mamas come back

when my oldest was a wee toddler with a little jew fro, her teacher used to sing a catchy little tune at drop-off -- something about mommies always come back. this has always bothered me because, as we all know, mommies don't always come back. illness, circumstance, etc. -- thankfully, that reality isn't mine, but to promise something that isn't true is just not right.

HOWEVER, i went away this weekend, and i came back, which was good good good. i went to new york city (NEW YORK CITY!!!) and i love it, as always. my beautiful, generous, adventurous, magnificently intelligent friend xandy opens her home to me a few times every year. she lives in Manhattan, fulfilling her dreams of very-high higher education. here's what happens when i come: we spend about 36 hours walking, talking, eating, walking, talking, eating, sleeping, and then some more walking, talking, eating. she always takes me somewhere awesome (highline park, all over central park, grant's tomb, chelsea market) and always listens to my craziness, and always makes me feel welcome, and always tells me it's ok that i talk about my kids so much. she's a good friend, that xandy.

so i went away, my gorgeous husband held down the fort for 2 days, and i returned. my big girl is a first grader tomorrow, the hurricane came and went, power restored and 11 loads of laundry done, and summer is unofficially over now that labor day has passed. bring it, fall.

beach returns

the months of anticipation, the weeks of preparation, the hours of travel (11.5 to be exact...that's to get there. 7 to get back. go figure.)...we've been and returned to the beach, AGAIN! every year we go with my family and my soulmate/bestfriend/sister (& her husband, when he can) to the outer banks of north carolina. where we do...nothing. and we do it well!

it is awesome to compare photos over the years. in an earlier post i put up most of the previous years group photos and we've grown, enlarged, matured, changed. so it goes.

my dear friend had a baby this week. her fourth. wow. i know that my three are overwhelming (in a good way, of course) but 4 seems like SO MAAAAAANY. i held that one day old and felt the twinges. so round and beautiful with his little old-man forehead and pursed lips. not to say i wasn't happy to return home and get a full nights sleep, but darn it if he didn't make me think.

brotherly love

case #1 for twins: the love, baby. pure love.

that's just not me

i'm not the fun one. i'm just not. i do not talk in accents just to make you laugh. i do not make animal crackers march into your mouth. i do not put on puppet shows or do magic tricks with matchbox cars. i do not pretend the food went into my nose and then i will not pretend to blow it out into my hand again. i do not think it's funny when you fart. or when i fart.

i feed you. well. i keep you clean. i keep your things clean. i teach you how to keep yourself and your things clean. i cut your grapes and pour your milk and let you go on the freezer and get your own ice cubes. i cut your nails and check your temp and read and read and read. i hug and kiss and bandage and snuggle.

i'm not the fun one, but i'm essential, so you're stuck with me.

i thought this was over

11pm, 1:30am, 3am, 4am, 4:30am, 6:30am. those pretty numbers are all of the times i got to see one - or more - of my children last night. my main culprit was jonah - that bear of a 2 year old got his nose in a twist about something, because that little guy was inconsolable. walking/swaying? nope. change diaper? nope. drink of water? nope. can i change your pj's? no way. monkey boy jumped on the bandwagon, was too cute to say no to, and got some water too.

then the anxiety hit my little lady and she came in to our room to worry about something happening today. not a big deal, but it's not the norm for her, so she worries. to the extreme.

i'm tired.

but i'm not super grumpy. i do tend towards the super grumpy, i have to say, but there's something about these problems that you just want to solve for your children that is just heartbreaking. my anger turns to sadness when i have a hot, wet, crying 2 year old in my arms who just really does want to sleep.

but i am tired. no joke.

a different kind of "graduation"

i graduated today! not from a school, or a program, or a series of lessons. i graduated from my oncologist today. when he told me that instead of seeing him every 6 months, which i had been doing for a few years, i needed to now come every year, i felt so mixed-up. coming every 6 months was reassuring. coming every 6 months was annoying! coming every 6 months was habit. but now i have a new habit -- less assuring but less annoying. here's to a different kind of graduation! thanks dr. cohen!

piles to pack

each summer we go with my family to the beach. we usually go in july and we always go to the outer banks of north carolina -- either duck or corolla. you know, the OBX. you've seen the bumper stickers. around february, my dad starts talking about the beach. "i'm so ready to get to the beach." "i'm counting the days until the beach." "do you know what you're making at the beach?" (we take turns cooking dinners and it turns into a mini-cooking competition).

it's peanut's turn. she has been asking for a few months now, "mommy, if we were at the beach right now, what would we be doing?" over and over. what's funny is that i never find the question annoying. hmm, what WOULD we be doing if we were at the beach? eating? going for a night crab walk? swimming? napping? walking at sunrise? and again and again?

something sappy for mothers day

my mom is better than your mom. my mom kicks ass. my mom kicks serious mom ass! wanna know why? huh? because she's MY mom, that's why. and because she's my brother's mom. and because she taught me to never go to bed angry, to wash my face & floss my teeth. because she chose her battles well, because she told me she loved me even when i told her i hated her, because she thinks i'm a good mom now. because she's taking care of her mom. because she rubbed my feet for hooouuurrrs when i was in labor with peanut, because she loves my husband just because i do, because she took care of me when i was sick as a child...and as an adult.

my mom kicks ass, and i love her!

the peanut is aging

she's six. SIX! SIX SIX SIX! i've been a mother for 6 years. she's been my daughter for 6 years. it's been awesome and awe some and challenging and funny and funnier and a journey i'm glad i've taken -- especially to have taken with her, and my man, and her brothers. i'll post photos of the chocolate frosting 'stache she sported for awhile in celebration.

i love tina fey

a mother's prayer (tina fey)
'nuff said.

mood music

i think everyone i know, at least everyone i've ever lived with, has happy music. this song is mine right now. i can't listen to it once...i think this is the 4th time i've listened to it just sitting at the computer right now. my happy music is seasonal and cyclical. sometimes the rent soundtrack, sometimes phish songs (circa 1992), sometimes fast drummy avett brothers songs, sometimes 90's hip hop. i have a very large soft spot for 90's hip hop. i get jiggy with it. i humpty dance. plus, thrown in some j.t. and i'm happy happy -- he did bring sexy back.

no touch

i read a lot of blogs (yes, i read a lot of blogs) that are very personal. i think that's pretty much the point -- the blogger is journaling and confessing and writing what's on her mind. that's pretty much the point here, too, except for one thing -- the magic man is uber-private. can't spill his beans. so i'll be vague. he got bad news (job-wise) and he's way down in the dumps. he can't lift his spirits. i can't lift his spirits. he didn't even want to be touched. then this afternoon he got more bad news. i try to cheerlead for everyone, including myself. i try to reassure and uplift and love. what else can i do?

the noses they do flow

spring has sprung. no wait, spring sprung, and then relented. winter won. no, spring. no, winter. now, frost and then snow, all over my tulips and strawberries. sad face. saddest face: bear. the nose runneth and the eyes glasseth over and he's just tired and cranky. his brother and sister stand in line behind him, also "not feelin' 100%" as my ma used to say. still says.

our weekend looked a lot like the paragraph above. kids didn't leave the house. parents begged to leave the house. noses ran. tempers ran. lots of snuggles and kisses were given. food wasn't eaten.

such is the change of seasons, i suppose. i've always said that i like all 4 seasons just the way they were intended. that's why i could never live in florida, for instance. but this? where they can't decide? give me san diego perfectness any day!

and we're all better

how do i know? the 30 minute tantrum thrown at 8am this morning by peanut when i informed her that before we went to our friends home for shabbat lunch, she had to shower. man, that gasket was blown sky high. it almost resulted in no breakfast for the girl. it did result in a mini-tantrum from the mm. intense. so, no more fever, antibiotics working their magic, linens cleansed, toothbrush changed.

we did a spring-clean this morning. yesterday it was almost 80 degrees out -- windows were open and i happened upon...the dirt. dust. piles. junk. so even though it's saturday, and even though it's 55 degrees instead of near 80, we opened the windows and got to work. even the little animals helped. washing and vacuuming and straightening aren't my strong suits, but mm's pretty good at them :-)

when do YOU spring clean?

peanut...butter!

you know that old cheesy joke about the papa tomato and the baby tomato, that ends in the papa tomato saying, "ketch up!" ?? well, that's being done in my house, except it's my peanut that's down and out, and she's all peanut butter. strep throat + random stuffed-nose virus + non-ending 100 degree temp = peanut butter, all smooshed-feeling and rotten. poor babe.

but, am i wrong to love me some sick kid? not that i enjoy her misery (and whining), but she's honestly too sick to really whine with oomph. she's just a pathetic little sweaty thing that needs holding and snuggles and kisses and sippy cups of water, even though she's almost 6. i desperately want her to feel better and i desperately don't want her brothers to get sick and i desperately want to find a magic cure.

and...i'm to blame! i have had strep twice in the past month, gave it to the magic man twice now (yeah, we like each other), and now the peanut. poor babe. at least she didn't smash a finger like margot (http://www.digthischickmt.com/2011/03/hump-day-nuggets-thumbs-up.html) but it's all relative. now, back to planning a sick-kid contingency plan.

a re-do questionairre

i believe in re-do's. also, i'm pretty different than i was in 2008 when i started this blog, abandoned it, and then rediscovered it. so i'll allow myself a re-do on my very first post....

what were you doing 10 years ago?

23 years old seems like a long time ago. in about a month i would meet my now-husband, my magic man. that rocked my world, for sure. surprise, not what you're looking for! i was in my 2nd semester of graduate school, living on my own for the first time, very independent and aware of that independence.

what are 5 things on your to-do list?

1. try to stay awake for a movie tonight...TRY being the optimal word there.
   
2. change the sheets
   
3. make something with the meyer lemons in the fridge
   
4. clean (some things just don't change)
   
5. moisturize
   

things i would do if i was a billionaire:

same answer, but i'd add "donate" to this list: pay off my debt. pay off my parents' debt. move my grandparents into snazzy assisted living. buy a house in the outer banks. hire a trainer. hire a housekeeper. travel a lot. hire a babysitter to take with us when we travel. sell my house. get weekly pedicures.

5 places i have lived:

ok, 5 more: baltimore, MD; cleveland, OH; fort wayne, IN; owings mills, MD; chicago area

only 5? sao paulo, brazil; virginia beach; bloomington, IN; farmington hills, MI; south bend, IN...and so on!

3 of my bad habits:

geesh, maybe i'm not so different! i also say "yeah" a lot.

biting my cuticles (so ugly), yelling, saying "cool" a lot -- i swear i am not 17.

5 jobs i've had:

(the more entertaining ones)

• cleaning lady at an auto-parts factory
• hostess at applebees
• fruit stand attendant
• assistant teacher for a kindergarten classroom
• librarian at a summer camp

how did you name your blog?

it is who i is. my husband calls me indiana when i get all midwest on him, and here i am in baltimore.

it's my party and i'll....

XX is an odd age -- not an age ending in zero, not one ending in a five. that's me -- my birthday was yesterday. my magic man did everything in his power to make it am amazing day and i did feel awesome...i still feel awesome. homemade truffles, sleeping in, breakfast in bed, an evening out w/out the animals, i mean, kids.

that said, i'm still XX years old and it's a nasty thing to face. my friends now talk about having to dye their hair b/c they see too much gray. my friends USED to talk about wanting to dye their hair with manic panic but their moms got mad about streaking the shower doors with the bold colors. it's crazy. one minute i feel so mature and got-it-together, the next i feel as out of control (good and bad) as i did when i was 22.

all in all, i'm glad i'm XX. there is always a chance the next birthday won't come, and god knows that i know that. i'm grateful for every one i have.

the animals are two

monkey & the bear are 2. many many presents entered our home in the last few weeks, many of which hadn't. case in point -- we are all on our computers. yes you read that right - isaac, jonah, and i are all on our laptops. they talk, they sing, they encourage 2 year olds to go online and personalize their email (seriously!). i'm sure they teach the ABC's and animal recognition, but they also create fights and are awesome weapons when monkey is looking for something to hit bear over the head with.

time flies when your babies are babies

my babies aren't babies. they were, and then poof! they're not. to be two years old is such a strange thing -- mine can walk, run, almost jump, push, eat, shout. they can't talk much but they can understand every little thing. they love and hug and kiss and smack. they high-five and fist-bump. they're not babies anymore, but they're my babies! happy birthday, monkey & bear!

the sad & the happy, all at once

17 year olds shouldn't die. not by accident, or illness, or their own hand, or in war zones. a former coworker/former friend's son died this week. it was sudden and in their home. unexpected. i didn't go to the funeral and didn't visit during shiva. i couldn't, and i can't even write a note. not yet -- i hope. i will be able to but i keep having this supremely mortal feeling when i think about. what if it was MY family? what if it was ME? what if i had been closer to them, or if it happened to some i was closer to? it doesn't really matter, though, b/c it didn't happen to anyone but them and their pain must be unbelievable, ripping, searing, awful.

both my husband and i have had some close brushes/conversations with Death, and have had people close to us die. we make light of death b/c we don't like it. we joke about THE BIG C because it's been here. death makes people uncomfortable. it should make people uncomfortable but it also makes me feel lucky. it wasn't us. my kids are here. i am here. he's here. we're all here and it wasn't us. i keep telling myself that. it just doesn't make me feel less sad.

my eyes are heavy, dry. my head aches. my shoulders ache even more. children should sleep at night.

winter bloooooooooooooz

i'm surviving winter in...dum da da dum...baltimore. where the thought of ice makes them cancel schools. where "milk eggs toilet paper milk eggs toilet paper" whips through the brains of every woman in the state when more than rain is predicted. weather is a hobby for many people. i laugh, i commiserate, i appease...what can i do?! here's my grandpa moment: i used to walk 20 minutes in cold snow alongside roads where any driver could whip freezing slush-water onto your pants multiple times just to get to an 8am class. then, i'd deal with my wet freezing pants and feet for the rest of the day. so there. don't cancel school, people!

really, just take my kindergartner for more than 2 days in a row. please. thanks.