Good kitty, bad kitty

Seamus has taken to stalking, "killing", and presenting Lauren's small stuffed animals to us. Cute, yes. During the day when this happens, we praise him for being a good hunter. But, problem is, he's taken to gifting us at 3 AM. He will stand with the stuffy in his mouth meowing until acknowledged.

The first time this happened, I dropped the stuffy in my bedside stand and rolled over to go back to sleep. Now that it's become nearly a nightly occurrence, I sometimes momentarily lose my faculties and place it on the top of the table. Ohh, bad choice. This means he snatches it up again, spends about a half hour stalking and "killing" it, and then presents it again at 3:30 AM.

Ohh sweet sleep. How I crave thee...

The girls

Lindsay and Lauren, June 2007

Epiphany goes to the gynecologist

I always leave the gynecologist wondering what the heck possesses a seemingly normal person to go into this specialty.

I walked in, and the nurse scowled at me. I sighed, suddenly remembering why I habitually made all my ob visits after 4 PM. I retrieved a clipboard with a form marked "Returning Patient Form" and sat on the couch.

"Is all your information the same, Stacy?" Nurse Scowly shouted through the reception window at me without looking up.

"Epiphany. And yes, I think so." I replied.

"Your card."

"Uh...my card?"

"I need to make a copy of your insurance card," she said sounding irritated.

"Oh, sure. Here you are."

"You can go in."

I can go in where? I stepped into the hallway between the exam rooms and waited. Am I just supposed to pick a room and sit in it?

Alas, no. I was weighed. She took my blood pressure, and announced, "You're stiff as a cadaver."

"Sorry." I replied.

"Put on the paper gown. He will be in in a minute."

The temperature on Wednesday in Jersey hovered around 100 degrees. My clothes had been chosen because they were non-clingy. The paper gown just barely came together in the front. Nice, I thought. Well, at least there's a drape. I hoped to manage to situate myself so that the front was mostly closed on top and then put the drape over my lap for more coverage. As I hopped up on the exam table, the paper on the table made a loud crinkling sound and my gown now wouldn't close at all. I began to notice that although the hallway was a frigid 65 degrees, the exam rooms themselves were unairconditioned. The paper gown was now adhered to my back. As I shifted to release it, the shoulder of the gown ripped. Oh lovely. The door knob turned.

"Hello," my doctor smiled. "How are you doing?" He touched my arm.

"Good." I said. "I'm conducting an experiment to see if the glue on these gowns will hold up to extreme conditions." I pointed to the ripped shoulder. "It doesn't."

He smiled again, and I realized he wasn't listening, but reading my chart.

I stared at him.

He looked up and smiled. "Ha ha." He said. "I was reading your chart."

"I see that."

"Are you allergic to sulfa?"

"Yes." There's a big sticker on the outside of my chart that says SULFA ALLERGY.

"What happens when you have sulfa?"

"I get a rash." I replied.

"Do you smoke?"

"No."

"Do you drink alcohol?"

"Yes."

"More than one drink per day?"

"That's what it takes to get through a day..."

"Is something bothering you?" he asked quietly.

"No." I assumed he meant other than hot and wearing an ill-fitting paper gown.

"Okay, I'm going to get the nurse." He smiled, and touched my knee as he got up.

I don't know if it's supposed to be more comfortable that there's another person in the room hanging out during your exam. This was the worst though, because Nurse Scowly became suddenly animated and began talking to the doctor about another nurse that works there. I felt like an odd centerpiece to this conversation, with my disintegrated gown now barely covering me. At the end of the exam, he smiled and said, "And the moral of the story is, never get old."

I replied dryly, "Well, it beats the hell out of the alternative."

He laughed. "I suppose it does. You can get dressed now." He patted my foot.

"Oh, thank God, Rob," said Nurse Scowly. "You know this poor girl was just about to die when she came in here. I've never seen anyone so nervous."

I'm the one who seemed odd and out of place. After all, women clad in paper with feet in stirrups happens hourly for them.

Difficult things

"It's hard to be quiet."

"Yes."

"But it's usually worth it..."

"Okay..."

"Because usually we have huggle time and I like hugs."

"Me too."

A better picture of Lindsay and her drinking buddy

Lindsay and Ernie, June 2007

Lindsay at playgroup

Sorry these are a little blurry, these were captured on my camera phone. Lindsay is hanging out with her friend, Ernie, who is 2 days older than she. Ernie had a sippy cup of water. In the bottom frame, he's helping Lindsay have a sip. Seriously, does it get cuter than that?

Flashy shoes

We've been working on learning to put shoes on the correct feet, and for the butterfly sneakers we bought last week (the third pair she's owned) that means they don't "kiss", but rather they live on the outsides of her feet.

I peeked in on her finishing putting on a pair of pink socks, smiling that she managed to have the non-skid lettering on the bottoms of her feet for once. Lauren sat on the floor, the new sneakers Nanny gave her in each hand. Silver with thin velcro straps across. They would look sort of sporty if they didn't have 5 princess on the outer heel of each shoe. Lauren received them reluctantly, lamenting that they weren't the flashy sneakers she so adored. She sat examining them. "Do the princesses kiss?" she asked finally.

"No, they belong on the outsides of the shoes, like the butterflies."

"They don't like each other?"

"No, they like each other OK, they're just busy, you know. Managing a kingdom and all..."

"Oh right," she replied, switching the left shoe into her left hand. She dropped the right shoe, and then began to laugh loudly.

"What happened?"

"Mom, look!" She picked up the right shoe and hurled it at the floor. "Nanny was wrong!"

"What do you mean?"

"Look!" She threw the shoe at the floor for a third time. "Don't you see it flashing? Nanny was wrong. These ARE flashy shoes!"

Other people's parties

Lindsay and Michael hang out in baby jail

Lindsay and I attended her friend Michael's first birthday party yesterday. It is, I would imagine, like when my friends hang out at our family parties. Which is to say, the sport is figuring out who belongs with whom and extra points if you can identify the freak relative.

Within moments of her arrival at Michael's party, it was clearly Aunt Shannon. I didn't quite realize how high her freak flag was waving until I put together that it was her 3-year-old daughter Mickie who consumed 5 juice boxes and 3 of those 12-ounce solo cups filled with potato chips and Cheetos. I thought, I wonder if she'll pee herself or puke first.

During cake time, the betting ended, and I noticed that Mickie's jeans were soaked through. At that moment, I realized I was standing too close to Aunt Shannon, who was busy discussing Mickie's accident record with Aunt June. I quickly made myself busy clearing the plates from a table.

"Hey," Kimberly sidled up to me at the table. "All I can smell is urine. What the heck?"

"Mickie had an accident." I replied.

"Seriously? Why is she walking around in peed-on clothes? Does her mother know?"

"Unfortunately, yes - her mother does know...and no, I don't know why she hasn't been changed."

We exchanged a knowing look. "Did I tell you about Aunt Shannon?"

"Yes. But you didn't have to. It's...well...apparent."

Keep on rockin' me, baby

I got nominated as a Rockin' Girl Blogger, thanks to Mimi over at Mimi Writes. Part of the great honor of serving as a Rockin' Girl Blogger means you have to pay it forward. I'll give you 5 of my Rockin' Girl Peeps. You get to put this pretty pink badge on, if you want. And pay it forward yourselves.

1. Jessica at Kerflop.
2. Heather at Oh My Stinkin' Heck.

Heather's blog almost always has me on the verge of snarfing a beverage (for the inexperienced, that's when you laugh when you're drinking and it comes out your nose). Jessica's blog I've laughed good hearty belly laughs at, and cried at, and wished I could give this woman I've never met a hug from time to time.

3. Karen at Reason Enough...
The portrait she snapped of eight-year-old Ross? Excellent. Knowing she said "fart" in order to get him to smile? Well, now that is reason enough for a rockin' blogger girl nomination.

4. Sybil at The Plaid Sheep
Tackling some sticky issues over at her blog, which I admire.

5. Kimberly
I'm not sure she's ready to be outed as a blogger yet. But damn, when she is, her blogs have legs. Yes, I said blogs. She's writing 2 of them. Two, people!

Thanks again, Mimi! This was fun.

Snippets from a phone conversation, and following my own advice

"You're the only one who has the power in your life to derail your own plans." I said.

"I know," he laughed. "Back atcha."

Making changing in my own life is rather like trying to slay a dragon. I know what I need to do, but actually doing it? Really damn hard. Stupifyingly hard.

Almost as much

"I love you the most of all, Daddy."

"Aww. Thanks, honey."

"Well, actually, I love you and turtle the same."

"Well, that's still nice."

"Ok, well, I love you almost as much as I love turtle..."

Last day of school

Today was punctuated with cheers and tears. The last day of school was harder on Lauren than I thought, and she cried on the way home, declaring how much she was going to miss her teacher.

I have been dreading the end of school, as our routine has slowly unraveled over the past two weeks. I was stoic, walking home from the library with the girls this evening, trying to sort out how to fill 10 weeks with fun and enrichment without parting from my sanity.

Yeah, after that, I will contemplate lesser stuff, like, say, the meaning of life...

Babies need new pairs of shoes

So, they got them. Lauren selected "tied-y-up shoes with flashy butterflies" and Lindsay's are sandals for walkers. If you look closely, you can see Lindsay's wearing nylon peds. Very classy, right?

For posterity...well, and also for those of you who become so smitten with little girls' shoes that you must purchase them and send them along...they are wearing toddler sizes 3 and 8.

Happy Father's Day

I think her secret might be "break a leg". Or was it "Elmo loves you"?

Have a great day, Dad!

Carnival

Lauren sincerely amazes me sometimes. She managed to convince the carnie operating the Frog Hopper to let this group of kids ride on it 3 times.


"May we please ride again?" she asked, sweetly. "There's no one waiting in line."

The carnie pulled a face, but instead of rejecting the request, she looked around and then hit the Go button on her ride. Lauren did it again, to the same response. After riding 3 times, she smiled at the carnie and said, "You've sure got a great ride! Thanks so much for letting us ride it."

My daughter conned a carnie.

Alec and Lauren riding on Bertha the geriatric elephant, who I believe was quite possibly older than God. Lauren pet the large elephant and announced, "Isn't she beautiful?"


We left as the sky began to darken, and a summer storm passed through.

Bedtime

"Let's say goodnight to Lauren..."

"Ni-ni, Lolo."

"Give Lolo kisses?"

"Mmmmwah." she said, planting her opened mouth on Lauren's cheek. "Lisy huhs?"

"Lindsay would like a hug..."

"Nite nite, Lin-Lin." Lauren put her arm around Lindsay.

Lindsay wrapped her chubby arms around Lauren's neck. "Ni-ni," she said cheerfully.

"Ni-ni..." Lauren echoed.

Happy birthday, Alec!

The monthly exchange

As the school year comes to a close, we've been lucky enough to have some great friends to hang out with most days. Lauren has play dates otherwise about once a week or so. I realize I'm not the most outgoing person, but my social ineptness doesn't deter most of her classmates' parents.

There's one family in particular that every time I actually talk to either of them, which averages about once a month, we have the same exchange:

Stan: Hi there!

Epiphany: Hey, Stan.

Stan: Cindy would love to have a play date with Lauren.

Epiphany: Lauren would like that.

Stan: We should schedule one soon.

Epiphany: Yes. That would be great.

Stan: See you later...

I've actually had 2 phone conversations with Cindy's mom, Eleanor. We should schedule a play date soon.

Perhaps they think I need a lot of notice to schedule because of Lindsay? Or if they're really busy because they have at least one teen-aged kid, and are hoping I'll take the lead and have it at our house?

Weird, right?

Almost 30 seconds with an almost 13 month old

Musical meme

Tagged by Mimi, Queen of Memes. All hail the Queen!

Come
As you are
As you were
As I want you to be
As a friend
As a friend
As a known memory
Take your time
Hurry up
The choice is yours
Don't be late
Take a rest
As a friend
As a known memory
Memory ah
Memory ah
Memory ah

Nirvana was huge in 1992, the year I went to the prom. The year I moved to Boston. I voted for the first time that year. My roommate, Marcie, was from Portland and much more into this alternative music - I'd grown up in a rock 'n' roll household and most of the CDs I brought along with me were classic - Beatles, Pink Floyd, and Led Zeppelin.

Smells Like Teen Spirit was the bigger hit, but I always liked Come as You Are better. It was unfathomable that only 2 years later, Cobain would take his own life.

Consider yourself tagged if you want to play. The rules are:

1. Go to Popculture Madness.
2. Pick the year you turned 18.
3. Get yourself nostalgic over the songs of the year.
4. Write something about how the song affected you.
5. Pass it on to 5 more friends.

Another day, another word

Lindsay sat on the floor at the ophthalmologist's office, taking items out of her diaper bag one at a time.

"Those are wipes." I said.

She set them down, and reached for a block.

"That's a block."

She put the block down and picked up a green bottle of bubbles. "Bubble." she said.

We both laughed. "Yes," I said. "Those are bubbles." I opened them and blew them above her head, and she giggled as they drifted down and popped on her arms.

To add to the whys

Lindsay: Whassat?!

Epiphany: That's Seamus.

Lindsay: Whassat?!

Epiphany: A table.

Lindsay: Whassat?!

Kindergarten, here she comes!

Jackhammers at dawn's break

Seriously. We had a water main break at 6 AM. The pipe is in front of our next door neighbor's house. So not only were we awakened at the crack of dawn to construction, but we have no water to boot. No water, and I haven't been grocery shopping...so we found ourselves trying to brush our teeth without using too much of the pint-sized bottle of water retrieved from the pantry.

The notice from our department of water and sewers says 8 hours, and then we have to boil our tap water for 48 hours after that.

Oh, did I mention yet about the cat pee smell?

Or that we're having a house guest for the rest of the week?

Nooo? Hmm.

Can I come stay with you for a while?

Yet another pet peeve

We had a water main break in town on Wednesday. I sat nervously for 4 cycles of lights waiting to cross a flood at Raritan Avenue, knowing the SUVs and minivans in front of me could cross without difficulty, but my hatchback is pretty low to the ground, and there was a veritable river of brown water gushing down our main street.

We have 2 elementary schools in town. The one Lauren goes to is pre-kindergarten through grade 1, and the other is grades 2-5. There are staggered dismissals so that children in our district may utilize the same buses.

As I was sitting at the light, groups of kids were walking from the intermediary school to the library. Although there's a crosswalk in front of the library, drivers were encouraging kids to jaywalk in front of their cars even though the oncoming traffic was not similarly slowed. I was getting progressively more agitated as I saw cars have to stop suddenly because kids were wandering in the street - looking in every direction except for where there were cars. I'm sure the parents of these 8 through 11 year olds would be alarmed to see them listing into the road, encouraged by motorists to cross into traffic, when they'd probably been told hundreds of times to use the crosswalks.

Things they don't teach in school

I came downstairs this morning to find Lauren sitting patiently, hands folded, at the dining room table. As I went into the kitchen, I nearly tripped over a loudly meowing Seamus.

"Do you suppose he wants breakfast, too?" I asked Lauren.

"Well, you see. The thing is," Lauren began, sighing impatiently, "I just don't speak cat."

"Oh," I replied. "Ok."

"Once someone teaches me cat, I will let you know what Seamus wants."

Dona Nobis Pacem

It's time to end this war that's gone on too long.

You've got to be kidding me

We arrived at the library as we do 2 mornings a week, toting a canvas bag with 8 books to return, and Lindsay's diaper bag with our lunch packed in it. As Lauren took out the books, one by one, and placed them into the book return slot, she said something she liked about the book. I noticed as she was in the middle of this task, that a young Hispanic girl, about 4 or 5 years old, was standing beside her watching carefully. A quick look around didn't reveal an obvious parent.

She followed us into the play area, and Lauren chatted with her happily. The little girl began taking everything out of the toy boxes - stuffed animals, trains, puzzles - and began throwing them on the floor. After the play area was sufficiently decimated, she began running a circle around the perimeter of the room.

Lauren isn't allowed to leave the play area with toys. While the library staff doesn't demand that the kids clean up after playtime, it seems needlessly annoying to leave the toys outside of their designated area. Also, when we're sitting in that area, if she leaves to go into the aisles of books or to the front where the children's reading area is, I can't see her. I caught sight of her mother at this point, she basically just poked her head in to see that her daughter was playing with mine, and then disappeared.

There are usually at least a couple of kids playing in this area, and often enough with parents with 2 or 3 kids, if they have to take one to the bathroom or to change a diaper, they'll ask if you would mind watching their kid. I don't have a problem with that, but this woman never even acknowledged me, and yet expected I would keep track of her kid - her not very well behaved kid at that. After warning Lauren 3 times about not leaving the play area, I declared that we were done playing and we would go select our books. The little girl followed. At the point where they left the table while I was reading because the girl wanted to hide behind the bookcase where I couldn't see Lauren (and that's what the girl said where your mom can't see you) I packed us up and we left.

Surrogate

I stayed with my mother and my step-father this weekend to celebrate my step-brother's second marriage. Although the event was sort of a disconnect - I had not met my step-brother's wife until the day before his wedding.

As I met her 3 sisters, brothers-in-law, niece and nephews, the last hand mine connected with was Laurie's, my now step-sister-in-law, if there is such a relationship. I smiled, and she kissed my cheek. She looked exactly like my friend Rebecca.

"It's great to finally meet you," she said warmly, in that voice - that same voice.

It was quite possibly the most emotional rehearsal dinner and wedding I've ever attended. The bride cried during every toast at the rehearsal, and her father cried through the entire wedding and reception. It was such a surreal experience, the woman-who-looks-and-sounds-exactly-like-Rebecca marrying my step-brother. I realized at points it didn't work - the quiet and demure mom was nothing like Daphne, who passed away just over a year ago. And I've never met Rebecca's dad, but from what I've heard, I can't imagine he would cling to her with tears streaming down his face. I found a lump caught in my throat watching them.

It's amazing sharing the happiest day of someone's life, oddly even if you've never met.

This guy, again

Alec, in graduate school circa 1994

This is essentially a repost from last year, but, well. Rereading it, I don't think I can improve on it...

For those of you who know us well, you also know this story. We met at Emerson College in September 1992. I was in the third week of my freshman year. My workstudy job was putting in 15 hours a week in the box office at the Brimmer Street Theatre. The first show that year was The Miser, and Alec was the stage manager. The cast and crew of a production were entitled to some number of comped tickets, and Alec came by to claim his. He flirted and grinned. Later that day, at the first performance, a very different Alec rushed over in his show blacks, stopwatch in hand. He was terse because the box office manager, Dierdre, a graduate student, hadn't told me that I was supposed to keep an eye on the call light directly behind where I was sitting from the stage manager signaling that he wanted to close the front of house and start the show.

"Do you know what that flashing light means?" he hissed between his teeth.

"Tinkerbell is still alive?" I offered.

He set his jaw arrogantly. "The next time I use the call light, I expect an answer." With that, he stormed off.

Dierdre sat hunched over her ticket sales spreadsheet, her shoulders shaking with laughter. From that point forward, I just referred to him as "Tink", which seemed to fit his slight build and frenetic manner.

In March 1993, I was assigned to work patch panel (for nontheatre folk, I had to plug and unplug a bunch of circuits in a certain order during the course of the show) for a production called Story of Him. Alec designed the set, so he was there for production week. He came into the lightbooth to say hi to the lighting designer. Since the patch panel was mounted at about 5 feet, I was sitting on a table in the lightbooth, mostly waiting for my half dozen cues. It was dark in the booth, and we were all wearing our blacks, so he was startled to find me sitting behind him. He introduced himself.

"Yeah, Alec Stoll, I know who you are. You've introduced yourself five times now, so apparently you really want to know me, but just can't be bothered to remember my name. I hope you're paying attention this time, because the next time I'm just going to ignore you."

That got his attention. During the subsequent breaks, he seemed to always be wherever I was. He followed me into the lounge while I was smoking apparently to scold me as only an exsmoker does, to which I said something choice like "I don't care what you think". The next day, he invited me out to coffee after the call. By the end of production week, and the show's week long run, we were pretty much inseparable. I moved in with him in June 1993, and we got married almost exactly 3 years later on June 1, 1996. Five days after we got married, we packed all of our belongings into a Ryder truck, including Seamus the then very small cat and moved to Green Bay. In 1998, we moved back East, basically because I was tired of the Midwest, and we moved into an apartment we'd never seen, and Alec took a job for someone he'd never met.

Our wedding day: June 1, 1996

So our relationship now spans over 14 years - we've been married for 11 of those years, and parents together for almost 5. I fell in love with Alec when he was 20 years old and he will be 35 in a couple of weeks. I couldn't have possibly imagined at 18 that I'd meet this guy. That we'd fall in love, get married, and commit to spending our lives together. I had no glimmer in my eye of the 2 beautiful daughters we'd have. I fell in love with this guy because he was really smart and he made me laugh. He likes to tell people he's glad he met me when I was a kid because as a grown up I never would've put up with him.

Lauren and Alec, April 2007

But the truth is, I could've spent a lifetime searching and I would never found someone who loves me the way this guy does. Who really believes in me and shares in our successes and in is able to find the lessons behind our struggles, both as individuals and as a couple. Someone who just gets me. I am blessed to call this brilliant, adorable man my husband and I am very proud of him. He is an amazing Dad. He is passionate about his work. And above all else, he still makes me laugh. Remember, when I roll my eyes, I'm laughing on the inside, Schmoopie.

A very Stoll Christmas: December 2006