We went to the memorial service of my friends' mom
today. Steve was trying to prepare Ben, so that he didn't act
like a jerk. "Listen pal. This is a memorial service for
Bubbe. People are going to be very sad b/c they loved her very
much. There will be a lot of crying. I need you to make me
proud. I need you to stay quiet and ask for help when you need
it." Ben said, "Okay, I'll be annoying in the car on the way
there. Once I'm there, I'll be really quiet. But in my
head, I'll be dancing to the crying." Please tell me I'll get to look back on this and laugh instead of saying, "Yeah, we should have known."
Friday, February 11, 2005
Tuesday, February 8, 2005
lots of stuff
I've been away from a computer since Saturday morning. I was beginning to experience pain. Is that a bad sign?
Today I went up to help my best friend, whose mom died of liver cancer this morning. Diagnosis to death was about a month. Scary shit, that. My friend, Stacey, just had a baby 11 days ago (that "penis" section of the last post is his). She's had a hell of a month. Of course, I had to coach Ben all the way up--"Aunt Stacey is very sad. Her MOM died. Do not ask questions about the body or the cremation. Do not ask if we can have the parrot now." I promised Marlene that we would take on of her 6 parrots when she took ill. My kids have been a bit TOO excited at the prospect.
Yesterday, Steve worked from home because I had a dentist's appt in the morning (two fillings, but at least no root canal, yay! And I again mangaged to resist the urge to stare into the dentist's eyes, yay!) and a school governing council meeting in the evening. Nice to have him home, but it meant I couldn't get near the computer. What kind of cave family are we that we have only one computer anyway? I mean, he works for AOL, fergawdsakes, it's not like he's a cabinet maker or potter or something.
The weekend was spent at my folks' house. Dad's in Florida, obeying that weird southern-migratory urge that seems to strike the post-60 set. I mean, Florida of all places. There are other warm spots that aren't nearly as crazy. I should probably offer a "sorry" to my beloved Floridian readers. But really folks, it's nuts down there.
Saturday night I went to a meeting to discuss organizing my 20th High School reunion. I'd gotten an email through classmates.com from a girl I was friendly with in school. Thought it'd be nice to see Barbara again, so I planned to go to the meeting. Turns out that showing up meant I was going to be on the reunion committee. Crap. I'm so not a committee gal. Barbara asked someone to be treasurer and I said, "ohhh, not me," prompting her to say, "Oh, Deana protested the most, it ought to be her." I just said, "That would be a VERY big mistake. Trust me." I think she knew I was serious. Thank goodness. It was a fun night, for the most part. One chick I could have lived without. "Oh, my daughter is anall-star cheerleader...When I made the programs for all-star cheerleading...Oh our weekends are so busy with the all-star cheerleading..." I wanted to say, 'Hello. Look around you. Three drama geeks, two of whom were also band geeks, another band geek, and a Latin club geek. Do you think for a MOMENT we want to hear about all-star frickin' cheerleading? And you're wearing too much make-up. And what is up with your hair? I mean really."
I'd prepared for the night by digging old yearbooks out of mom's attic. I found the one from my Junior year and was reading through it. On the page with the boys' soccer there was a little scrawl to the effect of "I really liked eating lunch with you every day. You're really funny and nice and I'm glad we're getting along better than we did in chemistry. Love, Al" He's signed "Al" on all the pics of him on the soccer page, of which there were many b/c he was a captain. And he was HOT. He was a senior that year, so I looked for his portrait. HOT. And I had no memory of him at all. I'd been dating an assortment of amiable dorks and this total jock hottie was writing nice things about me and eating lunch with me? Probably gay. When I first got to the reunion meeting there were only 4 of us and we had quite a laugh about our realization that the popular, "cute" kids weren't all that damn cute and that we were ALL better looking than they were and why weren't WE getting the cute dates, huh?
I also found my 7th and 8th grade yearbooks. In the 7th grade one, I'd made notations next to the names--fully circled meant "a good friend," a half circle meant "nice," and an arc with two dots under it was a turned-up nose and meant "snob." Cute boys got their whole photo outlined. Of course, I had to share that at the meeting too. We all got to swoon at Billy Ferguson again. He really did look like Scott Baio. Why do spouses go to class reunions? It must be such a drag. I think I'll absolve Steve. I want to gossip, not introduce him a dozen times. And he'd rather eat his liver than go.
Oh, AND we continued the Festival of Ben. He got yet another birthday party. And then bitched about me not buying him anything at Target today.
Today I went up to help my best friend, whose mom died of liver cancer this morning. Diagnosis to death was about a month. Scary shit, that. My friend, Stacey, just had a baby 11 days ago (that "penis" section of the last post is his). She's had a hell of a month. Of course, I had to coach Ben all the way up--"Aunt Stacey is very sad. Her MOM died. Do not ask questions about the body or the cremation. Do not ask if we can have the parrot now." I promised Marlene that we would take on of her 6 parrots when she took ill. My kids have been a bit TOO excited at the prospect.
Yesterday, Steve worked from home because I had a dentist's appt in the morning (two fillings, but at least no root canal, yay! And I again mangaged to resist the urge to stare into the dentist's eyes, yay!) and a school governing council meeting in the evening. Nice to have him home, but it meant I couldn't get near the computer. What kind of cave family are we that we have only one computer anyway? I mean, he works for AOL, fergawdsakes, it's not like he's a cabinet maker or potter or something.
The weekend was spent at my folks' house. Dad's in Florida, obeying that weird southern-migratory urge that seems to strike the post-60 set. I mean, Florida of all places. There are other warm spots that aren't nearly as crazy. I should probably offer a "sorry" to my beloved Floridian readers. But really folks, it's nuts down there.
Saturday night I went to a meeting to discuss organizing my 20th High School reunion. I'd gotten an email through classmates.com from a girl I was friendly with in school. Thought it'd be nice to see Barbara again, so I planned to go to the meeting. Turns out that showing up meant I was going to be on the reunion committee. Crap. I'm so not a committee gal. Barbara asked someone to be treasurer and I said, "ohhh, not me," prompting her to say, "Oh, Deana protested the most, it ought to be her." I just said, "That would be a VERY big mistake. Trust me." I think she knew I was serious. Thank goodness. It was a fun night, for the most part. One chick I could have lived without. "Oh, my daughter is anall-star cheerleader...When I made the programs for all-star cheerleading...Oh our weekends are so busy with the all-star cheerleading..." I wanted to say, 'Hello. Look around you. Three drama geeks, two of whom were also band geeks, another band geek, and a Latin club geek. Do you think for a MOMENT we want to hear about all-star frickin' cheerleading? And you're wearing too much make-up. And what is up with your hair? I mean really."
I'd prepared for the night by digging old yearbooks out of mom's attic. I found the one from my Junior year and was reading through it. On the page with the boys' soccer there was a little scrawl to the effect of "I really liked eating lunch with you every day. You're really funny and nice and I'm glad we're getting along better than we did in chemistry. Love, Al" He's signed "Al" on all the pics of him on the soccer page, of which there were many b/c he was a captain. And he was HOT. He was a senior that year, so I looked for his portrait. HOT. And I had no memory of him at all. I'd been dating an assortment of amiable dorks and this total jock hottie was writing nice things about me and eating lunch with me? Probably gay. When I first got to the reunion meeting there were only 4 of us and we had quite a laugh about our realization that the popular, "cute" kids weren't all that damn cute and that we were ALL better looking than they were and why weren't WE getting the cute dates, huh?
I also found my 7th and 8th grade yearbooks. In the 7th grade one, I'd made notations next to the names--fully circled meant "a good friend," a half circle meant "nice," and an arc with two dots under it was a turned-up nose and meant "snob." Cute boys got their whole photo outlined. Of course, I had to share that at the meeting too. We all got to swoon at Billy Ferguson again. He really did look like Scott Baio. Why do spouses go to class reunions? It must be such a drag. I think I'll absolve Steve. I want to gossip, not introduce him a dozen times. And he'd rather eat his liver than go.
Oh, AND we continued the Festival of Ben. He got yet another birthday party. And then bitched about me not buying him anything at Target today.
Friday, February 4, 2005
teeth, penis, hair
Busy day. I had a 9:00 am dentist appt. Lily was weeping
because she couldn't go to the dentist. Her appointments are more
fun. No one scolds her for not flossing or announces upcoming
root canals. AND she gets vampire teeth and a new toothbrush when
it's over. I just get guilt and bloody gums. At
every dental appointment, I wonder what it would be like to stare into
the eyes of the person rummaging around in my mouth...does anyone ever
do that? How unsettling it would be. I wish I had the guts
to do it.
Then I had to zoom up to Hanover, PA to the bris of my best friend's son, Charlie. For the non-Jew-literate among us, a bris is a ritual circumcision. Genital mutilation with a schmear. I hid in the kitchen for the snipping, but I got to hold a newborn, so it was worth it to me, if not to Charlie. Lily spied me sniffing that yummy baby head and ran over saying, "Hey! I you baby! You hold me now!" The trip is about an hour, on a two lane road. Each time we passed a cemetary, either Lily or Ben would call out "Graveyard!" with excitement. Ben would then ask if we could visit it. Now I do enjoy looking at the old stones, but I swear I don' t need to see every single one up close. And of course car trip means more of hearing Ben's thoughts (in between snorks. He has the most irritating post-nasal drip, it's like torture). "Why does the Headless Horseman carry a sword?" "Can we go inside a mausoleum?" "Are dead people wearing clothes?" What 5 year old doesn't want the DVD series of "Six Feet Under?"
Then I had to zoom back for a cut and color appointment. Going to a planning meeting for my 20th high school reunion tomorrow. I'm totally not the reunion-planning type, but the woman heading it up was a friend and I want a sneak peak to see who got fat and old. Not me, of course. And I'm certainly still a natural blonde. With perky bosoms. I swear I nearly nodded off during the hair cut. I sit still for that long and my body thinks it must be bed time. But no rest for the weary--had to dash off and get Julianna from school. Then home. Make dinner. Call mom and tell her we won't be coming until tomorrow. You people are lucky I make time for you at all.
Then I had to zoom up to Hanover, PA to the bris of my best friend's son, Charlie. For the non-Jew-literate among us, a bris is a ritual circumcision. Genital mutilation with a schmear. I hid in the kitchen for the snipping, but I got to hold a newborn, so it was worth it to me, if not to Charlie. Lily spied me sniffing that yummy baby head and ran over saying, "Hey! I you baby! You hold me now!" The trip is about an hour, on a two lane road. Each time we passed a cemetary, either Lily or Ben would call out "Graveyard!" with excitement. Ben would then ask if we could visit it. Now I do enjoy looking at the old stones, but I swear I don' t need to see every single one up close. And of course car trip means more of hearing Ben's thoughts (in between snorks. He has the most irritating post-nasal drip, it's like torture). "Why does the Headless Horseman carry a sword?" "Can we go inside a mausoleum?" "Are dead people wearing clothes?" What 5 year old doesn't want the DVD series of "Six Feet Under?"
Then I had to zoom back for a cut and color appointment. Going to a planning meeting for my 20th high school reunion tomorrow. I'm totally not the reunion-planning type, but the woman heading it up was a friend and I want a sneak peak to see who got fat and old. Not me, of course. And I'm certainly still a natural blonde. With perky bosoms. I swear I nearly nodded off during the hair cut. I sit still for that long and my body thinks it must be bed time. But no rest for the weary--had to dash off and get Julianna from school. Then home. Make dinner. Call mom and tell her we won't be coming until tomorrow. You people are lucky I make time for you at all.
Thursday, February 3, 2005
He's a quiet loner, he likes guns
We went to the library today. Happy happy farm animal books for
Lily. Little House books, Amber Brown, Junie B. Jones for
Julianna. Ben's selections: 3 books on mummies, 2 books on the
Titanic, a pirate book, and a book (in Spanish) about The Day of
the Dead. If he discovers that there are books about weapons, I'm
toast. He happily leafs through the mummy books in his car seat
as we drive around on our errands..."Hey mom! Looks like a lot of
this guy's flesh came off. Do you think it is lying beside him in
the coffin? Hey! Here's a mummy's hand that came off!
Coooool! How do you think it came off?" We go to pick up
Julianna. It's a violin lesson day, so all the violin cases are
lined up on a shelf by the front door. "Hey Mom! Don't
those look like little coffins? One little coffin, two little
coffins, three..." Lily pipes up "COFFINS! YAY!" Come
along Wednesday, Pugsley.
In the library, Lily was trailing me and said, "I don't want you anymore" after saying "I waaant yooouuuu" constantly for the past week (do anyone elses's kids go through this weird "I want my mommy" phase? All three of mine--(s)he'd be sitting ON my lap--hell, w/a nipple in the mouth--and cry,"I want my mommy!" Honey, I've been wondering where she is too. If you spot her, let me know b/c I have a few things to say to her about her child-rearing skills.). I made kind of a frowny face and said, "You don't WANT me?" And she said, "Oh, I want you mommy. I just making a joke. You were crying and I was crying and I said I want you again." And then she gave me a hug and a kiss. That's why we don't kill them.
Great massive clumps of snow falling from the sky. Like the snow-effects guy couldn't be bothered to send it down in your standard floaty-flakes way. Brownies was cancelled, postponing my poor cookie-sales shaming for another two weeks. And no swim lesson, meaning no hot tub soak for me tonight. But I did get to put on my jammies early (and that's JAM-mies. not JAH-mies.).
In the library, Lily was trailing me and said, "I don't want you anymore" after saying "I waaant yooouuuu" constantly for the past week (do anyone elses's kids go through this weird "I want my mommy" phase? All three of mine--(s)he'd be sitting ON my lap--hell, w/a nipple in the mouth--and cry,"I want my mommy!" Honey, I've been wondering where she is too. If you spot her, let me know b/c I have a few things to say to her about her child-rearing skills.). I made kind of a frowny face and said, "You don't WANT me?" And she said, "Oh, I want you mommy. I just making a joke. You were crying and I was crying and I said I want you again." And then she gave me a hug and a kiss. That's why we don't kill them.
Great massive clumps of snow falling from the sky. Like the snow-effects guy couldn't be bothered to send it down in your standard floaty-flakes way. Brownies was cancelled, postponing my poor cookie-sales shaming for another two weeks. And no swim lesson, meaning no hot tub soak for me tonight. But I did get to put on my jammies early (and that's JAM-mies. not JAH-mies.).
Wednesday, February 2, 2005
Mom of the dead
So. freakin. tired. I was talking to my friend
Stacey, who has a 5 day old baby, and I think she's getting better
sleep than me. How is that fair? Okay, granted, the fact
that I'm still nursing a 2 year old at night IS my fault. But why
can't she just nurse and crash like a good little girl? Why the
"Uhhh! Mommy!" several times a night? Why the talon-like
toe nails digging into my flesh? I am too ooooold to be awakened
several times a night. Forget beauty sleep, I could just use my
"not a haggard crone" sleep. I keep saying "Not Sleep Mommy
is not very patient and kind," but they don't care.
Wednesday is Cold Stone day! Every Wed. after getting Julianna from school, we scoot across the highway to Cold Stone Creamery. Dude. So good. I'm working my way through the flavors. Sure, I could try the samples and find out that way, but where's the challenge in that? Today I had coffee with toasted almonds. Damn fine. The big winner is still mint with Oreos. I daren't try any of the 3 mix-in concoctions they have listed on the board. Julianna got cheesecake and I tried it, it was a bit much, like the cake batter. Lily gets strawberry with gummi bears and then picks out the gummis with her fingers. They need to install a shower outside the door, as if we were leaving a nuclear reactor. Ben gets sweet cream with marshmallows. The strict adherence to a favorite baffles me. Today we went swimming before going to Cold Stone, so we were eating ice cream at 4:30...Dinner will be meager. Steve won't be home so it's a mac-n-cheese night anyway.
Lily is back to stripping again. Not for money, of course, though the extra income would be nice. But she doesn't take off her shoes first, so she winds up waddling around w/her feet bound together by a turtleneck, screaming for help. All of her clothes, puddled at her ankles. "Sweety, if you're going to be nekky, you need to take off the shoes first." "NO! I not do that fuhst! EEEEEEEEE!" How I loathe the ear-piercing shriek.. And Not Sleep Mommy likes it even less. Please go to sleep early tonight, children. And please, stupid brain, let ME go to sleep early instead of suddenly pepping up with that "Wheeee! Everyone's in bed!" burst of energy that keeps me up until midnight. Please.
Wednesday is Cold Stone day! Every Wed. after getting Julianna from school, we scoot across the highway to Cold Stone Creamery. Dude. So good. I'm working my way through the flavors. Sure, I could try the samples and find out that way, but where's the challenge in that? Today I had coffee with toasted almonds. Damn fine. The big winner is still mint with Oreos. I daren't try any of the 3 mix-in concoctions they have listed on the board. Julianna got cheesecake and I tried it, it was a bit much, like the cake batter. Lily gets strawberry with gummi bears and then picks out the gummis with her fingers. They need to install a shower outside the door, as if we were leaving a nuclear reactor. Ben gets sweet cream with marshmallows. The strict adherence to a favorite baffles me. Today we went swimming before going to Cold Stone, so we were eating ice cream at 4:30...Dinner will be meager. Steve won't be home so it's a mac-n-cheese night anyway.
Lily is back to stripping again. Not for money, of course, though the extra income would be nice. But she doesn't take off her shoes first, so she winds up waddling around w/her feet bound together by a turtleneck, screaming for help. All of her clothes, puddled at her ankles. "Sweety, if you're going to be nekky, you need to take off the shoes first." "NO! I not do that fuhst! EEEEEEEEE!" How I loathe the ear-piercing shriek.. And Not Sleep Mommy likes it even less. Please go to sleep early tonight, children. And please, stupid brain, let ME go to sleep early instead of suddenly pepping up with that "Wheeee! Everyone's in bed!" burst of energy that keeps me up until midnight. Please.
Tuesday, February 1, 2005
The Festival of Ben
Looky
at the li'l baby. The pediatrician on call said, "So, who's got
the ears?" Huh? Wah? Lady, I just shot a baby out of my
nether regions, I'm in no mood for deciphering cryptic questions.
We ALL have ears, what on EARTH are you talking about? Once the
fog cleared, I realized she was maligning my beautiful infant son by
suggesting he had larger than perfect ears. hmpf. So the week long Festival of Ben continues. He had a party at Grandma and Grandpa's last weekend. Today he basically gets what he wants--chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast, pizza and cupcakes for dinner. This weekend, we'll go to my folks' house where he'll get more cake and presents. It's good to be the king. We have a lot of pirate crap now. Breaking my devotion to Playmobil, I got him some Imaginext pirate things. He got new pirate bedding...I mean, pirates are bad, right? We've made them into these kind of rakish rogues, but really they were all about the raping and plundering. I have a vague unease about this sometimes, but then I remember how cute Johnny Depp looked in that pirate get up...
Happy Birthday Ben!
Ben turns 5 today. This time 5 years ago, I was on my hands and
knees in the kids' section of Borders, wagging my "tail" to get through
a contraction while almost-3 year old Julianna looked at Spot books
nearby. We walked over to Sports Authority so that I could buy a
stopwatch to time the contractions and know when to call my
doula, Melissa. They were pretty far apart, but strong enough
that I was stopping to grip countertops until they passed. What a
sight I must have been...As it turned out, those contractions STAYED pretty far apart, but long. In retrospect, I was probably having one and then another, and then a break. Whatever it was, I never got near that birthing center in Hagerstown. Ben was born about 10 minutes after I staggered into the ER, naked from the waist down and wearing an open bath robe. Now THAT was a sight to take your mind off the long wait to see an ER doc about a sprained finger.
Ben has continued through life much the way he came into it--he waits until he's absolutely sure it's time and then BAM. Didn't fully potty train until 4 and a half. But when he did, he was done. No bed wetting, no accidents, just done. Didn't walk until 17 and a half months. But then he got up and took off. Went from "buh" and "da" at nearly 2 years old, to "Pardon me, do you have any grey poupon" in about a week. Maddening at the time, but amazing with hindsight. And still maddening.
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