short term

2010-03-09T14:17:00.002-05:00

I have to do my taxes. My mother is coming this weekend which means I need to scrub the entire house. My laundry is in competition with my dirty dishes to see who can accumulate faster. But after reading a friends blog and realizing that I couldn't even remember my password for this one I decided to shelf it all and write a post.

It will be a short one. Baby steps.

I have been helping Steven set up a blog with his artwork. Since moving to Brattleboro four years ago he has sporadically painted. This is frustrating to me because he used to paint all the time. I have many photos of Lydia wearing a paint covered garbage bag in her dad's studio. Steven was always the person who actually produced art, while I have been the super procrastinator of our duo. My taxes?

I like being around people that create. I like to say it inspires me. But it inspires me no more than reading Martha Stewart Living. "Oh.... your tinting your walls with homemade paint made with milk, tell me more" is interchangeable with "wow look at these Victorian sculptures made from real human hair that Martha collects". I genuinely love to see what others create, but with me it's all about the ideas.

RECENT IDEAS BY ME

1. block printing or silk screening on textiles then making curtains (I've thought about this a lot lately mostly because it involves a book I want that costs $50)

2. making some spring clothes for Lydia, I swear I've been designing clothes in my mind for her for 10 years (yes I know she is 7)

3. write a book about finding my dad, also not a new idea, yet seems to reemerge with change of seasons

4.make a quilt about the Owl and the Pussycat

I could go on and on.

Luckily I have friends who do amazing things. They do all sorts of great things. I have a friend that writes screenplays (even one titled after me). I have a dear friend that knits beautiful clothing and clever animals. Another good friend is rehabbing a Gothic style home. At Lydia's birthday party she got a homemade hula-hoop for the love of god.

How did I get here...

2009-04-13T10:42:00.007-04:00

"you may ask yourself- well how did I get here?" Talking Heads

I refer to this song, pretty much daily. It's not because I love David Byrne (I do), but it seems like I can never truly believe that this is my life. This introspection is not of the existential variety, it is more concrete.

How did I end up in small town Vermont?
At which crossroads did I do an about face and fall in love with a man 14 years my senior who has very little in common with me outside of our admiration for Davis Byrne?
When did it become reality that I would work for and very closely with an obsessive compulsive son with a serious Oedipus complex?

These questions may never be answered, but my longing for some understanding may not elude me for long.
I have joined ancestry.com.

A lot of people are interested in genealogy. It's fun to dive into the past, the same way it's fun to rifle through boxes in your grandparents basement. I wonder if my curiousity of the unknown isn't sparked by the fact that I know little to nothing about my fathers side of my family. There is a ton of information about my mothers side of the family, which is made easier by the fact that I know the names of most relatives going back four generations. Italians pass down family history the way they pass down recipes. While I like learning more about them it's the unknown characters of my paternal side that turned me into a fixated, family tree detective.

These are the things I do know about my paternal side : the names of my father and his parents, my grandparents divorced after having only one child together (spoiler alert), and that my father grew up southern RI.

After many an hour on my new favorite time wasting website of choice I have come up with some pretty intersting information:
My paternal grandmother's parents immigrated form Poland to the US.
They were most likely Jewish.
My child is the only child of a mother who was an only child of her father who was the only child of his mother who was the only child of her parents. Confused yet? Needless to say, not a lot of extended family on that end.
My father's father moved to the south, remarried and had three more children. In his obituary there was no mention of my father. This makes me a little sad and also more understanding of the fact that he is a total flake of a parent.
I know the names of my grandfather's other children (an aunt and two uncles) and have seen one of them on facebook.

Now what to do with this information?
Is this my way of knowing my father without having to know him?
Has the internet opened an unnatural portal that should be less easily navigated for a reason?

I'll let you know once Steven's family tree starts to grow. I've started one for him too, mainly because like me he knows very little about his father and his fathers family. I started this "work" under the guise that Lydia should know this information. But really it's because my family tree's trail is getting cold and I can't stop.

and to think I was optimistic

2009-03-09T09:08:00.004-04:00

The last few days have been a roller coaster ride the way only New England weather and being a parent of a six year old can be. One day you've got every window in the house open, clothes blowing dry on the line. The next morning you are bobsledding down a icy snow covered mountain and are sad to realize that your forgotten laundry is still on the line now frozen solid.

The daffodils in this picture were bought out of early spring fever. Little did I know there would be an actual full blown winter fever in our house.
Lydia whose temperature rarely rises above 101 degrees woke up Saturday morning in a complete fog with a temp of 104.6. This freaked me out enough but then she started saying things like "I think our living room has turned into a boat" and "my feet don't feel like they are touching the floor " while walking down the stairs. She could barely open her eyes, like a little mole in the sun, because they hurt so much. Cheeks as red as a July sunburn.
After vomiting in the doctors office and sleeping for most of the day cuddled in bed with me to stop the shivering she seemed to be on the mend. Sunday morning she was jumping around and had a small appetite. She was back, or so it seemed. We decided to go on a little walk. It was such a gorgeous day it was too hard to resist. Fresh air will do her good, right?
I knew I was in trouble when we got to Amy's bakery and she said she didn't want anything except water. She was a trooper and we finally made it back home, even though she needed to keep her eyes shut for most of the walk. When we got home her temp was up to 105.2. She fell asleep for another three hours only to be woken up by the cold compresses needed to get her fever down.
Now it's Monday and it is snowy and slushy and Lydia's temperature is down to 99.6. I'm relieved she's OK (note to self: never google - 104 fever, vomit and hallucinations together). But now I'm stuck in the house with a bored child who only has an appetite for Popsicles and apple juice (aka crazy juice). But my daffodils are open and I know it's spring somewhere.

Where's my riot grrrl?

2009-02-05T17:37:00.003-05:00

I'm a body hater. I don't hate anyone else's body.
I'm not very angry at mine at the moment either, but I have been a serious body hater in the past. I believe this form of self destructive behavior should be treated like any other debilitating behavior. You might be in remission, but if you were a body hater there is always a body hater in you. .

Of course I still have self doubt. But I like myself now and unless I'm trying on bathing suits I'm fine with me. I've already wasted enough time and energy, no more.

When I was pregnant with Lydia I was terrified to have either a boy or girl. A boy baby because of the unknown territory . A girl baby because of the danger of the known terrain. I knew one thing for sure, I was going to do anything possible to prevent my child from being body obsessed. I would raise a strong, healthy, happy person.

The words fat and diet were stripped from our vocabulary. I never put myself down in front of Lydia and I try not to let anyone else do either. I talk about exercise as a thing that helps you to fell good inside and out.

So when my 5 year old daughter walked into the kitchen and said, "I'm exercising in the living room", I replied "that's great sweetie, I bet it feels good to dance around." Then a steam engine appeared from nowhere and plowed me over, "I'm exercising to get skinny, I don't want to be fat."

After about five minutes of a very poor, unscripted, mishmash of a lecture Lydia says, "your just trying to make me feel good."

So... I checked out four books today from the library 101 Ways To Help Your Daughter Love Here Body, The Confident Child, Reviving Ophelia and How To Mother A Successful Daughter.

I'll let you in on my plan of action once I've gotten through these books. If anything it may improve my lecture.

Crazy Cat (lil') Lady

2009-01-28T08:52:00.004-05:00

When I hear a story about a woman with 10+ cat's in her home I always wonder: when did this begin? Most of these stories center around a woman who lives alone. You never hear positive stories about these overly enthusiastic animal lovers. More likely the stories villanize the woman with headlines such as "Crazy Cat Lady's Home Condemned 37 Cats Placed in Shelter". Or "Cat Corpse Found in Old Ladies Freezer". Well what is an elderly woman supposed to do with a cat corpse in the dead of winter? No pun intended.

Whether the feline loving "perpetrator" is just lonely and needy. Or desperately feels the obligation to care for homeless, hungry animals. It's hard for me to believe that the person is acquiring mass amounts of pets out of malice. I'm sure it just got out of control, like a collection of angel figurines. Knowing you like angels everyone starts to give you new angels, before you know it you've got a home full of the things. These people probably were eccentrics their entire lives. I doubt their family members and friends were surprised to find that the person had a few too many cats. There must have been warning signs.

Was there a photo taken like the one below of them when they were five? Or maybe Lydia is just a visionary and she will cultivate the "Shabby Kitty Lover Chic" look. Only time will tell.

Bored? yes, This Lonely? No

2009-01-23T18:48:00.007-05:00

Lately I've been a little bored. Well a lot bored. On more than one occasion I have referred to my brain as oatmeal.
Steven has worked extra hours over the past few weeks. He hasn't had a day off in a long time. When he gets home he's tired and I have nothing to talk about . I totally miss him. But, I don't miss him this much. The customer reviews of this thing are unbearably funny. (For some reason I can't get it to link. Go to Overstocks.com and then type in "hug me pillow") One hopes that some are fake, but either way they are amazing. There's a person who sleeps with 5 of them, so that it feels like there is a family in bed with her.

But you know there are people out there that are comforted by this half torso. And for that I applaud this product. Sometimes in all the gloom and doom it's nice to have a strong arm to rest your head on.

I'm not sure I could ever get passed the fact that it seems like a dismembered body part. It doesn't help that the hand appears to be backwards. I also have never been partial to men that wear oxford shirts. An old, stinky rock tee from a band that hasn't played since 1993 and then we'll talk.

Shopping Lists

2009-01-16T17:54:00.003-05:00

I feel like you can tell a lot about a person or their momentary situation when you look at what they buy at the grocery store. I think you can tell the most in the 10 or less lines. The fewer the items the better for a simple case study.

What do you think of the guy in front of you that buys a box of diapers, bacon, toothpaste, a can of tuna and a thirty pack of Bud. Or the woman who buys organic milk, tofu, prune juice, Mike and Ikes and a family size bag of Doritos. You can draw your own conclusions about their current situation. When running in to get a few things, what is that extra impulse buy? I imagine what the cashier might think of my purchases. I think about this whenever I buy tampons for some reason. I never just buy tampons. I'm usually in the supermarket and pick up a few other things. Is it normal to feel self conscious when I also get a bag of chocolate chips and a bottle of red wine with the tampons at nine in the morning?

On the nights that I work I can expect to get a phone call from the son of the woman that I take care of. He always seems desperate for something. I will preface this with he has a huge supply of everything they need. I have never had to pick something up that they don't already have at the house. Most night it's just a few things : ice, large Ziploc bags and smoked salmon one night. Sometimes he wants more things I emphasis want not need. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind picking a few things up for us (us?) at the co-op. I already called over there and asked them what sort of soup they have and if there is anything wonderful like moussaka. I'm not interested in what they have so could you just get me a few things. It would be really great and it would really help me and mom out."
After twenty minutes on the phone while he rummages through his kitchen here is the list:
2 glass bottles half gallon whole milk McNamara farm
2 organic veggie juice
2 blood orange Knutzen sparkling juice
2 organic Apple and Eve cranberry juice.
as many bottles as possible Nantucket Nectar's lemonade
5 bottles tonic water
4 four-packs sugar cane cola
4 four-packs root beer
8 gallons distilled water
2 six-packs Heineken
6 bottles sparkling water
1 and a half pounds ham sliced 1/16 of an inch
six navel oranges
mild salsa
a bag of ice
and mixed nuts
I'll tell you who was the mixed nut.
That would be me, as I braved sub zero weather to get all these beverages and random items in an empty store at 9:00 pm (in our town that's like 11:30 anywhere else).
And when I got to the cashier I couldn't help but wonder, "where does she think I am headed?"

Bratz Attack

2009-01-09T18:33:00.006-05:00

These moments come and go.

Every so often Lydia gets into something that I am horrified by.

This isn't the "I'm horrified, but really sort of happy" moment like when your daughter begins to love salamanders and caterpillars and tries to kiss them or expresses interest in playing ice hockey.

It's more the "I want pom poms to be a real cheerleader" moments.

The Cinderella obsession of age three followed by the Princess period of age four were easy enough to deal with. I liked princesses as a kid and I agree it is fun to have a costume of every character down to Pocahontas (yes she is a princess be it a less popular one). I even feel like I am to blame for this Disney saturation in some ways. It's sweet and cute to see your little one in a baby blue sparkly ball gown, it makes them look like one of those weird paintings of a royal child in the 1500's.

It is a little upsetting that most Disney princesses are waiting to be rescued by princes and usually the only friends they have are animals. I won't even bring up the mother abandonment hang ups. But all of this I can blow off as theatrics and drama, it adds to the story. Lydia has never even mentioned a prince, she really doesn't seem bothered. The mother issue also went under the radar. She loves to talk to animals and is forever dressing her lions and rabbit's in tutu's and gowns, but this doesn't seem to be a precursor for adult hang ups. Of course the self absorbed mother in me would love to think, "she could care less about those Disney Diva's". But I've been trying to remember (and remember and remember...) that she has her own taste and this taste needs to be respected. And in most cases she has better taste than I do anyway.

Now enter the Bratz. You know them, the big head /little body, lips lined in dark purple, street walker ensemble dolls. I have avoided them at all cost. I will not even entertain the idea of buying one. I've used many excuses: "Santa doesn't make lady of the night dolls" and "those are way too expensive, it costs a lot to get a doll that looks that cheap".

It worked for a while. That is until Lydia got a $25.00 Target gift card to spend on her own and has begun to read prices. Now she has decided she wants Neveah (someone had to fill me in that this is Heaven spelled backwards) and Peyton, a set of twin good girl/ bad girl Bratz. Will these dolls destroy her body image or turn her into a tart (Steven's words not mine). I doubt it. Will she think that this is what women should look like? Probably not. So I let her order them online.

The irony of the situation is, the gift card is from my re-born christian uncle. Can't wait for him to get a picture of the toy in the thank you card.

x-mas and new years true love

2009-01-06T12:54:00.006-05:00

It's not every Christmas that you can say that you really feel the love from someone close by the gift that they give you. Yes I realize that you should feel the love without a gift, and I do from these gift givers. It's just that sometimes when you give a gift or receive one you feel like the person whether it be yourself or someone else, has missed the mark.

Well this Christmas for our family was a winner in the "I feel the love" gift category.

I'll start with Lyd.
Without a shadow of a doubt she felt the love from Santa and now shares this love with Elizabeth Cole her A.G. doll. (A.G. is not getting any publicity from me they already swindled Santa out of $115.00 bucks). This doll was the constant topic of most conversations over the last 8 months since our first catalog arrived. And it was serious love at first sight in a way that only a five year old could feel about a doll. It doesn't hurt that Elizabeth is a colonial loyalist. God save the Queen!
I also experienced love when I opened my present from Allison. I've hinted a lot over the past year and my x-mas wish came true. I got the softest most stylish scarf a girl could want. And I got it in the most awesome color green. Check out my peeps in this photo a total match.

Whether Steven's Mum is sending Lydia sets of sweat pant track suits or pink camouflage coats she always knows exactly what she would love. I might cringe when Lydia opens the box, but never has she sent anything without Lydia's taste in mind. She made no mistake when sending us out family present.

The brits might be a little fashion kooky, but they know their sweets. Candy love.

I wasn't even sure that Steven would like this present. But when he unwrapped it he was in awe. The Mr. Fawlty in Steven could not suppress his glee. Not because he needs an autographed photo of Basil but because it was an item that he didn't know he ever wanted (or ever existed) but was something that is so fun to have.
I know that Christmas is not about what you get or what you give, but sometimes the things that you do get actually make you feel more of the love.

Oh, it was also great that our friend Jeremy at first glance, thought the Fawlty photo was a picture of someone in our family. That my friends is priceless.

Martha Stewart why do you always fail me?

2008-12-12T08:04:00.007-05:00

Why does every Martha project that I try turn into something that looks like it was made by a mad man? Is it possible that Martha is setting me up for failure? In some not so passive but very aggressive way is she trying to make every inspiring crafty to fail miserably so they just continue to watch her in awe?

This theory began about ten years ago when Corinne and I set out to make x-mas cookies using a Martha recipe. They were cut out sugar cookies with icing. In hindsight I have no idea why we choose the Martha recipe for such a basic cookie, I think we figured it was the best. We were trying to impress. The cookies were a total disaster. They melted all over the pan turning our cookie cutter stars into lumpy blobs and our santas into turtles. But we pressed on continuing to make about 6 dozen super "crispy" oddly shaped cookies with runny sticky icing.

Now I do love to watch Martha especially her older show on Fine Living. Which brings me to my next Martha debacle. I'll just call them Martha's Balls. They are ornaments made with string that harden and then you coat them with glitter.

On the show they looked so easy to make. I thinks she might have even said "only a moron could fuck this project up". She blew up some small balloons and coated them with Pam. I didn't have Pam (this was my first mistake NEVER improvise with Martha) so I coated the balloons lightly with cooking oil. Then you wrap the balloons with string, after the string is secure coat with glue. Let dry and harden then pop the balloon and coat with glitter.

Now Martha dried her balls with a super intense ionic dryer of some sort for effect. But she said "if you don't have one of these fancy tools created at NASA especially for me, then let them dry for a few hours".

Well I let them dry overnight, but when I popped the balloon the string just collapsed into itself and turned into a sticky lumpy mess. Recognize a pattern here.

I will not give up on this project. I am buying Pam today and if that doesn't work I'm calling NASA.

What do you do when you have some extra time? Obviously not blog.

2008-12-11T10:43:00.003-05:00

Maybe I've been feeling a little less than secure or maybe I am just a chronic procrastinator, but I have been avoiding the blog.

I have gotten a few things done. I finally finished the curtains that I have been planning for the better part of a year.

I think that they are rather snazzy. I need to find a solution for the under layer to get rid of the lace. Maybe a sheer or a roman shade. I'm not sure.

I also actually made a present for one of Lyd's friends. A cute little sparkly apron. Which I whipped together in under an hour with no pattern. If only I could say focused and motivated, I might be able to get more things done. My creative inspiration Allison may be able to help me with the hat I started to knit in 2003.

New motto: More creative projects Yes! More "Gavin and Stacey" No!

I should say that I also have been going to the gym religiously (four a week that's as religious as I get). And I have some noticed a few (small as they may be) positive changes. Now that I'm up to 3 miles, I want to get on some sort of 5k road race circuit for the spring with my exercise inspiration Corinne.

You know meet up in Poughkeepsie or some other random place for the weekend, run 3 miles then go for dinner and drinks. Sounds like motivation to me.

What do you do when you get fired from your dream job?

2008-11-09T18:11:00.006-05:00

So I started my new job about a month ago, (mercury was in retrograde at the time). This astronomical fact was noted by my new employer. I should have run for the hills but I was too excited.

This was my dream job. My employers were sucessful authors/ visionaries/ personal restructurers. The setting was a beautiful location of Vermont, overlooking rolling hills in a refurbished 1830's farmhouse, with a boss who wears Couture. The anticipated projects were exciting. I would be an event planner/ copy editor/ administrative assistant/ production queen/ the overall go to girl. I was up for the task and rearing to go. I felt like finally everything was in line and I would get to do the job I always dreamed I was capable of doing.

These are but a few of the assignments I was given:

I planned an organic menu of four meals for forty people with the personal chef.

I trademarked a phrase and a book title.

I drove with one of my employers to Boston to pick up his car. And used my mad Boston skills to find the car shop that was hidden down a back alley. He is the craziest driver. I have driven with some crazy drivers, The Netherlands, Italy, Budapest and Liz Caulfield etc. I know crazy drivers when I see them. So I also got to see my life flashing before my eyes several times while on the time clock.

I picked up a deceased dogs ashes from a creepy pet funeral home.

I picked up one of my employers MRI.

Unfortunately my car broke down so I wasn't able to drive one of my employers to the dentist for a cleaning while she was on Valium to calm her nerves.

I edited a website daily.

I responded to a months worth of e-mails.

I made an appointment for the cat of my employers daughter who was suffering from an undisclosed illness. I have never seen nor know the age of this feline. When I called, the vet rightfully thought I was on crack.

I read and proofed 30 + stories about Transcendence from people all over the world. A very transcendent experience.

I drove an amazing Jaguar (to get inspected).

I was positive. I liked it. I was always busy and really felt like everything was going great.

Then I'm not sure what happened.

I forgot to turn the answering machine on when I left on Thursday.

I said that I couldn't drive to Boston on Sunday morning to drop one of the employers off at the airport.

Or maybe I am completely oblivious and just sucked.

But on Friday I got the can, I left graciously with one weeks extra pay and a boulder in my stomach. I cried like a baby on the way home.

And now I'm back to ground zero.

The worst part of all of this is I really wanted this to be great.

Tag a Tree

2008-10-19T19:22:00.002-04:00

For the first time in a while I feel slightly ahead of the game. I started a job last week that I actually enjoy. I've been going to the gym. And for the first time ever I've managed to actually tag a tree pre-holiday rush. Never have I felt so organized.
It doesn't take much.

This is Steven and Lydia with our x-mas tree 2008.
I think we are more excited about Christmas this year because for the first time we will celebrate at our home. We will get to wake up Christmas morning and sit in our PJ's, opening presents and drinking coffee with Baily's. We won't have to rush around like lunatics in a mad frenzy to get to RI in time and we will get to plan the day on our terms. This means mostly eating, drinking and being merry without feeling the compulsion to clean for five hours of the day.

This is Lydia with our tree 2014, I really could not see getting it today, since the trees were a flat rate of $32.00. Steven humor went undetected when he asked the woman whose was manning the information table, "do you have any Canadian Trees?"

When we pick up our tree, December 14th I can only hope that the road is this clear.
Gorgeous little x-mas tree gumdrops.

Yes, it seems that the Lord himself has blessed our tree. We will have a joyous Christmas after all.

Welcome Naomi !!!!!

2008-10-14T21:27:00.004-04:00

I could not have been more excited today when I opened my e-mail and realized that Liz and Ivano had a baby girl yesterday. I had a dream a few months ago and in it I knew if they were having a boy or girl. I told Liz, but now I have no idea what I dreamt. It doesn't matter, after seeing these pictures it seems like I've known forever that Naomi was coming.

I'm so happy for Liz and Ivano. I'm so excited that Naomi is going to have the luxury of a rockin' mom and a super hero of a dad. I'm also just so proud of my dear friend because she has followed her dreams unrelentingly. She has had more adventures, lived in more places and befriended more people than most people will in their lifetimes. (can you tell I dig this girl?)
I have always said that I want to raise Lydia to be like Liz. To have great confidence in herself and her friends and to take giant risks in order to fulfill her dreams. I do hope that Lydia doesn't break as many bones as Liz has in this pursuit. I wish the Daniele family all the happiness and adventures that they can handle. And take your time kids, it will be five years later before you know it.

Back to School Rules!

2008-09-02T12:00:00.002-04:00

I don't really remember when I actually felt this way as a student. I'm sure somewhere before third grade I was totally excited about starting school. Don't get me wrong I did enjoy a lot of it, I liked the social aspect, I loved music class as a kid (oh Don Gato was a cat...) and I loved art. But I remember also counting the days left of summer vacation like it was an execution stay. So I have to say I was a little surprised when Lyd got up at 6:00am like it was x-mas morning and was bouncing with excitement on the first day of school.

She picked out her smart new outfit and was rearing to go. I on the other hand was a bit of a mess. Yes, I was that mom who was crying during all school sings rendition of "This Land in Your Land". And of course out of all the kids mine was the one who seemed perfectly content to sit in the middle of her new B.F.F. on the auditorium floor while I'm ten rows back trying to wipe the mascara from my cheeks with an old supermarket receipt from the bottom of my pocketbook.
Steven handled it much better. But I was amazed at how impressed he was of the school and the administration. I love Lyd's school and think it's a great fit for her. It's small (one class per grade) and it has some diversity which is rare in VT.
But I swear you'd think Steven grew up during the great depression or in some sort of training school the way he was acting. "Wow they have a music program and art classes, that is really great, she's gonna love this." and "There are so many windows and natural light, it's really nice in here." Although he really hates that the kids don't wear uniforms and has managed to bring the topic up with almost every parent or school employee he meets. So everything seems to be falling into place. It has been only two days so far. And this morning on the third day Lydia asked over breakfast with squinted, suspicious eyes...."so what are you going to do all day while I'm working hard at school?" Steven looked over with the same expression.

I on the other hand just sipped my ice coffee, School does Rule.

End of Summer

2008-08-27T17:12:00.006-04:00

Where did the summer go?
I'm really having a tough time grasping the idea that Lydia starts kindergarten tomorrow. Not only does it seem that the summer has flown by, but I also am really having a tough time with the idea that my child is no longer a preschooler. I've come to the realization that this isn't really about her. She is more than ready to start full time school and thanks to grandma she's got the wardrobe to prove it.
This is totally about me.
The past five years have let me be a mom. Everything else that I have done was just extra-curricular. If I wasn't happy with my job I could fall back on the idea that it was just temporary until Lydia was in school. If I got a bad grade in a class it was the result not having enough time to study. When I stopped running and working out it was because it didn't seem like I could fit it in. I now have a great schedule with tons of free time to work out 5 days a week and to study all afternoon.
But I'm not so sure I'm ready for my old life after all. I know I should just get over it and be happy for god's sake, but I'm totally bummed. I'm going to miss the girl. I feel a little weird watching Arthur alone. This is how I feel in this moment, we'll see how I feel tomorrow after my first full day of freedom.
Here are some high lights of the summer.
FARM MADNESS

Chalk Outside the Museum Proud Soccer Girl
Proud Soccer Dad
None of this anxiety is helped by the fact that Roxy, my cat is on her last legs and has an ominous vet appointment tomorrow after I drop off Lydia for her first day of school.

Yes, I am the mom who kills the cat on her daughter's first day of school. How many years of therapy will it take to right that one.

When it's not raining we...

2008-08-06T10:13:00.007-04:00

Pick blueberries. We are trying to freeze at least twenty pounds of blueberries this year. Last year we froze 15 pounds and ran out in October. We were well on our way this year we already had about 8 pounds in the freezer when our fridge died and we lost them all. We are now back to ground zero. Not that I mind going back to Green Mountain Orchard, were there is always something yummy being baked.

Spend time with friends. My dear friend Allison and her sons brought Lydia and I to the Cheshire Fair last week. The kids had a great time. They got to see a lot of animals and pretend to farm
Lydia was more than happy to go on every ride possible for a child of her height. I swear that girl worries me. I think it's great that she is so adventurous, I just wish she had a little bit of apprehension.

Today it's raining, again. Off to the library.

Camp Crazy!

2008-07-25T21:28:00.004-04:00

So day camp is officially over.

My two weeks of alone time is done.

I'm actually pretty proud of myself because instead of sitting around all day and watching A & E I actually got some things done.

During this time I single handedly cleaned the attic.

I read three books, (I recommend The Wishbones by Tom Perrotta ).

I cleaned out our bedroom closet (there were still things in there unpacked from when we moved in 2006).

I not only got the roofers to call me back but they came AND actually went on the roof and replaced some loose slates and fixed things.

The garden looks somewhat healthy.

And when it wasn't down pouring, I exercised.

Also Steven and I spent one day together alone, we went out for sushi and took a mid day nap.

For a slacker like me I'm pretty happy with my accomplishments.

And from what I can make out Lydia had a good time too. When she wasn't too exhausted to speak she told vivid tales of the "mystery players". From what I can piece together these are two camp counselors in costume who the kids believe are people who live in the woods and only come out when the they are good. She also was super excited because we opted to let her have the lunch, which is basically the summer camp version of school lunch. Taco day and chocolate milk were the highlights.
But the biggest change I witnessed was here new alter ego:
"Camp Crazy Girl".

This is the child that now dances around and says "oh yeah, oh yeah!", like Vinnie Bobarino, "we bad, we bad", usually with her thumbs in the air.
She also goes "Ugh!" a lot when kicking a ball or high fiving someone. It's something between WWF meets Saturday Night Fever. And this morning at breakfast she yelled "Awwwsum" while eating pancakes. Well that might actually come from me.

Where does she get the stamina?

2008-07-14T18:25:00.003-04:00

I worked the last two nights from 9:00pm - 7:30 am, and although I got to sleep some I can understand why I'm a little tired. But still I am always totally floored at the fact that Lydia can pretty much be on the go from 6 am - 8:30 at night. I don't know how she does it.

This morning she had her yearly physical, where the doctor said basically she's super healthy (this in itself is amazing to me). She had three huge shots, which made her a little sluggish for about 5 minutes (sort of like if you shot a humongous grizzly with one tiny tranquilizer dart).

After that we went to the grocery store where Lydia not only helped me with my list but also helped me put the groceries away. After that we went to the pool and she got to swim and play with friends.

Then at 3:45 we picked up her friend Sebastian and went to the library where we built bugs out of food (well candy). It's now 7:00 and I am officially done but the gal keeps truckin'. She wants to act out a story and suggests we take stills. Here's her story:

I WANT TO CATCH AND EAT A BIRD by Lydia

I am sad.
I am hungry.
Get over here I want to eat you.
I'm getting angry.

I'm coming to get you. Yeah! I've caught you I'm so excited.

Yummy in my tummy! Ugh, I'm full.

And when I think of stamina and see this picture I realize that I too have had serious stamina at some points in my life. Strolling out of some dive bar after closing and this photo isn't so unique. I've got to get this girl into sports or we're in trouble.

Camp!

2008-07-08T13:17:00.003-04:00

Who knew camp could be so much fun.
I myself never really enjoyed camp. Although I wasn't sent to camp until about the age of ten. I was the kind of kid that would rather sit in a dark room with the curtains drawn watching Gilligan's Island through Three's Company on hot summer days. Maybe it's good that I am starting her young at this camp business so she doesn't already know how addictive Days of Our Lives is, and that eating an entire half gallon of chocolate chip ice cream before lunch is actually pretty easy.

But after one day she seems to love it. Swimming, crafts, baseball ( she was so excited to tell me she hit two balls really hard, now that's one skill she will never learn from either of her parents), archery (ditto) all in one day.

And best of all I have free time to do all the things that I love to do. I exercised. I got my hair cut. I tried on expensive estate jewelry at the fancy store in town. I pawned through vintage clothes. Now I'm going to start cleaning out our attic, not so much fun but much easier without the child. Granted it's hard to find an episode of Gilligan's on anymore, but I glad I'm not just watching TV. Well it is only day two, I've got 8 more of these to dive into the ice cream.

Happy 4th of July!

2008-07-04T12:02:00.003-04:00

Happy 4th of July!
This one goes out to my favorite Mediterranean queen, living in gorgeous Italy. You can take the gal out of the U.S., but I know she's still whipping up stars and stripes cool whip cakes and wishing she was back in the states to watch the fireworks.
And since she is a "Super Woman" and almost a "Super Mamma", this one is dedicated to you!
We miss you Liz!
Brattleboro Parade. There were many great bands, tons of firetrucks and lots of flags. But this was by far my best picture. We got to see lot's of friends in the parade. Jeremy and Sebastian rocked! But I swear there are tens times more people in the parade than watching it. That's OK more candy for us.

Consumer Anonymous or Bust

2008-07-02T19:08:00.003-04:00

I have always been a terrible consumer.
Actually that's not right at all I'm a wonderful consumer, I'm just terrible at abstaining from consumerism.
I have seriously toned it down a lot.
Mostly from necessity, now that I have a growing child and an aging house I no longer have the luxury of shopping all the time. Also I live in an area now with no downtown crossing and cheap knock off stores.
I have become much more practical.
I utter phrases like, "will I wear this more than ten times this season?" and "will this skirt go with at least one pair of shoes I own already and three tops?".
It has really gotten sad. Gone are the days of "this canary yellow wicker purse and magenta sequins top really don't match anything I own but, I must have them because if I don't get them I'll be sad and dream about them and when I return after much distress they will be SOLD to some other cool chickadee with more sense than me."

Now you will see how much I have really changed for better or worse.

Recently the family went to Target in search of a few "needed" items. I made a list. Lydia needed some supplies for camp. A backpack, water bottle and towel were on the list. She got to pick them out and thank god we walked away with Hello Kitty and not the Bratz. I also wanted to pick up a set of sheets and a few other household items. I got the new David Sedaris book, also on list but not a necessity. I bought a t-shirt and a dress, (impulse buys yes, but averaged into list because I knew there would be something I couldn't live without). All in all a pretty successful trip. I didn't buy storage bins, something I usually always feel the need to get because we have so much clutter.
This is where it gets messy. As we are walking toward the register the child is grabbing everything and anything she can get her hands on. She already has a bunch of cool stuff that she picked out! But she wants more. MORE! Veruca Salt would be proud!
Steven ended up getting her a pair of maryjane's for "school" in the fall. And she was crying as we left the store with a ton of stuff for her.
It's gotten out of hand. I have turned our child into a total consumer also. I love to buy things for her. There have been more times than I can count that I have gone out specifically looking for an item for myself such as rain boots and returned with a sundress or purse for my child. I have created this situation.
Case in point today we went into Verde looking for a much needed sunhat for me, we walked out with a little chipmunk puppet for Lydia. This might not seem like a big deal but it is a constant occurrence.

So I have decided as of today July 2, 2008, I will not buy anything, not a thing for myself or Lydia that we don't need, for one month. That means sunscreen = yes, little cute sundress with embroidered cherries = no.
I feel like one of the many who have stopped eating all carbs in order get their eating habits in control.

It seems easy now but wait till the hot pizza/ cute sandels are under our nose, I know it won't be easy.
I'll keep you posted.

I'm back... so now what the hell am I going to do?

2008-06-24T21:21:00.002-04:00

So I am officially done with going to RI to help my grandmother. We went on vacation last week and I just did three overnights in a row at my new job. Now what the heck am I supposed to do? I have some grand plans. Paint the house. Work on the garden. Start running again ( I see your eyes rolling). Write a little ( OK your eyes will get stuck like that if you keep it up). I know it hasn't been long but I already feel like I'm slipping down the slippery slope of laziness. Lydia on the other hand stays busy while I procrastinate. This is what I find on my camera after a day of loafing around the house.

Photo shoot ala Roxy cat.
Lion decked out also at photo shoot, in Steven's glasses.
Close up: Lydia, lion and fudgicle smears.

I guess the scary thing (or exciting thing if your an optimist) is that I am entering a new chapter in my life. I'm figuring out what to go to school for, RN or MFA? Lydia will be in full time school soon, and since I do overnight shifts I will have my days free. I know it's been one day of freedom but I am caged in by the future, (now even I'm rolling my eyes).

What a way to start the summer!

2008-06-20T20:34:00.003-04:00

Our summer has begun. We just got back from staying with Corinne and Eric in Wellfleet. Usually it rains the entire time that we go on vacation. But this time we totally lucked out. It was in the mid seventies all week with crystal blue skies. We all had the time of our lives. Never has our family had such an amazing vacation. Lydia like her mum and dad totally adores Corinne and Eric. And they were as usual the bestest hosts.
I felt like P-Diddy most days because we hung out on the most amazing beach in Truro rarely coming into contact with anyone else. It was like our own private beach, hanging with our entourage.
The water was crisp but totally swimable. Lydia, the fearless of course ran full force into the water upon every arrival.
The happy family didn't get too sunburned fortunately.

Lydia totally loves Eric. What's not to love, outside of Corinne he's the funniest person she knows.
Eric and Steven ( new B.F.F.E.) also had a great time together, golfing and fishing. Lobsters and oysters for dinner, doesn't get much better.
And for probably the most astonishing event of the trip: for the first time in our seventeen years of friendship I was chauffeured by my learner's permitted friend. I'm so proud. I'm thinking a ladies road trip is in our future.

We had the greatest time.

We really needed this vacation.

Not for one second did I take our trip for granted.

The only sad part was saying goodbye.

I wish we lived closer so we could just randomly be together.

It was just so nice to hang out and the pristine surroundings didn't hurt.

Thanks again to the greatest hosts, you are so sweet, funny, gorgeous (I'm serious but I also really want to get invited back).

Happy Birthday/ Fathers Day

2008-06-15T19:05:00.004-04:00

Yesterday was Steven's Birthday and today is Fathers Day. Yesterday we gave him a bunch of presents but none was more prized than this Arsenal Jersey.
Well... maybe not as prized as seeing his first born sporting a matching uniform. I think I know for sure what Steven might have looked like as a child now.
We had a great day at Jamaica State Park with Jim, Mary, Dominic and the boys. As you can see the shirt has yet to come off.
I suspect we'll be seeing a lot of this jersey.

All good things must ......

2008-06-14T13:17:00.003-04:00

Lydia and I spent our last week in RI helping my grandma.
Very bittersweet.
We made it 10 months if you can believe it. Leaving most Mondays before the sun and coming home Thursday afternoon. Throughout this whole process Lydia has been pretty amazing and Steven has been really supportive.

Overall, it was a great experience for me. I feel really lucky that I got to spend all that time with my grandmother. This whole process enabled me to not only get close to my grandmother again, but it also helped me to understand the struggles and benefits of living in a multi-generational situation. The travelling was the worst part, but it had it's positives too. While VT had 6 feet of snow RI was pretty much snow free. We got to spend our weekends in the mountains and our weekdays near the ocean. Not bad. A really hard thing about this was that we made so many friends in RI. And having to say goodbye. Having moved (sprinted really) away from RI at 18, I never dreamed of spending so much time back there or meeting so many great people. This is Lydia's class singing at the end of the year family night/ graduation. So cute.
This is the gang that basically adopted Lydia from the first moment they met. Lydia fell right into place and the threesome became a foursome.
For all the stress, anxiety and mishaps, we all survived. I have gotten the opportunity to give back on some level to the person who meant so much to me as a child. I also have come to terms with the RI in me, ( anyone from RI who actually has escaped will understand this). We've made a lot of new friends and we are ready for our next big adventure. SUMMER!

We "still" love our town

2008-06-13T21:23:00.005-04:00

I wonder all the time how we ended up here. There are thousands of places that we could have chosen. But we picked little ol' Brattleboro,VT. And most days I'm pretty happy that we made it here. The strolling of the heifers is a great time to love Bratt.

You pretty much see everyone you know. And you feel for a little while at least that you are amongst people who get you. It's really nice to be someplace where it's normal on some level for people to do yoga alone on the street and your child's male pre-school teacher to wear a feather boa and a dress to work.

So once a year our town parades some cows through town and half the town is in the parade while the other half cheers them on. The kids love it because they throw out a lot of candy.
The parents love it because it's one more day to do something free that the whole family can look forward to.
Even the monsters in this parade are offering friendly messages.

So the rest of the world thinks we are crazy. So we want to impeach the prez. So our town has a history of letting people hang out naked. I always said I wanted to live in a place were we weren't the "weird" family. We are still a little weird, but our freak flag doesn't seem to get noticed in our town.

The Devil Inside

2008-06-01T16:58:00.002-04:00

Sometimes it's a little easier to see the devil peaking out. Lately Lydia and I have been having some serious power struggles. All of you people out there who have children under to age of five or haven't been a parent to a five year old child in a while may scoff, but I'm telling you it can get rough.
Yesterday, I got up at 7:30 in the morning, (how dare I sleep "in" to 7:30 I know). And my little cherub of a child had scalped all of her dolls and a third of her hair was also cut off.
This has been an issue for a while. The girl loves a make-over. Usually I just deal and cut bangs or use a lot of clips and barrettes to make it look normal. This time I was obviously a little grouchy and well totally exasperated. So I just handed her the scissors and said "Cut as much off as you want now. Get it over with and I'll make an appointment at the salon for whatever is left." (Bad Mommy moment)
Well four hours and $35.00 later:

My child has short hair. A cut which is very sweet and cute and totally hers. It's something I never imagined for her and yet she is so beautiful.

Lesson learned: She is becoming her own person. It's not about hair and it's not about control. It's about a five year old wanting to cut her hair. Yes I wanted to cry as I watched those golden locks fall to the floor but it helped me to realize that of course she will always be an extension of me. But she isn't a reflection of me. And that's a good thing to start to realize, because it's hard enough to be yourself, it's damn near impossible to try be what your mom wants you to be.

Now if only I can remember this moment for the future when she decides to join the Young Republicans.

I love NY

2008-05-05T20:45:00.004-04:00

Last weekend I brought Lydia to New York City. We both had so much fun. Corinne was the hostess with the mostess as always, and showed us a great time.

I really miss NY, and feel sometimes that I live on the other side of the universe. I miss living in a city. I miss that anonymous feeling everywhere you go. I miss seeing different types of people. I miss seeing the random celeb. Hello we stood next to Matt Dillon while waiting for the light to change near Central Park. (I know Dally from The Outsiders!!!) And I really miss being able to get anything delivered.

But I really miss Corinne.

It was so nice just to hang out and spend time with her. And Lydia pretty much adores her. She entertained Lydia to no end.

Even when Lydia tried to wrestle Corinne in the Village or lick her hand on the subway, Corinne totally played along.

At one point Corinne wondered about running into someone from college,and if they would think that we were partners with our love child, "No doubt about it", I replied.

We spent a lot of time in Central Park, and on the fastest Carousel ever. Only in NY does the carousel revolve at 50 M.P.H.
Lydia would love to live with Corinne, there is no doubt. She associates her with great playgrounds all over the place. And a hot dog stand on every corner.
Is it any surprise that my child ended up looking exactly like the closest friend I've ever had? I think not.

We had a great time.

Lydia was very well behaved (there must be something in the water).

Now I just need to get some sleep.

Money Pit #2?

2008-04-27T18:48:00.005-04:00

I will preface this with I Love Steven!
I love his sense of humor, his sarcasm and his support.
I love that he is such a great Dad and that he has his own interests.
Yes, some of these interests are easy to brag about: his paintings and his music.
Others a little harder to explain: horse racing and beer swilling.
But I now realize that there is one hobby/ interest where I need to draw the line.
This is his love of the "handy mans special".

Do you have a home that the foundation is crumbling?
Are there hundreds of birds living in your attic?
Is there glass all over the yard because almost every window has been smashed?
Has your home been inhabited by angry squatters within the last year?
Well then we would love to check it out?

"Run child run. Before the wind pushes it over."

I too love the idea of buying a run down home (with good bones of course), and fixing it up. The problem is, we already own a home that needs fixing up. We have painting projects to finish, a porch floor that needs replacing, roof work to pay for and new windows to install. All those things that seemed so easy to remedy before we closed on our house are still undone. We've owned this house for almost two years, mind you.
Do we need another house to deal with? Do we need a home that was vandalized with what looks like lots of paint and a sledgehammer? I would say no. But then I hear Steven,"look at that wrap around porch. And the garden, it's gorgeous. Have you noticed the hand crafted staircase?" I just fall in love with his optimism.
Blind, unrealistic optimism yes.
But optimism none the less.

The Blame Game

2008-04-24T19:31:00.008-04:00

It's comforting and satisfying.
It takes the edge off.
It kills time.
It's liberating.
Am I talking about an icy cold margarita or a plate of hot brownies?
No, I'm talking about the Blame Game. Mine and most peoples favorite pastime. There is nothing I love more than sitting around and talking about my woes while blaming a list of people and institutions:

1) The President- (while I can't blame him for the fact that I was watching American Idol, I can blame him for giving a shout out on the program) I blame him for most of my problems related to money, insecurity about my world, the future, etc.

2)My Mother- I blame her for everything. I know typical. But seriously, I blame her for instilling a complete sense of insecurity in me, weight, men, intelligence, mothering, the whole lot. She's the easiest person I know personally to blame so she gets most of it.

3) Bad drivers- totally stress me out, "passing on the right, shame on you"

4) Little House on the Prairie- How dare you Ingall's be so darn positive when your life was such a nightmare? You gave a whole generation false hope. Mainly my generation.

Now I will show you the blame game played by others.

My Grandma blames everything on my mother (ya see people). It's actually pretty funny because most of it is unprovoked, I just can't help but finding humor in it. My Mother took my grandmothers hairdryer away from her because she was using it for things like warming the bed before she got into it by laying it under the covers and leaving the room for an hour. She also used it to dry clothing and heat cold coffee. But ever since then if anything in the house is lost keys, pocketbook, the newspaper, her toothbrush she blames my mom. It's brilliant. Even though she has lost almost all of her memory, she remembers enough to play the Blame Game.

Lydia places the blame for her unhappiness on many things. She blames the cat for not being "a real pet". She blames Lion for giving her the hiccups . She blames "a mouse" whenever I find an unexplained mess. And of course she blames me for many things: no siblings, being mean to Daddy, not letting her wear short skirts without undies and the list is growing.

So this is where the blame game gets complicated. I don't mind playing when other people are at fault, but when I have to take on the weight it's a whole other issue.

There has got to be a way of pinning this on my mom.

Hooters for Hair

2008-04-10T18:23:00.002-04:00

When is a haircut for you child just a haircut? And when is a haircut for your child a lesson in the exploitation of woman? "Yes Lydia, even you one day may wear a tight white tank and five inch heals and earn an honest living." It's the American way and that is why I attempted to bring my child to Trim's in RI for a "trim" if you can believe it.

I know what you are thinking. How can you be so naive? Are you that oblivious? Well, I wasn't thinking and obviously it shows because I almost let my child get a bob at the "Hooters for Hair". There are huge posters of "pretty ladies" in the window but don't most places have pictures of attractive people in their windows when they are trying to lure in costumers. It's on the way to Providence so I wasn't thrown that you couldn't see inside, it just sort of had a city feel. It is located relatively close to her preschool (about two miles, that's like next door in RI), and it was on my way. I had noticed that it was there a few months back and stored it's location in my memory Haircut = place across from CVS. This is what people do, right, "I don't need a "trim" now brain but store this info so, I know where to go when I do". Plus it said barbershop which I associate with cheap. When I was little I got my hair cut at a barbershop with my granddad. It's an easy cut what's the big deal. She just need a quick trim for god sakes and in RI that might cost me more than my shoes. Well now I know what the big deal is.

So I open the door and immediately realize my mistake. I will say all the woman had a disturbing Bratz Doll appeal (which Lydia loved) . She was pretty upset that we left in such a tizzy.

I might have changed my mind if I knew that you get a free, cold can of Bud with each cut. Now that's my type of marketing.

Where is my perspective?

2008-04-06T17:54:00.004-04:00

Sometimes I loose sight of who I am, and who my partner and child are. It happens all the time, I allow myself to relax and the next thing you know Steven is screaming at a stranger while my daughter is walking around in a jean skirt mini with a tube top on. I try not to put too much stock into these episodes because they usually blow over. Steven will walk away from the stranger without being pummeled and Lydia will find a different midriff exposing outfit to lounge around in. But when it comes to myself it gets a little more tricky.

I recently suffered from an episode of "Not My Child Syndrome". Everyone should be aware of this great debilitating illness. And if you are not aware of it, you have not been to any area where parents congregate with their preschoolers recently. "Not My Child Syndrome" effects most parents many times but most fail to recognize the serious symptoms. But let it be known, even if the victim is oblivious, every other parent in the vicinity will be aware but unfortunately will most likely become paralyzed from another ailment, this is called the "My Tongue Is Frozen From Rolling My Eyes So Hard Disorder".

The "Not My Child Syndrome" started a few weeks ago at the park when Lydia and a girlfriend of hers were hunting for a treasure at the playground after school. They were running all over the place with a group of boys from her class. There was lots of giggling and shrieking. Everything seemed harmonious, (I take a lot of pride in the fact that Lydia seems to feel comfortable playing with boys and girls). I scoff at other parents who talk of gender recognition effecting five year olds and I've always been happy that Lydia has not only had very close friends that are boys but seems to notice no difference in them. I always dreamed of having a daughter that was confident enough to forge her way past gender stereotypes and just enjoy the personality of the child regardless of their sex. It was at this self righteous moment when I hear, "Come on, you have to rescue us from the pirates we can't do it we're girls we need a boy to help us." a pause "boys are more scary than girls we are too pretty." It was at this point that I looked up from my book to see my daughter not only screaming these words but attempting to tie the ends of her shirt in a midriff exposing knot. Even the most severe case of "Not My Child Syndrome" could not blind me from seeing my daughter at this moment. I blame it on the schoolsor Hanna Montana (this is another syndrome called "playing the blame game" this needs no explanation).

Oh there are many more of these moments, most luckily go unnoticed by this impaired Mamma. But every once in a while (usually when I'm reflecting on what a great open minded child we've raised) I get shook into reality as my child karate chops and yells "high-ya" at some unsuspecting Asian child with her best Mulan moves.

Lion

2008-03-30T21:03:00.003-04:00

When I was little I had a stuffed Dumbo that I slept with and was very attached to. I think I loved Dumbo so much because he was a deformed, emotionally vulnerable animal who was dealing with a mother that was thought of as crazy. He also tried desperately to get his life together and liked a good drink. You figure out the attraction.

What I am trying to get to is that Lydia has an animal that she just adores. His/her (depends on the day) name is Lion. She dresses him up and brings him everywhere. She recently acquired a carrying case for him. This is a picture that she took, without my knowledge of Lion on a hot water bottle. (He gets cold) She tells me very often that he is sick, "Lion doesn't feel well today because he played with a fox last night. Lion is allergic to foxes." Lion usually is covered in band-aids. Me: "Why does lion have a bandage on his nose?" Lydia: "I bit him last night by accident and now his nose is broken." Yesterday I was told that Lion might be dying. Lydia: "I have some bad news. Lion might be dying. He's spending too much time with foxes, he can't control himself. He needs help." Me: "where should he go for help?" Lydia: "I'm not sure. Somewhere that sick people go who can't control themselves around foxes."

Luckily Lion is doing much better. But I can't help but notice Lydia being drawn to someone with an addictive self destructive personality. Is this a sign? What was your favorite animal or doll? Did they have a dark disfunctional background? What does this say about you? I think I'm onto something here.

How did I get in this pickle?

2008-03-28T19:38:00.002-04:00

By pickle I mean predicament to the ultimate degree. You ever notice that just when you weren't even paying attention all the rules in your life change? You think you're in charge and have everything under control and the next thing you know you are side swiped by a role reversal reality check. Well that has been my week. I'm not complaining. I'm actually in awe of this phenomenon and I feel like it deserves a notation.

One big issue is my Grandmother. The poor thing can't remember a darn thing. She gets totally frustrated by this, until 30 seconds go by and she forgets to be frustrated and its business as usual. She asks the same questions all day long.

"What day is it?" "Did I eat lunch?" "What's your name?"

I love her dearly, but I have watched her become someone that I don't know very well and she certainly has no clue who I am. She doesn't know that she practically raised me and that when I was my daughters age I loved her so much that I carried a photo of her to school. But she does know one thing, and she stated it pretty clearly this week.

"You seem like a smart girl, you need to do something with your life."

And the pickle jar is sealed.

Lydia my charming, sweetheart of a trouble making child also seems to have one up on me as of late. Today she destroyed her room. She got hold of the cinnamon while I was dealing with our taxes. A jar of cinnamon some water and one egg later, her room is one contaminated mess. Even if I could force her to clean up this disaster, she would never be able to. This concoction was in drawers, all over clothes and smeared into the floor. As I'm cleaning up Lydia says, "Lion and I were talking", (lion is her fave rave stuffed animal that she brings everywhere and is often very insightful, although he is allergic to foxes supposedly) "and we were thinking that you really ought to go on a vacation. You seem really tired."

It used to be that Lydia was my daughter and she didn't hold much insight into my emotional state. She might recognize that I am happy or cranky but she took this as inevitable maternal emotions. Only recently have I begun to realize that she sees me for who I really am.
Take it from me when your five year old and her lion recommend a vacation you need to take them up on it.
And when your 95 year old grandmother with dementia realizes that you are wasting your potential it's time to get to work.

The Wig Runs In The Family

2008-03-15T14:45:00.006-04:00

Sometimes I wonder where my child comes from. She puts so much time and energy into pretending to be someone else. She is super creative and fun. She loves finding the weirdest and strangest clothes and wearing them together. She can spend hours dressing and redressing. She talks about fashion and clothes to whomever will listen.

I on the other hand feel so uninspired. I watch her with envy and tell people that she gets her creativity from her dad. I feel like I am in a creative rut and am totally bored with myself.

I see so much happiness and excitement in her eyes when she gets a new "item" to put on. She plans these outfit's for every event: parties, dance class, the supermarket.

I struggle with this sometimes because I know even though I gave birth to her she seems nothing like me: creative, confident and happy.

Then I found these photos of myself. All of which I had forgotten about. It all falls into place. I need to get those creative juices flowing. I need to be a little more creative. I need to get that excitement back about something. I NEED A NEW WIG!

Me in high school, this is not a wig, this is my real hair in a beehive. The B-52's were popular I guess and I made the most of that look.
This was not Halloween. I am drinking and wearing shades, so it could have been during my "undercover" days. Steven does not believe that this is me. Compliment or not?
This was Halloween, or at least I hope it was.

The smile and happiness is the same in these photos as in Lydia's.

Needless to say at least the Wig Gene is not recessive.

How sickness effects my family

2008-03-10T17:58:00.008-04:00

Whenever anyone in my family gets sick the other family units react in a predictable manner.

For some reason I feel guilty that I didn't drive three hours to RI to take care of G.G. Mamma. Even though my five year old had a temperature of 102 degrees and received antibiotics for an ear infection, I feel like I should have put her in the car and driven three hours to help my 95 year old grandmother.

The guilt persisted all day until I recognized that the guilt is multidimensional, meaning even if I did leave I would feel guilty for dragging a sick child 150 miles. So instead I've managed to funnel all the guilt into one place and turned it into a total lack of motivation.

Steven (the father unit) always gets sick whenever anyone else in the family feels ill. He calls it "under the weather". No matter what ailments you have ear infection, menstrual cramps or sunburn, Steven will immediately begin to suffer from similar symptoms. This usually results in two days out of work and a long hot bath.

Lydia usually resorts to "baby"mode when she gets sick. She mutters things like "Da Da I need more ice cream" and "Ma Ma back rubs back rubs". She clings to her stuffed lion named "Lion" who is also "under the weather", (he's allergic to foxes and supposedly there was a fox in the house this morning).

Needless to say we're all a little sick.

Day At The Beach

2008-03-07T09:14:00.005-05:00

Oh those wonderful days in March, that just for a day you feel like spring is upon us. I took G.G. Mamma (my 95 year young grandmother) and Lydia to Conimicut point beach. This beach is always getting shut down in the summer because of "high bacteria level". It's located right at the entrance of the Providence River. It has an awesome lighthouse right off the coast. When I was Lydia's age I swam here all summer. And G.G. swam here for pretty much her entire life. In your face "high bacteria"! Good genes prevail once again!

G.G. is always up for an adventure on a sunny warm day. She is happy to finally be out and about. She hates going out in rain, snow and any form of cold weather, good thing she's lived in New England for the majority of her 95 years.

It's so nice outside that Lydia has shed her coat.

This concerns G.G. considerably.

Lydia shows no regard for this concern.

When G.G. saw this picture she said, "that's me with that crazy hat on".

And in one picture her destiny was set. Captain Lydia of the U.S. Navy reports to duty.

Overall pretty fun time. G.G. forgot that we went as soon as we got home. She was really confused by the large amount of sand that poured out of her shoes when she went to put her slippers on.

Memories for us, moments for her is our new catch phrase.

Alive at Five

2008-03-06T15:40:00.008-05:00

So the girl, my charming little cherub has turned five. Yes five! I can hardly believe it. Not only has she reached this age, but amazingly we also have been parents for five years. Count them people. Looking back at our life B.C (before child) it seems like we would never be able to get up early enough to deal with a child. Yes, there were a few years where 10:00 am was getting up early for me. And 5:00 am was always the time when I knew I had stayed up way too late. And now I have a child that is five. She is no longer technically a baby. She has now reached early childhood and there is no turning back.

I could sit here , be the proud parent, and list all her awesome , rockin' creds.

But being the parent of a five year old I feel it is more important to list a few things that I, myself has learned, (it's still all about me).

1. Yes, she may be pretty cool, but by listing her "awesome rockin' creds." I am really trying to be cool through my child. She prefers Hanna Montana to the Ramones and Cinderella to Hello Kitty no matter how hard I try. And let's be honest I've never been cool. Dorky hip, maybe. Trying hard to seem like I'm not trying at all, definitely.

2. I can have a great time with person that is not always looking for the next party. Yes, sometimes it seems like your pre-schooler is the fun and sometimes annoying friend from college that is always drunk. They fall down, take crazy risks and you can't always understand their jokes. They even dress like that old roommate wearing broken jewelry that they made themselves, mismatched layers and inappropriate shoes for the weather. But my preschooler is not drunk when we are hanging out at the local tot-lot and either am I for that matter. Hush!

3. I have made friends. Note the plural. Listen I've never been great at keeping friendships. Call me lazy or insecure I'm horrible at maintaining friendships. I've had the same bestest girlfriend since 1991, which is a testament to both of us, I think. Anyone who knows Corinne and I together recognizes that not only are we great friends but that it is truly difficult to be around the pair of us for an extended period of time. Ask any ex-boyfriend and they will give the emphatic roll of the eyes. Our current partners are too smart to answer this question.

As I've matured I've actually managed to make a few new friends, that I truly adore and who supposedly like me. And going back to #2, I can enjoy their company without a brewsky, but that's always fun too.

I'm not advocating having a child to gain emotional growth. I actually think most people do this on there own, sometime in their early twenties. I've always been a "late bloomer", so for me these milestones have been significant. I can't wait to see how mature I get when she goes to Jr. High.

I Will Survive

2008-02-16T20:10:00.002-05:00

I will survive:
Breaking down on 146 right outside the gorgeous city of Worcester on Monday morning when it was 10 degrees with my four year old child
I will survive:
Arriving at my grandmothers house and realizing that not only does she have a horrific case of the stomach flu, but that she has no recollection of having it so now there is evidence of it all over the house
I will survive:
Finding out that it will cost 5 million dollars to fix my car (well really only $2100. but what's the difference really)
I will survive:
Having to take out a loan from my family for $1400. (now I really am an indentured servant)
I will survive:
Having a horrific case of the stomach flu myself, which led me to the realization that sometimes I wish I could no longer recall events in my life

That being said here's the bright side:
I can now keep down solid food.
I get to drive around in a rental with RI plates, so no matter how bad a driver I am people just expect it.
I get my cast off my broken arm on Monday

Which brings me to my new favorite band. The Cold War Kids (check out "we used to vacation" )
They are so my new White Hassle.
For those of you who don't know I used to be totally in love with the band White Hassle which turned me on the the White Stripes and now my four year old child calls her band THE WHITE PANTS. This is unrelated.
Anyway I think this band feels my pain.

Say A Prayer For Me

2008-02-03T11:29:00.000-05:00

I know better than to diss Saints. I was brought up Catholic. Enough said, so this isn't about putting down Saints, not by any means. I've just noticed as of late that G.G. has been praying an awful lot. She's always been an avid prayer, but it's gotten a little hard core. She is 95 so it's obviously gotten her somewhere. I began to notice that she starts to pray whenever she gets in the car with me. I don't feel like she has no confidence in me and to tell you the truth I welcome the help. We are in RI after all. She also prays before she reads the newspaper, can you blame her. She prays before taking a shower, biggest household hazard. But my favorite is when she loses something. Anything. Hearing aids. Glasses. Girdle. The Butter. You've gotta get in touch with good old St. Anthony. I'm telling you this never fails. My entire family uses this favorite Saint of all things lost. You just say something like "God dammit, St. Anthony can you help me find my freakin keys." And the next thing you know your looking behind the toilet there they are. I'm telling you it's a MIRACLE.
Since St. Anthony has brought us so much success I decided to find out about some other Patron Saints. Now I wish I had known that St. Martha (?) is the patron Saint of waitresses. Where was she when I dropped that glass of red wine on the bride? Then there is St. Fiarce, the patron of venereal diseases. I mean what did that guy do to get that job. There is also a Patron Saint for brewers, schoolchildren (I don't know about homeschoolers), and grave diggers.
Now if only St. Anthony can help me find my mind?

Out To Lunch

2008-02-02T17:52:00.000-05:00

Lydia and I took G.G. out to lunch at Newport Creamary (Awful -Awful is so Wonderful - Wonderful) , for her 95th B-Day. Everything went great, Lydia and G.G. both had sugar highs and we had a nice time in public with few disruptions. G.G. was obsessed with a man sitting at an adjacent table who unfortunately had a huge strawberry nose.

"Look at that man's nose. Turn around. Just look, it's huge. There must be something wrong with him," says G.G in a booming voice that only someone who is 90% deaf would use.

"Grandma, he can hear you."

"There is a man sitting over there, and well...I think there is something wrong with his nose."

"Grandma, he can still hear you. Please stop."

Three minutes go by.

"I just noticed, there is a man over there with a huge nose. What do you think is wrong with him?"

Then as we were walking out one of my favorite G.G.isms happens: she yells out "Look at that OLD lady, don't I know her? She's two feet away from this persons table.

First of all the woman looks like she's not a day older than 68 (she could even be 45 and a heavy drinker it's hard to tell), that's a good 25 years younger than G.G. Second of all we don't know her and at this point she's offended. Then Lydia adds, "which OLD lady, this whole place is filled with old ladies."

Just another lunch with the girls.

One Week Down Another Begins

2008-01-27T12:33:00.000-05:00

For those of you who don't know, I have been spending half my week in RI for the past few months helping out my maternal Grandmother. I leave Southern Vermont at around 6:00 AM on Monday and come back to Vermont Thursday afternoon. I bring Lydia with me. The drive takes about 3 hours.

My Grandmother (G.G. Mamma) just turned 95 this week. Most people will say "she looks great for 95". Which is a very nice thing to say and I do agree with them. But honestly, anyone walking at 95 is looking great. But G.G. has a great sense of style which really accentuates her timelessness. She wears cute flared slacks with fitted geometric patterned tops. She also wears a wide assortment of costume jewelry and berets with pom poms on them. This might not sound incredibly fashion forward, but on a 95 year old it looks darn smart.

My grandmother has maintained her fashion sense, but is having a tough time remembering things like what day it is and that she just scarfed down a quart of ice cream. Well, I guess she's got her priorities straight.

To shag or not to shag?

2008-01-17T18:24:00.000-05:00

First off get your minds out of the gutter. The shag that I am contemplating could be much more regretful than even the worst last call, stumbling out of the bar, I have no clue what your name is, please don't call me, SHAG. It's the hairstyle. Worst case scenario think Mrs. Brady. Best case scenario , well I can't really think of one but these two photos don't seem too bad. I do desperately need a hair cut. The last time I had it cut I insisted on all one length. My hair is now way too long and bushy and unmanageable for someone even with two functioning arms. I'm starting to feel like birds may be nesting in there. Think Cousin It. Wish me luck this could be my first big regret of 2008.

Cabin Fever Has Set In

2008-01-16T16:51:00.000-05:00

I'm definitely starting to feel the effects of cabin fever. This is really only our second full winter in Vermont, and last year was pretty mild I guess. I don't know if it's the broken arm or what but I feel little if any desire to venture out. And Lydia is more than happy to spend her days lounging around. While she relishes in the idea of not having any schedule I'm starting to miss having to change out of my PJs. The girl manages to come up with an average of twenty costume changes a day, while I would prefer nothing better than to sit under a blanket reading. A few signs that the fever is in full force: The cat, roxy, who usually will do anything for attention has lost all interest in me. I've found a reason to bake every day (this would be fine if I wasn't only baking peanut butter cookies). I have organized above the fridge and the medicine cabinet but cannot manage to make the bed. I decided to cut Lydia's hair, which would be fine except for the fact that I know that I am horrible at cutting hair.

I almost let Lydia cut my hair for a little excitement, the fever hasn't spiked that high yet.

Thank God for my friend Allison who does her best to drag me out.

yes I'm broken

2008-01-13T18:43:00.000-05:00

I broke my left arm a week ago. The same day that I decided to start this blog. Coincidence? I'm not so sure.

I broke it sledding (which is listed as one of my favorite things to do). Not a coincidence.

The purple cast was my decision. I think it reflects my passionate side, (like Purple Passion circa 1989 two liter bottles). If you can remember this refreshing beverage you obviously didn't drink enough of it.

I had a choice of several colors.

Cobalt Blue: was my second choice, if I break anything else I'll go with this.

Hot Pink: The most glamorous person in our house would have loved this (my 4 year old daughter, Lydia). I almost got it in honor of her but as the receptionist at the orthopedist stated snottily "it would have clashed with your hair". Yeah my dye job is not looking that great. But for this to be pointed out by a middle aged woman with a frosted shag, wearing a snowman pin would have hurt less if it wasn't for the fact that I was in a fragile state, HAVING JUST BROKEN MY ARM!

Tie Dyed: Way too much of a fashion statement. In this town it would not be ironic.

Camouflage: Also wouldn't be ironic in this town. Could be a potential conversation starter with an actual hunter or someone else requiring camo. You don't want to mess with those people.

Neon Orange: See above.

Yellow, Brown, Black, all nice colors but not enough favor.

So you can see why I picked purple. It shows that I'm fashion conscious but not at all obsessed with myself.

Note: I know you don't believe me but those are not my drawings on the cast.