"ignore the story. see the soul. remember to love. you will never regret it" --- Seane Corn

"ignore the story. see the soul. remember to love. you will never regret it" --- Seane Corn
it's a jungle out there

Friday, July 31, 2009

Fragments & Freewrites

***OK. So today we had our first swim day. Astounding, inasmuch as it's the end of July. But between Maine, work, and the horrendous weather, well...
We had a great time. Lots of sun, water, and sand.
In fact, Mia had a whole mess 'o fun creating a Mia sand creation.
I looked...
what the???...
Mia, honey, what is that?
Sand castles... and a pool. like, it's so obvious mommy
Right. How could I see anything other than sand castles and a pool??

is it me, or do you see big nippled boobies too?
or, I dunno, maybe an obscene representation of male genitalia?
and that hole at the bottom?
what is that?
my mind is in the gutter

***So, as we're getting into the car to catch a movie, I notice that Mia's hands are covered in mud. Up to her elbows. I also notice that Ty's entire back and butt are wet and muddy.
Ty, you're covered in mud... where were you playing?
In the mud good answer
After the movie, they keep asking me to come see their sculpture. I so don't put 2 and 2 together. I notice Mia's tossing a ball of mud back and forth in her hands.
mommy, come... it's outside, mommy.
Mia walks me down the block. I figure we'll be rounding the corner, and their sculpture is in the park. She stops in front of the sewer. I see little piles of mud edging the sewer grate. Are you kidding me? I can just imagine the two of them squatting in the street playing in sewer mud, for all the neighbors to see. Yuck

***So all evening Mia has been complaining that her butt itches. She eats like 3 lbs of fruit a day and poops like a man. I keep going back into the bathroom to wipe her itchy butt and she keeps complaining that it still itches. Finally, she's in tears. So I take a REALLY good look. Pinworms. Before I can check myself, the word POPS out of my mouth. Poor Mia gets a horrified look on her face and bursts into tears. I remove the offending worm and she immediately feels better. If you've never had the pleasure of viewing pinworms in your kid's butt, they're tiny white threadlike wormy things that itch like crazy. Yuck.
Lucky for me us, Ty had pinworms 3 years ago. also in 1st grade... hmmm... I sure did stock up on those anti-pinworm chewables. Back then, I made everyone in the family chew away just in case. Well, no way was I gonna get caught with my pants down again so to speak. She's all better now.

***So Jack comes home from Tae Kwon Do, and plops down on the couch with Ty & Mia who are watching PBS Kids. Jack says I miss being 4. Just hanging out and chillin with Clifford.
A nostalgic moment for my almost 12 year old.

***If it sounds like my kids are a bunch of dirty fingernailed, dirty minded, unsanitary, unchaperoned, dirt, dirty, dirty kids... well... they are.

Friday Fragments courtesy of
Friday Freewrites courtesy of
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Thursday, July 30, 2009

Good morning

On Monday, Ty auditioned for a very special orchestra. The folks who ran cello camp also have orchestras during the school year. They're no joke. Serious business for serious kid string musicians. These teachers are super nice, super talented, and do an amazing job with the kids. The kind of job that makes you want to stand up and cheer with tears squirting out of you eyes well, that's what I did because when those kids play, they are just so fucking amazing.  

Anyway, so Ty auditioned. B took him. They were both super excited to have some Daddy & Ty time, especially for something as important as THE CELLO. Well let me tell you, Ty kicked butt, and was offered a seat for the fall. 

They had a great time together. 

Thanks for coming with me, Daddy
As B said, these words are not at all Ty-like.

Ty is a boy of few words. He's also extraordinarily stubborn and unforgiving. You can cross him once. That's it. You don't get another chance with him. And he's unable to admit he's wrong. Or even mistaken. So for Ty to let down his brick wall, let his dad back in, and express gratitude, well, that's quite a feat. As far as I'm concerned, it's much more of an accomplishment than being accepted into that orchestra. 
although this new cello gig is pretty sweet too

So, the night after the audition, Ty couldn't sleep. 
He finally came into my room and burst into tears...
I miss Daddy. 
he's only said those words two other times in the past 6 months, both when crazy mommy psycho bitch was rearing her ugly head

I think it was really hard for him to switch emotional gears and sit with the feeling of loving and wanting and appreciating his daddy. I think maybe it was exhausting to let go of his anger. And I bet it took alot of energy for that little 8 year old body to hold up the brick wall all these months. 

Tuesday morning, Ty woke up pretty subdued. My guess is that he felt kind of drained and beat up. 

Well, you know what I do when things aren't sitting quite right. 

Ty made breakfast. 
Pancakes. Scrambled eggs.
No traces of Patsy, but he was humming Bach's Minuet #1
He did a great job.
And he seemed to feel better afterwards.

How sweet is that.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

in our own backyard

So this is where we spent our morning

nice, huh?

What? you say...
didn't they just get back from vacation?

Where are they??


Lake Malawi?

Jurassic Park?


this amazing beautiful deserted place
this lush and tropical paradise
this take me and the kids away spot is

10 minutes from home
1 hour north of Manhattan


Saturday, July 25, 2009

Home alone

I'm home alone
listening to the sound... of silence

What?? What you say?? 
Where are the kids??
Kids?? They're sleeping at J's house tonight.
Got home from work, and I find out they've planned a sleepover. At her house. 
My three & her one. She's so brave
Are you sure, J?? Are you sure you're sure?? 
all righty then...

I can't remember the last time I was by myself anywhere for 12 hours. Totally alone. I wasn't even alone nights in the hospital after giving birth. I had just given birth. I had a newborn. I was breast feeding. I never let that breast feeding newborn out of my sight. So not alone.

I think the last time I was alone was April of 1993. I was living by myself in the 'burbs and B was living in Brooklyn. In May we moved in together. 16 months later we were married. We may have spent a handful of nights apart, but they were few and far between. 3 years later the babies started to come. And the rest, as they say, is history.

So, what to do with an entire Saturday night to myself? This rare opportunity is not to be squandered. Who knows when it may arise again.

Go out with friends? See a movie? 
Find some romance?

Oh yes!!!
Yes Yes Yes!!!
Oh baby...
It's been soooo long
I can't remember the last time...
mmm... sooo good
the lemony smell
wiping away the stickiness
oooh... the gleam

Whew... now I'm all spent and sweaty
hair curly and damp and falling in my face

after, in bed with Lost reruns and Weaver hot wings 
such a release
such satisfaction
mmmm.... gonna hafta do that more often

Friday, July 24, 2009

friday fragments

Friday Fragments. Evidence of Mrs. 4444's brilliance. Also, Friday's Freewrite, created by Sara at Ordinary and Awesome. Come freely frag with us. And leave some love while you're at it. Everyone needs a little bloggy love at the end of a long week. Right?

Mia and I went arts and crafts shopping the other day. An entire store of crafty stuff for her to choose from. We were there for hours. She decided on sparkly metallic pom poms, pipe cleaners, glitter, and 3 pieces of fuzzy flocked patterned paper. Zebra print, leopard print, and purple & pink tye dye.
She carefully drew out a flowy blouse shape with a plunging v neckline on the zebra print, a flowy ruffled skirt shape on the leopard print, and a big bow belt out of the tie dye. So exciting... paper dolls! She wanted it to be just right. I could see she had a vision. Beautiful, exotic, sexy clothes taking shape in her mind's eye. She cut them out... put them together... 
I wait for the triumphant smile, the excitement of her artistic vision brought forth...
instead, she looks uncertain ... umm... mommy... if a lady was walking down the street in this outfit, would people look at her funny? Guess it depends on the street

I like to be productive. Not amazingly or neurotically productive, I just don't like wasting time. Any activity that is repetitive or doesn't show some kind of progressive just aggravates the shit out of me.  oh, right that would constitute almost all of everything I do at home. Grocery shopping uggh buy it torture eat it hopefully poop it out inevitably. Laundry recurrent never ending no one really cares about clean clothes but me. House cleaning ditto. There's momentary pleasure in planning and starting my garden every spring. But by this time of year everything's so out of control be it heat or weeds or rodents that I'm just done. 
Maybe I'll take up cross stitching

Every morning I listen to Democracy Now while driving Ty to cello camp. This week, Amy Goodman is all over health care reform. She's interviewed Howard Dean, Wendell Potter formerly chief spokesperson for Cigna, now whistle-blower, and Stan Brock founder of RAM, a group of volunteers who bring free health care to under served populations right here at home. This topic gets me going. I rant at the car radio. Every morning. Ty and Mia just look at me, and then each other. Finally Mia says mommy, they can't hear you. Harumph

My teeth hurt. They've been hurting ever since the dentist filled my long in the tooth gaps a few months ago.  I'd had an appointment to get a cavity filled.  A snowstorm hit that morning, but the dentist is just around the corner, so no need for me to cancel. You know, once I cancel an appointment like that, it's really hard to get around to rescheduling. So she filled the cavity then offered to fill in my old age gaps. Said I was already numb, and insurance would pay and there were a lot of cancellations due to the storm.  As far as I'm concerned, it was totally cosmetic. I guess they look better. If you're right up in my mouth examining my gumline. I didn't particularly think it looked bad before. Now they just hurt all the time. WTF 

I'm a little crabby this morning. I was fully prepared and oh so stoked for a really good night's sleep. Lights off at 10:30 really early for me. 12:09 ghetto neighbor's friend pulls up next door with ghetto car stereo pounding my bedroom windows with an entirely too heavy base line. 2:30 60 lb Dusty Dog sounds like he's running through the house jumping on furniture. When I go downstairs to investigate, he and the Fat Cat are having a face off. dumb pets 6:09 otherwise very cute and sweet 2 yr old across the street has his a.m. fit  aargh
Guess I should close my windows or move my bedroom to the back of the house or something.
What makes you loose sleep?

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Thousand Words Thursday

                                                           Cheaper Than Therapy

Mommy... it just fell out of the sky... really
Mia the Bee Charmer
yup that's a real bee

Thousand Words Thursday
it sure is
go visit and leave some love

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Every breath I take

So, I've been having a little anxiety lately.  

This is not anxiety due to imagined catastrophe, or unrealistic fear. It's the after-effect of some real crazy shit that went down a few months ago that required unimaginable i can't believe this is happening this is NOT my life steps to protect myself and my family. Leaving me with just a touch of PTSD. Seemed completely reasonable at the time, all things considered. This anxiety is nothing debilitating it never was, but it is enough to make it feel like my stomach is doing backflips and my heart is skipping beats. As uncomfortable as it is, and as often as I consider briefly popping half a xanax, I choose to sit with the feeling. Well, I don't really sit. Usually I keep moving get out of bed, sweep the floor, move the laundry along, think about dinner. I'm spared of this feeling at work thank god for small favors big ones. Being at home is the trigger. Personal life. Family. Memories... That's where things are still not quite right. But it's getting better. I've learned to view this feeling as a head's up. It tells me there's something that needs to be attended to. Something that's causing a feeling of instability. 

Sometimes it's hard to tell if the instability is external or internal. Is it just fear, or is there something I can do? I'm not a control freak. I'm easy. I'm well aware the only thing in my control is me. The thoughts in my head, the way I react, the decisions I make. But what if I make the wrong choice, the wrong decision? I'm making decisions that affect 4 other people. My children. Even though I like things predictable, I roll with the punches better than most. But, when on the spectrum of my life, it's Earthquakes, Pestilence, Droughts and Floods? That's when I get the eensy-ist bit panicky. When my world starts falling down blowing up and I'm dodging bullets... that's when it starts.

So, right, I breathe. Sounds silly, but it really does help. Breath by breath. It's better than cramming food down my gullet though that's never been my thing. It's better than drinking. And early on, that xanax was really good at alleviating the anxiety so I could get a decent night's sleep. But... daytime... it would just knock me on my ass. And I like to be productive during the day. Or at least have the choice to be productive. Deep breaths keep that panicky feeling at bay. In each breath, things are OK. With each breath, the discomfort is squelched, and I can think clearly about what's causing it. I can break it down, and formulate a plan of attack. Plan of attack. Not panic attack.

Yes, it's getting better. Things, I think, are moving in the direction of good. Back to the way it was a long time ago when it was really good. Because it was, years ago, really good. It was the best

Maybe the anxiety is like a blinking yellow light approach with caution. Maybe it's just residual fear, and as things continue to improve, the anxiety will continue to decrease. Either way, as uncomfortable as it is, I won't ignore it or erase it. I'll sit with it or fold with it, clean with it, cook with it and make it work for me.  

Saturday, July 18, 2009

A good day

Spent the morning crying. Sobbing. Tears squirting out of my eyeballs like a cartoon character. just because. Because it was one of those days. One of those days when I loose my wear-with-all my shit. I just felt too tired to stay strong. Too tired of trying not to feel sad. So I just... cried. A lot. Let it all out. Like draining an abscess of pus so the body heart can heal itself. A relief. But left me feeling pretty. wiped. out.

Today was not an OK day to feel wiped out. Not a day to indulge myself. it never is. My brother in law and nephew are coming for their annual summer visit. Two really nice people. A good man, and his good man-child. Easy. Low maintenance. But still...

Guests are a good excuse to clean the bathrooms.  
And weed the patio so we're not barbecuing burgers tomorrow in knee deep grass. How can a beauty queen have a backyard barbecue in knee deep grass? 
I wouldn't know

Where's Patsy? Alas, Patsy is unavailable today. 
I stumbled on a new local station. 
"Radio Woodstock" celebrating the 40th anniversary of Woodstock. 
that alone is enough to make me smile

And you know what Patsy & I do when we keep company together...
we cook
we bake
we sing

Mexican chicken soup...
Hershey's cocoa "perfect chocolate cake"...
Clapton, Mitchell, Crosby Stills & Nash...

so easy, so delicious
thank-you, Anouk
onion, peppers usa
chicken local & organic, lime mexico
chili powder quien sabe
black beans can, corn frozen
chicken stock, rice

sugar, flour, cocoa, baking soda & powder
eggs from Anouk's chickens, milk from the Amish farmer
vanilla, water
also so easy
real whipped cream chocolate icing

a bunch of cilantro, a squirt of lime, 
jalapenos & avocado
my kids love this, even with visible veggies & beans

chocolate cake with fresh fruit on the side
I was mommy the hero tonight

It's amazing how a day can just turn around
maybe it's hormones
maybe I'm a lunatic

a little distraction
a little cake
some wooden ships on the water
a good cry
a good chat or two or three

and even though I spent the day with 
burning wrung-out eyes...
I'll climb into bed tonight and say
today was a GOOD day

Friday, July 17, 2009

Friday Fragments

It was our last day of vacation. We were walking through Booth Bay Harbor, and somehow Jack and I had straggled behind. We were ambling along a quiet, deserted street, chatting about the end of our trip, and he reached for my hand. My almost 12 year old was actually holding my hand in public. So sweet. You know, he's at that age... I can barely address him in public, and his little brother and sister are positively mortifying. He wants to hang with his friends, not us. Yet he still won't go to bed until I tuck him in and kiss his forehead. In the privacy of our home, he'll still come up to me and hug me and say I love you mommy. But this public acknowledgment of feeling the mommy luv was sure something. Then we rounded a corner and came upon shops and traffic and people. Dropped my hand like a hot potato. But somehow I was able to appreciate that gesture as much as I did the gesture of him tentatively taking my hand. My tween Jack.

What is it about summer that makes it even harder than usual for me to don a bra?? Sweat?? Heat?? This morning I went through 5 different tops, trying to find one that would be OK sans brassiere. No such luck. I just want to wear a tank top or a t-shirt to stay cool and comfy, but even the kids groan in mock disgust and cover their eyes mom put a bra on!! I spent something like 80 out of 86 months either pregnant or breast feeding. And the boobies are certainly the worse for wear. And I have NEVER found a comfortable bra. They do not exist. Panties can be comfy, shoes can be comfy, even pelvic exams can be just fine. But bras? Uggh. Hate em.

Jack's having a not so good summer. His best bud is off visiting his dad. His other best bud moved to Texas. He says he's more than depressed, but not yet suicidal. Morose is the word he used. It breaks my heart. Yesterday he said mom, our family is really screwed up. That breaks my heart even more. I happen to think we're all doing remarkably well, all things considered. But that's my grown-up perspective. Of course it seems screwed up to him. He remembers really good times. Intact times. Times that felt stable and safe. Never fear ladies, we ARE safe. But we haven't had that feeling of being part of an awesome family for quite a while now. And I guess none of us are really sure we're gonna get that feeling back.

I don't watch tv, except for Lost and Grey's Anatomy.  I have a secret desire to be a hot chick stranded on a beautiful tropical island with a bunch of hot guys and other hot chicks. I also love the idea of being a key player in a weird time warpy we're all connected and we have to save ourselves and the planet plot. yeah, i'll admit that i may have an overblown sense of worldly purpose and responsibility. Grey's Anatomy is on my short list only for the hot cast. Stories are relatively lame, but the acting's good. In a network tv prime time kinda way. Well, it's summer, and I can't even catch reruns. But there is Netflix. Got Season 4 of Weeds. Mary Louise Parker. Love her. Hot. Funny. Really funny. Still can't believe they can actually put that stuff on tv. Guess I'm glad they do.

Friday fragments courtesy of Mrs. 4444. Go check her out, she's awesome.
Have a great weekend!

Your fairy is called Columbine Icedancer
She is a bone chilling bringer of justice for the vulnerable.
She lives in mushroom fields and quiet meadows.
She is only seen when the bees swarm and the crickets chirrup.
She wears lilac and purple like columbine flowers. She has icy blue butterfly wings.