty of time. The problem is, as I'm completing them I sit and think to myself "now this? No one is going to think this is clever, or funny. What's the point, really?" Then everything really starts to go downhill and I start to second guess myself, my choices, and the whole holiday. Why don't I just stay in the house and watch movies for the evening?

Inevitably, some event arises that necessitates my attendance somewhere, usually smack in the middle of the plans that are failing so splendidly around me. This year it's a party given by a friend...it's a yearly thing and I have never been. It starts to look a bit suspicious when you are friends with someone for years and never attend the biggest event in their yearly schedule. So now there's the aded expectation that I need to go to this party and it needs to be the *biggest!* and *best!* party I've ever been to. In the costume I'm not entirely confident about.

This happens with Christmas. It happens in the summer with our summer plans. It happens all the time: build up, lack of confidence, overwhelm, fatigue, ennui. It's a vicious cycle in which I don't actually live up to the expectations I set for myself and I get all bent out of shape about it. I'd like to say that this is because life keeps happening while I try to plan the "perfect" holiday experience (whatever that is), but really it's my own doing.

I've got to find a way to fix this, to take things a little easier, to experience...not make experiences.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

People who need people.

2011-10-20T20:20:00.001-05:00

I've been fortunate in my life to have been a member of some truly amazing and beautiful groups. Musical groups, scout groups, 4-H groups. Career groups college groups. I find that a truly amazing group of people will bond tightly and quickly. Connections are made, you may or may not spend time together outside the formal structure of the group. When your time together ends, you are lucky if you continue the connection with one person in that group. If you see others again later in life, you may or may not have much in common with them.

Without fail, I have found this to be true: I am the most myself with my sisters. Some readers will think I come from a large family, and certainly my biological sister is one of my secret keepers. I'm talking now, however, about sisters of my heart: my girl scout sisters.

I've never run into an old friend from scouts and been at a loss for what to talk about. I've never seen one and been afraid to say "do I know you?". I've never seen one and had her not ask me if she knows me. And I've never felt awkward looking for something to say. These girls, these old friends...something sticks in them. Something important. It sticks in me too. It makes me better.

I lost an old friend this week. Cancer. Young. I saw old friends at the funeral home I haven't seen in 20 years. I have spent time with these women when we were young and thought we ruled the world. Camping, helping, serving others. Their hugs were true, I couldn't get enough time with them. I'm so thankful. I'm so thankful.

2011-10-13T06:54:00.001-05:00

Test post. Move along.

Getting started is always the hard part.

2011-10-12T14:59:00.000-05:00

Let's just establish that this will be the self-reflective "getting back to the blog" post. If you'd like, you can just skip this one and come back later.

Blogging, like exercise, seems to be hard to restart once you stop. I know because I have also recently started exercising again....I think that blogging will involve less sweat. The music might be a bit mellower, as well.

I've missed blogging, though. For four years or so, I had become used to sitting down at the computer and jotting down a few thoughts. Or a lot of thoughts. Publishing it to the world. Okay...not the world, but at least it was going out there. My dad read it, so that was nice, except when it was awkward (hi Dad!!). But then there was the whole baby thing, and the losing my mind trying to figure out how to mother two children thing, and the three year old dropping his nap thing (throwing our whole carefully constructed schedule into chaos once again). But I've missed sitting here, musing, hitting publish and wondering if anyone would read. Or sometimes getting it all out here at the keyboard, hitting publish, and hoping no one would read it....or at least indicate to me that they had read it (Hi, Dad!!!).

So I'd like to get this started again. I'd like to have a record of our days here at le Chez. I've come to appreciate the time I'm spending at home in a very new and unique way, and I think in a few years I won't remember what this was all like....and that would be a shame.

So, I"m back. Let's see where this goes!

Reminders

2010-08-28T18:05:00.000-05:00

Well hey there, cutie. how are you?

Today a few things happened that led to the post you are reading right now. First, I got an email from a friend asking about the Buddy Walk. It was one of those moments when the TO DO list jumps right off the page and smacks you.

Our Fundrasing page for the Buddy Walk? It's been done for about a month.

The blog post talking about the walk? Not so much. Also, emailing our past team members to let them know the date and page so they could register....unfinished. So I started to get to it...I selected a picture...the one you see in front of you, as a matter of fact, and I posted it.

Then I went to Costco because Hubby had promised me a hot dog. A hot dog I did not get, I might add. But I digress....again the Blog stood neglected.

Then I was innocently reading a few blogs that I like, and this quote reminded me of my purpose today. Let me share the quote I found:

"Strange is our situation here upon earth. Each of us comes for a short visit, not knowing why, yet sometimes seeming to a divine purpose. From the standpoint of daily life, however, there is one thing we do know: That we are here for the sake of others...for the countless unknown souls with whose fate we are connected by a bond of sympathy. Many times a day, I realize how much my outer and inner life is built upon the labors of people, both living and dead, and how earnestly I must exert myself in order to give in return as much as I have received.” -Albert Einstein

And so I'm back, to talk to you about the Buddy walk, and the purpose I have right now. The purpose I devote myself to each fall. The purpose of celebration, of remembrance, of love, of devotion.....the purpose of reminding YOU that I have some requests, and the reasons I must make them.

Each year since Ben was born our family has participated in the Buddy Walk: a fundraising walk for the Down Syndrome Guild of Southeast Michigan. Each year I remind you what a wonderful cause this is, how much the Guild has helped us out, and what they do for families who are raising children who have a little something extra in their lives. I write about Tiny Man.

We will walk again this year, and I know of some others who will walk with us. If you've never been to a Buddy Walk, maybe this is the year for you. There is no energy like the energy of this day....the energy of families who want you to know what their children CAN accomplish, the energy of children who want you to see them for who they are: kids leading normal lives, loving, playing, going to school, and along the way dealing with a few extra challenges.

The Buddy Walk is nothing short of magic.

If you choose to make a donation to our team, you will be supporting people who want nothing more than to lead a life like everyone else. Your donation goes directly to an organization that advocates for equal treatment, equal rights, equal education, equal opportunities for people who have Down syndrome. Your money is used to purchase equipment, fund educational endeavors, but most of it goes directly to families in the form of advocacy, assistance, scholarships, and education. I have seen first hand what the money is spent on, and it is good.

If you would like to walk, to donate, or just to learn more, please visit our fund raising page by clicking here.

If you have any questions about how to navigate the page (which can be tricky), or about Tiny man, or about what this is all about, please feel free to comment or to contact me directly.

Thank you.

Where Pregnancy meets Sleep Habits

2010-07-02T18:44:00.000-05:00

You should know that I'm about 29 weeks pregnant. That means that I'm more than halfway through the cook time of this here babe in my belly, and also that any minute the pregnancy is going to start to suck. I'm really quite fond of being pregnant. I mean, I don't want to be pregnant forever, but generally it agrees with me just fine. I like it. I like feeling the baby move, I like seeing my body grow...I feel good...it agrees with me. Until about the very end, then it really makes me miserable. Like most pregnant women, at the very end things get dicey. I'm no longer comfortable. It starts to dawn on me that, eventually, this baby has to be born (and logistically, that's a little frightening). The belly stops being cute and starts inhibiting every. single. movement. I try to make. In short, it starts to suck.

I am well aware that this time is coming.

I didn't think it would happen yet, and I didn't think that it would happen in ways that were different from previous pregnancies, but I may be wrong.

In order to fully understand the following story, you need to also know that I wake up...well...slowly would be an understatement. I'm not a "wakey wakey jump out of bed" kind of person. It takes me a few minutes. I'm generally quite confused upon waking, and I need to get my bearings.

That's why, last night, I was completely certain I had swallowed a bug in my sleep.

I woke up with a burning sensation in the back of my throat, and woke up COMPLETELY PANICKED. Not only had a bug CRAWLED IN MY THROAT, I was really quite certain it was a black bug with neon spots on it. It was also quite poisonous (why else would it burn?). It had crawled in my throat while I was sleeping, and when I tried to swallow my muscles popped it, and it died and that's what made my throat burn.

Did I mention I'm often confused upon waking? And that I have a rather active imagination?

I related this whole story to Hubby, who woke up immediately from a dead sleep upon hearing my panicked gasp. And do you know what he said?

"Or, it's heartburn. Go back to sleep."

Oh, yeah. I"m pregnant. Pregnant ladies sometimes have heartburn at night.

Whew. That's all...just....whew.

I need to read this every day....

2010-06-25T19:01:00.000-05:00

"I don't want to surprise you, but I'm not a small girl..."
This is a direct quote from me to my doctor last week. The baby is measuring big, and I asked if the measurement could be influenced by my tummy adding an inch or two (it could). So yeah, sometimes I joke about my weight.
But also? I hate wearing a swimsuit. I haven't worn a pair of shorts in about four years. I borrowed two pair of maternity shorts from a friend and they are so cool and comfortable...but you can bet they won't see the outside of this house and yard all summer. Capris are so dependable, and so forgiving.

I could write for a month about my issues and feelings about weight, but it's not something that would be all that interesting to the outside world....suffice it to say, however, that I saw something today that really hit a nerve with me... read it here ....

I guess sometimes I just need a reminder of what's important.

We're going in the pool at my in-laws on sunday, and I can't wait to be the one carrying Toast around while he puts his face in and blows bubbles, and kicks his little feet.

Can't. Wait.

Conversations with my Toddler, V. 2

2010-05-18T15:45:00.000-05:00

Toast: What are you doin, Mama?
Me: I'm trying on the new dress I bought. Do you like it? Is it pretty?
Toast: It's just okay
Me: Just okay?
Toast: it's just okay
Me: We have to work on your lines. You should never tell a girl her dress is just okay. You've got to get some better lines.
Toast: I have some.
Me: Not good ones!
Toast: I have some.

Universe, I'm going to need help raising boys.

22 weeks

2010-05-17T08:14:00.000-05:00

22 weeks and the baby is doing great....and me too. Ultrasounds show that we're having a boy (cue the My Three Sons theme), and that said boy is healthy and on target.
We're having the Fetal Echocardiogram done today, simply because of history. I had one done when pregnant with Toast as well; after Tiny Man's heart issues, it's a precaution. Still, every test seems like a hurtle to be crossed. I keep telling myself that it doesn't matter, that it is okay if something is wrong. I think that in the back of my mind I will feel as if I'm not honoring Tiny Man's memory by wanting a healthy kid...seems silly, but that's it.

More on results soon. In the meantime I offer the standard lines: yes, it doesn't matter because this is our kid and we'll do what we need to do. But yes, I want him to be healthy. I think it shouldn't be this complicated.

Conversations with my Toddler

2010-04-29T18:17:00.000-05:00

Me: Are you still hungry?
Toast: nom nom nom (eating chicken) I WANT CHEESE.
Me: Is your chicken gone (I've given up on the Broccoli that's on his plate, that's clearly a lost cause)
Toast: I want cheese please.
Me: I asked you if your chicken was gone
Toast: And I said I wanted cheese.

*sigh*

Later:
me: Do you know where ambulances take people?
Toast: To their houses?
Me: no, to the hospital to get better. Do you know what else people go to the hospital for? To have babies!
Toast: I want to go meet the baby!
Me: We'll have to ask if they let big brothers visit. Sometimes they do.
Toast: I'll drive my garbage truck there.

There was a long discussion about purchasing a Garbage truck, who would be able to drive it, and where we would take it. Toast is insisting that since I can drive my car (a Honda Civic) that I can drive a Garbage Truck too. And he'll take it to the park.

I LOVE the way the two year old mind works. Always keeps me on my feet.

Songs

2010-04-26T13:46:00.000-05:00

So you might say I have a wee obsession with music. Of all kinds. I do have favorites, and particular sounds that I enjoy most: classic rock, folk, bluegrass, singer songwriters. But on any given day you might find me listening to the Clash just as much as I'll have on Iron and Wine, or Kenny Chesney, or Def Leppard....it just depends on how I feel.

When I became pregnant with Tiny man, I had to make him a playlist. In the old days, it would have been a mix tape, with each side carefully calculated for running time, mix of genres, tempos and message. The type of music would be carefully analyzed so that there wasn't too much of each generation on there. I think that playlists are easier. We can now listen to a playlist in order, on shuffle, or easily move things around. It gets easier to change your mind. Toast has his own playlist, as well. I really tried to not have too much crossover between the two, and believe me when I tell you that was really hard.

So now I'm pregnant with number three, and it's high time I started working on the playlist. Here's what the other two have for theirs:

Tiny Man's playlist:
Baby Mine (Allison Krauss)
Let it Be (The Beatles)
You're the Love of My Life (Carly Simon)
Close to you (the Carpenters)
You're The Inspiration (Chicago)
Spend My Time (Clint Black)
Longer (Dan Fogelburg)
The One Who Knows (Dar Willams)
Godspeed (Sweet Dreams) (Dixie Chicks)
I'll Take Care Of You (Dixie Chicks)
Vincent (Don McLean)
Till The Rivers All Run Dry (Don Williams)
This Love Will Carry (Dougie MacLean)
Your Song (Elton John)
How Can I Keep From Singing? (Trad. this version by Enya)
Tears In Heaven (Eric Clapton)
Everlong (Acoustic) (Foo Fighters)
Wrapped Up in You (Garth Brooks)
Cats in the Cradle (Harry Chapin)
Fare Thee Well (Indigo Girls)
You're Beautiful (James Blunt)
Sweet baby James (James Taylor)
Time in a Bottle (Jim Croce)
For Baby, For Bobby (John Denver)
For You (John Denver)
Beautiful Boy (John Lennon)
You raise me up (Josh Groban)
Making Memories of Us (Keith Urban)
Roots And Wings (an obscure Jewish women's vocal group called Vocolot)
Ben (Michael Jackson)
Rainbow Connection (Kermit)
Wonder (Natalie Merchant)
I've Just Seen A Face ( Orig. by the Beatles, this version by The Paperboys)
Mother and Child Reunion (Paul Simon)
In your Eyes (Peter Gabriel)
You'll Be In My Heart (Phil Collins)
Nightswimming (REM)
Forever Young (Rod Stewart)
I Will Remember You (Sarah McLachlan)
Angel (Sarah McLachlan)
I Knew I Loved You (Savage Garden)
I Don't Know Why (Shawn Colvin)
By My Side (Godspell soundtrack)
On Children (Sweet Honey in the Rock)
Wait for Me (Tracy Chapman)
Beautiful Day (U2)
On Eagles Wings (Trad.)

And here's Toast's:
Sunrise (Norah Jones)
On Children
Lullaby For A Stormy Night (Vienna Teng)
More Time (Need to Breathe)
For You (John Denver)
Godspeed (Sweet Dreams) (Dixie Chicks)
Everlong (Acoustic) (Foo Fighters)
Roots And Wings
The One Who Knows Dar Willams
Pass On The Love (the Persuasions)
Love will Come to you (Indigo Girls)
Love (The Story)
The Storms Are On The Ocean (Ollabelle)
Gypsy (Suzanne Vega)
Ordinary Miracle (Sarah McLachlan)
I Don't Know Why (Shawn colvin)
On a high (Duncan Sheik)
Breathe (Faith Hill)
The Water is Wide (Trad, this ver. from the Lilith Fair Album)
When You Say Nothing At All (Allison Krauss)
You Got Growin' Up To Do (Joshua Radin)
Beautiful Boy (John Lennon)

So here's the deal: I have some songs in common between the two, and there are certain songs that will also be on this next playlist. For You, by John Denver, for example, was also our wedding song, and it is one of the lovliest love songs I know. That will be on there. "I Don't Know Why" by Shawn Colvin seems like everything I want to say as a parent to my child, so that will also be on there. There are also songs that are so specific to one or the other I cannot ever think of them in any other way. "Let it Be" and "Wait for me" were played at Tiny Man's funeral. I can't even listen to them all the way through. And the line "For one so small you seem so strong" from "You'll be in my heart" is SO Tiny Man I'll never think of anyone else but him when I hear it. Likewise "The One Who Knows" by Dar Willams is very uniquely a song about the relationship I have with my Toast, as is "The Water is Wide". But I am in need of some new material.

I don't know if all songs suggested will help me....the meaning behind why I chose each of these is deeply personal, especially Tiny Man's, which contains a healthy number of songs that I added after his death. As Toast ages, more will be added, that I am sure of. The only requirement I have is that I don't want "kid songs" on there. No Elmo, no Wiggles. I"m sure they have some remarkable songs, but that's not what I"m going for. I'm thinking lullabyes and love songs.

So what do you think? I need some new music, folks.

You say.....

2010-04-17T08:52:00.001-05:00

I read a blog this week that really hit home with me. This entry on a site called "Ordinary Courage" has the author listing the ways she's like her dad. It's funny to me, only because as I become older I realize that all the old addages are true: you do become your parents.

There's a lot about me that's like my mom. Hubby likes to point these things out to me when I'm particularly frustrated over something by saying "Okay, Jane". Someday I'll have to tell him how much I appreciate that.

Today, though, I thought I would follow the lead of the post I just linked to and tell you the ways I'm like my dad:
- Because of my dad's love of music, and countless games of "Stump the Chump" the car, I have an encyclopedic knowledge of music. Not just the stuff I would have picked up by being a music lover, anyway, all that 80's stuff, the retro hits...no....the entirety of Rock and Roll history. My sister, my dad and I, when we get going, are really a force to be reckoned with.

- I earned my love of music from my dad, but my knowledge of useless Trivia, I'm convinced, is purely genetic. The amount of...well, crap that is in my brain and can be quoted at random times is truly staggering. I absorb these things like a sponge. They are rarely useful...unless I ever go on Jeopardy, which probably won't happen because I keep saying I"m going to take the test and then not taking it. Something, by the way, that my dad does too.

- We can go back and forth for days with really bad puns. I mean, things that make other people leave the room. A favorite is the "what do you call a guy..." one liners. What do you call a guy with no arms and no legs in the bushes? Rustle. It never ends. We've each heard them a million times, and it never gets old.

- We both like peanut butter on our toast.

- We can both sit for a great length of time "watching the world go by"

- We can both wave with our feet.

- We both like to drive. There is nothing better than a really good song on the radio and a nice road to drive on...not a highway...some back road going no where. That's the stuff.

All in all, I'd have to say that the best of me came from my parents...and the stuff that I like most about myself, all the funny quirks that make me who I am? That came from my dad.

Happy Birthday, Dad. :)

the way things change.

2010-04-15T08:50:00.000-05:00

It was almost a year ago that I wrote this. The time between 18 months and two years was tough for me, as I was unprepared for exactly how attached (I prefer to say clingy) kids get at that age...and Toast was no exception. It was hard for me.

Imagine my surprise, then, at the day we had yesterday.

We left the house to go and have lunch with our friends, as we do once a week. I stopped at a certain national chain coffee shop first to get some coffee, and as we were walking in a man with a dog was sitting outside. I always tell Toast that we don't talk to dogs we don't know, but I also know he LOVES dogs. What is it about kids and dogs? Anyway, I asked the man if we could pet his dog, and he said sure. The dog was sweet and friendly and Toast dove in immediately. After a short break to go in and get a drink, we returned to the dog, and I had a conversation with the man. He looked at me in the middle and said "your kid is fearless!" To me, this is a huge complement.

I want my kid to be independent. I want him to be cautious, and smart, and careful, yes, but I want him to be decisive and brave and independent as well. One of the things I love most about Toast at this age is that he is walking the line between these two sides so very well. He loves to be outside, and explore, and I love it when he runs back to me (or hubby) every few minutes to tell us what he's doing, or show me something, or tell me he loves me...then it's off again to whatever he's up to.

My eyes nearly popped out of my head a few weeks ago when we went to the play area at the mall and he actually PLAYED...ran around like a little maniac, instead of sitting by my side saying "mama, you want to go?" and pulling at my hand because he didn't want to go alone.

After leaving the dog, we continued on to the park for lunch. The park we visited has a large wood play structure, one of the very fancy ones with things to climb, crawl through, slide down, investigate, and play on. There are only two entrances, and much of the seating is placed so you can watch both at once. It's marvelous...and Toast was in his element. He took off and explored every last nook and cranny of the place. Every few minutes, I'd just get up and go make sure I could spot him. Invariably he had a huge smile on his face and was either trying to talk up another kid or just walking around happily. I loved seeing him explore everything.

But this post isn't about his changes and his independence. It's about how, as Toast has become MORE independent, I've become more attached.

It was surprisingly hard to let him go yesterday. I knew he was having a great time, but if he was out of eyesight it made me crazy.

Then......

He had climbed to the top of a tower and was looking out, as he turned to leave he had two options: walk forward to the stairs and climb down, or walk left, where a fireman's pole was waiting. The decking opened out into nothing so the kids could grab the pole and slide down.

Oh yes, he did. He walked right out into nothing.

I've never moved so fast in my life, watching him drop almost eight feet to the ground. When I got there he had a look on his face like "What the HELL just happened". As I picked him up, he started to cry. It was all I could do not to cry myself. He was fine, not screaming in pain, no blood, no bumps or bruises...just a very scared cry and two little arms that went around my neck and held on tighter than they have before.

If this is parenting, I'm not sure why it doesn't come with a warning label.

We had a cuddle, and some water, and a banana. Then he said "Time to go" and went off to play again. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't stop thinking about this all night last night, and as I went to sleep it dawned on me that he can still wrap his tiny chubby arms around my neck and cry right now. At least we have that. One day he's going to get hurt and that won't be possible....some stupid girl will break his heart, or he won't get something he really wants. He'll fail at something he tries really hard to do well. We all do these things. And then, when I'm not able to hug him tight and soothe him, THEN what am I supposed to do?

This parenting thing? It's hard.

Somebody get me my hammer and scythe...

2010-03-22T13:08:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking for a long time about writing on this blog my thoughts regarding the health care debate. I've been having a hard time putting them concisely, though, and I feel that much has been said in one sided forums like this. I'd like to leave it alone.

I would, however, for the record, like to comment on a broader issue surrounding the health care debate that has me troubled. It's the absence of intelligent debate. The absence of knowledge and intelligence when discussing a topic. The tendency toward hysteria, rhetoric, lies, meanness, and recently (and most disappointingly), reports of racism in public demonstrations.

Look. You ARE entitled to your opinion. Yes, I mean that. Yes, even when it's different from mine. But I'm tired of the passive-aggressiveness involved in this debate. AND even though I happen to be in favor of the idea of health care overhaul, I think there is plenty of shame to go around on both sides. It makes me weary. It saddens me, and not only because I see a nation that doesn't want to debate what (in my opinion, yes) is a basic human need, but because in all of this discussion I haven't seen evidence of a single well-constructed argument from our lawmakers on either side.

The presence of multiple forums in our lives where we seem to be able to say whatever we want without being held accountable. Things we would NEVER say to another person's face..(I'm looking at you, facebook)..these things just make it worse. I'm so appalled at some of the things people have been writing.

Shame on us. Shame on us for making this discussion about our own selfishness and not about people. Shame on us for not doing better for our country. Shame on both sides.

Some musings on 3-21

2010-03-21T20:49:00.000-05:00

Today is World Down Syndrome Day, chosen for the numerical date. People with Down syndrome (DS) have three instead of two copies of their twenty-first chromosome, hence "3-21". The past four years I have spent March 21st, and many other days, reflecting on what Down syndrome has meant to me...

Some parents report that after hearing about their child's diagnosis of Down syndrome, they start to see people with DS everywhere. My experience was exactly the opposite...part of my grieving process upon learning Tiny Man would be born with DS was to look around and marvel at the number of "NORMAL" people in the world...it was so shocking to me that most of the time, babies are born so typically, so normally.

One of the many reasons I am so thankful we found out about Tiny Man's DS before his birth is because of this grieving period. Hubby and I had time to deal with our feelings regarding DS before the baby came. Given all the health issues and decisions that had to be confronted after he was born, I realize now that if we hadn't learned of the DS ahead of time, the amount of information would have been completely overwhelming.

Given all that we had to deal with, health-wise, after Tiny Man was born, the Down syndrome didn't seem to be a big deal. When we really started to see the effects on his development, we were just so glad that he was still with us...it didn't ever occur to me to resent the fact that he was developing more slowly or that he didn't do the things that other kids did. His health issues always overshadowed his developmental issues. We say all the time that we just did what he needed us to do, and we would have done that forever. After all, he made it so easy for us to care for him and gave us such rewards in the process.

Since Tiny Man's death, Down syndrome continues to be a big part of my life. Some of my closest friends have children with DS, and I'm so thankful that I get to be a part of the lives of these kids. I'm thankful that Toast has always known friends with DS, and hopefully always will. I'm thankful that to him, these kids aren't different...they are just his friends.

Many parents of children with Down syndrome say that their kids have taught them to look at the world differently, and I agree...but I continue to be reminded of this by children other than my own. Down syndrome and my involvement in this community reminds me that people matter, not labels and not diagnoses. It's made me aware of a larger cause, a larger community, and how people can change attitudes in others when they don't intend to.

So happy World Down Syndrome day. I have to admit that I didn't wake up today thinking about it, much like I didn't look at Tiny man and see Down syndrome every time. I try to be aware and thankful of these things every day, much like I loved, and continue to love, my son every day; in spite of (and because of) his differences. That? That's what I'm most thankful for...what some see as abnormal is so completely normal to me. Thanks for that.

A few words on kindness

2010-03-10T08:43:00.000-05:00

I had one of those experiences yesterday....where I wonder if I'm overreacting, or if I'm right. I'll leave it up to you to decide.

I had to call a business and ask a few questions before making a visit today...in this case it was a bridal shop. What they do is not important, though, I've had this experience before.

What I wanted to ask went something like this:
"Hi, I'm __ and my sister in law is getting married this year. She has picked out her dresses, and I'd like to know if you have a particular style in stock so I can come in a try it on." That's it. Two sentences. Here's how the conversation actually went:

Me: "Hi, my sister in law is getting married
Lady: "What's her name."

pause

Me: "Well, she hasn't been to your shop, but it's close to me, so I'm asking about the bridesmaid dresses
Lady: "What Style"

pause

Me: "Jasmine" (insert dress number here)
Lady: "I have to check the internet to see if we have it in stock" *click*

and I'm on hold.

As if this weren't bad enough....after being on hold for awhile (a minute?) I hear a series of clicks, intermittent talking, then a long pause. No one's there. Then a repeat. I am assuming that whoever I was talking to didn't understand how to get the phone off of hold. I hung up...so infuriated...but I called back to try again.

Here's what I wanted to say: "Hi, I just called, but I think I got cut off. I was asking about a dress, to see if I could come try it on"

Here's what I got out of my mouth... "Hi, I just called" when I was interrupted with "you were talking to ___ hold on"*click* And I'm on hold again. For about two minutes. At this point I hung up and called the other shops on my list.

Maybe I'm old fashioned, but I was taught not to interrupt when talking to someone. And I know I still do it, when I"m in a conversation with someone and we're really excited about what we're talking about. But I try really hard not to; you know why? BECAUSE IT'S ANNOYING. I can't stand being interrupted! I hate it! It is so incredibly rude! The thing is, I rarely notice it in family and friends (though sometimes I do), but it really gets under my skin when I'm trying to talk to a service provider of some kind. 99% Of the time the question they interrupt me with will be answered if they just LISTEN to what I want to say.

In this case, the story I related above, I called back again later, and was told that she "had other customers" and she would have to call me back about my question. I told her not to bother. The problem with starting off like this is that I get the impression that you won't listen to ANYTHING I want or say when I actually meet you in person! So after this exchange on the phone, do you actually think I'm going to come in and be bullied through trying on a dress and talking about alterations? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

To make a larger statement, in economic times like this, when people do less business because of their budget, and more of the business they do have over the internet, do you really think that this kind of phone manner is going to get you a whole lot of customers? To put it another way, how's this working for you?

...On a Lighter Note....

2010-03-08T09:51:00.000-05:00

WE'RE PREGNANT!

I probably should have done some kind of witty run up to that announcement, but I just couldn't. Hubby and I waited three long months to tell our parents, and we finally did last night....now I can share my excitement with everyone...I'm just over the moon.

I went a long time after losing Tiny Man thinking "Well, this is it"...we would only have one child. I was older ( not old, just older ): 35, and I figured I would never be ready to try and be a new mom again. Slowly, though, I started to remember how lovely babies are. The fact that I could remember all the lovely parts instead of the up-at-night, no-sleeping, post-partum-hell parts is a witness either to the amazing elasticity of the brain, or mental illness. I'm not sure which.

At any rate, we're ready to give this another go. More on telling the parents later.

I can't say this too many times....or this well....

2010-02-27T20:24:00.000-05:00

Those who know me know that there are many things that bother me. One is people who use the word "retard" in any form, at any time, and for any purpose. I'd like to tell you why it bothers me, but as luck would have it, an online friend did just that today on Facebook, and quite eloquently. She has an adorable little girl who happens to have Down syndrome. We've never met in real life, but I've been inspired and moved by her words more than once.....today she gave me permission to re-post these words here. Thanks, Rebecca. :)

Dear friends and family,

When you use the r-word, even in the most casual of terms, even when you follow it with "I'm not talking about E" or "I don't mean it like that", it doesn't take away from the fact that I am aware that anyone who can just randomly throw out such an ugly word in front of me or my child, likely uses it more when there is no need for excuses or reasons.

No worries there good buddy, pal, great friend of mine, there is no protection in place to prevent the use of this word in any form or fashion. It isn’t illegal to use the r-word.
There won’t be any r-word police there they next time you purposefully choose to utter that word. There isn’t a twelve-step program; there aren’t recovery groups for those who cannot stop using the word. No one is going to hold you accountable when or if you do say retard.

Do you remember the last time you saw my daughter? Whether it was in person, a photo, or video, did she seem any less human to you? Do you think that the quality of her life is any different from yours? Do you think that by merely having an extra chromosome she is any less worthy of respect? Does she look or act retarded, as you use it to describe individuals?

The word retard is unacceptable in any form. I am certain there are other words you can use to replace it. Retard is a pejorative, prejudice-laden, derogatory offensive term. When you choose the word retard or retarded, you are without any further thought, reminding me that there are plenty of people in this world who still make this word choice when describing individuals with Down syndrome, and many others, none of whom should be referred to as the r-word.

Let us not debate about when, where, or by whom you may feel the word retard is appropriate. Let’s avoid reviewing all the recent hype about usage of the r-word by those who have political influence, by those who are celebrities or are otherwise in the public eye. I am sick and tired of the video clips and banter about who was wrong, why it was wrong, and frankly, anyone can defend the usage of the word as acceptable for usage in satire or anything else for that matter.

The r-word is not acceptable streaming across the nations airways or behind the walls of closed political events. Contrary to your naïve belief there is certainly not an acceptable usage clause or disclaimer that provides you or any other friend and family member leniency when you elect to use the r-word.

Do not bite your tongue or quickly pitter-patter around your accidental usage in my presence. It is what it is and there is no way you can take that word back. If you are comfortable enough to use it in front of me or my child, you are just as wrong as those who have a large audience and great impact on their listeners. You should know better, everyone should know better, there is no excuse or reason for the r-word.

Now I shall direct you to the campaign to end the word. No, I am not asking you to mindlessly meander over to the page and join this cause merely because it only takes a few moments. No, I am not asking you to simply make a few mouse clicks and without any further thought to join the plight to end the r-word, that would be foolish. Do not join the group because you think it will serve as some good token for points because it looks as if you really do care—if you do not. Yes, I am fully aware that simply joining a cause does not require a follow through.

Please be aware that in my world, and the world of many others, the r-word is not ok today, tomorrow, or any time in the future. It should not be acceptable in your world either.

Stop using the r-word.

http://www.r-word.org/

Some more thoughts on forgiving.

2010-02-25T23:32:00.000-05:00

I had an interesting conversation yesterday with a friend that is struggling with friendship (and one particular friend) in many of the same ways I have. I mentioned to her my struggles in choosing to leave a friendship behind and move on, and she asked me a question so many people have: "What did she do?"

I've gotten this question so many times. I never know how to answer it.

I guess I feel guilty because I feel like there should be some concrete answer...some REASON for leaving behind a close friendship of eight years. There is none...it was a hundred, a thousand, a million tiny things. It was both of us changing, struggling with life, finding that our paths led elsewhere. Sure, I can point to specific things I found "wrong", or mean, or just downright infuriating...but when it comes right down to it, I guess I was just fed up.

I feel sometimes that in order to forgive we have to be able to be forgiving some major wrong...something so horrendous and hurtful that it has truly wounded us. I'm just mourning the loss of a friendship.

And yet.

I keep going back to arguments, things said, situations when I needed a friend that wasn't there. I have guilt over not being the person I want to be: independent, strong, supportive, confident.

The final blow was an argument over email as things were ending. She said things to me that went directly to the root of every insecurity I have...and she did it because she COULD. Because she knew me that well.

Despite this, despite the really really hurtful things I remember most....the things that really left scars...I think that the person I'm struggling most to forgive is myself. She is no longer in my life, and it doesn't take much thought for me to realize that I'm okay with that. It's my personal demons I'm struggling with, the fear that the things she said to me are, in fact, true. On the heels of this fear is the anger that I would let someone hurt me...the anger that I can't just shake off the words and the hurt.

I wish I could say, as this month draws to a close, that the forgiveness I'm searching for has come easily. It has not. I hope that as time goes by, though, I can stop letting this bitterness I feel dominate what is really important: my life is better now. My friendships are stronger now. And I try every day to ignore the voices inside me and instead live life in a way that makes me proud at the end of the day. I try to be the person I want to be. Isn't this still a process for all of us?

I have a strong motivator. One of the most valuable things I learned by being Tiny Man's momma is that tomorrow, yesterday...they don't matter. TODAY matters. Can I go to bed tonight knowing that my actions today were kind, strong, purposeful? Did I live my life today with happiness? Did I leave room for grace, for accepting the unexpected, for rolling with the punches? I have to keep reminding myself that if I have done these things, I have succeeded in another day of leaving behind a life to be proud of.

It happened in the yogurt aisle

2010-02-23T19:27:00.000-05:00

Recently there have been a few incidents that have me reconsidering that whole "boys are easier than girls when it comes to dating" wisdom that seems to float around. Today was another example.

Toast is really excited about going to the grocery store now, because two stores near us feature "little" shopping carts. They are just his size, and he LOVES to push his own cart around the store. It's a little hair-raising for me, but he's getting better over time. The first time we tried this he nearly ran down two old ladies in frozen foods....I had to physically run after the cart (bent over, of course, because the cart is two feet tall) and restrain him as he tried to madly push it into their galoshes in front of the ice cream. It's a wonder I let him at the things after that.

Before I continue this story I have to tell you that one of my pet peeves when grocery shopping is someone who leaves their cart in the aisle as they go to look for other things. I don't mean parked discreetly at the side of the aisle, I mean DIRECTLY in the middle so that no one can get around them. It's one of the things I hate most in this life.

So today when my son abandoned his cart in one of the main aisles in the supermarket to go pick up a girl, you'll understand that I was duly shocked.

To be fair, she was cute. His age, golden locks, pink jacket, Elmo in the shopping basket. Toast must have noticed the basket first because his pickup line was "I like your Elmo"...she was instantly smitten. They held hands. He asked her to go home with him. She said he needed to go home with her mommy. After some prolonged smiling and flirting in the checkout lane, they had to part ways. It was a little tragic.

I was laughing to hard to be worried, but I should note that this is the SECOND time he has attempted to use his powers of persuasion on young women while out in public. The first time had him holding hands and asking a SEVEN YEAR OLD to go home with him in his mama's car.

Mothers, lock up your daughters. Toast is on the prowl.

Talismans

2010-02-15T14:31:00.000-05:00

I am fortunate enough to be the owner of a lot of really lovely shiny things that commemorate the birth and life of my Tiny Man. When he was born I received a pair of earrings and a necklace in his birthstone from Hubby. I also have a mommy bracelet that was made for me. It, too, has his birthstone and his name spelled out on it. It's not something I would have chosen for myself, but I wore it faithfully every day until Toast was born, when I received a second bracelet with both boys names on it. I love them. I also have a "B" on a silver chain, and few assorted bracelets made for me by hospice volunteers. I frequently wear a blue and yellow rubber bracelet for Down syndrome awareness. It's not dressy, but it's a daily reminder to myself and to others what one of my strongest priorities is. My two favorite things are a locket I received at Tiny Man's memorial, with his picture in it, of course; and a necklace that is now my every day wear. The second has two metal tags, each is stamped with a name...one for Tiny Man and one for Toast. I love it....it was my "push prize" from Hubby. *an aside*: I'm aware of the crassness of the term "push prize", but I made it abundantly clear to Hubby at the outset of our marriage that while I am NOT a girl who requires regular gifts of shiny things, it was of paramount importance that I receive the shiny gift of my choosing ASAP after bearing a child. It's okay for you to think this is shallow of me, I don't mind. I make up for it in other areas.

The purpose of this post isn't to enumerate my jewelry collection for you, but to share how some of these things are significant to me. I'm really not a dressy kind of girl. These items aren't expensive, they aren't flashy, and they don't hold a whole lot of monetary value. There are days, however, that I want to wear all of them at once. If I didn't think it would make me look like some ridiculous mommy-version of Mr. T, I probably would. They remind me of Tiny man. Of what he means to me, and they are a way to help keep him present in my daily life.

I have other Talismans too...but they aren't as visible. These are the gifts my son gave me.

I look at people with disabilities differently now. It isn't that I was judgemental or rude before; I was simply uncomfortable because I wasn't sure what to do or how to act. I didn't want to say anything wrong. Tiny man did so much to draw people in to him. Without a single word (he never learned to talk), he could draw a complete stranger to him, introduce himself, and hold a conversation. A simple smile, a laugh...the twinkle in those eyes that were so blue I couldn't have chosen the color in Photoshop if I wanted to. This gift of acceptance is a Talisman I carry with me every day. It helps me to see people better, to laugh at life (and myself), and to accept imperfection.

I worry less. I'm a planner, and boy did I try to plan everything about Tiny man's life. Before I even got pregnant I had a plan...when I would get pregnant, how it would work with my teaching schedule, when I would have to go back, what the baby would be doing at that age and how things would work out in daycare. When he was born I tried to think of a plan. There was none. We made a plan, instead, of what to do if he died in the car on the way home. Not the kind of plan I had in mind. After several months, we started thinking about the fall...would I return to work? Who would take care of him? How would his health be? I was so scared to stay home...scared of money (or the lack of it), scared of losing myself and my identity, scared of leaving my job, scared of being alone with him (though I didn't realize it at the time). All the old adages about planning? We all know them because they are all true: "we plan, god laughs"..."life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans"..."the best laid plans of mice and men"...it's all true. Instead I realized that if I stop trying to plan my life, I can actually live it. I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow, or next week, or three months from now. I can make sure I'm ready for good things (be frugal, stay healthy, keep an open mind)...but I can't plan. It won't work. Another thing? When I stopped planning, I loved my life so much more...and I found that life loved me back and gave me gifts beyond what I thought possible.

I'm more forgiving. I know that in light of recent blog posts this may be difficult to understand, but it's true. I'm less likely to bristle over an off hand comment. I'm more likely to remember that people say things that they don't think through. I try to remember that I can't control other people and what they think, and sometimes the best thing to do is just walk away and Let. It. GO.

I've spent a lot of time this year, on the anniversary of Tiny Man's death, thinking about my Talismans...about how the lessons I learned from him still guide me. He really is my star...and he's still with me every day...helping me get through this life with some grace and dignity. It sounds like a cliche, but it's true that sometimes it's those who know the least that teach us the most.

I miss you, buddy. Every day. Still.
Love,
Mama

What's the meaning of this?

2010-02-09T22:31:00.000-05:00

What does it mean to forgive someone who is not a part of your life? I mean....not the guy that cuts you off in traffic or the rude person in the grocery store line...I mean someone who has done a personal wrong to you. Someone who knew you so well as to use your insecurities against you in an argument, disagreement, or complete destruction of a relationship. I don't feel the need to re-establish a relationship with this friend. In fact, I think that my life has grown significantly since we ended our friendship...I"m not the same person. I'm sure she isn't either. Forgiving seems sticky, though.

I'm not sure I can forgive without contacting her. In some ways, this seems silly...I'm concerned with matters of my own well being here, so maybe there is no need to make contact. I wonder how "real" it will seem to forgive someone when I'm doing it for myself? Maybe this is another issue at the root of the problem; I have trouble forgiving because it comes down to the last word thing. I don't want to contact her. In order to forgive her, though, I need to get over the need to get the last word. I need to remember that having the last word is not the point. Moving on is the point. Letting go of the hurt is the point. Last word will get me nowhere.

___

In other news, we have indeed entered the month of suck...full force, as it were. This year the anniversary of Tiny Man's death seems a little easier. I still miss him. I still hate that this is an anniversary I would rather not deal with. I can't help, though, but be aware of how amazing my life is, and how much of that is due to his presence...as short as it was. I have amazing friends...a totally new circle of friends that are genuine, true...people I can count on. People that are willing to count on me. I have old friends that are comfortable, and new ones I'm so fortunate to have found. The new ones are a direct result of Tiny Man...they all have children with Down syndrome and I would have never met them if it weren't for my involvement in the DS community. They show me that friendship doesn't have to be hard, and it doesn't have to be dramatic. They have shown me that friendships don't have to be old to be good. They have shown me I am lucky. They have shown me that people don't have to be identical to like each other, care about each other, and be good friends...in fact it's more interesting when you're a little different. They miss Tiny Man too, and that is an enormous comfort. My old friends, the ones I've always known...they are checking up on me...reminding me they care. I'm lucky indeed.

This year I've chosen to try and remember Tiny Man positively. I'm remembering the good things, trying to do little things to spread the word and raise awareness for Down syndrome. It's still hard. It still hurts. There hasn't been a day this week I haven't cried. I'm sure it will get harder. He is so missed. He taught us so much.

So here's the thing

2010-02-02T15:01:00.000-05:00

It's not that it's all that hard to forgive, right? I mean, we do it a hundred times a day without thinking of it. My son dumps some eggs on the floor, I take a deep breath and we clean it up together. Sure, I'm annoyed, but in the grand scheme of things it doesn't really matter, right? Or someone cuts you off in traffic. You get angry, you get frustrated, you get over it.

For me, the issue with forgiveness really takes two forms. The first is it is hard to forgive when I feel I have been wronged and the other person won't take responsibility for it. The second is when an argument or incident is my fault, and leads to both of us being unfair, I feel bad and I have a hard time admitting I'm wrong. Both of these apply to my current situation.

See, I'm a last word girl. I like to be witty and clever. I have a burning sarcastic streak. Sometimes this works out well for me: being a last word person means that I like to communicate. I pride myself on being able to talk to different kinds of people about different kinds of things. Being a last word girl has its drawbacks, though, when you have been "wronged" (either in your perception or for real).

There are still things that are unresolved between my friend and I. There were things said in the argument and the subsequent back and forth on email (I know, I know....but it happened...so I'm owning it) that were hurtful. I was responsible for some of that hurt. So was she. It bothers me that I probably won't get an apology, ever. It bothers me that she probably doesn't think she did anything wrong. And it bothers me that even if I am willing to apologise for the way I hurt her, I won't get what I want out of it.

THIS....this is the crux of the issue.

What do I want? I want her to apologize. What do I need to do? Apologize for my own actions, and then MOVE ON. Whether I get an apology or not. MOVE ON. Put her down. Stop trying to be right. I need to apologize to make myself feel like I have mended the wrongs I did. I need to apologize with no expectation of getting an apology back. This is what has held me back for so long...I feel like I deserve something that I'm not getting...an apology. Some kind of admission of guilt from her. I want to know she feels bad.

Here's the thing though: I don't have any of that now. So if I don't get it when I apologize, I'm no better or worse off that I am now. So why not just go ahead and do it? I'll at least know that I have done my part, and I can move on to forgiving her and myself and live my life.

That wanting the last word thing, though? That's a powerful thing. It's not a great thing to admit about myself, but it's there. And I know that it's ridiculous. And I know it's getting in the way of my forgiving her.

Working on letting go. Working on putting her down. I'm working.

Why is it so hard?

2010-01-30T10:40:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking about forgiveness lately. A lot.

I read a parable a few months ago. I want to link to where I read it, but I can't remember the site, or the book, or whatever medium it was. I'm going to sum up and post it for you anyway, because it's relevant.

Two monks are walking together on a road. They meet a woman who is going the same way, and the three begin to walk together. The woman is really not a nice person. She's loud, boastful, and rude. She is mean to the monks. Still they walk on together. Eventually they come to a stream. The woman insists she is NOT crossing this river by herself. She demands that the monks carry her, and they do. One picks her up, the other picks up her stuff (which is a lot...she has a lot of stuff)...together they get her across the river. On the other side, they part ways with her...she stands shouting and degrading them as they leave.
After walking on for another hour, one monk turns to the other and says "I cannot believe you carried that woman across the river. She was so awful. She was so rude to you...and you did it anyway. She was the most horrible person I've ever met!" His companion turns to him and says "Brother, I put her down an hour ago. Why haven't you?"

I've retold this story many times over the past months, and part of that retelling is me trying to work out my own stuff. See, I strive to be a better person. I really try to do good things for others and for this world. The fact is, though...one thing I have never been able to change is the fact that I hold a grudge. I have the ability to stay mad at someone for so long it is ridiculous.

Honestly, most of the time I yell a little, recounting to Hubby what injustices have been done to me in a particular situation...then I'm over it. Maybe I'll tell a few other people and turn it into a good story.

I have one particular grudge, though, that I cannot let go of.

A few years ago I had a friend I was extremely close to. Without giving details, I will suffice it to say that our friendship didn't just fall apart, it exploded in an ugly way. We were drifting apart, it hurt, and then it turned ugly. The fault belongs to both of us; I have to say I did and said some things that really make me cringe now. I didn't handle it well.

But here's the thing: I can't let it go. I know I had a hand in the way things ended. I know that I could have handled the whole situation better. But all I can dwell on is how hurt I was...how I needed my friend and she chose that time to pull away and focus on other things...other friends...her own life (which was, truth be told, in turmoil). I was angry at her for not being there for me, angry at her for not letting me be there for her, and angry that our friendship, which I treasured, now seemed to mean nothing to her. I'm still angry. I'm still hurt. I want to let it go.

I know that letting this go means I need to forgive her for not being the friend I wanted, the friend I thought I had. I also know that letting go means I have to forgive myself for the same things...for not being the friend I aspire to be...for not being the person I aspire to be.

February is here...an online friend I have would refer to this as the "month of suck"...and I'm adopting that moniker from here on out. I hate february. I do. Hubby and I try to fill the month with positive things; things like family and friends and memories that make us smile. But the fact of the matter is that I cry every time I remember tiny man and how his death will always be linked to his birthday in my heart. It makes me angry.

So this year, the second anniversary of his death. The year he would have turned four. I'm going to try to be the person my son thought I was. Kind. Loving. Dedicated.

Forgiving.

I've decided that I have to put this friend down. I have to let her go. I've decided that I can't apply the lessons Tiny Man taught me in his short life when I'm letting anger and bitterness hold me back.

This is going to hurt.

Learning new things

2010-01-05T14:49:00.002-05:00

So I guess I'm crafty. I mean, that's what people tell me. Really, though? I need to make things for my sanity. It doesn't matter what I'm making, and I don't need to be the best at what I'm attempting, but I really do NEED to make things. I discovered this after Toast was born. I was so busy trying to manage two kids (one almost two year old and an infant, both having the mobility and verbal skills of an infant), I barely had time to shower. Even if I had wanted to make something...if I had one iota of time to myself? The craft room was packed up in tubs to make room for Toast...so there was nothing to make. I almost lost my mind. Sure, I was an olympic-sized pool of hormones at the time, but I'm sure that had nothing to do with it, right?

If we ever have another child, and that child moves into my craft room (like Toast did), I think I will just take over the dining room. I'll install shelves on one wall, drawers underneath, and big gate to keep the rest of the family out. Especially Toast....if not watched closely he will plunder all the craft supplies and run rampant with them. I'll find him playing pirate with a bone folder and a metal ruler. The gate idea will probably not work too well considering the staircase from the upstairs leads into the dining room, and the staircase downstairs to the family room leads off from the dining room. I'll have to keep working on this one.

I don't really think I'm a knitter, or a scrapbooker (although those are the two crafts I do the most of), or an embroiderer (which I also enjoy). I'm a crafter. I like to look at something and say "I can do that!" My husband, I think, has learned to fear those words. "I can do that" usually means hours of planning, talking about things he might not be interested in but should be supportive of (because he loves me, and I cook for him); sometimes this explanation is followed by some tense moments when I find out that I cannot, in fact, DO THAT...swearing usually ensues. The project gets buried in a box until I'm ready to look at it again or throw it away.

Taking all of this into consideration, I'm sure it was no small feat for him to agree to my Christmas gift: a sewing machine. Between the staggering supply of craft materials already in my possession, and the sheer number of projects I have on my to-do list, chaos can only ensue from adding another interest to the mix. But, brave man that he is, he soldiered on.

It is with some self-deprecating humor that I present to you my first sewing projects.

This marvelous piece of work is supposed to be a potholder. See the fabric strips? Those were a lovely and well-constructed log cabin quilt block that I made. It really turned out nicely. Then I had to go and try to quilt it. I left the feeder feet for the machine on and everything went downhill from there. Then I didn't have any seam binding and tried to make my own. Let's overlook the flaws and gaze upon the color selection, remember the way the initial block turned out. Yes, let's dwell on the positive. I think I'm going to give this to my mom, because it's a piece only a mother could love.

This is better. This tote bag is loosely based on a tutorial I found on Sew, Mama, Sew, which is a lovely sewing blog. The bag is a little more well constructed than the pot holder....the pocket is a little off center, but we'll ignore that and instead bask in the lovelyness. I'll find out how it works when I take it on a trip in a week and a half....if it's not as sturdy as I think it is, I'll surely find out when the bottom rips and dumps my things all over the terminal floor at Metro Airport.

Because that's the only way it will happen. You and I both know it.

Billy Joel, you had it right

2009-12-30T14:03:00.000-05:00

I went to a viewing at a funeral home yesterday. I don't like viewings. I think they are one of the most marvelously awkward situations a person can be put in. But I think it's necessary and right to go and talk to people when bad things happen. So I go.

The person in question yesterday is not someone I knew well at all. She is related (in a complicated way which is not pertinent to my story) to a man who is my uncle by marriage. She's not much younger than me, and I remember that as a child we would play often when I was at my aunt and uncle's house. I've seen her a handful of times in the past few years. She met Tiny Man at a family party, and also came to the funeral home and funeral when we said goodbye to him.

What strikes me and makes me feel this loss so deeply is how caring and how kind she was to me and to Tiny Man. The things she said to me after the funeral, in the few seconds I said hello to her, were among the most comforting and kindest things I heard that day. I was so very touched by her words. I was left with the impression that I had met few people in this world as caring as her. I was surprised not because I didn't think she had it in her, but because I hadn't seen her in so long; didn't know her very well at all, and here she was crying with me over my son. It stuck with me.

Her partner was diagnosed with a fatal illness earlier this year, and it is my understanding that she may not see the new year. They have a son, six years old, who will lose both parents to illness...sudden illness....in a short amount of time.

I am asking the obvious question: why?

I don't know why this is hitting me so hard, but I cannot stop thinking about the unpredictability of life, the way that it doesn't work out the way it's supposed to, and the way that it can be unfair. One of the things I hate about the holidays is that they can, and often do, bring out the worst in people. Stress, trying to live up to expectations we set for ourselves, dealing with family who we may not like: it can make someone crazy. You all know what I mean...you see it all the time in the woman who yells at the store clerk for no reason. The person who snips at you in line. Anyway....in the past few months I have seen and heard my share of drama. Some had to do with the holidays, some is just people who are selfish, egocentric, rude and classless. Do I think that they deserve to be the ones touched by tragedy instead of my friend? No, I wouldn't say that. But I do always wonder why people who seem to rise above it all...the ones who take life in stride...the ones who are kind and caring...why them instead? Because doesn't it always seem to be them?

I know that sounds terrible. And I know what it SOUNDS like I am saying...but really, it's hard for me to make sense of it. I'm not terribly religious, so I'm not going to get into the metaphysical side of all this, but I do think that there is an order and a reason to life. When Tiny Man was born we had a few people shake their heads and wonder aloud why hubby and I had to deal with this. My answer was and is always the same: because we were right for it. We love each other, we have families who love us and support us, and we were able to take care of him. We were right for him. We were picked. I'll never stop thinking that I was chosen to be his momma.

So is this the same? Is there a greater lesson here? Is there a reason for this tragedy? I don't know. I do know that I have learned some lessons about kindness and the way it touches other people, and I intend to put that to good use.

In the meantime, give an extra thought, whether it be a prayer or some warm energy, or just a moment of your day to these people, especially that little boy. He has family and will be well cared for...but my hope is that he has learned kindness and knows what kind of people his parents are and were. Let's hope that he grows up to be kind and strong.

On the longest night

2009-12-23T15:44:00.000-05:00

The past couple of years have made it clear to me that I am fond of "hunkering" when it gets cold. Long about November or so, I start making like a bear...getting ready to hibernate. I would be pretty happy, I think, if I could just order in all winter and hunker down in my house to wait out the cold and dark.

Monday was the winter solstice. The sun rose here (by my eye) after seven thirty in the morning, and set around four-ish. It always amazes me that this day is the turning point, because the months of January and February always SEEM the longest, darkest days to me....they are, however, well on the road back to the light.

I find myself more reflective in the winter time...and it seems natural. If you thin about life in general, when things happen they force us to take a good long look at life, it seems as if we are dealing, and dealing and dealing...things get darker and darker and darker, then we hit rock bottom. Thus begins the long road back or forward to wherever we will wind up. It parallels the solstice pretty neatly.

Christmas has been about many things for me in the past. Getting presents, giving presents. Trying to get presents on a budget so limited I wasn't sure how things would work out. Being able to give generously. Not being able to give at all. Being with family when I didn't want to be...not being with them when I needed to be. This year it's all about the hunkering. I don't want to be out shopping, hustling, bustling; getting all riled up at the marvelously stupid and insensitive people in this world. Complaining about everything I have to do. I want to hunker down, with some hot beverage, my Toast and my Hubby. Watch some movies. Do a little baking and crafting. Hang out with my parents and my remarkably hilarious and talented sister on the 25th. Wrap gifts in secret and listen to carols while I do it. Sit back and watch my amazing boy and listen to what he has to tell me.

And after Christmas, I will take the time in the darkest part of the year to think about where I want to be in the future. What I can do with my life. I will take time to plan out what I want this year to be like. I will remember my Tiny Man. I will probably cry more than once because I miss him so damn much...I do this a lot. In the winter, though, the time to think is more plentiful.

Happy Solstice. Merry Christmas. Be thankful, be loving, be thoughtful.

Update

2009-12-12T22:34:00.000-05:00

I'm taking a weekend facebreak (tech break...need them now and then) but since I'm popping in, there is an update to the Hospice situation.

Hubby has been calling on this one. He talked to Hospice yesterday. Seems that in April '08 (two months after Tiny Man's death), insurance paid Hospice.

In April '09, they requested the money back, saying Tiny Man had gone over his maximum lifetime benefit. We think this is a max. benefit for Hospice care, but we're not sure.

Let me repeat:

Insurance took money back. From a hospice. A pediatric hospice.

The amount? $283 and change.

Pick your jaw up off the floor.

I am so disgusted by this. It's not even a huge amount of money. Not at all. And a year....A YEAR after payment, they took. the. money. back.

Our system is broken.

off the cuff

2009-12-10T13:21:00.000-05:00

I probably need to calm down before I write this, but if I can't vent to the blog, who's left?

We have been lucky to have good insurance (disclaimer: this is NOT post about health reform....I'm purposely staying away from that until I HAVE calmed down). We were very very fortunate that with Tiny Man and all of his issues, despite some heated phone calls with insurance, we did not have to pay for much of his care. I know I am one of the lucky ones, and I can assure you that when I count my blessings, health insurance is near the top. Considering all we've been through, we've had a remarkably easy time.

That having been said, there are some things that have irritated me to no end. A few months after Tiny man was born we recieved a bill from Children's Hospital for some of his care. I knew it should be covered, but there were some issues since we had switched insurances from mine to Hubby's (when I decided to stay home my benefits were suspended, as I was "on leave" for two years). It took SIX MONTHS and I don't know how many phone calls to insurance and to Detroit to sort it all out. It wound up okay.

When we started therapy at a private clinic to help Tiny Man develop properly (Physical Therapy and Occupational therapy is common in children with Down syndrome), there were so many loopholes it made my head spin. Do you know that most insurances will not pay for Physical Therapy for children with Down syndrome, because DS is incurable? Therefor, they think they'll be paying for life (more $$ out of their pocket). This even though therapy is PROVEN to help children with DS lead normal lives, and many will not need it after ages three or four. Anyway, there was some careful tracking, careful wording on prescriptions, and careful careful evaluation speech to make it happen. Could we have paid for it out of pocket? Not as much as he needed, we couldn't.

Since Tiny man passed, we've been receiving Explanation of Benefit statements from our insurance saying that things were paid or not paid. We've received several saying that they did not pay hospice for the last two days of Tiny Man's life.

Let me amend that. It wasn't really two days. It was EIGHTEEN HOURS. Six pm on 2/13/08 to twelve oh six pm on 2/14/08. Eighteen hours and six minutes.

I guess hospice got sick of arguing with them, because today we got a bill.

I don't blame hospice. It isn't an astronomical amount of money. It's less than we spent on Christmas gifts. We can pay it, thankfully. They do good work and they should be paid.

But I"m angry.

I'm just angry at a system that is charging me for what is very obviously the last eighteen hours of my child's life. Any person could look through the billing history at the insurance company and figure out what's going on. But they won't. They haven't. They just said no.

I'm so angry, and part of me doesn't know who to be angry at.

TWO

2009-12-08T15:07:00.000-05:00

A simple happy birthday to my Toast...my big two year old boy.

It's hard to look at your blond curly head and remember you as the ten and a half pound baby that was born only two years ago.

What I'm doing today

2009-12-03T15:26:00.002-05:00

IMG_4791
Originally uploaded by randallfam

Making these tiny mitten ornaments for Toast's friends. They are based on a pattern I found on the website "Oliver + S". I modified the pattern slightly, as the original had fabric cuffs...I used felt. I'm smitten with them.

Let's be clear here...

2009-12-03T09:58:00.000-05:00

...the following post in no way reflects things I feel MUST be done in order for Christmas to occur. It reflects things I WANT to do. I like making things for the holidays, and Toast's birthday (next week), and I have some wonderful plans...but it doesn't change the fact that things are starting to pile up on me. Witness my to-do list:
1. I have two knitting projects left for gifts. One is half done, the other not started. Both will only take a few hours to finish.
2. I'm making favors for Toast's birthday celebrations/gifts for his buddies...and they are cute. But I"m making TEN of them. I'll be posting a picture soon of what I"m making. I think it's safe to say his friends dont' read the blog.
3. Banner for Toast's birthday celebrations. It's half done. I'm cutting parts out on the Cricut, which means I can't do it during naptime, unless I move the whole operation out of the craftroom and downstairs. That makes it a little interesting...crafting with an awake two year old.
4. Cupcakes for Sunday/Tuesday (birthday)
5. Small homemade gifties for our friends (mine and Hubby's). Hubby will help with this. Chocolate is a component, which makes the shopping tricky. Can't buy the chocolate until I'm ready to bake, or it will be eaten. I'm just being honest here.
6. Christmas cards. They're made, printed, just need to be addressed and sent. I'm sure that I CAN print labels for the envelopes, but figuring it out will be harder than just writing them, right? Maybe Hubby can do this. And then there's all the addresses that arent' in the computer and must be added....the address thing is the reason I hate Christmas cards. HATE.
7. And when all this is done...when next week is over...we can put up the decorations and relax.

I love how some people think handmade holidays are so much simpler....away from the hustle and bustle, the malls. Lies, I tell you, all lies.

recap

2009-12-01T14:09:00.000-05:00

Just a moment to rethink the past month...NaBloPoMo, which I undertook again...trying to get back in the habit of writing, out of my rut...how did that go?

I'm not going to say that trying to post every day made everything in my life better. There are still things I've written about this month that I'm struggling with. If I said anything different, I would expect you all to aim fire extinguishers at my pants. It does feel good, though, to be writing again. I get stuck in this blogging rut where I'm thinking "I can't write about that...my dad reads this!" and pretty soon, that applies to everything I want to write about...even the most benign of topics. Then I stop writing. Then I feel guilty, then my head explodes.

It's messy.

Getting back in the habit of blogging more often helps me work things out. Helps me think about where I'm going and what I'm doing. Helps me remember to write...that it's theraputic, healthy, and keeps life interesting. I thank those of you who told me this month that you were glad my blog was back...it makes me feel good. I guess I"ll keep writing now. :)

Oh, wow

2009-11-29T18:24:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I have to say that one of the great joys in life, if you're a cook, is good stock. I mean good beef, chicken or veggie stock that you make yourself. It's like liquid gold. I think I make pretty good stock...and I always have some in the freezer...I use it for everything.

After Thanksgiving, and after we eat a roasted chicken, I love to make pot pie. My mom always made it, and it's one of the great comfort foods to me...warm, rich and yummy. And biscuits! Who doesn't love biscuits?

I've been fooling around trying to find the perfect recipe for Turkey pot pie...the kind made from leftover turkey from Thanksgiving....using the stock that you make the day after. Today I tried the Pioneer Woman's recipe and I have to say...it's like cooking perfection. It's warm, it has a good thick gravy, and it tastes perfect: nothing fancy...no weird chipotle gravy or anything else. Just a good, sturdy pot pie-type stew. Do yourself a favor and make it today...make a lot of it....we just ate ourselves silly!

Thanksgiving Twenty

2009-11-26T09:36:00.001-05:00

I read this on a blog this morning, and it seemed like a good way to get my blog post in today. The turkey is on and cooking, and we're finishing up the cleaning. Happy gobble, everyone.

Do you cook all or part of the meal?

Depends on the year, this one's mine. I cook half the meal, and everyone brings something.

How much do you spend buying groceries for the meal?

Usually it matters to me what we spend in a week on Groceries. For Thanksgiving, I don't care.

Do you eat at home or go to someone else's?

Every year or two we switch off with my Mother in Law.....She had two years in a row though, so this is my second year in a row.

Describe your perfect bite?
STUFFING. Oh Lord I love stuffing.

White meat or dark?
dark

Stuffing with giblets or without?

Without

Anything you won't eat at the Thanksgiving meal?
Are you kidding me? No. I eat everything. It's the one day of the year I eat everything.

Carve Mr. Gobble at the table or serve on a platter?
Platter

Favorite pie?
Apple!

Formal table or Chinet?

I always use the china...I love using the china. And cloth napkins. And place cards. I love a formal table.

Your menu?

Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn casserole, beans canned from this summer, rolls from Great Harvest Bread company (yum!), salad, maybe brussels sprouts if I remember to make them. :) And Pie. Always pie.

Favorite leftover?
Stuffing!!!!!!!

Extended family, friends, both or just immediate family for dinner?
It depends on the year, but we have both sets of parents and whatever sisters are in town every year, regardless of where we are. Our families do thanksgiving together.

After dinner, do you go to the latest movie or football on TV?

Movies!

Do you watch the Macy's parade?

In Detroit? Are you kidding me? No. We ALWAYS watch the Detroit parade. :)

Christmas decorations up before or after?

I used to do it the day after, but I made a vow when Toast was born that I would NOT let holidays intrude on his birthday; so now we wait until after his Birthday on Dec. 8.

Black Friday shopping or sleep in?

HAHAHAHAHA. I always say I wouldn't be caught dead at a store on Black Friday....but you know what we do? We go OUTLET SHOPPING!!!!!. So completely crazy. Then we go here to buy Toast his ornament and take in the sights.

Any special Thanksgiving tradition?

My dad always goes to the Lion's game. Always. The first year I did a full Thanksgiving in our first real house, he skipped it....that taught me that people are sometimes more important than tradition.
That being said, I am really proud to report that every year our turkey is walking on Tuesday and on the table Wednesday.

Favorite thing about Thanksgiving?

I love having all of our family around.....we're all crammed in like sardines at dinner and we have a great time!

Favorite Thanksgiving memory?

So many....there isn't one that really sticks out. I remember marching in the parade one year with my dog and my 4-H club. My dog chose the middle of Woodward, right in front of the judge's stand to take a dump. I wished the street would swallow me up. Good memory? I love making new traditions at Thanksgiving now that I'm married with kids. We always celebrated Thanksgiving when I was young, but it wasn't a huge deal in my family the way it is in some. I like to make our own day.

Happy Thanksgiving!

the countdown

2009-11-25T22:44:00.000-05:00

It's begun...the bird is brining, the corn casserole is already done....the stuffing has begun (all chopped)... we eat so differently on Thanksgiving than on any other day of the year....but I look forward to tasty dishes and a little "cheating" as the time gets closer.
So tired...so much still to do.

hee hee

2009-11-24T21:44:00.000-05:00

Just found out that the Muppets have a whole lot of new stuff on YouTube, and it's pretty quality too. Check it out here.

Consider me ruffled

2009-11-23T14:26:00.000-05:00

I guess it was bound to happen. We get more connected via Facebook and Twitter, and we are exposed to a greater number of opinions.

I don't need to agree with everything all of my friends and acquaintences think....what a boring life. But is it so wrong of me to think that people should actually KNOW WHAT THEY ARE TALKING ABOUT before they go shooting their mouths off?

I have seen several posts on Facebook over the past couple of days, all by friends who do not care for the President or his policies, blaming him for the new recommendation that women not get mammograms until they are fifty.

Okay, so I don't like this new decision regarding women's health either. It's a post for another time, but I think it's crazy. But I just wish people would do their homework, figure out who to blame, THEN launch into their tirade....not blame it on a president they already don't like, just because they can.

Like the President....don't like him. That's your right as a citizen; but for the love of God don't make yourself look ignorant by not doing your homework.

A few things

2009-11-22T23:04:00.000-05:00

I'm pretty sure that you haven't noticed....edit....I'm pretty much hoping you haven't noticed...that I signed on for this whole NABLOPOMO thing again this year and I've missed a whopping four days in a row. It goes like this...sometime in October, our entire household came down with the piggy plague and ever since then I've done nothing but contract illnesses....small ones, large ones. I've been sick for a month. This past week I battled my third sinus infection and finally called the doctor after moaning on the couch all day Thursday. (This is fun with a two year old...try it!). Anyway....blogging fell to "low" on the priority list...even with the whole "but you PROMISED" thing hanging over my head. I'm over it.

A few thoughts about today:
-Started and completed several items off the "make felt food for Toast" project for Christmas. Felt food is just as addictive and cute as I thought it would be. Pictures tomorrow.
-We took a trip to IKEA today, where we spent approximately $60 on things that all cost 2.99 each and have unpronounceable names with lots of Umlauts. I've written about this phenomenon before. Yes, they still have tasty, tasty buns. Damn them.
-Since I've been sick for four days my house looks like a bomb went off. I have 10 people coming over for dead bird in three days. Oh lord.

Regular blogging now in full force.

Right now

2009-11-17T21:47:00.001-05:00

Right now we're trying to figure out how to finagle purchasing two tickets to see U2 at the Breslin Center next June. Spartans get a presale starting tomorrow!!!!
Today:
* Toast received his H1N1 vaccine
* Toast ALSO got a piece of candy after said vaccine. I told him he could have the candy after lunch. The next hour, before lunch, was spent repeating "after lunch" every thirty seconds, after "candy please".
* I made our Christmas cards
* I ordered a Christmas present online
* I ordered envelopes for our cards online
* I cleaned the kitchen
* I made dinner.

Sometimes it's more of the same, but at the end of the day I always feel like I accomplished something.

Handy?

2009-11-16T21:42:00.003-05:00

In case you haven't heard, there are a lot of people out there that are taking the Handmade Holidays pledge...that is, they are vowing to make gifts, or support others by purchasing handmade gifts from local crafters, Etsy, and other small businesses that rely on making and selling. I'm not going to be making ALL my holiday gifts this year, but I'm doing quite a few...and I have a few side projects as well. The difference between this year and last year is that I"m actually doing pretty well on checking things off my to-do list....instead of furiously working until the last minute and crossing things off because there is NO WAY I'll ever get to them.

Cases in point: hat, mittens for adorable niece: done. Hat, mittens for adorable nephew: done. Hat, mittens for another adorable family member: DONE! (I'm on a roll, I can feel it). December Daily scrapbook: completed and waiting for December (more on this in an upcoming post). Home made lemon vodka: brewing. I still have to make some felt food for Toast (he's getting a kitchen for Christmas and a bunch of felt food to cook in it).

There is still Christmas cooking to be done, which will be a baking and assembling project for our friends....Hubby and I will work on this together in early to mid December. There are holiday cards to make (I'm making them on the computer and sending them to be developed as 4x6 pictures....) that has to be done soon. I hear naptime tomorrow calling that project's number. There are treat bags for Toast's birthday festivities. There is the possibility of another knitting project; a hat/mitten/scarf set for another family member...it all depends on time and right now time is good!

I'm not halfway done, but some large and time-consuming projects have taken shape in a way that makes me happy. That counts for a lot!

Maybe that crafty mojo isn't gone after all. :)

What I did today

2009-11-15T18:25:00.005-05:00

This weekend was devoted to figuring out what we'll do to celebrate Toast's second birthday. With the size of our house (small-ish) the number of people we want to help us celebrate (large-ish), and the areas they live in (spread-out-ish), it's a little tricky to figure out this birthday thing. Reason number 43 to have a child in the spring or summer: outdoor birthday parties! Plan accordingly!

So we're having a variety of celebrations, ranging from Toast's favorite dinner at home with Hubby and I on his actual birthday, to a big family celebration at my Mom's house, which is ostensibly for Toast, but also for the other December birthdays. There are a few cousins who LOVE to get mail, LOVE Toast, and still love a good party....so I decided to send them each invitations (even though we had already done the family phone tree invite to all the parents). In addition to them, we are inviting a few of Toast's friends from the neighborhood over for cake. Some invitations were in order!

Here's what I came up with:

I downloaded a digital scrapbook kit from Designer Digitals (www.designerdigitals.com) called "Men at Work" and all the artwork is from that. The cards and envelopes are all purpose single sided cards with matching envelopes that I buy in bulk at Target. I use these for EVERYTHING, and they are great.
I'm feeling a bit smug about my skills today.

Oh how we age

2009-11-14T17:20:00.002-05:00

So I'm going out to dinner tonight with my girls. Last week we decided we would do dinner and a movie, but then decided to do dinner at seven...I figured a movie was out because...well, who wants to see a movie that late?

I'm so old and lame.

We're going to a ten pm show...let's hope I don't snore before the closing credits.

Reasons why

2009-11-12T16:40:00.001-05:00

Not like I need reasons, but here's an example of why I love my kid so darn much. He snuggles up to me, on the couch and launches into "HI MOMMA HI!" which he repeats about ten times in succession. I laugh and say "hi" and "I love you". He looks right at me with those adorable blue eyes and says "I missed you too, mama".
Who cares if he gets it mixed up (he's been with me all day every day)...it's just cute.

short and sweet

2009-11-11T13:49:00.000-05:00

Thank you, veterans.

backdated

2009-11-10T23:49:00.000-05:00

Nov. 10: Fever: 102 Aches Chills

Didn't we just get over the plague in this house?

More thinking

2009-11-09T13:47:00.003-05:00

...a continuation from yesterday.
"Where are you going?"

THIS. This is a question I'm struggling with right now.

I started college thinking I wanted to be a Veterinarian. I thought I had it figured out...I had spent time around animals, I had worked at an animal hospital in High School...I really thought I was going in with my eyes open. At the end of my Freshman year, I decided that being a Vet was not going to be for me. To this day, I have no idea why I made that choice.

I explored a lot of other things. I knew I wanted to stay in the Sciences, but didn't know what that meant. Thought about Forestry and Natural Resources really hard. In the end, I majored in Biology, minored in Chemistry and History, and went into Teaching.

Now, I'm not going to tell you that the very first day I walked into a classroom I knew it was for me, but that was very close to what happened. I fell in love with teaching...I really really enjoyed it. I was lucky enough to get a job right out of school, and spent the next nine years loving every second of my job.

Once I got married, though, things started to feel strange. I still loved it, and I think I was pretty good at it...but the work, the constant paperwork, the long hours, the fact that there is ALWAYS more to do and NEVER enough time to do it...that really started to get to me.

I realize now that I am home that I would never have been able to be the teacher I wanted to be (the teacher I was) and the mom I want to be had I kept teaching. It makes me a little sad, but it's true. The question I am asking myself is this: will it always be true? I plan to go back to work when Toast starts Kindergarten, and I worry about that time commitment. I am excited by other options, I am seeing that although I love teaching, it might not always be my only love.

Does it make me a failure if I change my career in the middle of the stream? What does it mean when you are 36 and you still don't know what to do? I have always looked with distain on people who never "figure it out"...people who go from one thing to another like bees in a flower garden. Now I kind of wonder if I'm missing something by not allowing myself to look at the world that way.

My parents (and their parents) did what most people in those generations did: they got a job, and worked at it, then retired. I know that this is often not the way things go now, but it still doesn't feel like the responsible, adult thing to do to be reconsidering my career options now that I have a family. Aren't I supposed to be settling down and working, saving, getting to retirement?

Won't I get there anyway?

This has been on my mind a lot lately, often to the exclusion of other things. Hubby and I have had a few discussions about it, but not nearly the length and breadth of discussion that would be involved if I decided to pursue something else. It's something I'm still figuring out, and talking about it makes me, well, a little scared.

I don't want to do anything that makes me feel like I'm missing out on what I could experience. Sometimes that thought seems so immature, though. I struggle with this process, these thoughts.

A thinking prompt

2009-11-08T13:48:00.001-05:00

“The simplest questions are the most profound.

Where were you born?
Where is your home?
Where are you going?
What are you doing?

Think about these once in a while and watch your answers change.”
-Richard Bach
I stumbled across this little prompt on a Blog I read, and it seemed perfect...I've been thinking about these things lately as well.
Specifically, I've been thinking about how I DOCUMENT things in my life like change, home, family, goals, and the past. I always think about these things as the seasons change, but it seems that this year the topic is especially fresh. I think that I have reached the stage in my grief for Tiny Man that I've started to really assess how he changed my life and how I live it.
I'm thinking about the change of seasons and how much HOME has come to mean to me. When I was "coming up" I never in a million years thought that I would be a homemaker. My mom did it all, raised us, worked, she and my dad built a house together, and she did such a good job. (Because he's reading...yeah, dad, you are great too, but not so much a female roll model, eh?) Anyway, I always thought I would do the same. I would work, raise kids, make a home. One of the first things I realized after making the decision to stay home with Tiny Man is that I would NEVER have been able to do it all. Some people can, and they do a marvelous job. It's just not in me. Part of it is the job, teaching, it is very demanding. Raising kids, obviously, is also very demanding. For the first time in my life I am starting to understand what it means to prioritize the big things, and realize what the big things are.
There are some cliche'd examples of recognizing the "big things" in our lives. My favorite has always been the idea of rocks in a jar....if you have several rocks to put in a jar, put the big ones in first, they determine what else will fit...then move on to the smaller rocks (which fit in between the larger ones) and the sand to fill in the cracks. When we're younger we hear things like this and it never sinks in...part of that whole "invincible" thing, I guess.

What I've realized is that for me, success in life means not doing everything, but doing the things that I choose to do really really well. To me, that means that I can't do too much at one time.

I still struggle with the decision to leave work and stay at home. There are days I question if what I'm doing matters. But when I get a glimpse of what really makes me happy, what really makes me tick, I see that this choice is the only one that makes sense for me.

"helpful"

2009-11-07T18:24:00.003-05:00

Took a quick trip to Michael's today to get some Christmas scrapbook supplies. As if I don't have enough scrapbook supplies.

Anyway.

The plan was for me to do Michael's with Toast, and for Hubby to go to Home Depot (known as "Home Despot" in our house)...Hubby actually needed to do some investigating and asking for help at the Despot, which is better accomplished without a Toast in tow.

So there I am, in Michael's...Toast has started a constant whine which is neverending, unceasing, and interspersed with some verbiage that I'm still not clear about, meaning wise. It goes something like this.

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh mamamamamamamama pODGHKCgpoingdkagnoeb;achklsek eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

That one last nerve that gets me to Saturday? Yeah, it's slowly PING-ing away, like a rope breaking all it's fibers in a Bugs Bunny cartoon.

We checkout, and since most stores think that you need ten receipts (one receipt that is approximately 10 meters long, accompanied by three coupons, two advertisements, four circulars, and assorted partridges in pear trees), I'm attempting to stuff all that paper in my wallet. There is, of course, a line. And out of one ear all I can hear is this:

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh mamamamamamamama pODGHKCgpoingdkagnoeb;achklsek eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

....droning on at the approximate volume and key of a lawn mower heard from three streets away at seven in the morning on a sunday after a long night.

Not that I know what that sounds like.

So my bag is sitting on the counter, waiting for me to grab it. And I haven't gone anywhere (because I'm still stuffing). The gentleman behind me picks up my bag, nudges my elbow, and stands there with it in his hand.

The bag is now at the same level and station it was before, only having been moved about one food to the left and held by an actual human hand. The human hand sends a message: PICK UP YOUR BAG, LADY, AND GET OUT OF THE WAY SO MY WIFE CAN CHECK OUT.

I look at the man, and trying to be nice (didn't he notice the flames shooting out of my ears?), I say to him "thank you, I'll get that in a moment"

"I'm just trying to be helpful!" he says.

I take a deep breath, and all I say is thank you. Sometimes I don't have enough patience for my son and the rest of the world. This is one of those times. I've found it's better, in situations like this, just to say thank you and not read any further into the situation.

But really, if this ever happens to you...if you are that man? PICKING UP THE BAG DOES NOT HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Reminders

2009-11-06T21:14:00.002-05:00

Sometimes things happen, I'm reminded of things, that make me understand how Tiny Man touched so many many people. I had a moment like that today.

It helps someone dealing with Grief to know that they are not alone...but we all know that it sounds false, empty and...well...lame when we start to talk about loss to those who are grieving. So find something meaningful...tell that person how their loved one affected you. Do something real. Make it matter.

They won't be able to express how thankful they are, but they will be. And when the bad days hit, it WILL make them remember that they aren't alone.

sharing

2009-11-05T14:13:00.003-05:00

So a few months ago I got a letter from our Pediatric Hospice...the one that helped us take care of Tiny Man. They are starting (have started) an outreach program to explain what they do to the medical professionals, parents, and community that the come in contact with.

See, when you say someone is "with Hospice" or "on Hospice"...no one really knows what that means. I think that most of us understand that it means someone is dying. Does that mean that Hospice helps them? Cares for them? What if it's a family that doesn't have anyone else? What if it's a family that has...well...everyone they could possibly need?

I made a scrapbook about our journey with Hospice, and I wanted to share it here; mostly because it's something I'm very proud of (I think people who know me are sick of seeing and hearing about it). You can see the actual pages on my Flickr page starting here. The pages uploaded backwards, so the first page of the scrapbook appears last.....

So here is the journaling that explains what Hospice did for us:

______

Our son ** was diagnosed in-utero with Down syndrome and two cardiac defects. While the heart defects were not rare alone, they had been seen together less than twenty times. We spent the months leading up to his birth preparing for a high-risk delivery at Hutzel Hospital, and possible surgery after his birth.

After B was born we found out that he actually had three cardiac defects: a Truncus Arteriosis type I, Coarctation of the Aorta, and Complete AV Canal defect. In addition to this, his heart was slightly smaller in some areas, making fixing the defects a very tricky call indeed.

After discussing the options for surgery, and finding that B had very little chance of making it through surgery, much less living with a good quality of life afterwards; and finding that surgery would not guarantee a significantly longer life, we decided to enroll B in a pediatric hospice program, take him home, and live whatever time he had to it’s fullest extent.

Meeting with Hospice, planning for an end, is not what new parents expect. We didn’t even know what hospice was.

Hospice, as we found out, is family. They care for their patients medically, but it is so much more than that.

Illness, sickness, surprise, death, surgery, defect. These are the words new parents do not want to hear. Should never hear.

Hospice brought us normalcy. They emphasized that we had control. We had B. They did not dwell on fear, pain, suffering or the very real eventuality of B’s death. They encouraged us to live with our son, and to love him. They helped us bond with him in a very normal fashion.

We had power that had been taken from us when B was born “sick”. We were taught how to marvel at the little things new parents do, and forget the nightmare.

Doctors told us our son might, with luck, live two weeks.

Two weeks.

Together with Hospice, we knew B’s health was taken care of, and we were able to build memories of our son without being afraid; without being reminded of what was ahead.

But then we learned that B had other plans for his life and the people in it.
After two weeks had passed, B was just being B…living.
After three weeks, he was still here.

At one month, his doctor told us he was stable, static, and nothing had changed

At three months, we had him evaluated by Early On in our School System.

At seven months, he started physical and occupational therapy.

Two days before his first birthday, a birthday Ben was never supposed to see, he was discharged from hospice.

Then the fun began

B LIVED.

 We took him birding, camping, hiking. He was showered with love. He met his entire family at family reunions. He went to school. He flirted with girls. He received therapy to help with the effects of his Down syndrome. He attended Christmas parties, weddings, funerals for friends, picnics. He went Trick or Treating. Twice.

In short…life was NORMAL.

Hospice gave us that gift.

We could have been afraid to do any of these things. We could have stayed in our house, worried that B would get sick. Worried that he was too frail.

Instead, we were taught that it was okay to be normal. B taught us to be brave, and strong, and to love the world and people in it; even in the face of enormous uncertainty.
On December 8, 2007 we welcomed B’s brother T into the world.
After T’s birth, B contracted one respiratory illness after another.
On February 20, after yet another visit to the pediatrician to deal with yet another runny, sneezy, sniffly day, we were told that B was in Organ failure.

Hospice was called on the way home, and they were at our house in less than two hours.

It was like they picked right back up; like they had never left.

We said goodbye to B less than 24 hours later, on Valentine’s day 2008. It was exactly one week before his second birthday.

In the hours, days, and weeks that followed, Hospice helped us with every last detail, from the nightmare of notifying the police of a death in our home, to planning the funeral, to walking back into an empty house.

They still visit with us occasionally, as we learn to navigate life without one of our guiding stars.

B’s life could have been full of
Anger
Blame
Argument
Uncertainty
Misunderstanding
Hospitals
Surgeries
Sterility
Sadness
Fear
Low expectations

Instead, B lived a life of
Nature
Home
Laughter
Love
Family
Friends
Learning
Playdates
Adventure
Certainty
And Miracles

Our whole family owes a debt to Walk With Me. They gave us the power to LIVE with our son, not wait for his death. In addition, that life was one of dignity.

So was B’s death.

Grief is never an experience one “gets over”, but when a parent loses a child, that grief is so very different, so much darker and more painful.

B has been gone a year and a half, and sometimes we behave as if he’s still here. Walk With Me gets that. They understand. Other people in our life, though filled with compassion, will never understand.

Hospice is like family. We would never have the many memories we have without them and what they did for us. We would not have been able to lift ourselves out of the initial bad news and bad scenario without them.

Thank you will never be enough.

______

If I could hug our hospice every day for the rest of my life, it is a task that I would happily undertake. Those people are angels, and they work magic. I owe our comfort and sanity, and the many memories we were able to make with our son to them.

So next time you hear about someone being taken home and put on Hospice, please know that they are living; and yes, dying, with dignity, respect, love, and family. They are the lucky ones who will not know fear of death.

We should all be so lucky.

Responsibilities

2009-11-04T13:15:00.002-05:00

Something odd and heartbreaking happened in our house about a month ago...

Years ago, I was "not living" with a boyfriend (yes, that means what you think it does....but that's another story) and we acquired a cat. "We" being a very loose term meaning I didn't want one and he did and it lived at my apartment and then moved with me and became mine. So for the past thirteen years I've had this cat. He saw me through some really tough times...my first real job, tailspin of depression as I learned to adjust to life and work and being on my own. The demise of relationship with abovementioned boyfriend.

When we had Tiny Man, we had some issues with the cat....it was to be expected. Someone coming in on his turf and all. There was some peeing. There was some crankiness. Ultimately we wound up spending a little more time with him and it solved the problem.

The past two years have been tough, though. Tas (the cat) got older, slower, and a little more antisocial. Toast came into our lives. Tiny Man went out of our lives. Then the inappropriate peeing began, and I started to slowly lose my mind.

We tried everything. We cleaned, we spent more time with him. We changed his diet. One day he actually peed ON hubby (you can laugh...we're at a point where we can laugh about it now). In short, it got ugly. We took him to the vet to find out that there was nothing "wrong" with him, it was all behavioral. We blocked off areas....then the new areas, then more areas. We put him on Valium.

Nothing worked.

In the end, yes, we had him put down. The issue here is not that I believe it wasn't necessary (it was), or that he didn't have a good life (he did, and was 16 when we made this decision). It's the immense guilt I feel over making the decision, knowing that he was still functional, moving, eating, living. His life became my choice. I feel as if I turned into one of those people who rushes to get a pet as they get married, then the kid comes and WHOOPS...that pet was a bad idea after all, lets get rid of it. People who do not understand the consequences of adopting a pet really REALLY bother me.

On the other hand, the fact that he was using our house as a litterbox tells me that something wasn't quite right after all. It is also immensely unsanitary for Toast to be playing around all this. So while I know the decision was the right one, it doesn't change the fact that the guilt persists.

I'm not late, you are

2009-11-04T09:10:00.003-05:00

We're going to pretend that, instead of 9:11 on a Wednesday, it's actually still Tuesday. That way this post isn't late. See? Play along at home, friends. ;)

Just wanted to post pictures of a few scrapbook layouts I did at a retreat a few weeks ago. Since I get a lot of inspiration from scrapbook blogs and books, I'm trying to be better about sharing my work, which means I am trying to stop comparing what I do to what other people do and just be happy with preserving my own memories.

Anyway.

There isn't too much to say about the first, other than I am sort of fond of it. The second is the one I really like. It's a layout that probably won't be seen too much: one of both boys together, at roughly the same age. The journaling at the top says : "Brothers: 20 months apart. Pictures: 22 months apart. Cheese - Always fresh!" I was looking through some pictures of Tiny Man and realized that Toast's new desire to smile the cheesiest grin possible was something they shared. I love having these two pictures side by side....it's not often I see how much my boys resemble each other.

An aside: maybe I should make it a goal of NaBloPoMo to learn how to take better pictures of my work and not spend ten minutes trying to upload them to the blog. Just a thought.

Crafty

2009-11-02T13:53:00.003-05:00

One thing I found out when Toast was born was how important it is to my well being to MAKE something whenever possible. I'm not saying that every day needs to be a craft bonanza, but I enjoy making things with my hands...knitting, scrapbooking, creating in general. Before Toast I had the third bedroom in our house set up as a craft room, and when he came a long it all got boxed up and set aside. Sure, it was still around, but harder to get to. And with a baby and an almost-two-year-old, there weren't a whole lot of opportunities to get stuff out and be creative. Since losing Tiny Man, I've set up shop again in his room. Having the option to go make something when I want to is very theraputic.

Part of this whole "stuck" thing is that I don't really feel like I have any mojo. I have lots of scrapbook pages that I finished at a recent retreat, and some are still waiting for finishing touches. I want to take pictures and post them. I want to finish up some last pictures, thinking if I just get all "CAUGHT UP" then I will be able to move on and create stuff that has to do with life right now.

All this is just excuse. Saying "I can't do this until I've finished this" is another excuse for me to make for things not being perfect. I've realized over the past few years that I have trouble accepting that things are finished, and yet I'm not comfortable with things in process. If something isn't finished, I rush to make it done. If something is finished, I can't help thinking about all of it's flaws.

I'm sure there's a larger life lesson here, and one can look at it positively or negatively: we are unfinished because we are meant, throughout our lives, to be learning, growing, and "finishing" ourselves off. On the other hand, there are some of us who will never be happy with the way things are, finished or not.

All this to say that in addition to the writing on this blog, I"m trying to get past my "block" by purposefully creating. I'm knitting again....seems that things that have a definite beginning and end satisfy the creating part, and will hopefully help me past the mental block I'm experiencing. Maybe just by creating SOMETHING, anything, it will help.

So the Christmas knitting has begun, and it's going very well....since I have a lot to think about, I knit while I think and everything goes more smoothly. I try to set realistic goals on holiday creativity...I don't want to get bogged down in all the things I have to make and lose the pleasure in making and giving them. I can't show off everything I"m making, but I have almost completed Hat and Mitten sets for my niece and nephew (all done except for one mitten...pictures to come), a pair of mittens for an undisclosed receipient, and I'm beginning a hat and sweater (okay, the sweater is for me, but still). I"m also making some felt food for Toast.

And these !! I think these are SUCH a fun idea....I have plans for this idea...big plans. :)

And since we're at it. I'm looking at designing our own photo Xmas card this year (more on that to follow, also)... What did I just say about trying to keep the level of production down? Yeah, forget that.

Stuck

2009-11-01T15:48:00.002-05:00

Does this happen to everyone? I feel a little stuck....as in "not getting anywhere in life". No inspiration to do things I enjoy, no joy out of doing them. I'm going to try NaBloPoMo again this year in hopes that the writing itself will help me regain a little direction and get me back on track. I must admit, it's a little daunting to make the commitment to write every day when I am so blatantly NOT keeping track of what needs to be done...I'm hoping that the pressure to post every day will make me JUST WRITE and eventually something will come of it. I mean, after all, if an infinite number of Monkeys could do it.......

Pointless?

2009-08-21T22:00:00.001-05:00

Sometimes I have to do it. I open the files on my computer with Tiny Man's movies and I watch them both, all the way through. Then I move on to the home videos. It just helps, when I have some time, to remember him. It still hurts so much.

Adrift

2009-08-05T14:54:00.003-05:00

Dear Blog: I've neglected you. I know it. I'm sorry.

It's not that I don't love you, I do. I love knowing that I have somewhere to write things that are on my mind. Things that happen in my life. Things that make me happy or sad. It's just that lately, well, I don't even know where to begin.

Sometimes I guess we just find ourselves adrift.

It's not that I am unhappy with the way things are going...quite to the contrary. I have just reached one of those times in my life where I am enjoying the DOING much more than the REPORTING about the doing. And amid the doing, I've been thinking a lot about where things will go from here.

There are no big life decisions to be made. There are no looming deadlines or important plans to be planned. Life is, amazingly, devoid of lists and tasks and calendars and plans. I'm finding it blissful, and also a little disturbing.

Blissful because each day when Toast and I get up, all we have to do is laid out before us...yogurt and fruit or eggs. Sandbox or park. Wagon or bike. Nap. Snack. Play with daddy. Investigate the tomatoes to see how large they are. Lay out a big blanket in the backyard and sit on it counting bugs. The best part? Right now, this is enough.

So why am I feeling like I am adrift? Why am I feeling like there is somewhere to be going? Toast is getting a bit older and while our time together is wonderful, I"m starting to feel like there is something I could be doing from home...no, no, it's not time to go back to work. I'm just wondering if this is it. If this is where I am supposed to be. If I am doing what I am supposed to be doing.

I know, blog. I know that you are going to tell me that I should just be enjoying things as they are. See, if I have this feeling though, I think I need to act on it. I think I need to start exploring it. Maybe all I'm feeling is more grief, rolling around my life as it does sometimes. Maybe there is an idea in here about something brilliant that will take my life in a new direction. I just need some time to listen...and that, I know, is in short supply. There is too much noise in my life. Too much civilization. Too MUCH in general. I can't hear myself here.

Next week Hubby, Toast and I are taking off...literally. We are taking off to go on vacation...to the Cabin with Gamma And Gampa (Toast is SO excited)...and taking off to the north woods for a few days (Hubby and I) before rejoining Toast and my parents.

There is a provincial park in Ontario where we went hiking years ago, before we were married. It is, hands down, one of the most (if not the most) amazing places I've ever seen on earth (and I've camped in some amazing places). The park stretches all along the shore of Lake Superior, and all along the lake shore there is a trail. It's rustic, it's very difficult hiking. When the Canadians say "strenuous", they mean it! (I'll save the part about the vertical rock wall the height of a school bus for another post....). It's also lovely....there are these tiny coves all along the lake, and that's where the campsites are. You wake up to a beach that is a circular bowl of stones edging the lake...and there's nothing else. Some of the coves have large flat boulders of granite the size of my car that jut out into the water...perfect for sitting or napping (I've tested this theory).

This is where we are going. And I need it. I need the quiet. I need to be fifty miles from anyone, any store, any civilization. I need this. Hubby does too.
So for the next week or so I'll be taking off...taking off from my cell phone, the computer, my email, twitter, netflix, TV, NPR, the world at large. I know that there are people who think I'm crazy, that don't like this kind of a get-away...but it's something that is an absolute necessity for me.

When I come back, if I haven't regained my balance, found my direction again, I"ll at least have some awesome pictures and a few good posts about our trip.

I love/hate this time of year.

2009-07-22T13:36:00.001-05:00

**this has been widely cross posted around my universe, sorry for any duplication**

Well, folks, the time is here again.
For the fourth year in a row, our family will be walking in the Down Syndrome Guild of Southeast Michigan Buddy Walk. If you are not familiar with the Buddy Walk or what it's about, here's a short summary: Buddy Walks are held all across the country each year to celebrate the lives of people with Down syndrome and those who love them. It is a fund raising event for the Down syndrome community. Last year, millions of dollars were raised in the United States through the efforts of individuals with Down syndrome and their families.

But that's the company line, and if you know me, you know I'm not about the company line.

See, we walk for Ben.

You know about Ben, right? Ben Randall, my son, was born in February 2006. Yes, he had four heart defects. Yes, he also had Down syndrome. You know about the hospice, the NICU, the fact that we were supposed to have only two short weeks with him. You also know that I don't use words like miracle lightly and that Ben was nothing short of a Miracle. With a capital M.

You know he lived two years, traveled, laughed, went to school, made googly eyes at pretty girls, and had the largest capacity for joy of anyone I've ever met. You also know that we lost him after more time than we were supposed to have, but less time than we wanted to have.

It goes without saying that we were not the only ones to love him.

So each year since Ben was born, and now after his death, we walk to honor his memory and celebrate the lives of people with Down syndrome and their families. We walk to remember how life changing the diagnosis of Down syndrome was for us, but in all the ways we didn't expect.

Please visit our buddy walk fund raising page at http://tinyurl.com/benbuddywalk. You can make a donation, sign up to walk with us, or just look at a picture of an incredibly cute little boy.

Thanks.

Well, well, well...

2009-07-06T19:01:00.002-05:00

While the Thoughts part of this blog is going strong, the Life part is also, unfortunately, going strong. We are in the high part of summer here in the good ol' midwest, which means barbecues (where we don't eat BBQ but instead feast on burgers and some incarnation of something covered in Miracle Whip), Family reunions, and humidity. Thankfully, this year the last one is taking it's sweet time getting here.
Hubby's sister is coming in for a week next week, and we rarely get to see her, so it will be nonstop fun. Okay, maybe we'll stop now and then, but mostly I'm hoping it's nonstop. Other than that, we're prepping for abovementioned Family Reunion (it really does have to be capitalized...it's that fun and cool) of Hubby's side of the clan this weekend.
Other happenings:
Visits from friends who have moved out of state....
Emergency mulch deliveries from my parents (Hi, we're coming home with a trailer load of much, do you want some?)
Getting our house painted (because it REALLY needs it).
Buying a pool for Toast. That's not the exciting part. The exciting part is getting it home in my Honda Civic.
And generally trying to sort out life, as we all do, on a daily basis. I'm feeling a little, well, stuck lately. I have a million things I want to do, but no inspiration for any of it. I'm feeling more of the "I can't" lately than the "why not". It's adding extra annoyance because it's been so positively beautiful around here that it's perfect for playing and drawing and going to the park and all matters and sorts of summer activities.
I"m going to get right on that.

Adventures in eating, weeks One and Two

2009-06-30T08:23:00.002-05:00

So, the CSA... For the past two Tuesdays we've gotten a delivery of fresh veggies, and while I thought this would be the hardest part (the beginning, when we get lots of greens), it's really been okay! Last week we again received two kinds of kale, three kinds of lettuce, some turnips, and radishes. Hubby doesn't like radishes, which is good for me, because I really like them! Last week we did wind up cutting the tops off the turnips and storing them in the crisper...they are still there...we'll probably roast them for dinner tonight.

Though I like greens, I've never really cooked them before. I add them to soup a lot, but not much else. It's been kind of fun to think of ways to eat them...easy also.

Some things I've made:
* sauteed greens over cous-cous and chickpeas: pretty good...added parm cheese on the top and wasn't impressed with the cheese addition..it just wasn't needed. Also, there was nothing added into the greens, so the flavor was kind of flat. This was my first attempt at cooking mixed greens, and it was okay but needed some work.

* pizza: we made pesto from Kale and turnip greens, spread it on pizza dough, added feta cheese and roasted vegetables (potatoes, turnips, parsnips and shallots). The roasted veg was DELICIOUS. I should have blanched the greens before making the pesto...the flavor was a little sharp. This would be great with goat cheese, also.

* Ravioli, cheater style: We used frozen ravioli, but I served it with carmalized shallots, toasted pinenuts and sauteed greens...delicious. Just delicious.

And last night? I made veggie Lasagna...oy....so good. It was a typical lasagna recipe: noodles, a ricotta mixture. The veggie part was a large onion sliced and carmalized, mixed with sauteed greens. I diced the greens up a little so the pieces were smaller and the Lasagna was easier to cut. I also added some breadcrumbs to help absorb any extra moisture from the vegetables, but it wasn't needed. I found the crumbs stayed pretty crunchy...that wasn't to bad, either. :)

I have to say that the carmalized onion or shallot really complements the taste of greens well...I can see why you can really use any kind of flavorful green interchangeably: chard, kale, rapini, turnip greens, radish greens...they are all really good. This is going to help us branch out from spinach!

As far as lettuce goes, we've been eating it on sandwiches and as salad. The salads we eat are dressed lightly, if at all....the varieties of lettuce we're getting are pretty flavorful, so a little olive oil and lemon juice with some salt and pepper are all that's really necessary. I really like that, it's much lighter and a nice change from "what kind of dressing do you want" as I peer into the ten bottles of salad dressing in our refrigerator. I did make a chicken salad last week, and it went well, but probably needs a "stronger" lettuce leaf like romaine.

2009-06-25T20:11:00.002-05:00

I am nine years old. I remember sitting in Mrs. Hoag's class at Stadium Drive Elementary and someone had this record on their desk....a man with a white tiger. It was Thriller. It was Michael Jackson.

My friends and I learn the Thriller dance that year...we did it in front of our class. For my Tenth birthday my mom got me a pair of Jordache jeans (unhemmed, of course...and exactly two inches too long so I could cuff them) and the Thriller album on tape.

I don't know what I think about Michael Jackson in the later years. I have very strong feelings about what should happen to child molesters...and despite reports for and against Jacko, I don't think we'll ever know what he was really like. I do believe that talent does not know if you are a good person or a bad person. Talent does not distinguish. Michael Jackson had talent. He is an icon of my generation, for good or bad, and I'm really very sad to hear he passed today.

WOW

2009-06-18T08:46:00.002-05:00

Just heard on BBC America (I'm paraphrasing...it's hard to hear a direct quote when Toast is screaming for "meeealk"): America suffered through two rigged elections, putting and keeping George Bush in Power. Americans could learn a few things from the Iranians about how to voice their displeasure.

WOW. Keeping Bush in POWER. So fascinating to see how the world views our election process over the past decade.

Can't say I disagree.

Adventures in eating, prologue

2009-06-17T07:52:00.005-05:00

I'm going to be doing an ongoing series of entries this summer regarding our CSA, or farm share. Hubby and I decided this year to buy a farm share, and after picking up our first shipment last night I realized what an adventure it's going to be. I say that not because we got stuff we'll never eat, but because there are new ways to PREPARE what we are getting. We do not, for example, cook greens at home very often. Usually it extends to me throwing them into something else... So I thought I would document what we're getting and what we do with it.

So, a little background. Yesterday I tweeted that we would be getting a CSA, and I had several people on Facebook ask me "what's that?" CSA stands for Community Shared (or supported) agriculture. It began in Europe and Japan in the 60's by people who wanted more security regarding their food safety and purity. When a family purchases a CSA what they are doing is essentially purchasing part of a farm...when everyone buys a part of that farm they are all supporting the growing and harvesting process with their dollars. I believe I heard that about 50 families are together in our CSA...so it's a rather small one. The dollars go toward supporting organically grown local food. Members of the CSA sink or swim, so to speak, depending on what grows and what doesn't do so well. Some farms have a "work share" where they ask members to work, either in the planting and harvesting, or in the distribution. Some farms offer discounts for this work, some offer it as an option, and some require it in addition to your purchase. Our farm offers it as an option, they have an open door policy where we can visit at any time, have lunch, work or see what's going on. Sometimes farms will purchase or share food with other farms, in order to increase the variety their members receive.

Farm shares have existed for years on the west coast (where they are extremely popular) and in some other parts of the country. They are just beginning to catch on here....I found ours by going to the Local Harvest website. This is, by the way, a great resource for finding local produce: farm stands, farm shares, local growers..it's all there. All you do is input your zip code and away you go!

Another question I hear a lot when I tell people about our CSA is "How expensive". Since we're on a budget, it was a big question for us too. The initial outlay of money varies by farm, but it is usually between $300 and $500 dollars for the season..for us the season is mid-june to late October. Each week we receive a box of vegetables, fruit if it's available, recipes and descriptions of our food. The price may vary depending on how much you get (we are getting a half share, which is 6-8 lbs of veg per week), whether you work (if your farm has a work share), and where you live. For us, the price amounted to about $15 per week, which is completely reasonable.

So why do it?

Hubby and I had lots of reasons we wanted to try this. I heard about the concept from a friend who lives in Philadelphia and was pretty entranced. As I began to think a little harder about this, I got a little nervous. One comment I heard a lot (and said myself more than once) is "what am I going to do with five pounds of kale? One potential drawback of a CSA is what you get is what you eat...no matter what. It isn't an option (for us) to waste it. The more I thought about it, though, the more I viewed this as a challenge. Hubby and I both grew up in families that had HUGE gardens. My parents always grew what we ate, and there were even summers where we sold sweetcorn we grew in the large field behind our house. Our neighbors as I was growing up had large fields and did pick-your-own, a farm stand. I love vegetables, and I'm not shy about trying new ones...neither is Hubby. I think this is kind of a must..you need to be willing to try new stuff..to seek out recipes for things you don't really know a lot about and give them a whirl. One does not have to LIKE everything you get in a CSA, but you've got to be willing to try new things and go into it with an open mind.

In addition to the challenge aspect, I like knowing where my food comes from. I grew up in a family that purchased meat directly from farmers, or raised our own (the pigs we raised are another post entirely). When I get things in the grocery store, I can tell that it's been grown somewhere else and trucked to me. When people tell me they don't like vegetables, I know that part of the reason is that they may not have eaten a lot of fresh stuff..it makes a huge difference. Sometimes I don't like Tomatoes in the middle of the winter either! I want to make sure my dollars support local farms. I want Toast to grow up knowing where his food comes from, like Hubby and I do. It tastes better, it looks more appealing, it's just a little bit healthier.

We eat a lot of vegetables, but the variety is no where near what is out there...I just want to expand our horizons a little bit.

So this leads me to this weeks delivery. We picked up our first box of produce yesterday. As with most programs, ours has a central drop off point. Once a week on the same day I go and pick up our share of veggies from that point. Here's what we got this week:
* Three kinds of Lettuce
*Arugula
*A bag of kale
*Two kinds of radish, one is a daikon
*Turnips (this surpised me, I always associate Turnips with fall)
*Two kinds of mustard greens.
We also got a handout that explains each variety of what we got (many of the things we will be getting this year are heirloom varieties); the handout also gives us some recipes.

Since we're going out of town this weekend it will be a challenge to use everything...we're having sauted greens with scallions and garlic, tossed with Cous Cous tonight, and probably some roasted turnips. Pretty much any root vegetable is good roasted. I'm hoping to branch out in my cooking techniques this summer...I do a lot of roasting and sauteing...I'd like to learn some new recipes.

So stay tuned, I'll be letting you know what we like, what we didn't, and how we cooked it. Should be interesting!!!

Face this

2009-06-03T12:32:00.002-05:00

A few thoughts on Facebook have been rolling around in my attic lately.

Before I begin, let me tell you two things that I believe with my whole heart: Facebook is the new Myspace, and the internet is what you make of it. Number two is far more important than number one.

I spend a vast amount of time on the internet. I love all the different input I can gather just by surfing around. I love all the different viewpoints I have access to. The first 45 minutes to an hour of naptime every day is my internet time. I don't spend a whole lot of time on Facebook (though it might seem that way...I use twitter and it automatically updates my FB status). I love that I can check in and hear something about the day to day of other people. I love that I can have a little off hand conversation with them via comments and posts. I don't typically take the quizzes (though sometimes I'm bored enough to) and I'm not really into all the gaming stuff that's going on. I'm not going to join your mob war.

But, you see, I'm terrible with the telephone. I really don't like talking on the phone. When I was a teenager, sure, I talked on the phone a lot, but as I've gotten older I realize I just don't like it all that much. I would much rather meet a friend at the park or over a cup of coffee. I have several friendships that would be much closer if I were "good" at the phone, but I'm just not. I hate silence when I can't see what the other person is doing, and I tend to talk too much, interrupt someone else on the other end of the line, and feel all awkward. Facebook gives me the chance to have that back and forth with people I don't see that often. I really like that.

I have been able to get back in touch or stay in touch with lots of people via FB...former students, friends from High School...people I didn't really know well in High School. The weird thing about all of it is that I am "friends" with people I didn't really talk to much before, but have found online. This is kind of odd. I call FB the place to be "friends" with people I would much rather ignore. I have an acquaintance that I used to be very close to, had a HUGE falling out with, and now do not speak to. I feel awkward and bitter around her in real life, on the occasion we have to be together. Yet here we are, friends on Facebook.

One of the major things that gets tiring, stressful, and old; but is completely necessary, is this: Facebook is a pretty public forum. When you get back in touch with someone, you can post on their wall...which is okay....but then the question comes up. You know where I'm going with this: "Your boys are so cute! How are you? How old are they? What are you doing?" Then there is the obligatory private message with the explanation...the info about Tiny Man.

I don't really MIND so much...It's not that I think he shouldn't be talked about. It's not that I don't want to share. But it all feels kind of....well, oookey. "Hi, I haven't seen you in X number of years, and by the way my son died". Weird.

Easy solution? Delete the pictures of T.M. off my Facebook page. Dont' bother with the explanation. Focus on Toast. But that's not right for me right now. So I guess I have to live with the possibility that I'm making others feel awkward. I'm okay with that for now.

I don't know if I love the entirety of the Facebook idea, or hate it...but for now it's a tool that works for me, allows me to be a little more interactive and a little less alone when I'm home all day with Toast. There is a whole other post here about how our interactions with people have changed due to the presence of the internet in our lives, and I'm not ready for that yet. For now, the simple answer is the internet is good for me, and I try very very hard to keep it a minor but important presence in my life.

perspective

2009-05-30T21:05:00.002-05:00

I'm a week out from the horrible mommy day. Things are back to normal, the way they should be, ups and downs balancing out. Life with a busy 18 month old.

I feel so comforted, so good, reading the comments for the last post. Writing the entry...I just needed to get things out. It doesn't matter how much I know, logically, that it's okay to take a minute for myself...especially when I'm feeling frustrated and upset...it still feels strange to write it out. I think we, as mothers (and as teachers/librarians...I'm talking to you Sparkcrafted) are given messages that tell us we are only good and only worthy if we turn ourselves over to our charges. When I think about it, though, the best children I know, the best parents I know, they have individual lives. My parents were really wonderful at parenting, and they always took time for themselves. I saw them reading, having hobbies, enjoying life with me and by themselves. I think we get a lot of messages from society that encourage us to live completely for our children, and I think that is not healthy. It's a fine line, though, and one that's hard to walk. When Toast is having a normal day it's hard to not spend every moment with him, both because he demands it and because it's fun.

Mostly, I think, I am so encouraged by reading comments from moms I admire and care deeply about telling me it's going to be okay. Thanks guys. When it comes down to it, something we have that mothers before us did not is a community of people that is incredibly diverse...it goes beyond our family and neighbors, and it provides incredible perspective and support. There is a lot out there if one looks for it.

I am fortunate that a week ago thursday is an isolated incident with Toast, and I'm fortunate to have an outlet when these incidents happen.

Tight

2009-05-21T18:13:00.002-05:00

It's just after seven, and I've just put Toast to bed. We are both exhausted. Today my sweet, laid back and happy boy had a very hard afternoon. I, of course, also had a hard afternoon. I'm struggling with my feelings right now...and I'm having a very very hard time.

It began after nap time. T woke up in a rotten mood and cried for about fifteen minutes. I tried to snack him, snuggle him, lay down with him in our bed, rock him, put him back in the crib for more sleep. He just wanted to whine and cry, alternately..together..separately...it didn't matter. He wanted to whine and cry.

So we got out of the house, went to the park then to a neighbor's for a little while...and it was lovely. The day is beautiful. Came home, ate dinner...then had more of the same...whine and cry. After dinner we went out to the deck, I was going to browse a book and I brought out toys for Toast. He came to my lap, grabbed a handful of clothing (I cannot tell you how this irritates me) and started to cry. It was 6:15. He did not stop for the next 45 minutes.

My chest, stomach, back, breath..all of it...are so tight right now I cannot relax. I am afraid if I start to cry I will not stop. There is nothing that brought on a tantrum. There is nothing wrong. There is nothing out of the ordinary. Apparently it's just an overload of emotions that had to be released.

When this happens, when Toby melts down...and it's not often...he likes to grab...he takes his fist and grabs handfuls of my clothing and pulls on it. It's uncomfortable and irritating. If it were an adult I would probably lose control and yell stop it. If it persisted, I would probably smack the person or walk away. Everyone has their trigger, and I didn't know this was mine...it irritates me beyond belief. BUT being the bigger, stronger, smarter one, I have to keep myself in check...and I do. But it's so hard sometimes to remind myself to be calm, distract, speak, soothe.

Toast is very very determined and stubborn. If he doesn't get his way, he screams and cries. I think this is common in toddlers, yes? If he wants to do something, and can't, he whines, or screams, or cries. If he is headed for something he's not supposed to do, and is blocked...the same. But what am I supposed to do when we are sitting on the deck on a lovely evening, and he will not play. If I get down to pay attention, he will play on his own. If I sit aways away to do something else, he will stop and come be near me, pull, whine. I try very very hard to remind myself that he is telling me something important...that he wants mom and needs my attention. But sometimes I just want a moment. Is it his age? It just sounds like I'm so selfish. I just read what I wrote and I'm so ashamed. But how do kids learn to be independant? I don't expect it now...but what is the line...when do I help and when do I not? When do I assert my right to sit and read a damn book for five minutes.

This parenting thing is so difficult. It's such a struggle. Am I the first mom who just needs a little break now and then? I cannot believe people do this on their own. I cannot believe that people undertake this job, willingly, alone.

Too long for a tweet

2009-05-17T10:18:00.001-05:00

iPod: Check
Coffee: Check
Unfinished Lace that needs to be done in two weeks: check
Hubby and Toast out of the house: check.

WHY am I vacuuming? Not to mention blogging, tweeting....

2009-05-06T13:13:00.000-05:00

Scarpetta by Patricia Cornwell

My review

rating: 2 of 5 stars
I used to love Patricial Cornwell so much. I read each book she wrote...devoured them, really, and read them again. To say I have been disappointed in her last efforts would be a vast understatement.

The stories Cornwell writes now, either in her investigation of Jack the Ripper or the most recent few Scarpetta novels; suffer from a severe lack of editing. I don't know if she has fired her editor, or simply is able to fire off a manuscript and send it to a publisher without ever having to go through the editing process, but it's really getting out of hand. In this novel, for example, the interactions between the characters are written in a way that is so diffuse, so scattered, that it's hard to tell exactly what is going on. Rather than doing an expert job of weaving a story that includes the thoughts, motivations and actions of Kay Scarpetta and the actions of every other character, Cornwell now feels compelled to invite us into a soap opera that makes us privy to every thought and whim of each and every major character.

I do not use the words "soap opera" lightly here. While I understand the need to portray characters in a realistic light and move their personal stories along, the turns in the lives of the four major characters of this series have become so ridiculous it's hard to stomach.

I used to appreciate Cornwell's writing for it's sharpness...her ability to cut right into the meat of a situation and portray it so clearly it was easy to visualize. I loved that she wrote a strong female character, giving voice to all the aspects of Kay Scarpetta's life. I also read her books for the cutting-edge scientific information and the deft way she incorporated this into the story. Now, however, I just get bored. I don't see myself awaiting another Cornwell novel with anticipation...I wonder if I'll even read the next one.

View all my reviews.

too long for a tweet

2009-04-23T20:51:00.002-05:00

Me: I am SO COLD!
Hubby hands me a blanket
Me: No, I have to knit..my hands are too cold to knit
Hubby: want to snuggle?
Me: No, I have to kn...oooo! fingerless gloves!
Hubby (simultaneously): Don't you have fingerless gloves?
I pull said gloves from bottom of knitting basket, singing in faux opera and put them on.

Then I go to tweet/blog about it.
Oh dear.

End of the bi-month

2009-04-23T19:34:00.003-05:00

No, this is not a post about THAT kind of bi-month...I'm talking every two months. Just so we're clear.

See, I haven't actually looked at my posts to figure this out, but I'm pretty sure that I tend to post more in certain months, and the reason is clear...the end of every other month seems to always be crazy. I do this volunteer gig...writing a newsletter for our DS parent support group. I've been doing it for about a year now, and I love it. I really do. Those of you who are reading this and recalling all the complaining..no, strike that..talking..I do about this project need to know: I really do love doing this. It keeps me in touch with our group and the friends I've made there. It gives me an outlet. It's allowing me to figure out a few things about publishing documents and design and typesetting that I never knew. It gives me a massive sense of accomplishment when I see the final project in our mailbox and I think "See those 15 - 20 pages of content? I did that!" I really do love it.

But I will admit, sometimes it makes me crazy. The last three weeks of every other month mean I will be in front of the computer most nights. And naptimes. And sometimes stolen moments during the day. Sometimes I get all done and one more thing to add comes over my email and it makes me scream. There are a lot of people and a lot of back and forth involved. It gets to be a bit much.

Mostly what I don't like is it takes me away from other things I want to do, like knitting, scrapbooking, surfing the web...things I do to take myself down a notch and relax. This month is especially crazy because I have a knitting project I'm striving to finish, both because I am gifting it at the end of May, and because I have some other things I want to do. This leads me to my next point.

I am NOT a deadline knitter. I love the current project, but I hate that I have to "GET IT DONE". It will be lovely, and amazing, and I'm so proud of it, but I would really like to shove it in a bag and go do something else right now, and I can't. I want to write a blog regarding what we are doing to green up our lives right now, but instead I'm relieving my stress writing about what is stressing me out. I want to scrapbook a few pictures and ideas that are bouncing around in my head, but I can't concentrate on being creative and getting that done.

It kind of stresses me out, hear me?

My time to myself is limited. Like most mothers, I get very little time to myself. That's okay. It's part of the job. I knew this when I signed up. I do, however, cherish that time and try to use it for things I really really love (see above) instead of wasting it watching TV. During the end of the bi-month, though, when I get "sitting" time, I tend to veg in front of said TV. Not productive. Not interesting. Not stimulating.
So here's to finishing up some projects and getting back to fun that feels less like work and more like fun.

Snippit

2009-04-15T15:30:00.002-05:00

I just finished making copies of Tiny Man's death certificate to send in with our Taxes. I had to do this because when we tried to Efile, our return was rejected with a note saying it was due to SS numbers. Our preparer suspects it may have something to do with Tiny Man's number and his death being recorded on SS records.
It's not that this was a big hassle, but I resent having to do it. It's not like I enjoy claiming him as a dependant knowing he's not any more. And I didn't really enjoy making copies of a document I'd still rather pretend didn't exist.

Thank you, Universe, for conspiring against me today.

And I swear...if they audit us for this......

Oh Wow.

2009-04-12T15:24:00.002-05:00

A confession. Even though I love American Idol, I cannot stand other talent competitions on Television. Actually, most reality TV (with a few notable exceptions) kind of gives me hives.

America's Got Talent, in particular, does not strike my fancy in any way. Usually, when I see people trying to make it big through a reality TV show, I think to myself "really?"; because the whole thing seems kind of skeezy and second rate.
I know that many people are fans of the man from Britan who made it big on "Britan's Got Talent"...he was a plumber or something and, as it turns out, also sings opera. Good for him. I just have no interest.

That's why I was SHOCKED today to find myself riveted to this. My sister sent it to me because I love Les Miserables, but I watched because the woman in this clip is so amazing. It kind of made me cry a little. I highly recommend watching.

Fun with Music

2009-04-10T14:55:00.004-05:00

A few years ago, I wrote on my other blog about Tiny Man's playlist. Music is really important to me, and I made a playlist for each of the boys when they were born. I have added to Tiny Man's over the years, and plan to do the same with Toast's. Today I found a really cool feature on iTunes where you can publish your playlist. The iTunes store will then make that playlist available for one year so you can share it with family and friends. The only catch is that not everything on Toast's playlist is available, so I've put the whole thing below. The iTunes version can be found here.

Songs for Toby (song name; album name; artist name)
The Storms Are On The Ocean; Ollabelle; Ollabelle
You Got Growin' Up To Do; Simple Times; Joshua Radin
I Don't Know Why; Fat City; Shawn Colvin
Gypsy; Suzanne Vega
On a high; Daylight; Duncan Sheik
Love; The Story
Sunrise; Feels Like Home; Norah Jones
Ordinary Miracle; Charlotte's Web [2006 Score]; Sarah McLachlan
The One Who Knows; The Beauty Of The Rain; Dar Williams
Roots And Wings; Roots And Wings; Linda Hirschhorn with Vocolot
The Water is Wide; James Taylor
More Time; P.S. I Love You; Needtobreathe
Love will Come to you; Rites of Passage; Indigo Girls
Breathe; Faith hill
For You; John Denver
Pass On The Love; Spike & Co.: Do It A Capella; The Persuasions
When You Say Nothing At All; Allison Krauss
Godspeed (Sweet Dreams); Home; Dixie Chicks
On Children; Sweet Honey in the Rock
Everlong (Acoustic); The Color and the Shape ;Foo Fighters
Beautiful Boy; John Lennon
Lullaby For A Stormy Night; Waking Hour; Vienna Teng

On a random friday...

2009-04-10T13:20:00.002-05:00

Just a few random things I wanted to jot down today.
There is a road near my house that meanders through some lovely woods next to a lake...I drive it quite a bit as I'm out and about. In the spring...early spring...I love that before anything else greens up, there are carpets and carpets of these beautiful little blue flowers. I've never gotten close enough to see what they are, but to me they mean spring. I lived around here three years before my mom pointed them out to me. She saw them on the way over to our house to visit when we brought Tiny Man home and things were so uncertain with his life. Now when I see them they always remind me of him and make me smile. It means winter is over and spring is here.

We are going for brunch on Sunday with hubby's Grandmother (Nana) and various members of his family...a fine tradition in his fam. Tomorrow I'll be making an Easter dinner for MY family here at our house. I LOVE making big dinners and having everyone over, even though it means I'll be exhausted by the time it's all over. Our house is tiny (by today's standards), but perfect for us, and I love to have it full of people we love, even when we're all crammed in like sardines!

Why was it that I was so good at budgeting for Christmas, and yet getting items for Toast's Easter basket has turned me into a spending freak? It's not like I've broken the bank here, but I have gotten him far more little treasures than he really needs...but they will be so much fun for him! I can't wait.

Have a great weekend, everyone, and Welcome Spring!

I have to talk about this.

2009-03-31T12:53:00.003-05:00

I've written a little about my feelings on language and perception regarding people with Down syndrome and other developmental disabilities. When I did so, though, I was talking more about issues that are different than what's on my mind today...

...when I was teaching, it used to really really get me when kids would use the word "Gay". "That's so Gay, you're so Gay, how Gay". Just drove me up a WALL. I would call them on it, each and every time. Some smartass would always say "it means happy!" Another teacher I knew had the BEST comeback for that. She would tell them "Oh, so one genius learns how to use a Thesaurus and now you're all excited!" She was an English Teacher. It was a great line. Likewise, I hated when kids would call something "retarded", or call each other "retard". We actually had a student once who auditioned an act for one of the school's variety shows where he portrayed a mentally challenged man sitting and waiting for a bus. Muscular tics, facial expressions, speech patterns, all of it.

He didn't understand why his act didn't get in the show. Really. He didn't get it.

This is my issue. People don't get it. "Retard", to most people, isn't mean. I understand that in the original context, the word is not meant to BE mean. It means slower. I get that. But the way we use it now? It's mean. It's hurtful. And people don't get it. Kristin Chenowith, an actress I greatly admire, referred to herself as "one of those retards who starts playing Christmas music in October" on the Today show this past holiday season. Really? That's okay?

Here's what you need to get: the word is offensive. When you look at someone doing something stupid, something without thought, something they should know better than to do, and call them a retard? Yeah, that's offensive. You just compared someone being purposefully dumb to my oldest son. He isn't slower ON PURPOSE. He's just slower. He didn't learn to crawl or walk. Not because he knew how and decided not to, not as a joke, not because he made a stupid error. He did it because his growth and development were, let's use the word as it is supposed to be used: retarded. Slower. Not dumb. My son was not dumb. Not stupid.

I think people don't get that THEY might not be offended by a word...but THEY have no reason to be. They are not the one who is developing slower.

That's why, when reading an online friend's blog today, I was so happy to see this. And this. And finally, this.
Please, click through. Take a moment. I will, as bloggers love to say, wait.

Done? Okay. Thanks for looking.

Today, March 31, has been designated as a national day of awareness by Special Olympics. "Spread the word to end the word". Please, people, take a few minutes to pay attention to your own language, maybe for the next few days. Did you use the "R" word? Could you have avoided it?

Tell you what. Next time you feel compelled to use that word, consider this:This is my Tiny man. He and his brother are the light of my life. I love him and I miss him so very very much. When you use the word retard, you are negating every single thing he accomplished during his life. You are ignoring the struggle, the miracle, the magic of a little boy who just wanted to live life joyfully.

Let's just think a little, okay?

Think about that next time you use "the word".

Lucky number 100

2009-03-30T13:24:00.003-05:00

This is my 100th post on this blog. I feel like I should do something special. Ahh well. The thought was there.
So I'm feeling a teensy bit angry at myself right now. I spent about a half hour of naptime photographing my scrapbook pages, because I wanted to post some of them to my flickr site. From there, I wanted to submit several of them to group photo pools on said site. I didn't have this desire because I think my pages are spectacular, but they are fairly decent, and I get so many ideas from looking at other's pages. I wanted to start submitting some of my own.
So what's the problem? That nasty little fairy, self-doubt. That's the problem. I'm pulling pages from my albums...so, strike that...I'm looking through my albums and thinking "nope, nope, nope, not good enough, nope, nope nope, boring, nope, not creative enough". Huh? Not creative enough? What?!
It's hard to remind myself that scrapbooking, knitting, embroidery...all these crafty hobbies I have...they are OUTLETS for me. I'm not going to proclaim a background in Art, Art history, design etc etc etc because I don't have one. But I'm an artist simply because I create, because I like it, because it is soothing to me. I don't have to make the next great installation.
What is it that makes us believe we aren't good enough at something? I certainly have enough confidence about myself. I am good parent. I am a good cook. I'm a good person and a fair, compassionate human being. For some reason, though, I always judge my creative endeavors against those of other people. Maybe there's some deep seated psycological reason for this, but I think I just need to get over it and accept my stuff for what it is...MINE. I am a little ashamed of myself that I am so afraid to put things out there for others to see. I mean, I started scrapbooking so that we would actually LOOK at the pictures we take.
I need a good swift kick in the Tuchus.

2009-03-25T20:10:00.000-05:00

The Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson

My review

rating: 3 of 5 stars
I finished this book days ago and I'm still thinking what to say about it, and how to rate it. I am very conflicted about it. The characters were not impressive to me. I don't feel that the author did a great job of creating characters that had depth to them. It didn't seem to me that there was a lot of complexity in any of the characters. Additionally, the plot was fairly straightforward, and it wasn't hard to see what would happen at the end.

That having been said, I enjoyed the fairy tale aspects of this story, and the way that each part of the fantasy played in to the plot line, the main love story, and the main character's journey. For that reason, I enjoyed the last third of the book the best, because of the way each part of the fairy tale lent something to the main character's journey (both real and emotional).

Not the best book I've ever read, but an enjoyable read. This is well worth picking up, but it's pure enjoyment.

View all my reviews.

Bonus days

2009-03-17T20:42:00.002-05:00

Had to share, just because every once in awhile I make something for dinner that is kind of yummy.

Put your corned beef in the crockpot, but instead of putting water to cover, use a beer. Yum. That's tip number one that I learned today. Today I used a Killians, but I think Guiness is the way to go here. Next time, next time.

Tip two? When you put your cabbage in, put a skewer through it to keep the pieces together (I hate when my cabbage falls apart and looks bad...just me). I cut mine into quarters, then I took a small piece out of the "point" of the wedge and stuck the skewer through.

But then. THEN.

When everything was done, I took out the meat and let it rest on a plate, covered in foil. Then I took the cooking juices and put them into my gravy strainer. Using a large frypan, I melted two Tbsp. butter, and whisked in two Tbsp flour (do you know how to make gravy? I just learned about a year ago....it's pretty easy...this is how you do it). Let this cook about a minute, as you whisk, then slowly begin pouring in the "broth" part of the pan drippings...it will clump and look strange KEEP WHISKING....don't pause to think about it. The whisking is key to making sure you don't get lumps. Pouring slowly is also important, because it changes consistency as you cook, and if you proceed with caution you can judge the consistency of your gravy just right. Okay now, this is the magic part right here...pay attention): whisk in a goodly amount of fresh ground black pepper and about 1-2 Tbsp of dijon or stone ground mustard. I used dijon, that's what we had. You now have a creamy mustard sauce that will be YUMMY on your corned beef, potatoes, and cabbage. Serve with lots of carrots and parsnips too. mmmm. I know. You want this for dinner again tomorrow. Me too.

Cheers!

A cautionary tale

2009-03-17T14:31:00.002-05:00

Since it's St. Patrick's Day, and since St. Patty is the patron saint of Ireland and all, I thought I would give you a little parable. I'm not sure what St. Patrick did, I think it had something to do with snakes and all. Okay, okay, so sue me. I'm Polish, not Irish. St. Casimir* I know, St. Patrick not so much. But I digress.

Back when I was teaching, I used to try and do a lot of activities in my classroom. Part of it is that I myself am a bit ADD, and sitting makes me stir crazy. I hated to inflict that same torture on my students. Another part of this is that when you are learning, activity is fun and interactive and just better in all ways. So anyway. We're learning about Acids and Bases (I taught High School Chemistry. I'll give you a moment to recover your swoon ...) and a big part of that is indicators....how do we know when something is an acid or a base... Many many plants have pigments in them that act as indicators, one of the better known is red cabbage. So I'm all about boiling a cabbage in my house to make indicator.

The procedure is simple...you boil the cabbage for, oh, awhile. Timing is not important. When you get done, the water is this lovely purple color. You pour the water into a container, and use it on all matters and sorts of things to watch it change color and "indicate" (hence the name) the presence of acidic or basic properties. You can do this at home...it's an easy thing to do and lots of fun.

I get done with the boiling and pouring, and I have this cabbage now. I don't mind cabbage, so I butter and salt a little of it and eat it. But I cannot eat a whole cabbage. You may be able to eat a whole cabbage. You are more of a man than I...and you are someone I don't want to spend a lot of time around post-cabbage, if you get my drift. I had to get rid of this cabbage, and so I put it down the garbage disposal.

Now, I WAS thinking...despite all the evidence to the contrary. I thought to myself "yeah, I know I'm not supposed to put fibrous stuff down the disposal, but this is cooked, so I'm all good, right?" Grind away. I don't know why I didn't just throw it in the garbage. Silly question. Obvious, but silly.

The next morning I awake and the first thought in my head is WHAT IS THAT STENCH? I look over at hubby, make a face, mentally note to have a speak at him later about his diet, grab my bookbag and container of red cabbage juice, and trot off to work. When I get home that day, however, the stench is still there. It is worse, if that is possible. That's when I get the idea to look in the basement.

Coming out of the drain in our basement floor is this amazingly beautiful little fiber sculpture made of cabbage....okay, not quite cabbage, more like what is LEFT of the cabbage. It's a pretty lavender color because the cabbage was once red. The rest of my basement floor is COVERED in some unspeakable black goo which has backed up out of the drain (the sewer drain, that is).

24 Hours and $50 spent on a power snake later, I had learned a valuable lesson. One I am sharing with you now. One that comes back to me every St. Patrick's day when I make Corned Beef and Cabbage dinner. A lesson that we all should hold dear to our hearts and never forget.

Never, NEVER, put cabbage down your garbage disposal. If you feel the urge to learn how to play with dangerous and exciting power tools (see above, re: power snake), rent one and play with it. Do not feel as if you must create a situation which requires said tool in order to justify the rental. Just rent it. You don't need a reason.

*St Casimir is the patron saint of Poland and Lithuania. He refused his father's order to lead an army to overthrow the Hungarian empire, and was imprisoned. He died of consumption and his tomb has been the site of miracles.

**Want to look up your favorite saint? www.catholic.org. I kid you not....

More on project 365

2009-03-11T19:48:00.002-05:00

After writing yesterday, I looked back on my blog to see if I had talked about project 365 before. Of course, I hadn't. I then looked at the clock to see if I had time to edit my entry. 11:30. Nope.
So for those of you who don't know what the heck project 365 is, I present a short explanation.

I first heard about this thing by reading Becky Higgins' blog. She designed a scrapbook kit for making a project 365 album. After reading about this, though, I started doing a little research on the internet, and there are 365-ers out there all over the place. Here's a good site that explains some about what it is.

So basically, you just take a photo every single day. That's it. I didn't buy the kit (although I covet it) because I wasn't sure I wanted to sink money into something I am not sure I would keep up on. After a few months of this, though, I think if it is offered next year I will. I am really enjoying thinking of things in terms of "what's in our lives, what do we do, what is our every day" and taking photos to document that. The main reason I started this project is because when I scrapbook, I HATE to journal..I hate the practice of writing on my page why I took the pictures, what they are about and what happened. I think this is so incredibly important, it's just that my journaling always sounds so stilted and fake to me. I thought by journaling about every day events, and writing about what we do every day in very short bursts it would help me become better and more comfortable with my journaling.

One of the comments yesterday mentioned getting myself into pictures. That's something I'm not good at. I'm really not. I prefer to be behind a camera rather than in front of it. I'm trying to get better about this. When I look at pictures, I'm always talking (go figure), making a funny face (usually because I'm talking, which means I'm gesturing too), or just looking weird somehow. I want to get over that "ugh" feeling I have when I look at myself in pictures. I just have a problem when I see that other people's pictures manage to make them look normal...mine manage to make me look weird. I'm working on overcoming this. :) Maybe I need to make my husband a better photographer! That's cheaper than me getting plastic surgery. :)

Project 365..how's that working?

2009-03-10T22:24:00.004-05:00

I just updated my Flickr (finally) with a few week's worth of 365 pictures.

I've been doing project 365, still taking pictures and all. And yes, I've had to take a few pictures a day or two or three after, and use them as "stock" to fill in for days I've missed. But it doesn't bother me to do this...the whole point is to document a year in your life...and I have plenty of pictures taken on actual days.

I have to say that project 365, and scrapbooking in general, has really changed the way I look at the pictures I take and why I take them. I'm far more interested in documenting what my life is like instead of events. I find I get a lot more pictures, and some of them are pretty good. Some are pretty crappy...but still. :)

On the street where I live

2009-03-09T21:03:00.004-05:00

Hubby and I are extremely lucky, on the whole. We live on a street populated with really nice people. Sure, we aren't BFFs with all of them, but we socialize, we talk over the fence, and I have playdates with our neighbors across the street. Sometimes we have dinner. There are two lovely teenage girls I would trust to watch Toast, should the occasion arise. Then there's the guy who lives just to the North of us.

Okay, yeah, we talk over the fence, and he's nice enough. But he's also kind of a jerk...in that whole "bachelor, not interested in anyone but himself" kind of way. We know he has had, on occasion...many occasions...drugs in his house. Because he's told us. And weapons...there are the weapons. He didn't elaborate on that one. We sometimes see him drinking lots with some other people on his deck (but you know, we've been known to do that too)...and more than once we've smelled the exotic "tobacco" he and his buddies take part in.

Okay, so he's a little wild. None of that is my business. And there is the "ookey" factor...he had a high "ookey" factor..just creeped me out. But still, for the most part he was pretty quiet and never caused us any harm.

There were the fireworks, which he would usually set off in the middle of the night, in a HEAVILY treed neighborhood. Bottle rockets. Illegal "free flying" fireworks. Now, this is just stupid. Lots of trees and closely spaced houses + flying fire? Yeah, that makes me really irritated with you and causes me to use some very unseemly language when I speak of you.

So we've noticed that this winter he's been gone....really gone. I figured he was wintering in Florida...seems like the type. And he's self-employed, so you know, it was logical. Last week I was driving past his house (the rear of his house faces the north side of our house, so unless we drive or walk around the block we don't see the front of his house) and there is a for sale sign in the front yard. I think to myself "Let's throw a party, the weird neighbor is moving out!" I was pretty excited.

Tonight Hubby and I were talking to our "corner neighbors" (they live on the corner) and I mentioned that it looked like he had moved. She informed me that he DIED. Huh? Yeah. I had this weird feeling. You know, I didn't know him, I didn't really like him or dislike him, I said some mean things about him and ignored him the rest of the time. But still, it's kind of weird to get news like this. Apparently his family spoke to the corner neighbors and said they'd rather keep it quiet, that he had "not been doing well, and didn't know how poorly he was doing". That can mean a lot of things, but none of them are cheery.

I don't really have a point to this story, but it's worth writing about, because it caught me by surprise and is just such a surreal situation. Yes, people die. But when someone who is apparently pretty young and (from the outside) in fairly good health, it's always kind of a shock. Moreover when you have mixed feelings about that person.

What a random thing to find out.

book review

2009-03-05T20:58:00.001-05:00

Between, Georgia by Joshilyn Jackson

My review

rating: 5 of 5 stars
I have not actually "read" any of Joshilyn Jackson's books, I listened to them all on CD, all read by the author. I adored them.

I can't wait to go back and read the text version of these books, but somehow I know it won't compare. Jackson is an excellent storyteller, but her real strength is in her characters. The characters she writes are so real and so very very well crafted you can picture them in your head and hear every word they say, see every small movement. It's amazing what this woman does with words. Listening to her read is what really lends weight to the characters...the southern drawl to her voice puts you in the place and time that these stories take place. I can't wait for her next book!

View all my reviews.
FYI: this review came from Goodreads, my new favorite website. Other books by Joshilyn Jackson include Gods in Alabama and The Girl who Stopped Swimming. listen to them if you can, but they would still be good in print.

sometimes people get in the way

2009-03-03T15:18:00.002-05:00

I'm thinking the past few days about human nature...not in the road-rage sense...not in the "I have to deal with this co-worker" sense. Just in the sense that we all have to interact with other people (unless you live in a box, in which case I hope it's lovely). The problem is that when we interact with other people, we all give something and get something. I guess this isn't a problem, per se, unless you are trying to achieve a common goal, then your personal needs can get in the way.

I was brought up in a house where volunteerism was encouraged and practiced. We didn't talk about it. It wasn't a "big deal"...it wasn't something my parents told my sister and I we needed to do, had to do, should do. But it was modeled for us, and it was modeled in a very meaningful way. I think that many people think of volunteering and they think it will be so hard, you have to find a place, you have to go sign up, and commit all that time. But my parents taught me that when you find an organization that means something to you, you give your time to it. In our case, it was things my sister and I were involved in: Scouts, 4-H, Band trips, school....if help was needed my parents were available. Not always, but many times. I know that to them it was a way of being around my sister and I, of taking part in what we were doing. Sometimes it was just "we'll be there anyway, might as well help out". Whatever it was, I saw my parents helping, doing, being there for others. Because they were committed to what they were doing, I saw that being helpful is a part of being a good person, of leading a fulfilling life. It's important.

When I began teaching I often went over and above...I stayed after, got involved in activities. I guess it looks good on a resume, but really I did it because I loved being around the kids I taught, and I loved being able to get to know them outside the classroom. I really really liked laughing with kids while supervising and directing the variety show. I loved going to football games, wrestling matches, plays, concerts and seeing someone who was dismal in Chemistry really really shine at something else. I got to know my students as people.

Now that I stay at home, I volunteer for a couple of different organizations. As I said before, they are places that are near and dear to me. Organizations that mean something to me. And I love every minute of interaction I have in helping these places out. But something has been bothering me lately, and it's really got me in a huff. It really really bothers me when people volunteer and instead of helping the organization, need to have their own ego stoked. Sometimes it's really really obvious....someone on their little power trip, doing everything they can to let other people know that someone is in charge, someone has all the ideas, and everyone had better listen. Sometimes it's not so obvious, and not so, well...mean. Sometimes a person with the best of intentions just tries to do everything...and in the process they wear themselves out, piss other people off, and run the whole outfit into the ground.

I guess the reason it gets to frustrating is because so much is at stake. If the organization is important to you personally, you want the best for it. You think you can do it better, so you try. I hate when people complain about how things are run, then sit back and don't do anything to make it better. But sometimes I think it's worse to complain how things are run, and then get so involved that you start offending people personally. Worse yet, you get involved hoping to change things, and cannot see your own limitations.

Basically, as with most situations in life, ego plays it's part here. We want to know we are important. We want others to know that what we care about matters. But please, people....lets take a minute to think about how we communicate with others. Let's take a minute to remember that maybe we all want the same thing.

So many problems can be so easily solved by trying some simple things. Don't talk behind someone's back. Think before you speak. Think before you type. Read what you type. If you have a million things going on in your head, put them aside and focus on the task and the person in front of you, just for a minute. If you can't, then be honest enough to say so. Doing anything less is so disrespectful to the people you are working with and cause you believe in.

I need my blankie

2009-03-02T22:46:00.002-05:00

Sometimes when I'm driving I think about this blog. You know, what to write about. Clever, witty ways to say things. Stuff I'd like to blog about. Too bad I don't remember any of it when I actually sit down to write. haha.

So today, I"m leaving myself a note, here on this blog thingy: It's been a really really bad day. It isn't that bad things have happened, or that my life is falling apart. It's just that I'm feeling a little down, and having to deal with the world is not making things easier. I'm going to write about this later...I have a post a-brewin about it.

But right now I need a warm bed and a sleep. So I don't go crazy.

I HATE mornings like this.

2009-02-28T13:15:00.002-05:00

Preface: Wednesday and Thursday night, Toast was waking up frequently crying. Thursday it was every hour on the hour. Hubby and I have an "agreement" that unless T is really sick, I get up during the week because Hubby has to work. Toast really doesn't wake up at night any more, and this works out fine...except I ALWAYS hear Toast when he gets up, and Hubby rarely does.

7:00 AM, Saturday 2/28: *wail* silence *wail* silence
7:00:30: I furiously poke hubby. "will you get up with him?" (this happens a lot. I'm always afraid Toast will wake up Hubby and so spring from bed fully loaded to go and get him. I didn't say I was happy about it, or graceful in doing it, just that I do. Hubby always requires poking.)
7:00:35 "yes," my dear sweet husband groans.

Hubby gets up, gets the toast. I try to go back to bed. Then this happens.

7:45
Brain: there's no milk.
me: shut up, they can eat eggs.
Brain: there's no milk
me: shut up, you don't need milk to make eggs, it's just a bonus. Like sour cream. You don't need sour cream to make any food at all, but it makes everything better.
Brain: There's only one egg.
me: They can make oatmeal. Hubby can figure that out.
Brain: there's only a half a cup of Oatmeal left.
me: they can eat INSTANT...shut up shut up shut up *pounds pillow and pulls blanket over head*
Brain: There's no instant. You insist on the real thing now because "It's not that hard to make and surely real oatmeal and brown sugar is better than instant dehydrated sweetner and fake oats"
Me: Shut up.
Brain: There's no milk.

I get out of bed. I go downstairs. Toast is eating cheerios and hubby is thinking about breakfast. He looks at me, I know he's thinking about how to phrase this.

I suggest going out for breakfast, he happily agrees. Marital bliss is restored.

But then my brain starts in again:
brain: we have to go to drop hubby's car off at the dealership for some work...and we were going to go to IKEA. These things cannot be accomplished in the alloted time without at least a half hour of wait time...too long to wait, too short to come home.
Me: shut up.

So that's how I was up, dressed, packed for a trip to Ikea, grocery list made (to kill that half hour), things measured so we could look for counterparts at IKEA, planned and everything written down, all before eight AM.

All before Coffee.

Sometimes I'm amazed at my own strength.

in my queue

2009-02-26T23:07:00.000-05:00

I really want to see this. So many reasons I want to see this.
http://www.prayingwithlior.com/

2009-02-26T22:35:00.003-05:00

Mr. Toast? My 14-month old who is not walking? That may not last long!

Toast is really ready to walk. He stands on his own...when no one is looking and when we aren't there to grab on to. He walks behind a push toy. He's really just waiting for his own time...when he is DARN GOOD AND READY to walk.

Tonight this happened.

He is so ready.

He's just cautious.

I really have a feeling that I'm in for it. He won't walk. He will run.

Fast.

Damn.

In which I fly my geek flag

2009-02-24T18:48:00.002-05:00

I think this is really really cool. NASA is asking the public to help name the next module of the space station. Being the geek that I am, I naturally voted for Serenity (the name of the Firefly in Joss Whedon's show of the same name). Go check it out!

2009-02-23T16:07:00.003-05:00

Two posts in one day. Must need a new hobby.

Or maybe just a new project. Enter this sweater, which I am COMPLETELY smitten with. I NEED to knit this. And it's been a long time since I've said that...but I saw it on the Harlot's site today, and I can't resist it. I'm thinking of a nice beautiful yarn...something that will drape nicely so my "girls" will not make me look pregnant in a sweater like this. Oh, it's so lovely and I"m getting chills just thinking about it.

I think I'll finish some of my deadline knitting....and the sweater will be my reward. Yes, that's exactly what I'll do.

A convergance of Green

2009-02-23T14:18:00.002-05:00

Sometimes the world just slaps you upside the head and says "hey! Have you thought about this lately?" Today was just such a day.

Day started with a call from a dear friend during breakfast. I met dear friend when we were 15 (!) at a Girl Scout camp in Germany....Long story short we were part of a 12-girl, 2-leader team from the US selected to represent our country at an arts camp in Bavaria. The trip included living with German Scouting families, sightseeing (including Prague...while it was still communist), and a two week camp where 20 countries (or so, she'll correct me if that's wrong) and over 5,000 scouts (of all sexes, nationalities and ages) gathered. It was, hands down, one of the most incredible experiences in my life. Said friend, and another friend...I'll use their Livejournal names Purlewe and HunterMHolstein for purposes of this post....we've been friends forever. There were entire years and stretches of years where we didn't talk, lost touch, then one day I'll pick up the phone and someone will be in the middle of a conversation that was interrupted five years ago...and we just pick up where we left off. There is one other person in this world who I have been friends with longer, we met because we had the same socks at Girl Scout camp when we were five. FIVE! We stood up in each other's weddings...we meet and have playdates with our kids...I call her mom "mom"... These three people (plus two others...) make up my "mafia of five"...the people I could call to help me move a body. Three of these five were brought into my life because of scouting. I love them so fiercely they might as well be family. They are family...

So then I was out a'drivin and talking to another friend, who happens to be a co-leader of her daughter's Girl Scout troop, and we had a long converstion about Scouting and how the leaders make the experience, and how wonderful it can be.

Then I come home and check my Email. A scouting friend from LONG ago...someone who was one of my leaders at day camp when I was Jr. Counselor...she's found me on Facebook. Wonderful! This is one of those times when I"m glad to be on FB...and so happy that people can find me.

And it strikes me that yesterday was Thinking Day, and that Purlewe and I were talking about that this morning.

For those of you who don't know what that is, I'll quote from the Girl Scout website: "World Thinking Day not only gives girls a chance to celebrate international friendships, but it is also a reminder that Girl Scouts of the USA is part of a global community—one of nearly 150 countries with Girl Guides and Girl Scouts." For me, scouting has been all about community and friendship, and this year I really started to ponder this. When I was a kid ( and now, too, naturally ) I was absolutely blessed to have what I believe to be the best parents ever. They are really really good people. But I also had this incredible community of adults who were interested in me and in my life...many of them were Scout leaders. Some were men, some were women, but they were all devoted to making the lives of girls better. I'm sure they didn't think about it this way at the time, or maybe they did, but they were dedicated to teaching us that we were strong, capable, and able to do what we wanted for ourselves. I have wonderful memories of my leader letting us use power tools to do woodworking in his basement and garage, just because we wanted to...and being so very very patient with us. My Girl Scout leaders during Jr. High and High School were a husband and wife team who did a lot for our community. I don't think they let men be leaders now, but Mr. H. was a big influence on me and a wonderful person.

My community now is still made of people who I met through scouting. As I mentioned, my circle consists of important people that I met here...they are the ones who drop everything when I need it (and as the past year will attest, sometimes I really need it). And I will do the same for them.

So this year I'm thinking, I'm thankful and I owe so much to this organization. It was not always "cool" to be a Scout....I was definitely under the radar for many years in High School. But I never quit, because I had people dedicated to making that experience wonderful. I'm so very thankful for the person they helped me become.

Happy Thinking Day, everyone!

525,600 minutes

2009-02-14T09:59:00.004-05:00

Dear Ben:
I can't believe that today marks one year that you have been away from us. I feel a little sick today thinking about how much you are missed....how much I miss you...how much we all miss you.

Although you left behind an emptiness in our hearts, life does go on, and it won't wait for us. Your daddy and I have done our best to be present with your brother, to love him and not let our grief get in the way of that. It has been hard. We wish so much that you were here to grow up with him...to be brothers.

I still find it so hard, so often, not to talk about you. I still bring you up in conversation as "my older son" or "my oldest son". I think you will remain so for a long time. It brings up some uncomfortable moments, then, when people ask where you are...usually strangers...and I have to explain. This could so easily be avoided by not talking about you at all, but how is that possible?

You see, Ben, even though we miss you and are sad, it is impossible not to speak of you. To smile when I tell people what a miracle you were...are... I still find myself wanting to tell people how incredible your life was. How you were not supposed to live, and yet you not only lived (in the biological sense), you LIVED (in the joyful sense). I cannot describe to people who never met you how amazed I still am at your joy, your smile, your life, your determination.

And there are things I will never be able to tell anyone about...things that mothers understand. What it felt like to hold you for the first time. The feeling of your hands on my cheeks when you would pull my face to yours and laugh. The sound of your laughter. The sound of your morning song. The weight of you in my arms. The feeling of holding you that last night...at two am...listening to your breath.

And there are the things that so very very few understand...Living with the knowledge that your child is not yours....people say they know this, but it is different for those parents who get the news your dad and I did. The determination it takes to grit your teeth, overlook all the frustration and fear and forget your emotions when talking to a doctor, a specialist, a nurse, a pharmacist, a teacher. Explaining again and again and again what is "wrong". Explaining again and again and again that there is nothing to be done. The feeling you get when you are comforting someone about YOUR own child's condition...when they look at you with that look that says "how do you live with this?" What it is like to feel the weight of a soul leaving the body.

I know these things.

People who have lost someone say they will never forget...and I can say the same. But it feels silly to say that, knowing as I do that it's not like there is a choice to forget. You are a part of me...like my own skin. I have no choice but to remember. I am relieved that I remember. There are, however, things that slip away...your smell, the feeling of your hair on my fingers. I fear that over time I will forget things I would rather not..like the sound of your laugh or what it was like to hear you sing.

Today and tonight we will light a candle for you, Ben. We will do the same next weekend on your birthday. We light a candle to remember you and remember how much we love you. Today is not a day for me to have to be strong...today I can just feel, and remember, and love you.

We miss you so much, Tiny Man.

C'mon spring!

2009-02-12T13:00:00.003-05:00

Now that all the snow is gone, I find that I"m just completely disenchanted with this whole winter thing. I mean, I live where I do because I like winter...okay, it's not my FAVORITE season, but being a homebody and all, I love being able to curl up in my house and putter all day while the wind and snow and cold rage outside. I love cooking comfort food and feeding Hubby with it. I love knitting in front of a good DVD. I feel guilty doing any of this in the middle of the day when it's "nice" outside and I should be out soaking up the sun. But this week? yeah. The snow is gone and so is the love. Let's get a move on, spring.

We've been in the house completely too much lately...most of the week, actually. The plus side of this is that I've been a bit...well...compulsive this week, so the house is clean and pretty. The down side is that the house is now clean and pretty and I'm STILL IN IT. I need to get out. I sense a trip to...well, somewhere this afternoon to get out of this place. Toast and I did go for a lovely long walk on monday (that coupled with the cleaning earned me more than a few activity points for my weekly Weight Watchers total, let me tell you), and that did help.

I think part of this whole cabin fever thing is the aforementioned weather, part of it is the timing...this week marking the one year anniversary of Tiny Man's death. It's been a rough time. We were supposed to go to a memorial service last saturday, but did not due to the extreme migraine I had all day. To answer the question, maybe it was caused by tension and subconscious...I don't know. I do know that I have very mixed feelings about missing the memorial. On one hand I really would have liked to have gone....but our hospice team is still making visits, so we see them regularly anyway. And the timing for us, the weekend before the one year mark, was very poor. So maybe next year we'll try again.

I spoke to a friend this week about anniversaries like the sort I'm experiencing now. She asked if I was remembering everything from this week last year, and the answer is yes. I remember what I was doing with Tiny Man each and every day of this week last year. It's so vivid it almost scares me. We have made plans for this weekend and next to be out of the house and with family, and I think that this is a wise decision. I"m looking forward to it.

Perhaps some thrifting at salvation army this afternoon.....

Book Review: The Art of Racing in the Rain

2009-02-12T12:13:00.000-05:00

The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
*possible plot spoilers?*

I put off reading this for a long time, I hate books where animals die. Where the Red Fern Grows still haunts me. Anyway, I enjoyed this book so much...the passages from Enzo's point of view where both funny (because they were serious in the way a five-year old is serious) and poignant. The author did a really excellent job of dealing with the timeline of the story, and how it was told; managing to get in important details but not getting away from the important themes and the relationship between dog and owner. I don't know why I waited so long to read this.

View all my reviews.

Sensitive new-age man

2009-02-02T09:52:00.002-05:00

I lost my wedding ring last week. Yes, I panicked...looked high and low, etc etc. It was missing for a week and we found it yesterday, so balance is restored in my world. But that's not the story.

When I found my ring, I had been so worried about having lost it, I started to cry. I couldn't help it...I was so glad to have it back. Toast leaned out of hubby's arms, into mine, wrapped his little arms and legs around me and laid his head on my shoulder. "It's alright, mama," I could feel him thinking.

I just got off the phone with our hospice nurse...well, her voicemail. I"m trying to set up some visits to help us get through this month of anniversaries, and I had a few questions about the memorial service for all of the kids hospice served who left this earth in the past year. I couldn't get through the call without crying. Toast looked at me, so concerned, and when I picked him up...from a sea of toys that he had been decimating ten seconds before...he snuggled in and laid his head on my shoulder. "It's alright, mama."

I know, my man, I know.

Freakin' Sunshine and Unicorns...

2009-01-29T14:58:00.003-05:00

Oh, lovely little blog. The house begins to fall apart and you get so neglected. You know, someone gets sick...then cuts two molars...then winds up with an ear infection and I'm all "what blog!"

A few things..
I don't think I blogged about Weight Watchers, but I have started again. I did this back in...2002? Yes, I think that was it. And I lost a TON of weight. Not enough to make me look like a clothes rack, but I felt really really good and had a ton of energy. I learned how to eat properly, which is why I LOVE this program so much. But then...well, life happened....
So I'm back on the horse. The first week I lost 3 lbs, which is pretty good. I'm doing it online, and I LOVE that...it's very very easy to keep track of everything. Especially when one enjoys quality time with the ol' Mac like I do. So, I'll probably be posting updates on that here and there, trying to keep myself honest and all.

Project 365 (new! with improved coffeemomma "lite" adjustments) is going well. I"m remembering to take pictures every day, which is half the battle. I post them on my flickr page, which is here. I have done three weeks worth of layouts for my book, so I'm keeping up on that also. There are some things I really love about this. One, I'm really really trying to stay away from "scrapbooking" these pages. I'm putting in the pictures on plain cream-colored paper. The exception is the tags for recording what each picture is about, and I'm using pre-made tags in most cases, or making my own. I want the focus to be on what was happening, no matter how mundane (one picture this week was of my shoes). It all seems so silly now, but in the big picture, I'm fascinated by what life was like "back when" for people I know...and that's the boring stuff no one likes to talk about. So I'm picturing the boring stuff! At the end of the month maybe I'll post some of my layouts to show what I'm doing.

Oh, and on the crafty front. This is disgusting:
This? This is the SIX knitting projects I have started. Some knitters? They start lots of things at once, they knit like the wind. They buy and stash yarn in huge quantities. Not me. I'm not a fickle girl. I like to start on a project and see it through. So okay, maybe two...but one will be a pair of socks and we all know those don't count. But SIX? What, do I have Fibre ADD? Apparently. The worst part is ONLY ONE of these is a challenging project...the others are QUICK knits. But not for me. Oy. So I'm working on finishing these up. Oh...and ONE of them is a deadline knit...I stole for a wedding gift that is "due" in May and is my first big lace project...so I really need to be plodding along on that and I'm not. Geeze. (Flickr has this picture with notes so you can see what each thing is, if you're into that kind of thing).

So we're alive and kickin' here....Toast is on the mend (oh, you didn't know I was talking about him in the first paragraph?) and we're feeling fine. Loving the snow, hating the cold. Too bad they come in a pair. :)

Not the first

2009-01-21T09:08:00.002-05:00

Many things will be written about yesterday's events, and most will be far more eloquent than I could achieve. I have to just note a few things, though, to record my own experience.

First, how beautiful, graceful, confident, amazing and lovely is Michelle Obama? I was completely struck by her presence as her own person, instead of a sort of "lady in waiting" as most first ladies seem to be.... I was also struck by how visible the relationship she has with her husband is. These are not two people who are in a marriage and also in public life...these are two people who are in love, married, and working as a team to achieve their lives. Oh, and he's president now... That's really the way it appears to me. I love that when they look at each other you can see the respect, love, and team effort that is the rock of their marriage.

Like many, the fact that there were so many shots looking out over the west (? was it the west?) lawn of the Capitol on to the Washington Monument and the mall in the distance. I could not help but remember grainy black and white images of the march on Washington and Dr. King's speech at the Lincoln memorial so many years ago. As I listened to our new president speak, Toast (who had been sick all day) was fast asleep in my arms. I wept a little, thinking of what kind of world he would inhabit, and so filled with hope for our country and the world my son will live in.

I wondered if they would use President Obama's (that has a nice ring!) middle name in the swearing in. He has openly acknowledged the baggage a name like Hussein has, and we all know that. I feel that by not shying away from using his full name, even with that baggage, it was a signal that we can move on, that fear of ideas will only hold us back. I"m sure that it wasn't analyzed that much from his end...but I'm glad there was no shying away from using his middle name.

On a much much lighter note, how much of an idiot did the Chief Justice make of himself! You are swearing in a man to the highest office in the nation. Do you think you could make sure you have the words right? Incredibly disrespectful. I was really dissapointed at that.

I am glad that we will have a fresh approach to things for a little while. Those who know me are aware of my feelings toward the Bush administration, and it's not necessary to rehash them. Though I am no fan of the last eight years, I have enormous respect for the office of the president and the enormity of the job. I do think, if being fair, that no matter what you think of the previous or current administrations, it's just time for someone else to have a go at things. Let's look at this country, it's problems and successes, with fresh eyes and start again. There is nothing that can't be fixed, I hope.

Why 2009 is important.

2009-01-18T19:44:00.004-05:00

I've already said I don't make resolutions. Because I break them. But I have made a commitment to myself for this year: get happy. This entails a lot of things, but mostly it's about balance. Balance between being a good mom and being a happy person. So there are some things I'm doing to try and make sure I take care of myself.

First, I mentioned in an earlier post that I'm going to try and craft every day. I love a lot of crafts, knitting is like breathing for me, I have to do it every day. I'm also passionate about scrapbooking, I like embroidery, I like to make things from old objects, to reuse things in new ways. Before Toast was born, we had his room set up as a library/craft area....all of our books and my craft stuff were there. When we were getting ready for his arrival, I boxed everything up, we moved the books to the living room, and I didn't make anything for a long time. When he was born I also stopped knitting, because I had no time. Then I began to slowly come unglued. I was very unhappy. It is difficult to adjust to two children, and I had no outlet for myself.

When Tiny Man died, we didn't do anything with his room for a long time. Slowly we began to change that, and after a few months I set my craft things up in there again. It felt okay, and I like being in there with the "Little Prince" murals on the wall to remind me of him. But It didn't feel like my space...and slowly it began to feel less like his, too. But I thought, I don't want to get to comfy...we don't know what we are going to do in terms of having another child, and if we do we will need that room. (No, I refuse to make my kids share a room because I have too much stuff or need my space. it's not an option). But then I thought of something. We do have a basement. It's not pretty and it's not finished, but we could carve out a little space down there for me, should another Coffeemamma offspring come along. So in the meantime, I could work on creating a space for myself, knowing I can move it should the need arise.

So that's what I did this weekend. I had some storage, but it wasn't working the way I wanted so I moved things around. I purchased a desktop drawer unit from Ikea for pens and things, and painted some tins with chalkboard paint for more storage. I used what I had and this is what happened:

Everything is old, with the exception of the black and tan drawer unit you see in the corner (the black is chalkboard paint). I also bought a new holder for scrapbooking embilishments that you can't see well. It's on top of the middle drawer unit. The table next to my drafting table is Hubby's kitchen table from when he was single. The drafting table is something I bought when I was single, and the nightstand in the back has been mine forever. I like the way the drawers and that small nightstand work for storage.
Next to the desk is a crate with some storage for stamps. On top of that is a sticker/embelishment binder and some baskets of things that don't fit anywhere else...chipboard letters and the like. These are pretty, but they will have to be moved because I'm sure Toast will get into them lickety-split!
The dresser was Tiny man's, and we aren't sure we won't need it, so it stays. It's holding sewing supplies, my yarn stash (one drawer, I'm not a yarn stasher...but my scrapbook supplies make up for that). On top are some jars with supplies, as well as the tins I painted. These are NOT very visible, but trust me they are cute. The table will hold my sewing machine, when I get it out of storage in the closet.

So there it is. I'm not a creative genius, but I like having my space here. I like that there is a box of toys tucked in there for Toast (even if he prefers raiding my craft drawers instead). I LOVE that I can be in there with the memory of my Tiny man and work on his scrapbooks. It's a peaceful little place for me.