Mom to the Screaming Masses

A Year in Review

I do this every year, and it's my favorite thing about the year end. It's neat to see what I've done, the big and small, the things that I may have forgotten, and reminisce on the things that my kids have accomplished. I really did do a lot this year, so grab a cup of coffee and pee before you sit down. This could take a while.

Come on Over, Dinner's at 7

Many, many thanks for your exceedingly kind words on yesterday's post. I can't tell you how much they moved me. I have many emails to reply to, but it's going to take a few days to be able to do so. I am truly blessed to know all of you. Thank you from the bottom of my soggy heart.

Over the weekend, I watched Julie and Julia. I had read the book and liked it, excessive use of the f word (so says my mom) nonwithstanding. I don't know if I liked it because of the blogging thing, or because I just liked it. I have to admit, it was kind of fulfilling to see something that I love so much - blogging - that is so often disparaged, actually saluted. 

I Cried

I had a miscarriage in May. End of May. I wasn't very far along.

Shit. This is hard to write.

I never cried when I found out I was pregnant. I stared at the line up of 3 (mostly) inconclusive tests for a long, long time. Hid them in the laundry room, snuck in to check on them while fixing dinner or correcting homework, squinting to see if the palest of lines was darker than it had been the day before, the hour before, the minute before. I was in denial. Over the next week I bought a few more, just to see if any of them were any more clear, until finally I coughed up the money for the "fancy" test - the one that develops the word "pregnant" so that there can be no doubt, no uncertainty - you are going to have a baby. And that's what it said, in letters darker than anything I'd ever seen. Pregnant. And I was conflicted.

Merry Christmas to All

Scenes from the day - I only took a few pictures - I forgot I had a camera, apparently...

The Countdown is ON

Ok, so now I have about, hmm, 24 hours to get it all done. I have to make cookies, low fat chocolate cheesecake, mexican dip, a whole hot mess of side dishes for two separate meals. I have loads of folded laundry to put away, carpets to vacuum, and a teeny tiny little thing called -

I still need to buy TWO gifts and I have wrapped NOTHING.

Make me feel better. What do you still need to do?

(My apologies if you do not celebrate Christmas . I'll be back to normal insanity very soon, I pinky promise.)

Now We Are Six

A.A. Milne

When I was one
I had just begun
When I was two
I was nearly new
When I was three
I was hardly me
When I was four
I was not much more
When I was five
I was just alive
But now I am six,
I'm as clever as clever;
so I think I'll be six now
for ever and ever 

The weirdest thing that ever happened to me was giving birth on the same day nine years apart. The best thing that ever happened to me was giving birth on the same day nine years apart.

It's been a wild ride with Riley, the one who taught me the most about becoming an advocate for my child. I've learned, now more than ever, to ignore what others think is the "right way" to raise my child, the "right way" to handle her, and the "right way" to deal with a spectrum issue. I've learned that she is not her issues, but she is her own self, as complicated as a person can be and yet, as open and free as the wind.

She loves all things female and girly, dollies and pink, dress up and princesses, tea parties and coloring. She's learning to read, to follow the rules at school, and to play soccer.  She's Riley, and she's six, and she's wonderful.

Happy Birthday, sweetie. Mommy loves you.

And Now You Are Fifteen

You were born at a bit after 4 on a Thursday morning, December 22, 1994. Labor began at 2 p.m. on Tuesday, December 20. It was a very long and painful labor, but the struggles were yet to come.

You cried all the time. ALL the time. Hour after hour I walked the floor with you, carried you in a sling, patted you on the back. Your older brother learned to fall asleep to your shrieks, and I clearly remember dozing off as I sat on the sofa, while you screamed in my ear. I went through my first bout of PPD and the two of us struggled together. Spring arrived, medication helped both of us in the form of antidepressants (for me) and Zantac (for you), and we both together gave up milk products. And, suddenly, miraculously, you were content.

You were born with a growth on your head, and the long, long months it took until testing at the hospital - my first ever experience with sedating an infant - proved it to be benign, but in need of yearly follow up. Your middle name reflects the worry and struggle that I had during my pregnancy, when the obstetrician couldn't tell me much about you - was the skull open? Was the growth brain tissue? Was it spinal fluid? Truly, it made for a very stressful pregnancy. I often wonder if that internal turmoil I experienced had an affect on you.

Now, happiness is a sporadic thing. You are, by turns, spunky and sedate, chipper and sullen. You've shown amazing insight and expressed extreme empathy - and taken the door off the hinges with the screaming and the yelling and the teenage angst.

In short, you are 15.

You love soccer and Muay Thai, shopping and texting, Facebook and My Space. Mexican food and Panera, Starbucks and Taco Bell, skinny leg jeans and oversized hoop earrings. You can stay up later than any one else in the house and sleep more than anyone I've ever seen. Guess it makes up for the lack of sleep you did as an infant. You love public school not so much for the education, but for the opportunity to wear flip flops, make up and jeans.

Happy happy birthday, Allegra. Mommy loves you.

Inquisitive Minds Ask Tough Questions

One of my boys asks a lot of questions. A LOT of questions. Often he spread them out and asks them of other people - his siblings, his dad, his friends and teachers. I don't mind answering questions - truly, I don't, for how else will he learn? But, sometimes, my patience is shattered. Let's take a typical afternoon exchange, as I drive him to his Muay Thai class.

Catch Up

Time to answer a few questions!

---Thanks so much for the anniversary wishes. Truly,I really appreciate it.

--- Starbucks and why I no longer buy coffee there. I was, formerly, one of Starbucks biggest daily consumers, often stopping twice a day. I drove a couple of families in a carpool just to be able to support my java habit. When I started trying to lose weight, four years ago next month, the Starbucks Venti White Chocolate Mochas were the first thing that I had to go. I looked at the online menus, pulled a couple of drinks that were lower in calorie count, and moved to those, but they ended up being unsatisfying. Then I found a recipe for making my own iced coffee, and I never looked back. Now, IF I go to Starbucks, which is not all that often, I don't buy drinks. I buy gingerbread loaf (my very favorite winter time treat!), oatmeal with protein powder or the yummy yogurt and granola cups. It sounds funny to say, but the coffee smells burnt and tastes weird. I really just prefer my own stuff now.

--- It appears that I have a wart on the bottom of one of my toes. Eeeuuuwww gross. Anyone have a recommendation for how to get rid of it? I don't have an appt with the dermatologist for my melanoma check until Feb.

--- Waffle iron - I LOVE the waffle iron that I use. It's a Waring Pro and, although it doesn't have removable plates, I've never had one problem with getting it clean. I just use a wet cloth to wipe it after it cools. The key to it is using a spray of Pam before each new waffle. I love the fact that it has an adjustable dial and you can make the waffles as dark as you'd like. The drip pan underneath makes the clean up totally easy.

--- I would like to solicit two suggestions from my lovely and faithful readers. Amie asked: Do you have any gift ideas for inlaws, grandparents, other assorted adults who really need /want for nothing yet we r obligated to give them SOMETHING for Christmas. Also, let's list some great, inexpensive stocking stuffers for the teenage set - I've heard from a few readers who are struggling with this issue.

--- Tomorrow is the last day of school. Tomorrow is the LAST day of school for more than two weeks. Whee! Let the Wild Rumpus Begin!

It Was Twenty Years Ago Today

(Does anyone else hear the opening of Sgt. Peppers when they read that?)

I turned 20 on November 14, 1989. On November 18, I stood outside my church, shivering, as I attempted to persuade the lovely parishioners at my church that yes, indeed, they did want to purchase donuts to support the youth group. On the other end of the concrete slab that fronts the church stood the choir, who were selling raffle tickets to raise money for their trip to Italy. A man separated himself from the choir group and walked over to us.