It may not be happening, but it did happen

I've been doing more than my share of whining lately. It's not very appealing or productive.

It occurred to me that my current state of upset is bigger than adjusting to the day without Lauren, my current level of activity including Irving, the PTO, art history class, church, whether or not Lauren can bring a snack for her class for her birthday, even flea abatement. My reactions are so far over the top from what's reasonable. I wrote today "I'm struggling a lot", and it is true but with what? I'm behaving as though the sky is falling.

And it dawned on me.

Seven years ago this Thursday, the sky fell.

And when I had that thought, I started sobbing uncontrollably. I write that with some guilt because although I was in NYC that day, I was 12 blocks away. Lives were much more effected than mine. I don't know anyone who never came home. But I can say when I think of that day, I feel the thick smoke caught in my throat. I hear the constant sirens roaring down Seventh Avenue. I remember how lost we were staring at signs in the twice closed Grand Central Station not able to comprehend.

There was heightened alert, as though you were constantly vigilant to hear what couldn't be heard and see what couldn't be seen. There were weeks when you had to plan your commute around the subway you were on being evacuated for suspicious packages and Anthrax scares. The fires burned at Ground Zero for months. The posters of the missing and then presumed dead their smiling faces from happy times of their lives holding children, dressed on their wedding day...spouses, children, parents were mourning them.

I just don't have the words to make you understand the ache inside me when confronted with all this. I have maintained media silence every 9/11, including the one I spent a year later in a New York City hospital a year later waiting for someone to tell me how my tiny 4 pound baby was doing because I was confined to my bed and she was in the NICU. The charge nurse who cheerily came in to introduce herself at the 7 AM shift change found me sobbing because I'd convinced myself I was never going to see little Lauren, and with all the drugs I was on they had just not told me yet she hadn't survived.

I'm not doing a good job of just pretending that it's just any day where we soldier on and walk on treadmills and go to school. I don't know what to do about that right now, but it seems I have 48 hours to figure that out.

First day of school

Lauren sporting her new "back to school" 'do, the butterfly dress with a built in sparkly necklace(!), and her 1st grade present - a ladybug bracelet from Auntie Jules.

More later...

Adoption notice

In response to...

Those poor animals, sounds as though you can't handle them. Why not put them up for adoption?They shouldn't be left outside while you take a nice vacation.

Two geriatric flea-infested black cats:

Nearly 14 year old male cat who will urinate and defecate on everything except the litter box. Particularly likes to poo on the seat of the dining room chairs. Lately, he makes a hornking noise when you look at him, as though he might cough up a hairball at any moment.

Twelve year old female cat has an anxiety disorder, or maybe an esophageal defect, or a combination of these two that results in random vomiting around the house. This usually occurs about 3 times per day, but up to 8. She prefers to vomit behind radiators and under furniture so that you find it months later, hardened like cement.

Overwhelmed

I wanted to share with you the very relaxing and wonderful vacation we had last week, but the past 40 hours or so since my return have been tremendously stressful. Despite the money we've spent having the house fumigated and bombed, the flea infestation was at a fever pitch when we returned on Saturday. Although we'd left Seamus outside, he snuck back in to soil several pieces of furniture. Alec had tried to shut Shannon out of our bedroom to keep her off of our mattresses, but it resulted in her getting locked in Lindsay's room. I can't blame her for using Lindsay's changing pad as her litter box. If you've watched nature shows featuring piranha, the fleas were similar when we returned. I immediately took the girls outside and sprayed them head-to-toe in bug spray.

We had had the foresight to schedule another bug treatment on Saturday afternoon, so Alec waited with Lindsay for the Orkin man, while Lauren and I went out to take care of some critical errands - buying presents for her friends' birthday party, replacing the pair of glasses Lin broke while we were on vacation. We finished in time to pick up Lindsay and Alec as the Orkin man told us that if we were to let the cats back in the house, Frontline or not, we'd be doing this until December or January.

We'd made the decision given Seamus' new no-litter policy, that he would be living in the yard from now on. We debated what to do with Shannon while we were out. I can give you a hundred rationalizations about why it's best for us to do that, but ultimately, Shannon herself made the decision. While we were out, she somehow escaped her pet carrier.

We spent yesterday throwing stuff away and vacuuming. I had saved quite a lot of Lindsay's smaller clothes in the drawers under her bed, where Shannon slept while trapped in her room. We bought a new vacuum, an upright canister vac with a HEPA filter and Alec vacuumed nearly every surface of the house. I've done approximately 8 loads of laundry, despite having returned from vacation with 3 suitcases of clean clothes. Today, there are still 3 loads in progress, and despite seemingly constant cleaning, our kitchen is too filthy to cook in, but the laundry and kitchen have to wait for other commitments today.

I'll tell you about vacation when I'm feeling a little less overwhelmed. Given school starts in 10 days and Lauren's birthday party is Saturday, that might not be soon...

My mind is still at the beach

Karen captured this moment. Bethi and I are walking out to look at the rocks. The storms from the night before hung over the eastern sky, strong enough to upset the canoe and lodge it underneath the neighbor's stairs to the beach.

What

I want to write about the weekend, leaving it in the warm, diffuse light of the Canadian sun shining through the windows of a cabin on the shore of Lake Erie. The warmth of wood walls painted in cheerful apples with Christian names of family who sleep in these bunks and tent in the yard. Who comb the beach looking for smooth stones with a hole that goes the way through.

I came without expectations...without anticipations.

The Steven King novella titled with a Ben E. King song came out the summer I turned 13. There's a line at the end about how you never have friends like you do when you're 12, and I remember the group I was in with and how we laughed easily and often. Your words spilled freely, some nice and some not, but they were accepted as they were and not subject to the later angsty teenage paranoia and interpretation.

To be in a group of women, a group of friends some of whom friends longer than half their lives, longer than they can remember a time before they were friends is like being able to step back into that moment of time when you were too self-conscious to let a friend see you exactly as you are and not as you'd like to be or as you like for people to see you.

And maybe it is this group of friends that the love is just so big and so deep that you're instantly enveloped in it.

And maybe it is being in a cottage so full of five generations of family.

Maybe it is the easy laughter, the in-jokes, the release of being undefined by husbands and children. Maybe it was the August snow and full arched rainbow in the middle of the drive home and yesterdays storms.

I feel renewed. And yet, already counting down the days until WTHS 2009...

Calling it like it is

Lauren: "You can't ride two riding toys at once, Lindsay. You only have one butt."

***

Lindsay: "No pizza bagel. No wan that! Ew. Bagel has cream cheese. No pizza."

***

Epiphany: "How about I put on your new sneakers?"
Lindsay: "How about not?"

***

Swear word goes here

My cats have fleas.

My toddler has borderline iron.

Today wasn't fun.

I just spent a small fortune in flea repellent, shampoo, spray, combs, and extermination.

Dr Google says iron deficiency is bad.

Craptastic.

Among life's great mysteries

Lindsay had a doctor's appointment about a week and a half ago. I don't know if it's a Jersey thing or a living in a very old house thing, but we were given a script to go to the lab and repeat her blood work from last year - CBC and lead.

When we sat down to do paperwork, the technician looked in horror at Lindsay's skinny arms. "It's for the baby? Oh no."

"She'll be fine." I replied brightly. "She didn't even notice last year."

She looked doubtful, but didn't reply.

As we sat in the scary looking blood drawing chair, Lindsay held her arm out and let the tech tie on the tourniquet. The tech's hands were shaking.

"They are just going to take a little blood out of your arm, Linds." I said calmly, as I held across her chest, pinning her right arm beside her. "And Mommy's giving you a special hug to help you keep still."

A second tech was there with the butterfly, sliding around the first who held Lin's arm taut. Lindsay watched, completely fascinated, as the needle pierced her skin. The second tech spoke quietly about the three tubes to the first, dropping each in her pocket as they filled. The first tech's hand was still now, looking at Lindsay's interested expression.

"I've never seen anything like that," she exclaimed.

"She doesn't mind needles." I replied.

The second tech stuck a purple sticker on Lindsay's shirt that read "I did very whale" with a cartoon whale on it.

"Tanks." Lindsay said.

A few days late, a few dollars short

We were in Atlanta last weekend - landed Friday afternoon and took off Sunday afternoon. We decided, in the tradition we started in San Diego, to end our first night with a trip to the local ballpark. It was a 7:30 PM first pitch with fireworks afterwards...

Turner is a nice park, and our seats were pretty good considering this was last-minute. We were behind home plate on the first mezzanine. It was a nice evening - about 80 degrees still when the sun set.

The girls were hella-tired. I'd forgotten Lindsay's blanket in the hotel room, which meant she couldn't nap in her stroller (she might not have anyway, but we would've had a better shot with blanket). I took Dad's approach of snack every 2 innings, and I have no idea if he was using it as a diversion technique, but it is an awesome one. Hot dogs in the 2nd inning, cotton candy in the 4th, and ice cream after the seventh-inning-stretch got us all the way to the fireworks...

...which were a lot more spectacular than I managed to capture. It really was an awesome 20 minute display and neither of my kids minded the big booms. What I didn't know about Atlanta was that the traffic is terrible. We spent an hour driving back to our hotel, which was only 4 miles away. We did the Walk-of-Shame you may have read about on Worst Mama.

We got up and had breakfast with Alec before he had to go to his conference, which was what he was there to do. We were there to spend time with our friends. I took the massive SUV we rented (alright, it was a Toyota Rav 4, which is a bit bigger than my Mazda 5) and drove out to Decatur to meet Jeremiah, Sarah, and Kate at the gazebo.

Sarah and Lindsay eyed each other. If they were dogs, this is where the sniffing would've started. Sarah said, "Hi, Baby" through her pacifier at Lindsay. Lindsay responded with a little wave. Kate and Lauren were instantly thick as thieves. They discussed relationships: "Where's your dad?" "He's at work." "What's his name?" "Alec." "My dad's name is Jeremiah." As well as their mutual admiration for Disney princesses. "So your favorite princess is Aurora? Mine is Snow White."

We went back to their house and met Lisa, with her brand new hair. The children played. We caught up. There were pork sandwiches with fried lemon (OMG! so good). Lisa and I tucked Sarah and Lindsay for naps and walked with the big girls to the Oakhurst Community Garden. Lisa blogged about the garden here, if you haven't seen it already - I didn't take pictures there for some reason. When the little girls woke up, we all went to the McKoy Park Pool.

Jeremiah playing with Lindsay. I think she's feeding him a toy. She thought he was hilarious, and just couldn't get his name right, so she just kept calling him "SarahDad". She called Lisa "Weesa".

Sarah and Lindsay

Lauren has some serious skills now she's taken some swimming lessons. She shows Lisa how long she can hold her breath underwater in this picture. Considering she wouldn't go IN the water at the beginning of the summer, this is a huge accomplishment.

Sarah plays in the fountain.

Lisa whipped up some smoothies for the girls for dinner, and Jeremiah got to work on some beef tenderloin.

"My kids need to go to sleep, "Lisa said. "Maybe we can put them all to bed and enjoy our dinner?"

And so, we did. Dinner was some serious meat candy. We enjoyed some wine and dark chocolate with rock salt for dessert. Lisa and Jeremiah helped get sleeping girls in the car and I headed back to the hotel.

On Sunday, we went to see the aquarium, and Alec finally was done with his conference. We met there around 9 AM, sharing sleepy expressions - Sarah had kept Lisa and Jeremiah up most of the night, and we just didn't sleep very well on the lumpy mattress at the hotel. The best thing was this giant tank:

My pictures from the aquarium were the worst of all. That's Kate and Lindsay looking into the giant tank. We saw the performingest octopus ever - usually you get to see a tentacle or two, but this guy was hanging out and actually swam across the tank. After the aquarium, we headed back to Lisa and Jeremiah's for lunch, and then had to make our way to the airport.

Atlanta - awesome. I chat with Lisa most days, so it was really cool to see her in person, and even better that our kids got along.

A quickie from moi

If I hear any more ABBA today, I think my ears are going to start bleeding. I. HATE. ABBA.

Off to Atlanta!

See you on Monday!

Things that made me laugh today

Why is it when I order pb&j sandwiches they come with enough of each to ooze out the sides and not cut in half? Who do sandwich makers think are eating these sandwiches? Today's version was on a pita which Lindsay kept calling "my pancake". Yum.

I sort children's clothes at our church's thrift shop on Tuesdays. It always seems like a daunting amount of work, and then it is so satisfying 2 hours later when the racks are all nicely organized. Today, I perked up when I heard Kathy say, "Oh what a nice size 1x jacket from Ashley Stewart!" "May I see it?" "Oh my gosh, you're not a 1x!" "Yes, I am. Ohhh. It is nice. I'm taking that today!" It was new, though without tags...and Lois charged me a dollar! I also bought a pair of never worn Dora boots in black "suede" for Lindsay for 50 cents.

Photographic evidence for Karen's thumb sucking and handedness experiment

Lauren has a Princess diary she's been writing in this summer. I figured it was a good way for her to practice writing without it seeming like an assignment. Of course, since Lindsay has to do everything Lauren does, she is "writing" in a book also.

Karen, Lindsay's handedness would appear not to support your theory. She always colors with her right hand, and yet she only sucks her left thumb. Alec is left handed, and I am right handed. Lauren is right handed.

Bittersweet

I had never felt so alone - and, yet, so connected to God - in the face of so much uncertainty.

Paige wrote about the anniversary of finding out Zane was on the way a few days ago. It's a great post about discovering your path to parenthood.

It was three years ago today I found myself in the emergency room with a ruptured left fallopian tube. Although my parents and my husband were there when I came out of surgery, I was with Nanny during the intake, tests, meeting the surgeon and all the things leading up to it. I was in the moment of all of my worst fears, and yet I was calm. At one point, she said, "Everyone is moving very slowly here." And I said, "I know. It means I am not dying. If I weren't OK, everyone would be moving very fast..."

As I was being wheeled into the operating room, I looked up to see the anesthesiologist. The surgeon was joking with the nursing staff about just needing a few tools, listing them, and then he said, "I'm pretty easy" which was met with some giggles. "Is it good to have an easy surgeon?" I asked studying his face.

"He's the best." replied the anesthesiologist.

Right before I was put under, I touched the sleeve of the surgeon.

He was saying something silly, but I don't recall what it was.

I said, "I know you're trying to put me at ease by joking, but I really need you to say, 'Everything is going to be okay, Heather'."

His eyebrows broadened as he smiled under his mask. "Everything is going to be okay, Heather."

And it was okay. It wasn't good. But I walked away from that with a different appreciation about what I wanted from life, and although that's on the short lists of worst days of my life, it was...okay.

The girls

Lindsay and Lauren, July 2008

No, I have no idea why Lindsay is making a Gene Simmons face. I am pretty sure she doesn't know who he is. To further complete your morning:

"Hey, Lindsay, I have something to show you."

"I coming. I coming." Lindsay climbs down the stairs. "Wassamatta?"

"Nothing, I wanted to show you something."

"Oh! Hewwo, Lawwen."

"Hi, Linds."

Coolness

My discovery of the week is many great beverage reuses for a peanut jar. I have been making cold-brewed iced coffee in it, but who knew you could also make a super-concentrated cold-brewed iced tea? It means I can use pretty much any tea to make iced tea, not just the ones in the flat teabags.

Last night, after I finished my dinner of grilled salmon, squash with pesto, and couscous, I piled my plate high with the locally grown organic red leaf lettuce. I had some Annie's Sesame Dressing on it. Mmm mmm. Lauren eyed my plate.

"Do you want some?"

"Maybe just to try?"

I put two leaves and a good amount of dressing on her plate for dipping."

"Hey, that's pretty good."

Yeah it is!

Fourth of July Weekend

It always amazes me how a 4-day weekend always turns into a fun yet exhausting marathon of barbecues and fireworks. Thursday was spent on a quest to replace Alec's linen sports coat, which somehow ended up in the washing machine. Since all of the department stores have had their summer clothes on sale for a month now, it was a challenge. We found a suitable replacement at the 4th store, considered ourselves lucky, and headed to the pool.

Friday was an overcast day here. We made some salads to go along with dinner, and I made a fruit crisp (this one was peach and blueberry, and very good) but mostly Alec played X-Box and Lauren supervised. Since one of our dinner guests is 3, our party broke up before 9, and we decided since we were heading up to Dad's the next day where we'd probably see fireworks that we'd forgo the local ones and get the kids to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour.

Saturday, we had a great time at Dad's, although I expected it would just be the four of us, Dad, Ben and Maria, my grandparents were both there along with Aunt Diane and her girlfriend Bevvy. Except for a minor poisoning incident, we all had a great time and even managed to see the fireworks in Hartford.

Yesterday, we visited some friends in Westport on our way home. The drive wasn't too terrible once we abandoned I-95 for the Merritt Parkway, except for the stretch of the Hutch in Harrison that's always bad.

I have quite a lot of laundry to do, though our house isn't too bad since we mostly were just home on Friday. Lauren has declared it a "jammies all day day", so it would seem I'm not the only one feeling a bit tired after the weekend.

All you thirty-something blonde mommies are interchangable

Scene: Church hallway after children's choir practice. JANE finishes getting a drink at the water fountain and is startled to see EPIPHANY standing with her two daughters.

JANE: Oh, hi!

EPIPHANY: Hi, Jane. How are you?

JANE: I'm fine. It's Shannon, right?

EPIPHANY: No, it's Epiphany. I can see why you thought that, though. We're about the same height, with short blonde hair and glasses and have little kids. Shannon has three children.

JANE: Oh, right, she has two boys and the baby?

EPIPHANY: Yes, Charlie and...I don't remember the middle one's name.

JANE: I think the baby's name is Brianna.

EPIPHANY: That's nice.

JANE: What are your daughter's names again?

EPIPHANY: Lauren and Lindsay. Lauren is 5 1/2 and Lindsay is 2.

JANE: Nice. Do you go by Jessie or Jessica?

EPIPHANY: Neither. My name is Epiphany.

JANE: Oh...I'm so sorry.

EPIPHANY: Jessie is also blonde, sometimes wears glasses, and has a 3-year-old son.

JANE: Um, I have to go now.

Snippets from my life

Lindsay peed on the bathroom floor upon exiting the bathtub. She stopped, midstream, and looked surprised at herself.

"Lindsay, do you want to make a pee pee in the potty?" I asked, hopefully.

"No," she replied tersely, squatting on the towel wrapped around her. "I'm finished now."

***

"I saw a diary today that had princesses on it. They even had princess pencils. We could get that for you and you could practice writing write down your thoughts."

"I don't have any thoughts. When I close my eyes all I see are blue squares mostly. Occasionally rectangles. They are blue also."

Having her cake (and eating it too)

Happy birthday, Lindsay

Lindsay Alexandra Stoll, 5/21/2006

This is Lindsay's birth story, which you may opt not to read. I wrote it in an email to a friend a few days after Lindsay was born.

At 8 PM Saturday evening, I went into the hospital having contractions every 2-5 minutes, but since there was not an unbearable amount of pain, I fully expected to be evaluated and sent home. Since I was 36 weeks, 6 days, I was sent to the Preterm Evaluation Treatment Unit where they monitored my contractions and blood pressure for 3 hours. At 11 PM, the resident OB said I had progressed from 60 to 90% effacement and 3 to 4 cm, and was waiting for instruction from my doctor. He arrived a few minutes later, and said that my blood pressure had climbed to 150 over 85, and my platelet count was low (edited to add: I had preeclampsia with my pregnancy with Lauren and was put on magnesium sulfate because my OB was concerned my blood pressure had climbed so high I would have a seizure.) He said "I think you're ready to be done with this, and really, I'd rather move things along too". I nodded emphatically.

We were then moved to an L&D room. Doc came in around 12:30 AM and said that he was going to break my bag of waters to move things along, and if that didn't help, we'd start pitocen. I let my nurse know I was DEFINITELY going to want an epidural, and if we started the pitocen, I wanted the epi first. About an hour later, between various animal noises (mostly mooing) of pain, I asked for the epidural, was found to be at 5 cm, and pit was started a few minutes after the anesthesiologist administered the epi. I instantly felt better.

Around 5:45, Doc checked me and said I was 9 1/2 cm dialated and I should let him know when I was ready to push. I don't know if this was because I knew I was still at station -1 when last checked, but I really felt the baby dropping rapidly at this point. When I called everyone back in at 6:50, my doc said I was fully dialated, at +3, and that this was going to go really fast once I started pushing. Lindsay was born at 7:11, kicking and screaming, was weighed in at 6 lbs 9 oz and measured 19 inches.

My note continues about my struggles with breastfeeding, and how awed I was that Lindsay would sleep 4 hours at a stretch at only a few days old. When people with toddlers talk about sleep, I am always apologetic because for the most part, Lindsay goes to bed at 8 PM and we don't hear from her until 6:30 or 7 AM. She still takes almost a 3 hour nap every afternoon. I explain that there's nothing I've done special to foster this, she sleeps because she likes to sleep.

A little tear

"Your Birthday Girl pin that Auntie Jules gave you is out on your bureau."

"Yeah. I thought my sister might want to wear it on Wednesday, and I didn't want to forget so I put it out early."

Ohhh. "That was good thinking."

"I figured since she was going to be 2, she could probably take care of it for me."

You saw it here first

Yippee ki yay

Both girls wore pink cowboy boots today, so the title seems apt.

I went shopping for Lauren yesterday since she suddenly outgrew all her size 4 shirts last week. Have I mentioned lately how I heart The Children's Place Outlet? I spent $118 and bought 6 t-shirts, 2 tank tops, 2 pairs of shorts, 2 skirts, a bucket hat, 6 pairs of socks and 2 jammies for Lindsay. I wouldn't have done that well at Target and the clothes wouldn't have held up for hand-me-downs. And everything is mix-and-match in bright orange, pink, and deep purple.

I am trying to get motivated to go to yoga this morning, after not having been to the gym since before we went on vacation. I am really suffering with allergies today, and I can't take anything for them because the side effects are worse than the untreated symptoms for me. Yoga after a few weeks' break is always difficult, but I really need to get gym time back into my routine and find a balance with that and outdoor exercise because on days like today I think, "Oh, I just want to walk outside". I'm also anticipating a huge Lindsay fit at the sitter because she's no longer accustomed to it. Fun stuff.

With no end in sight

"Come on. Wan cracker peas."

"Oh, you want a cracker? Let's go to the kitchen!"

"Yes! Come on, Mama!" She stops in front of the microwave. "Wan banana peas."

"You want a banana? Oh ok." I hand her the peeled banana.

"San queue. An cracker too."

"Bananas and crackers?" I remove a whole graham cracker and break it into two bits. "Here you go, monkey."

"Yes, yes, yes." She sings, bending her knees and bouncing.

While I was excited to see that the district is planning paid whole day Pre-K next year, Alec let me know this morning that it says, "This may be the last year we offer free half-day pre-K." I started grumbling because I'd have to work in order to afford that, and the program is 2 1/2 hours a day, making it impossible to work. Somehow knowing there was available albeit for pay full day Pre-K and then all day kindergarten after that put the end in sight for me 2 1/2 years from now.

I love being home with the kids, and I find it hard and tedious. There are plenty of days I wish I could escape to a desk and grown-up conversation that doesn't involve milestones and sleep methods. I am trying to be enthusiastic about the upcoming summer, but really I don't know how I will cope without my 2-hour breaks in the afternoon where I can actually get laundry done uninterrupted.

Maybe my attitude is just about its Monday and my house, as it is on Mondays, is completely trashed and there are 4 loads of laundry and unmade beds, and all I want to do is go back to sleep.

Some photos

Today as the not-so-little girl walked in front of me with her long legs in pink cowboy boots (props to Karen) I realized with a twinge of sadness that our days of holding hands walking on the sidewalk were over, as her cool palm and long slender fingers slid out of my own. There are still things that remind me of that adorable 3-year-old obsessed with all things pink: the coat, the princess backpack, and the aforementioned boots, but at 5 1/2, her vernacular is rid of toddler words and mixed tenses. In a few short weeks, she will be done with Kindergarten and off to the wilds of numbered grades.
Lindsay sports her new backpack and sun hat. It occurred to me that if I bought her a yellow hat, she might actually wear it unlike her sister's handed down pink hat which periodically gets thrown out of the stroller. Her monkey backpack is a restraint system. Yes, a toddler leash. Lindsay is far more interested in walking at nearly 2 than Lauren, and too young to understand that running at the street is unsafe. I didn't think I'd leash my kid, but then, by the time Lauren walked she was old enough to reason. She was super cooperative today at Target and sat still while I checked out with the promise of a shortbread cookie from Starbucks. She even walked up the stairs nicely to have a story before nap time. "You can choose the story." "Okay, Mommy."

My best early Mother's Day present from Lauren's All About Me workbook:

When I grow up...

I am going to be a mom.

A sentence about my family...

I love my mom!

All things yellow

Alec: I think Lindsay has a favorite color.

Heather: She is a little obsessed with all things yellow.

Alec: I noticed. I think we know what we have to get for her birthday.

Heather: [...]

Alec: Something yellow?

Ridiculous conversations

"What if Mother's Day were like Christmas and if you were bad you got a bag of coal?"

"It would be like, score - heating for a month! - and damn, better luck next year."

"Dear son, Thank you for your Mother's Day present, and sorry I suck. Love, your mom."

"I wonder if Hallmark makes that card."

Learning new things every day

Lindsay recently learned her colors. She is about 80% naming what you indicate, sometimes I think she tells you what color she would like it to be. She also has learned to ask for 2 of something. "Do you want a cracker?" "No. I want 2 crackers."

Because 2 crackers is better. Or we need one for each hand. I don't know. It seems her answer to everything is "No" even when it's yes because of some other attached instruction.

"Pick fower."

"The pink one?"

"No, lellow fower."

"This yellow one?"

"No. Two lellow fower. Lion an that one."

It took a while to determine "That one" was a buttercup. Not 2 dandelions. At playgroup, we had about a half dozen tantrums and exercised the word "Mine" a lot. "My fiiiitruck. Mine!" It had been a while since I'd been - and I was sort of pleased to hear they are planning to change the day of the week for fall, so that Lindsay and I won't have to skip yoga to go like we did this morning.

Oh my word

"Chickens are oviparous," Lauren explained to her sister.

"They are what?" I asked.

"Oviparous."

"What does that mean?"

"It means hatched from an egg."

My mouth forms a round "Oh" rather like an egg. I Google to confirm. Yep. My daughter is officially smarter than me. Or is that I?

I have baked more these past few days than I can remember. Pizza? Oh my word so good with some olive oil, fresh garlic, and minced clams. Brownies? Why did we get convinced that it was hard to make them? It took 2 minutes to throw together a perfect medium between fudgy and cake-like. Our freezer holds 2 loaves of frozen bread, a gallon ziplock full of french toast for quick breakfast, and tonight's addition - curried lentils with cauliflower and sweet potato. I made another double batch of gelato. The only failed experiment was the oatmeal bars stuck to the Pyrex. Tonight I made fruit and nut bars with strawberry jam and almonds. I have three dinners in my fridge, so I will actually have a night off from cooking tomorrow.

If Lindsay uses the word oviparous even in her typical three-word sentences, I probably will run screaming into the night.

Leapin Lauren

Balancing things out today.

Lauren's casual reading has improved a lot in the past few weeks. She reads practically everything these days. When we were leaving the shore, an old lady in the neighborhood gave both girls prayer cards. Lauren has been reading hers every time she gets into the car and brought it to children's choir to show the pastors. She loves choir, and is easily the loudest singer even though she's one of the youngest there. She remembers the lyrics quickly, and spends time during the week singing her favorite songs. She particularly likes singing about Jesus.

Lauren is completely rigid about certain things. She had wanted to buy lunch this week because they were having hot dogs. At the last moment, she changed her mind and got a deli sandwich instead because she realized the aid was going to put ketchup on top of her hot dog, and she prefers it on the roll.

Big little girl

Upon returning from vacation, I had to put away all of Lindsay's 18 months clothes because her t-shirts were too tight and her leggings were becoming capri pants. I bought a few things at one of the children's clothing outlets nearby the shore, alarmed that we were going into a new season with a mere half dozen items of clothing. I moved the 24 months/2 toddler clothes from the basement, and was delighted to see that Lauren's hand-me-downs were more than adequate for two or three kids. Lindsay is enjoying her "new" clothes.

Two weeks ago we began teaching Lindsay her colors. Before we left for vacation, the only color she consistently named was pink. It sort of figures, since most of her clothes are pink. Today, she was sorting Lauren's color-coded word building blocks by color. She named all the colors when asked. At the library, we played with a wooden Noah's arc toy, and she named and made sounds for all the animals. She was also pretending to pour the contents of a cup into a pan when playing with the library's play kitchen. She stirred the imaginary contents in the pan with a spatula.

We've regressed a bit in terms of meals, and she's back to grazing and then refusing to sit for and eat a formal meal. Lindsay threw a tantrum today that lasted 20 minutes over not getting to sit in my lap to eat lunch.

She refused to wear shoes today, and since we were just running errands around town while she sat in the stroller this morning, and at church for children's choir, she went without. She complained that she wanted to play with the kids on our pastors' daughters' swing set, and I told her she could, but she needed to let me put on her sneakers.

"No wan seekers."

"Ok. Then you can't play on the swing."

"Wan swing."

She didn't have a tantrum, but she argued with me the entire fifteen minutes that we were there.

Monday after vacation

We got home yesterday from down the shore. What a beautiful week! We had a great time staying with our friends. We rode bikes on the boardwalk, flew kites and made sandcastles on the beach. We enjoyed some great barbecue, a couple really nice restaurants, and even made lobster and steamers one night. It was exactly the sort of beach holiday that would be framed warmly in my mind as a kid, and Lauren had an absolute ball. Well, Lindsay did also, but she won't remember.

Mondays are always tough. But today with a touch of a cold I brought back from the beach, rainy weather, and way too much to do around the house I am feeling less-than-motivated. I keep jotting tasks down on a post-it. It seems I will have to tear myself away from the computer to get them done...

Lauren's eye view

These were taken with Lauren's camera. Incidentally, if you take out a camera and point it at Lindsay, she now says cheese.



No one likes to be woken up to someone taking their picture...

Sometimes

Lindsay has been running a fever since last night's bedtime, so I missed Lauren's spring concert today, and had to cancel her planned play date - and refuse her friends who invited her over. I made a hot dog with rice and beans, hoping this might begin the distraction from all the fun things she wasn't able to do today because sister was sick.

We kicked off Lauren's early dismissal before spring break with a little home mani-pedi. I went upstairs and brought down the shades of pink, some of the top-shelf hotel cream, and a towel.

"Can I pick a different pink for my toes and fingers?"

"Sure. I like them to match, but you can have yours however you like."

She selected petal pink for her toes and fuschia for her fingers.

She waited as patiently as she could manage for the ten minutes or so it takes the "sets in 60 seconds" colors to dry, and wound up with very tidy-looking nails, sans the little flower designs they do in the salon, but pretty none the less.

We spent the rest of the afternoon painting, coloring, cutting, and pasting. We made a morning routine reminder list with pictures. We painted a little wooden birdhouse wind chime purple and pink.

"The assembly was boring, Mom," she said softly, "it was OK that you missed that one."

"I'm sorry I missed you singing." I replied. "We'll go next time."

"Ok," she replied, busily drawing a castle for her princess.

Baptism

I'm getting baptized tomorrow. Here's the play-by-play:

For Heather, who was not baptized as a child, today is a day for you to receive the sign of God’s unconditional “yes, I love you,” and to celebrate that while the sign is coming at this moment of your life, God really baptized you with God’s loving Spirit long ago. God has been with you since the beginning.

Heather, I ask you to please come to the font.

Heather, it was for you that Jesus Christ came into the world. For you he died and for you he conquered death; yes for you, Heather. We love because God first loved us.

Heather, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

This is my testimony:

I don’t know how long I had said, “I need to get closer to God but I don’t know how.” I worried that when my daughters were old enough to ask questions about faith, I wouldn’t how to answer them.

The day Lauren came home from school and said, “I want to go to church.” I said, “Sure, we’ll go on Sunday.”

I thought I was bringing her here. I see now that Lauren brought me here because I needed to be here. God is great!

At 22 months

Lauren, June 2004

Lindsay, March 2008

Answers to your most pressing questions

The salad that went along with Easter dinner was leafy organic hydroponic greens with shaved parmiggiano, red bell pepper, pine nuts, and vinaigrette.

The frog rain boots actually belong to Lauren. Lindsay wore them for the Official Easter Photo. The Easter dresses were purchased and worn for Tim's wedding, which was June 2. As you might surmise from the photographs, they were both a bit too large then. Lauren's sweater was purchased to wear over the dress for my step-brother-in-law's wedding (though it was late July, she did not wear it then) and Lindsay's is a hand-me-down.

They are particularly hard to balance in when on the wrong feet.

The "cigar" was a wooden screw from Lauren's toolbox.

Happy Easter

Too tired to caption this

I'll let you ponder the sunglasses on her head, shot glass, and "cigar". A round of Lindsay Lohan meets the paparazzi, anyone?

Reflecting at different places in my life

Toddler Lauren plays with a phone:

(shouts) What?! Oh, you've KILLING me! I can't BELIEVE it!

...she finishes the call by slamming the phone down hard.

Toddler Lindsay plays with a phone:

(sweetly) Hel-lo? Yes, ok! Buh-bye!

Messing with Mama

I've been trying to teach Lindsay the stuff that we teach the under 2 set: how to sing the alphabet, count to 10, and animal sounds. Her letter singing improves each week and comes closer to sounding like individual letters. She actually can count to 13 or 14, depending on her mood, if you disregard 4, because she always skips it. But whenever you ask her what sound a given animal makes, she will say "Moo".

Today in the car, I noticed that she was playing a game. It took me a couple of rounds to realize it was "What does ____ say?" She said: "What does bird say? Tweet tweet! What does monkey say? Hoo hoo hee hee! What does lion say? Rarrrgh!"

"Wow, Lindsay! That's great!" I exclaimed, genuinely surprised. "What does the kitty say?"

She caught my eye in the rear view mirror and replied flatly, "Moo."

This kid is messing with me.

Sadly, there are things even Sybil can't fix

Lauren fell on the playground yesterday. She had worn black tights to school under her skirt, and when she skinned her knee, she ripped a hole in the knee. The school nurse had bandaged her knee. Sticking through the rather large hole was her pale knee covered by an almost comically large institutional bandage.

At bath time, as she was getting undressed, I said, "You can go ahead and throw the ripped tights in the garbage."

She pulled a pouty face. "They can't be sewn?"

I replied, "No, it just won't work out. I'm sorry. We'll have to buy you a new pair of black tights."

"But Mama, maybe you can't sew them...but surely my auntie can. She can sew anything!"

"Your auntie?" I struggled with whether she was referring to my sister or my sister-in-law. They both have artistic flair, but sewing? Doubtful.

"My auntie who sewed* Lindsay's bear."

"Ohhh...Auntie Sybil."

"Yes! Sybil can fix anything! Can we save them until we see her again?"

"I think not, but it was a good idea, Lo."


*[SIC] Bear is knit.

My little yogurt-covered urchin

...decided to put her Kashi Heart 2 Heart (like Honey Nut Cheerios, but made with organic ingredients) in my steel water bottle, which was empty. I dumped it out before refilling it, but it must have had just enough water to have about a half dozen pieces stick. After gym time, I took a big gulp of my very cold water that had been sitting in the car as I pulled out of the parking lot to find the super hydrated gelatinous hunks in my mouth. With nothing to spit it into, I had no choice but to swallow the bloated cereal.

Eww.

As I put her down for her nap, I realized she was singing something. As with all of Lindsay's songs, only about a third of the words were actually words, but I kept hearing "amigos something something friends" and realized she was singing:

Amigos amigos we friends of a hole
Amigos amigos we friends of a hole
We been [unintelligible]
We been [unintelligible] (banging together her fists}
Amigos amigos we friends of a hole

This was the song that the children's choir sang in church last week - "Amigos de Christo". We are actually friends of the Lord. The gesture in the second to last line is to "we've been restored". Oh...my.

What's new chez nous

Alec took the picture of Lauren on their trip to visit Tutu in Hawaii. Isn't it gorgeous?

If you're at all curious where Lauren sees herself at age 100, go check out my last post on Worst Mama. I have to say, I remember discussing the possibility of living to age 100 when I was about 6 and I truly thought I would. Are our children more realistic than we were? More accepting of the idea that we all die? Considering Lauren has five living great-grandparents, it certainly is a possibility she could live to see the triple digits.

I retrieved Shannon the cat who had been missing just shy of 2 weeks. Alec saw her come out from under our next door neighbor's porch (which is incidentally where Seamus was when he went missing), and tried to lure her out with some kibble. She's not an affectionate pet, which is to say she won't come when we call her and doesn't allow us to pick her up. Alec eventually gave up, and we ran some errands. When we got back, I laid on my stomach in front of the porch calling her until she came out. She let me pet her, and then as quickly and smoothly as I could, I snatched her up and brought her inside. She's looking a little haggard and thin, but otherwise she's her normal whiny self. Seamus, on the other hand, was less than thrilled to see her back and spent most of the night growling and spitting. Charming little beasties.

Self portrait

Happy Friday

With Lauren away, things are quiet Chez Stoll. Lindsay asked this morning where Lauren is, and I told her "Lauren is visiting Tutu".

She asked, "She comin'?"

"She'll be back on Monday."

"Oh," she replied. "Ok."

At peace

Polly Williams
Photo credit: Lauren Greenfield

When someone you love is sick, it's as though there are mysterious air pockets of grief. You're walking down the street thinking about gloves (on or off) or shoelaces (untied?) and then you suddenly realize you're crying. You assure yourself that nothing has changed between this minute and the last and things are okay. And they are until you stumble.

I learned today that Polly Williams, one of the women featured in Lauren Greenfield's documentary Thin, died on Friday. She was 33 years old. My condolences go out to her family and friends.

One of the realities of this terrible disease is that young people die because of it. I have watched the documentary more times than I can count, trying so desperately to understand. As though understanding would somehow cushion the blow or make it better. I thought Polly was tremendously brave to have opened this window into what must have been some of the darker days of her life. I pray that there is peace for you in the next life that eluded you in this one, Polly.

A funny snippet from Lauren's report card

Does not consistently meet expectation in cutting accurately with scissors.

Strange little person

I had to show yesterday's morning outfit in more detail. Lindsay is wearing pink and white striped footie pajamas under her favorite knit hooded jumper, and the skirt belonging to Lauren's Snow White costume. Usually Dolly sits in the stroller, a cloth doll with very long yarn hair, but she was busy lying on the floor "eating" a wooden tomato.

More political processes

"Did you vote for the very best person?"

"Yes. That's my job as a citizen to vote for who I think is the very best person. Every votes for whomever they think is the very best person. Then the person with the most votes wins the primary. See, right now they are trying to narrow the voting to one candidate per party."

"And does the best person win?"

"Hopefully."

"Sometimes not?"

"Well see, everyone probably has a different idea about who the best person might be."

"Oh. I see."

"Daddy and I, for instance, didn't vote for the same person."

"Really?"

"Nope."

"Huh. How interesting."

Putting her vote in

No, not me. Not yet. I received strict instructions from Lauren, "Don't vote without me today!"

Lindsay slept in this morning, which was nice. I brought her downstairs still in her pajamas - a rare treat - to enjoy her breakfast of cereal, waffles, and graham crackers.

She's asked a few times, "Where's Daddy?"

I replied each time, "Daddy's at work."

About the fifth or so time after this exchange, she repeated. "Don't want Daddy work. Want Daddy huggle peace."

"Me too, Lindsay. Can Mommy give you a huggle?"

"Yes. Mommy huggles OK, san queue."

Lindsay at 20 months, February 2008

Bet you didn't know that came after K

A couple weeks ago, Lindsay started singing the alphabet. This is to say she started singing random letters, never in the same order. She always ends with "P". I have no insight as to why.

I noticed this morning that she's singing entire strings of letters in the correct order now. You undoubtedly have heard little kids slur together the string elemeno, as though it is its own letter. Lindsay sings that as "Elmo pee". She concludes the alphabet song "dubba ax why pee."

Big holes, revisited

Those of you who follow me over at Worst. Mama. Ever. will remember back in September there was a local construction site with a very large hole that Lauren thought would be a good place to bury people. Partly this is Lauren's belief that Alec and I made up that we bury dead people - she truly thinks that is absurd (though not as laugh out loud ridiculous as she thinks taking your shoes off at the airport is). Often she will ask if we can visit someone's grave and dig them up. She says it with such earnest, and almost looks hurt when I say it's not considered acceptable to disturb the grave of a dead person.

Today we passed the construction site where now the structure of a house stands. I pointed it out and said, "Hey, look - a house! Do you remember when it was just a hole back in the fall?"

"Yes." She looked thoughtful. "I was hoping they might put Shamu there."

Nice revisionist history, I thought. I replied, "Well, it was a big hole, but not big enough for a killer whale."

"Having Shamu here would be a whole lot cooler than just another house."

"I can't argue with that." I said.

Imperfection

This video is probably so funny because my kids are both misbehaving.




Here's the transcript:

Lindsay: Lauren! Quiet down.

Lauren (whispers): Be quiet.

Lindsay: Lauren!

Lauren (shouting): What?!

Lindsay: Here. Lauren!!!

Lauren: What?!

Lindsay: Here.

Lauren: Lindsay, you're hurting my ears. And it's not very nice.

Lindsay: Lauren!! Quiet!! Quiet!!

Lauren: Shh! You want me to be quiet?! You be quiet!!

Lindsay: Quiet!!

Lauren: Lindsay, you're just telling me to be quiet so you can be noisy. It's not very nice!! It's not even fair!!

At this point I lose it, not because of the argument, but because there is an infestation of cats.

Early morning conversation

I don't really talk to the girls until after I'm showered, dressed, and on the way to retrieve my coffee. I say the rote instructions, "It's time to brush teeth, get dressed, turn off the lights..." but no real conversation until there's at least the promise of caffeine.

As I reach the bottom step, I say, "Good morning, my girly girls!"

Together they respond, "Good morning, Mommy!"

Today, Lauren adds, "I hope you are in a better mood than you were last night."

"Me too," I say, "Last night was very trying."

She smiles. "We'll work on it."

"Yep."

Songwriting

One of the things I was most entertained by about Alec when we met was his ability to make songs up about practically anything. I realized today that our daughter Lindsay has inherited that trait:

Skin-a-mar-rinky dinky dink
Skin-a-mar-rinky doop
I made poop!

"You made a poop?"

"Yeah! I made a poop in the diaper! Yay, Lindsay!"

Well, oookay then.

A little white lie

Lauren and Lindsay are in Lauren's room, jammied up, and ready for storytime. I'm lying on my bed with my eyes closed, a container of baby lotion rests on my forehead.

Lauren says, "Mommy said she is upset because she feels like no one is listening to her today." Her voice becomes higher, "But I am listening. And I need her."

Lindsay grunts in agreement.

"I'm going to go talk to her. You pick out a book or two for storytime, OK?"

"Ok, Lar-ren."

"Lindsay, you select two books and wait here with them and I will go talk to Mom."

"Ok, Lar-ren."

Lauren runs in, and flops on the bed next to me. I open my eyes slowly. "Hi."

She smirks. "You have a bottle on your head."

"Yes. Yes I do."

"It's a little bit funny."

"Oh?" I ask. "Just a little bit."

"No, actually it's pretty hilarious but I didn't want to hurt your feelings." she says, chuckling softly.

"Oh."

"So I told you a little white lie and said it was only a little bit funny..."

Do Nice

The line between hitting and petting continues to elude Lindsay. She will excitedly smack her sister on the head, grinning broadly, only to hear Lauren howl in pain and a parent or both scolding, "No, no. No hitting."

It is to the point now where Lindsay will excitedly raise her hand to "pet" and then say, "No hitting!"

This morning, Lindsay is running back and forth around the living room while I am working at my laptop. As she walks past, I stroke the top of her head.

"No, no, Mommy. No hitting," she says, wagging a finger at me.

Back into it

If you read Worst. Mama. Ever., you already know I posted this morning that I'm committing to posting 5 days a week here. This week I am refocusing on life balance, because, as it has been pointed out to me recently I tend toward extreme commitment or rejection and moderation would be very good practice. I was reading my archives yesterday and I thought, wow, my writing used to be tighter and freer when I did less navel-gazing. So, in that spirit, I will try to give you some more of my life vignettes.

At the moment, both Lauren and Lindsay are sitting on the stairs. Lauren is in time out for having held Lindsay's naked doll (I have no idea why the plastic dolls can't wear clothes, but there you go) above her head, and then when asked to give it back to her sister, dashed it at the floor.

Lindsay snuggled her doll and glared at Lauren as she sat down. Only about a minute later, she was sitting next to her sister on the bottom step, legs dangling, her blonde head resting on her sister's shoulder whispering about...I don't know...they are always whispering and plotting these days.

"Ah wuv you, Lar-ren." She put her snot-sticky face near Lauren's, humming at her until she got kissed.

Fleeting Moments

Because some day she's not going to be content to sit in my lap eating graham crackers.

A late night self portrait

Where do they learn this stuff?

Lindsay at 20 months, January 2008

"Mom? Need ice." Lindsay points to her ear.

"Does your ear hurt?"

"Yep," she replies. "Need ice."

"Did you bump it?"

"Yep."

"Does it need a kiss?"

She pulls a face. "No, Mama. Need ice."

Living the dream

James Austin of So Long, Davey

You're way too cool to be my little brother, y'know. You totally rock.

Letting go

Some say love is holding on
and some say letting go
Some say love is everything
and some say they don't know

lyrics by John Denver

I lost my job yesterday. I'd felt for a while it was coming. The company has grown, departments formed, and they don't want independent contractors anymore. I guess the combination of this and a phone call from my sister's frazzled case manager left me feeling really unbloggable. I'm struggling a bit today, knowing that another day just makes it easier to avoid.

No, I don't know where she is. I'm not her keeper. I am barely managing to keep myself these days.

Sit in a comfortable cross-legged position, open palms rest on your knees.

I don't even know how you struggle against that. That's just yoga. I was late today after I realized my car was nearly out of gas, and a mile from the gym the alarm went off that I had 10 miles until empty. I stopped at the gas station at the corner. I had exactly 7 minutes to get filled up (in Jersey, we can't pump our own gas), park, get Lindsay signed into babysitting, and unfurl my cold yoga mat. I made it breathless to the third floor, kicked off my Converse All Stars, peeled off my coat, and sat down still wearing my socks.

So many things I need to think about...

To rethink.

Doors have to close for other ones to open. I know this.

My new bike

I totally heart my new bike - a Trek Navigator with a matching helmet. We went riding today in the park, and I didn't even fall off! Would you believe it? I got on, and it was just like riding...well, you know.

Self portrait

Guidance

Once a week, Lauren's class has a guidance period, where they meet as a group with their guidance counselor and discuss some subject. This week, they made collages and talked about people in the hospital.

"Mrs M said that people in the hospital probably feel a little bit sad and lonely," she said. She took out her collage, a sun peeking out over the horizon colored bright yellow. "So I made this for Juliana."

"That was very thoughtful."

"Can we mail it to her?"

"Sure." I said. "Did you talk with Mrs M about Juliana being in the hospital?"

"No."

"You can if you want to..."

"I can talk to anyone about anything I want to," she replied.

"Yep. I was just wondering if you told Mrs M you were making that for..."

"I said it was for my Auntie and that she's in the hospital."

"Ok."

Later at bedtime, we talked about her trip this weekend to my in-laws to spend an overnight with her sister. She's not thrilled about it because, as she says, "I don't get to do everything I want to do when my sister is there" which we talked about a bit, but also, "The stairs are very slippery there and I worry my sis might fall down them. I fell down them when I was littler and it hurt."

While it's sweet she thinks it's her job to look out for and protect her sister, I saw too much of my own situation reflected in this - it's a big scary world she's too little to actually save her sister from, so she's powerless to do anything but worry that the people in power will do their jobs, and she doesn't have a lot of confidence in them.

Epiphany on The Epiphany

Those magic men the Magi
Some people call them wise
Were Oriental, even kings
Well, anyway, those guys
They visited with Jesus
They sure enjoyed their stay
Then warned in a dream of King Herod's scheme
They went home by another way

Yes, they went home by another way
Home by another way
Maybe me and you can be wise guys too
And go home by another way
We can make it another way
Safe home as they used to say
Keep a weather eye to the chart on high
And go home another way

lyrics by James Taylor

You want to ask me how I know it's the Epiphany? I went to church today. Seriously. I didn't even catch on fire.

Why did I go to church? Well, Lauren asked, "Can we go to church?" She wanted to go because all the kids in her class are always talking about church.

My friends attend the local Reformed Church. I don't know anything about the Reformed Church, other than I'd met the pastors at the pool and they seemed nice enough. Because we chose The Epiphany, which marks the day that the Magi visited Jesus, the service was a bit longer than usual. It was also the first Sunday of the month when they receive Communion, and the day they were indoctrinating their new elders and deacons. About an hour into the service, Lauren beamed and said, "Can we come back next Sunday?"

"Sure." I replied.

I'd love to say that there was something about the experience for me that changed the way I feel about being at church, but as all the other services I've attended (maybe about a dozen), I felt like I was the only one in the dark about what happened next despite having the program, Bible, and hymnal. I also felt like people were trying very hard to be inclusive and yet that only made me feel more awkward and anxious.

Your fake dad doesn't buy you cigarettes

One of the most popular New Years' resolutions is quitting smoking. I personally am on my sixth quit. I could probably tell you within reasonable certainty about four of them because they corresponded with positive pregnancy tests, but this time I really have no idea. After I had Lindsay, I had the occasional cigarette - one every two to three weeks. I'd have weeks where I'd have one every night. Suddenly when the opportunity was there, I just didn't feel like it. A couple months passed and I realized I wasn't thinking Oh I can't wait until a week from Thursday when I can smoke a cigarette! it just was no longer part of me. It felt weird because smoking consumes a lot of your thinking when you do it. How many cigarettes do I have in my pack? Do I need to stop to get a pack? Do I have my lighter in this pocket? Do I have time to have a cigarette before I go to work? It was constant planning from the moment I extinguished one until I lit the next one up.

I have 3 siblings and each of us at one time smoked or still smoke. We all smoke(d) the same brand of cigarettes. I think that's an odd fact since we didn't do it together as teenagers. I had long since left when Ben started, and Ben lived with my dad and his second wife as a teenager while James lived with my mom and her husband. My dad also smoked them, though he's been quit at least a couple years now.

It helps I have very little exposure now to smokers. It was pretty hard the first time I quit when I was working in the restaurant and the entire staff would light up on break. When I went back to work after having Lauren, it wasn't that I worked with a lot of other smokers, but it was just part of my work routine. But no one lights up here waiting at the bus stop. The smoking moms I've met have been few and far between.

I should probably just pick a date. I know I quit before the spring because the last time I smoked it was cold. March 10th? It just seems sort of arbitrary.

Auld Lang Syne

Since 2001, New Years Eve has been hard. I wonder each year if it wouldn't be better to embrace the sadness of this day rather than spend it struggling to not be sad. As in past years, I'll undoubtedly eat and drink too much and then resolve not to drink until next New Years, which usually makes it until the next dinner party.

Dad wrote that the lyrics that summed up this year were:

A long December
and there’s reason to believe
maybe this year
will be better than last.

lyrics by Adam Duritz

I'll add these:

The water is wide, I cannot cross over
And neither have I wings to fly.
Build me a boat that can carry two,
And both shall row, my love and I.