Between paying for the memorial (catering, scrapbook supplies, etc.) and the $1,000 I just dropped on my car, I'm feeling a little strapped for cash this month. Imagine my joy today to find in my mailbox the first payment out of John's school system pension, which includes catch-up payments from the date of his death.
Ahhhh . . . I deal very poorly with financial insecurity, and this was a welcome good turn from the universe.
31 August 2007
30 August 2007
I just don't know what to say about this.
By this, I mean this.
On one hand, I really admire her attitude. It's similar to the attitude John and I had: you just have to keep on living.
On the other hand, I'm listening to her interview with Ann Curry on Today, and I just can't quite get beyond this "cancer sucks, but my life is better because of it!" "I called myself a survivor from day one!" "I created a posse of 'Cancer Gals." "You can't let it define you." "I married my editor . . . it's a cancer love story."
A fucking cancer love story?
I suppose I'm just jealous that four years after getting a Stage IV, incurable, non-treatable diagnosis, she's still gorgeous and vibrant and married. That's a big part of it.
But there's something that runs deeper for me. There she is with Ann Curry, talking about how once she got her diagnosis, she started eating healthier food, being more present in the day-to-day, and not taking life for granted. I don't think that attitude is so out of the norm. She's waving her burdock root around talking about how healthy food and good friends and family are keeping her going, helping her manage her disease. Look, kids! You can get a Stage IV cancer diagnosis and hardly feel a thing! Just eat some good food and embrace life and everything will be great!
It's not that simple. John ate healthy food (although he didn't always keep it down). We could not have had a better support system. And if working every day, traveling all over the place, buying a house, having twins, and sharing a love I never thought I could feel is not embracing life, then I don't know what is. But I do know all too well that sometimes THAT'S NOT ENOUGH.
Yes, I think she has the right attitude. I also feel, though, that the reality for most people who get a similar diagnosis is not so pretty. There's an air of false hope and saccharine sentimentality to it all that I find grating. I mean, the book is touted as a "girlfriend's guide to kicking cancer tail." Come on! It's not that I want her "cancer adventure story" to have an unhappy ending. I'll just be curious to see what happens when the going gets really tough. Keeping that attitude is one thing when you're still feeling pretty good. When you feel like utter ass and your body is giving out on you, it gets a lot harder.
There's also something to her tone that implies that you are at fault if you die. You didn't do enough. You didn't take charge. Again, I know all too well that you can do everything and still come out the loser. Any implication to the contrary calls up a primal anger in me that I find hard to tame.
I suppose I'm being uncharitable. It's not nice to pick on a girl who has been told that she's going to die. And I don't feel like I've quite pinpointed what it is about all this that bugs me, other than the jealousy I feel that she's still here and John isn't.
If nothing else, Kris and I can agree on one thing: Fuck Cancer.
See lots of interesting comments on this subject over here, on I Blame the Patriarchy. (Thanks, YT, for the tip to go visit Twisty!)
On one hand, I really admire her attitude. It's similar to the attitude John and I had: you just have to keep on living.
On the other hand, I'm listening to her interview with Ann Curry on Today, and I just can't quite get beyond this "cancer sucks, but my life is better because of it!" "I called myself a survivor from day one!" "I created a posse of 'Cancer Gals." "You can't let it define you." "I married my editor . . . it's a cancer love story."
A fucking cancer love story?
I suppose I'm just jealous that four years after getting a Stage IV, incurable, non-treatable diagnosis, she's still gorgeous and vibrant and married. That's a big part of it.
But there's something that runs deeper for me. There she is with Ann Curry, talking about how once she got her diagnosis, she started eating healthier food, being more present in the day-to-day, and not taking life for granted. I don't think that attitude is so out of the norm. She's waving her burdock root around talking about how healthy food and good friends and family are keeping her going, helping her manage her disease. Look, kids! You can get a Stage IV cancer diagnosis and hardly feel a thing! Just eat some good food and embrace life and everything will be great!
It's not that simple. John ate healthy food (although he didn't always keep it down). We could not have had a better support system. And if working every day, traveling all over the place, buying a house, having twins, and sharing a love I never thought I could feel is not embracing life, then I don't know what is. But I do know all too well that sometimes THAT'S NOT ENOUGH.
Yes, I think she has the right attitude. I also feel, though, that the reality for most people who get a similar diagnosis is not so pretty. There's an air of false hope and saccharine sentimentality to it all that I find grating. I mean, the book is touted as a "girlfriend's guide to kicking cancer tail." Come on! It's not that I want her "cancer adventure story" to have an unhappy ending. I'll just be curious to see what happens when the going gets really tough. Keeping that attitude is one thing when you're still feeling pretty good. When you feel like utter ass and your body is giving out on you, it gets a lot harder.
There's also something to her tone that implies that you are at fault if you die. You didn't do enough. You didn't take charge. Again, I know all too well that you can do everything and still come out the loser. Any implication to the contrary calls up a primal anger in me that I find hard to tame.
I suppose I'm being uncharitable. It's not nice to pick on a girl who has been told that she's going to die. And I don't feel like I've quite pinpointed what it is about all this that bugs me, other than the jealousy I feel that she's still here and John isn't.
If nothing else, Kris and I can agree on one thing: Fuck Cancer.
See lots of interesting comments on this subject over here, on I Blame the Patriarchy. (Thanks, YT, for the tip to go visit Twisty!)
Annoying Tidbit, Funny Tidbit
ANNOYING
Took car (2004 model) in for 30K service yesterday. That alone set me back $500. Got a late-afternoon call letting me know that I also needed new front and rear brakes. Another $500. I'm getting my quarterly bonus on Friday. I've always dreamed of spending my bonus getting work done on my car! All my prayers have been answered.
FUNNY
When I put Riley in the car this morning, he reached for a couple of linking letters that were on the floor of the backseat. I reached down to get them for him and said, "Oh, you want those letters? There are two letters for you. What letters are they? Let's see . . . we have V, and, well, would you look at that, the other letter is D! We have VD! Fantastic!" I was more amused than Riley, that's for sure.
Took car (2004 model) in for 30K service yesterday. That alone set me back $500. Got a late-afternoon call letting me know that I also needed new front and rear brakes. Another $500. I'm getting my quarterly bonus on Friday. I've always dreamed of spending my bonus getting work done on my car! All my prayers have been answered.
FUNNY
When I put Riley in the car this morning, he reached for a couple of linking letters that were on the floor of the backseat. I reached down to get them for him and said, "Oh, you want those letters? There are two letters for you. What letters are they? Let's see . . . we have V, and, well, would you look at that, the other letter is D! We have VD! Fantastic!" I was more amused than Riley, that's for sure.
29 August 2007
Babies?
The twins are over fourteen months old now. They walk everywhere. Maddie even runs! They have quite a few words in both Spanish and English. They understand more and more of what they hear every day. They eat the same food that I eat, and they only drink from a bottle right before bed.
They really aren't babies anymore.
And yet, over the weekend, we went to a birthday party for a three-year-old. One of the guests was a little girl who is three weeks older than the twins. She, too, walks and talks and eats grown-up food. She's the same height as the twins and was interested in the same toys and activities.
But if I'd seen her out and about with her parents, I would have guessed that she was months older than Maddie and Riley.
It's so hard for me to adjust to the fact that they are so quickly moving beyond babyhood. I celebrate each step they make as they grow up, and I don't feel particularly nostalgic about leaving the baby stage behind. It's a mental disconnect. I used to be able to reliably identify babies of the twins' age when I was out and about; now I often think that kids just under a year are the same age as mine. In my mind, I stopped aging when I was around 30. For the twins, I've stopped aging them at about ten months. I wonder when I'll make the leap?
Here they are, in all their glory: Toddler Maddie and Toddler Riley.
They really aren't babies anymore.
And yet, over the weekend, we went to a birthday party for a three-year-old. One of the guests was a little girl who is three weeks older than the twins. She, too, walks and talks and eats grown-up food. She's the same height as the twins and was interested in the same toys and activities.
But if I'd seen her out and about with her parents, I would have guessed that she was months older than Maddie and Riley.
It's so hard for me to adjust to the fact that they are so quickly moving beyond babyhood. I celebrate each step they make as they grow up, and I don't feel particularly nostalgic about leaving the baby stage behind. It's a mental disconnect. I used to be able to reliably identify babies of the twins' age when I was out and about; now I often think that kids just under a year are the same age as mine. In my mind, I stopped aging when I was around 30. For the twins, I've stopped aging them at about ten months. I wonder when I'll make the leap?
Here they are, in all their glory: Toddler Maddie and Toddler Riley.
28 August 2007
Who would have wanted that?
Since John died, I find that I often say, "That's what John would have wanted."
When I'm making decisions about anything—where to have dinner, what outfit to wear, when to put the kids to bed, who to call to fix something—it makes me feel better to base the decision on what John would want.
The crazy thing about that, and this is something I know even as the words "It's what John would want" come out of my mouth, is that I often don't really know what John would want. I can make a better guess than anyone else in this world. And usually what he wanted was the same thing that I wanted, so it's a great way to justify doing whatever I want to do. Hey! John would have wanted it! Let's go for it! I feel a bit guilty using that line as a justification for anything and everything since really, it's just a guess.
What's really interesting to me is that people expect me to use the WWJD (where J = John, not Jesus) logic. At the memorial, many people said to me, "This is exactly what John would have wanted," and seemed surprised when my reply was, "I hope so; all I know for sure is that it felt like the right way to honor him." Despite the fact that I regularly call upon the WWJD reasoning, it makes me uncomfortable and feel somehow like a fraud.
I wish I knew exactly what John wanted. I wish he was here to ask. All I know for sure is that John wants me to be loved, to get enough rest and to eat good food, to take care of myself, to not be stressed out, to be surrounded by friends and family. To be happy, that's what he wants for me and the twins. He always worried that I was spread too thin. The best way I can honor him is by asking for and accepting help, by taking care of myself and our children, and by treating myself with kindness and love. That's the way he always treated me, and I am not always so good to myself.
When I'm making decisions about anything—where to have dinner, what outfit to wear, when to put the kids to bed, who to call to fix something—it makes me feel better to base the decision on what John would want.
The crazy thing about that, and this is something I know even as the words "It's what John would want" come out of my mouth, is that I often don't really know what John would want. I can make a better guess than anyone else in this world. And usually what he wanted was the same thing that I wanted, so it's a great way to justify doing whatever I want to do. Hey! John would have wanted it! Let's go for it! I feel a bit guilty using that line as a justification for anything and everything since really, it's just a guess.
What's really interesting to me is that people expect me to use the WWJD (where J = John, not Jesus) logic. At the memorial, many people said to me, "This is exactly what John would have wanted," and seemed surprised when my reply was, "I hope so; all I know for sure is that it felt like the right way to honor him." Despite the fact that I regularly call upon the WWJD reasoning, it makes me uncomfortable and feel somehow like a fraud.
I wish I knew exactly what John wanted. I wish he was here to ask. All I know for sure is that John wants me to be loved, to get enough rest and to eat good food, to take care of myself, to not be stressed out, to be surrounded by friends and family. To be happy, that's what he wants for me and the twins. He always worried that I was spread too thin. The best way I can honor him is by asking for and accepting help, by taking care of myself and our children, and by treating myself with kindness and love. That's the way he always treated me, and I am not always so good to myself.
27 August 2007
Quick Query for Parents
Update below, but I have a quick question for parents out there who have kids in daycare.
The twins spent one night with their daycare provider last week. She was reluctant to name a price for this service and asked me to pay her what I felt was fair. Here's how I determined what I paid her:
The twins spent one night with their daycare provider last week. She was reluctant to name a price for this service and asked me to pay her what I felt was fair. Here's how I determined what I paid her:
- regular hourly rate for the extra hours the twins were there and awake
- half the regular hourly rate for the hours the twins were sleeping (They usually do and did sleep through the night.)
How has it been almost a week?
I have not posted for almost a week! I can't believe it.
Guess what? I've been busy. My mom and stepdad were here until Wednesday after the memorial, then bright and early Thursday morning I headed up to Maine for a training for work. The kids stayed overnight at daycare (or, as I grandiosely call it, school). I picked them up on Friday afternoon, then my best friend came over and spent the whole weekend at my house. Her husband was away with their son, and she very generously decided to spend that time hanging out with me and the kids. She and I had not gotten that much time together in ages, and it was great to have her company and help.
I have to engage in some shameless bragging about my kids, because they have just been incredibly fun lately. I feel like I'm getting rewarded for the hard times of a few weeks ago. Here are some highlights (I'll try to add pictures to go with some of these, although I've been so bad about taking pictures lately.)
Guess what? I've been busy. My mom and stepdad were here until Wednesday after the memorial, then bright and early Thursday morning I headed up to Maine for a training for work. The kids stayed overnight at daycare (or, as I grandiosely call it, school). I picked them up on Friday afternoon, then my best friend came over and spent the whole weekend at my house. Her husband was away with their son, and she very generously decided to spend that time hanging out with me and the kids. She and I had not gotten that much time together in ages, and it was great to have her company and help.
I have to engage in some shameless bragging about my kids, because they have just been incredibly fun lately. I feel like I'm getting rewarded for the hard times of a few weeks ago. Here are some highlights (I'll try to add pictures to go with some of these, although I've been so bad about taking pictures lately.)
- When I called on Friday morning to check on the twins after their overnight at school, their daycare provider (R.) put me on speakerphone. I said, "Hi, babies, it's Mama." They both said, "Mama! Mama!" and R. said that they were dancing around with excitement. For the rest of the day, when the phone rang, they would say, "Mama? Mama?"
- Riley eating McDonald's fries in his carseat. He was grinning from ear to ear. I've never seen a fourteen-month-old savor food before, but he would take a bite of fry, say, "Mmmmmm," and then slowly chew it while smiling the whole time. Meanwhile, he stashed extra fries next to him in the carseat for later. He was in a fantastic mood all day after those fries.
- Making the transition from two naps to one. So far, so good on that. I'd been stressing about it, but last week R. only gave them one nap at school, so I followed suit this weekend. They took relatively long naps both days (2-ish hours) and, to my surprise, seemed to be in better moods during the day with this schedule. They also slept better at night. Go, Maddie and Riley!
- Watching them splash around at at a local water park. It's one of those neighborhood places where sprays of water shoot up out of the ground. They were afraid of the jets of water, but liked to splash in the collected water on the ground. Maddie wanted to be everyone's friend, which was so cute to watch. Riley is more of a lone wolf.
- Cake and ice cream at a friend's three-year-old's b-day party. I was sitting on the lawn with the plate of cake, and the twins were playing with the other kids. They'd come toddling over every so often for a bite of cake, mouths wide open on the approach, baby bird-like. Mmmmm.
21 August 2007
The Memorial
Everything went very well on Saturday, exactly as I had hoped. We had perfect weather (70s, sunny), a gorgeous setting, delicious food, and an abundance of friends and family. People played games, made scrapbook pages, and talked about John. I only wish that I had had more time to spend with each individual person who was there. To make a somewhat morbid comparison, I found being at my husband's memorial somewhat akin to being at our wedding in one—and ONLY one—key way: I wanted to spend a lot of time with each person there, but in reality I got only a few minutes with each one.
There were two moments for me that were very hard emotionally. John's oncologist came, and talking to her was very difficult. I was incredibly moved by how much caring for John had touched her. She is not an overly emotional woman. Caring, compassionate: yes. Prone to outward displays of emotion—positive or negative: not so much. But when she gave me a hug and talked to me and my mom about what an honor it was for her to care for John, she was teary. Which made me teary. Which is fine, but believe it or not, I forgot to bring tissues to the memorial! Talk about a faux pas.
The other difficult bit was the candle lighting. I had, somewhat deliberately, not given much thought to the logistics behind the ceremony or to what I'd say to the assembled crowd. In the end, I placed John's candle in the middle of the outdoor picnic shelter, and had the group form a big circle around it. I lit the main candle, lit a taper from it, and used that taper to light my mom's and John's dad's tapers. They then sent the flame around the circle in opposite directions. Once everyone's candle was lit, we had some moments of silence, broken by Riley deciding to burst into belly laughs when I snuggled him a bit too much. It was a good way to end the silence. The reflection during the quiet time did lead to some tears. Again, no tissues! What was I thinking.
It's a bit strange to say, but I really had a lovely time at the memorial. I'm glad it's over, though. Since the event, I have slept better and felt more at peace. I guess that's what's meant by the word closure.
*********************************
Thank you to everyone who lit candles for John and sent good thoughts our way. OTRgirl posted about her tribute to John and her mother. I'm beyond honored by her what she did, her beautiful, private ceremony replete with symbolism.
There were two moments for me that were very hard emotionally. John's oncologist came, and talking to her was very difficult. I was incredibly moved by how much caring for John had touched her. She is not an overly emotional woman. Caring, compassionate: yes. Prone to outward displays of emotion—positive or negative: not so much. But when she gave me a hug and talked to me and my mom about what an honor it was for her to care for John, she was teary. Which made me teary. Which is fine, but believe it or not, I forgot to bring tissues to the memorial! Talk about a faux pas.
The other difficult bit was the candle lighting. I had, somewhat deliberately, not given much thought to the logistics behind the ceremony or to what I'd say to the assembled crowd. In the end, I placed John's candle in the middle of the outdoor picnic shelter, and had the group form a big circle around it. I lit the main candle, lit a taper from it, and used that taper to light my mom's and John's dad's tapers. They then sent the flame around the circle in opposite directions. Once everyone's candle was lit, we had some moments of silence, broken by Riley deciding to burst into belly laughs when I snuggled him a bit too much. It was a good way to end the silence. The reflection during the quiet time did lead to some tears. Again, no tissues! What was I thinking.
It's a bit strange to say, but I really had a lovely time at the memorial. I'm glad it's over, though. Since the event, I have slept better and felt more at peace. I guess that's what's meant by the word closure.
*********************************
Thank you to everyone who lit candles for John and sent good thoughts our way. OTRgirl posted about her tribute to John and her mother. I'm beyond honored by her what she did, her beautiful, private ceremony replete with symbolism.
18 August 2007
Remembering John
Today is the memorial. I've been quite busy getting ready, and clearly my mind has been busy, too, as I've had a horrible time sleeping this week.
I'm looking forward to this afternoon, but I'm also looking forward to it being over.
I know that many (most) of you who read this blog don't know me in real life and didn't know John, but if you'd like to be a virtual presence at the memorial, here is what you can do. We'll be having a candle-lighting ceremony at 6:30 p.m. EST (or so). Light a candle along with us, if you'd like, and spend a few minutes of quiet reflection.
I'll post about the memorial next week.
I'm looking forward to this afternoon, but I'm also looking forward to it being over.
I know that many (most) of you who read this blog don't know me in real life and didn't know John, but if you'd like to be a virtual presence at the memorial, here is what you can do. We'll be having a candle-lighting ceremony at 6:30 p.m. EST (or so). Light a candle along with us, if you'd like, and spend a few minutes of quiet reflection.
I'll post about the memorial next week.
15 August 2007
UPDATED: The Tattoo
No, I have not gotten it yet, but here's an image of what I'm considering. I'm pretty sure I'm going to go ahead and do it; I'm researching places to get it done and still deciding where on my body it should go. Right now I'm leaning towards the inside of my left ankle. I think the tattoo will be about the size of a quarter.
UPDATE: Quite a few people have asked about the design and where it came from. My best friend's brother is a graphic designer, and he created this logo for John and I to use on our wedding invitations. He did an amazing job of being creative and classy, especially given that his only directions were that we wanted something Asian-inspired that included geese. We used this design on all print materials for our wedding: invites, reply cards, programs, signs, tags on gift bags . . . it was a perfect unifying theme. And, as it would happen, I think it will make the perfect tattoo.
14 August 2007
Happy Anniversary, Goose
In honor of our third anniversary, a picture of us before cancer was a part of our lives. This is from before we even lived together, but both of us knew by the time this picture was taken that we were going to get married.
We had been mini-golfing with friends on a gorgeous summer day. I love this picture because it shows us being so happy doing what we loved to do most: spend time together, time with friends, and time outdoors.
Happy third anniversary to my Goose Love. I wish you were here with me and the twins. We miss you and we love you.
13 August 2007
My mind, where did you go?
Conversation with my dad today, in the car on the way to pick up the twins*:
Father: I've been thinking about you a lot this week, wondering how you're feeling about tomorrow.
Me: Um . . . tomorrow?
Father: Since it's a significant date and all.
Me: Um . . . [Throw me a bone!] . . . [But John died on the 11th; two days ago was a significant date!] . . . Well, I've been really busy.
Father: I know you planned the memorial for right around your anniversary for a number of reasons, and I just wanted to know how you were feeling about all that.
Me: [Shit! I forgot my anniversary!] I wanted to have the memorial around my anniversary so that I'd be with friends during a rough time. Thing is, I've been so busy that I forgot it was our anniversary!
*****************************
I cried the whole way home after that. I'm so preoccupied lately that the four-month anniversary of John's death went by in a blur of BBQs and barfy babies and exhaustion. Now I forgot our third anniversary. To be fair, we weren't real anniversary celebrators; a nice meal together was the most we did. But still.
I miss John all the time. But at the same time, I don't have much time to think about missing John. It's a paradox, but true. I have so much on my mind dealing with the day to day that the big picture passes me by sometimes. I feel guilty, like I don't do enough to honor John's memory by remembering the dates. I mean, his ashes are still in the world's ugliest brown plastic box on our bookshelves even though it's my intention to find something more meaningful and, well, honorable. I have heard myself call our bedroom my bedroom, my room, which technically it is, but when did I start thinking of it that way? How?
We went on our first date on April 5, 2003. John died on April 11, 2007. Four years. We got four years. Tomorrow, three years of marriage. It may be my bedroom now, but I certainly still think of myself as married. That thinking is not going to change for a long, long time.
*Twins were back to their crabby ways tonight. They ate much better, which was great, but then cried and cried until bedtime. Then Riley sobbed after I put him to bed. He hasn't done that in MONTHS. He calmed right down when I went back in and resettled him, but I felt so bad for them. Poor tired babies.
Father: I've been thinking about you a lot this week, wondering how you're feeling about tomorrow.
Me: Um . . . tomorrow?
Father: Since it's a significant date and all.
Me: Um . . . [Throw me a bone!] . . . [But John died on the 11th; two days ago was a significant date!] . . . Well, I've been really busy.
Father: I know you planned the memorial for right around your anniversary for a number of reasons, and I just wanted to know how you were feeling about all that.
Me: [Shit! I forgot my anniversary!] I wanted to have the memorial around my anniversary so that I'd be with friends during a rough time. Thing is, I've been so busy that I forgot it was our anniversary!
*****************************
I cried the whole way home after that. I'm so preoccupied lately that the four-month anniversary of John's death went by in a blur of BBQs and barfy babies and exhaustion. Now I forgot our third anniversary. To be fair, we weren't real anniversary celebrators; a nice meal together was the most we did. But still.
I miss John all the time. But at the same time, I don't have much time to think about missing John. It's a paradox, but true. I have so much on my mind dealing with the day to day that the big picture passes me by sometimes. I feel guilty, like I don't do enough to honor John's memory by remembering the dates. I mean, his ashes are still in the world's ugliest brown plastic box on our bookshelves even though it's my intention to find something more meaningful and, well, honorable. I have heard myself call our bedroom my bedroom, my room, which technically it is, but when did I start thinking of it that way? How?
We went on our first date on April 5, 2003. John died on April 11, 2007. Four years. We got four years. Tomorrow, three years of marriage. It may be my bedroom now, but I certainly still think of myself as married. That thinking is not going to change for a long, long time.
*Twins were back to their crabby ways tonight. They ate much better, which was great, but then cried and cried until bedtime. Then Riley sobbed after I put him to bed. He hasn't done that in MONTHS. He calmed right down when I went back in and resettled him, but I felt so bad for them. Poor tired babies.
Slowly, Slowly
We made it through the weekend. Things improved steadily after Friday. It would be tempting fate to ask how they could have gotten worse, so I'm not going to go there.
Riley was still not himself on Saturday: crabby, lethargic. He ate, but not much. I now think that he must have had a bug. We went to a BBQ on Saturday afternoon and I thought he was doing a bit better as he stuffed himself with cantaloupe and bread . . . only to puke it all back up minutes later. Poor man. That was no fun. Luckily, Maddie was a peach and seemed to be feeling a-OK.
But Sunday was a huge improvement. We had brunch with friends and Riley ate four silver-dollar sized pancakes with jam and whipped cream, a big dish of watermelon, and an egg. Yikes! Same for Maddie. They were both much more themselves temperament-wise, too. It was nice to see. I hope they are in reasonably good moods after daycare today, but I'll take "not barfing" to mean "reasonably good."
****************************************
I'm making progress on John's memorial. Today I really need to call the caterer. Last night I went through a box of John's that was full of doubles of photos from college and beyond and sorted them into three piles: friends, work, and family. I'm going to give the family ones to his, um, family (my logic is impeccable!), and bring the work and friends ones to the memorial for people to look through and help themselves.
I did find a few photos in there of us, some from when we were engaged, before cancer. It's hard for me to remember how happy I felt. When John first got sick, I remember feeling punished, like I was due for something awful because no one deserved to be as happy as I felt in those months leading up to our wedding. I know that's not true, but a nagging part of me did feel that way, as though that kind of joy can't be sustained, pride goeth before a fall.
Rationally I can expect that someday I will feel that kind of happiness again. But it will never again be with John, and that sucks.
****************************************
My dad is doing much better after his accident, and is home safe in Oregon. He will not be able to make the memorial, which makes both of us sad. I'm sure he will come visit as soon as his doctor clears him to fly, so that's something to look forward to this fall.
****************************************
John's parents and my brother- and sister-in-law arrive on Friday, around lunchtime. My mom and stepdad get here Friday night, around 10:00 p.m. Hopefully my in-laws (or some subset of them) can hang around at the house with the sleeping babes while I go get my mom and stepdad at the airport.
Friday afternoon will be crazy with my in-laws here and the babies at daycare. Maybe we'll pick up the babies early so that my inlaws can play with them while I get some alone time. I told my mom that I'm going to go out to breakfast on Saturday morning while she, my stepdad, and my inlaws hang with the kids. I think she thought I was joking. Mom? (She reads my blog.) I'm only half-joking!
For now, I'm off to call the caterer.
Riley was still not himself on Saturday: crabby, lethargic. He ate, but not much. I now think that he must have had a bug. We went to a BBQ on Saturday afternoon and I thought he was doing a bit better as he stuffed himself with cantaloupe and bread . . . only to puke it all back up minutes later. Poor man. That was no fun. Luckily, Maddie was a peach and seemed to be feeling a-OK.
But Sunday was a huge improvement. We had brunch with friends and Riley ate four silver-dollar sized pancakes with jam and whipped cream, a big dish of watermelon, and an egg. Yikes! Same for Maddie. They were both much more themselves temperament-wise, too. It was nice to see. I hope they are in reasonably good moods after daycare today, but I'll take "not barfing" to mean "reasonably good."
****************************************
I'm making progress on John's memorial. Today I really need to call the caterer. Last night I went through a box of John's that was full of doubles of photos from college and beyond and sorted them into three piles: friends, work, and family. I'm going to give the family ones to his, um, family (my logic is impeccable!), and bring the work and friends ones to the memorial for people to look through and help themselves.
I did find a few photos in there of us, some from when we were engaged, before cancer. It's hard for me to remember how happy I felt. When John first got sick, I remember feeling punished, like I was due for something awful because no one deserved to be as happy as I felt in those months leading up to our wedding. I know that's not true, but a nagging part of me did feel that way, as though that kind of joy can't be sustained, pride goeth before a fall.
Rationally I can expect that someday I will feel that kind of happiness again. But it will never again be with John, and that sucks.
****************************************
My dad is doing much better after his accident, and is home safe in Oregon. He will not be able to make the memorial, which makes both of us sad. I'm sure he will come visit as soon as his doctor clears him to fly, so that's something to look forward to this fall.
****************************************
John's parents and my brother- and sister-in-law arrive on Friday, around lunchtime. My mom and stepdad get here Friday night, around 10:00 p.m. Hopefully my in-laws (or some subset of them) can hang around at the house with the sleeping babes while I go get my mom and stepdad at the airport.
Friday afternoon will be crazy with my in-laws here and the babies at daycare. Maybe we'll pick up the babies early so that my inlaws can play with them while I get some alone time. I told my mom that I'm going to go out to breakfast on Saturday morning while she, my stepdad, and my inlaws hang with the kids. I think she thought I was joking. Mom? (She reads my blog.) I'm only half-joking!
For now, I'm off to call the caterer.
10 August 2007
Broken Record, Redux
Picked up the kids from daycare. They were cranky. Nothing new.
Got home, played a bit, went in the kitchen for dinner.
I sat them in their high chairs, and the whining began. The food flinging began. It was all exacerbated by the arrival of two friends who came to babysit so that I could go to the movies with other friends. Tired, cranky Maddie and Riley gave my friends nervous, shifty looks between tosses of food onto the floor.
I sent my friends to the living room and managed to coax both kids into eating some fruit. I went to get a rag to wipe hands and let the kids out of their high chairs when bllargh, Riley barfed up his whole dinner.
This scared him. Who can blame him? So he started to scream.
Which scared Maddie. So she started to scream.
My friends came in to help. I'd set Riley down so that I could pull Maddie out of her chair. I got her out. Riley was clinging to my leg. Bllarrgh, Maddie barfed what seems like days worth of food all over me. It dripped onto Riley's head.
I got us all into the bathroom. Clothes off, into the tub with the babies. Barf all over the bathroom. Babies still screaming.
My friends cleaned up the kitchen. Thank goodness for friends.
I got the babies "clean." Cleaner, at least, and diapered, and into their pajamas.
They ate some Cheerios. And drank some milk. And went right to bed.
Poor babies, poor us. It was really quite awful.
**************************************
I was supposed to go see Bourne Ultimatum tonight. That did not work out. I did meet my friends out for dinner instead, which was nice, although I had to do a lot of crying before I could go into the restaurant.
I hope the babies sleep OK tonight. I'm now physically as well as mentally tired. I don't think the babies are actually sick; maybe Riley is teething? And Maddie just cried so hard she threw up. Poor thing.
Things are hard right now. I keep trying to figure out what I'm learning from this. So far, I just don't know. If my lesson is that sometimes life deals you a bad hand, I get it. If the lesson is that I am strong, I get it. If it's that no matter what, I'll get through this, check, got it. If it's that babies will be babies and it's just a phase, I get that, too. But I hope this phase is over soon.
Got home, played a bit, went in the kitchen for dinner.
I sat them in their high chairs, and the whining began. The food flinging began. It was all exacerbated by the arrival of two friends who came to babysit so that I could go to the movies with other friends. Tired, cranky Maddie and Riley gave my friends nervous, shifty looks between tosses of food onto the floor.
I sent my friends to the living room and managed to coax both kids into eating some fruit. I went to get a rag to wipe hands and let the kids out of their high chairs when bllargh, Riley barfed up his whole dinner.
This scared him. Who can blame him? So he started to scream.
Which scared Maddie. So she started to scream.
My friends came in to help. I'd set Riley down so that I could pull Maddie out of her chair. I got her out. Riley was clinging to my leg. Bllarrgh, Maddie barfed what seems like days worth of food all over me. It dripped onto Riley's head.
I got us all into the bathroom. Clothes off, into the tub with the babies. Barf all over the bathroom. Babies still screaming.
My friends cleaned up the kitchen. Thank goodness for friends.
I got the babies "clean." Cleaner, at least, and diapered, and into their pajamas.
They ate some Cheerios. And drank some milk. And went right to bed.
Poor babies, poor us. It was really quite awful.
**************************************
I was supposed to go see Bourne Ultimatum tonight. That did not work out. I did meet my friends out for dinner instead, which was nice, although I had to do a lot of crying before I could go into the restaurant.
I hope the babies sleep OK tonight. I'm now physically as well as mentally tired. I don't think the babies are actually sick; maybe Riley is teething? And Maddie just cried so hard she threw up. Poor thing.
Things are hard right now. I keep trying to figure out what I'm learning from this. So far, I just don't know. If my lesson is that sometimes life deals you a bad hand, I get it. If the lesson is that I am strong, I get it. If it's that no matter what, I'll get through this, check, got it. If it's that babies will be babies and it's just a phase, I get that, too. But I hope this phase is over soon.
Broken Record
I haven't posted for a few days because every time I go to post, I realize it's just the same ol', same ol' yet again.
The kids seem to be in a cranky phase and are worse than ever about eating.
I'm tired.
Work has actually been OK, but it's still work.
Planning John's memorial is taking a lot out of me.
Riley said dog the other day. He also put two words together and said, "Bye bye, baby!" when we were leaving daycare.
Maddie has an awful diaper rash. The only thing that is helping is oatmeal baths in the kitchen sink. She finds the novelty of being in the sink very entertaining.
See? Not so interesting. Well, the kid stuff is interesting to me, but I'm not sure how interesting it is to the outside world. I'm tired of not feeling interesting. I'm tired of feeling like a downer. I'm tired, damn it. Mentally tired. Physically, I actually feel fine.
I made myself a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch today. It's overcast and cool today, only in the mid-60s, so something warm sounded good. When I was pregnant, I ate a lot of grilled cheese. John made great grilled cheese. At the end of grilling, he would sprinkle a bit of grated cheese in the pan that would make a toasty, caramelized, cheesy crust on one side of the bread MMM. Delicious. My sandwich was good, but his would have been better.
The kids seem to be in a cranky phase and are worse than ever about eating.
I'm tired.
Work has actually been OK, but it's still work.
Planning John's memorial is taking a lot out of me.
Riley said dog the other day. He also put two words together and said, "Bye bye, baby!" when we were leaving daycare.
Maddie has an awful diaper rash. The only thing that is helping is oatmeal baths in the kitchen sink. She finds the novelty of being in the sink very entertaining.
See? Not so interesting. Well, the kid stuff is interesting to me, but I'm not sure how interesting it is to the outside world. I'm tired of not feeling interesting. I'm tired of feeling like a downer. I'm tired, damn it. Mentally tired. Physically, I actually feel fine.
I made myself a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch today. It's overcast and cool today, only in the mid-60s, so something warm sounded good. When I was pregnant, I ate a lot of grilled cheese. John made great grilled cheese. At the end of grilling, he would sprinkle a bit of grated cheese in the pan that would make a toasty, caramelized, cheesy crust on one side of the bread MMM. Delicious. My sandwich was good, but his would have been better.
07 August 2007
As is so often the case, I have no idea how to handle this.
In many ways, I'm settling into my role as a single mom. For the most part, Maddie, Riley, and I have a good rhythm. The only thing—and I mean the absolute, only thing—that seems somewhat easier as a single parent is that when it comes to decisions about discipline, schedules, etc., I don't have to consult with anyone else. Of course, the flip side is that I don't have a partner as a resource or comfort with the hard stuff. But sometimes it can be nice to make unilateral decisions and just move on. Hardly worth the tradeoff, but I have to find some good somewhere or I just can't bear it.
Rachel wrote a lovely post about her hapa daughter Bella's early queries about race. It brought up a lot of fears for me. There are many, many things that I don't know how I will handle as my kids get older. For the most part, I figure we'll deal with things as they come, issues big and small that start in toddlerhood and never end: potty training, the transition to big-kid beds, questions about where Daddy is, when it's OK to see an R-rated movie, where babies come from, questions about sex. One issue I do feel that I need to spend some time thinking about is that of race, and this is one where I acutely miss John.
I can figure out how to talk to my kids about most issues, but race is a tough one. This is an issue on which I wanted to play the supporting role. With John gone, so is Maddie and Riley's immediate link to their Korean heritage. My relationship with my grandparents, the obvious remaining connection, is fragile. My sister- and brother-in-law are good resources that I will draw on, but geography and time prevent us from seeing a lot of each other.
Of course I can read the kids books about Korean culture, cook Korean food, and teach them the few Korean words I know. I will certainly do everything I can to teach tolerance and respect for people of all races, but I would do that no matter what their ethnic background was. I just wish that their direct line to growing up Asian in the U.S. was not gone. I can only make informed speculation on what that's like. I will do my best, but I know their father would have done better.
It's just one of the many, many reasons that I miss my husband. It's not that I can't get by without him, it's just that life was so much better with him in it.
Rachel wrote a lovely post about her hapa daughter Bella's early queries about race. It brought up a lot of fears for me. There are many, many things that I don't know how I will handle as my kids get older. For the most part, I figure we'll deal with things as they come, issues big and small that start in toddlerhood and never end: potty training, the transition to big-kid beds, questions about where Daddy is, when it's OK to see an R-rated movie, where babies come from, questions about sex. One issue I do feel that I need to spend some time thinking about is that of race, and this is one where I acutely miss John.
I can figure out how to talk to my kids about most issues, but race is a tough one. This is an issue on which I wanted to play the supporting role. With John gone, so is Maddie and Riley's immediate link to their Korean heritage. My relationship with my grandparents, the obvious remaining connection, is fragile. My sister- and brother-in-law are good resources that I will draw on, but geography and time prevent us from seeing a lot of each other.
Of course I can read the kids books about Korean culture, cook Korean food, and teach them the few Korean words I know. I will certainly do everything I can to teach tolerance and respect for people of all races, but I would do that no matter what their ethnic background was. I just wish that their direct line to growing up Asian in the U.S. was not gone. I can only make informed speculation on what that's like. I will do my best, but I know their father would have done better.
It's just one of the many, many reasons that I miss my husband. It's not that I can't get by without him, it's just that life was so much better with him in it.
02 August 2007
ESFJ
I've always wondered about my personality type. Evidently, I am an ESFJ.
[from the site]
None of this is inaccurate. I do love to host people at my home, and I have a healthy respect of rules. And I am responsible. Some of the questions on the quiz were tough, though. Would I rather spend a free at home by myself or in the company of friends? Well, I enjoy both, it just depends on what kind of week I've had.
ESFJ seems to be code for "professional enabler." I have always struggled with enabling. Guess I might not be over it yet! (Not that I think an online survey is the be all, end all of diagnosing my personality type, mind you.)
[from the site]
ESFJ: The Supporter
ESFJs are social butterflies that value relationships, supporting and nurturing others. Never one to shy away from social events, they are often the host. They are great encouragers of teamwork. ESFJs are responsible, dutiful, observe traditions and follow rules. ESFJs have a deep concern for others and often end up as caretakers. They are sensitive to criticism and have a need to be appreciated for the good they do for others. ESFJs are understanding, generous, have a quick wit and a knack for composition and beautification.
None of this is inaccurate. I do love to host people at my home, and I have a healthy respect of rules. And I am responsible. Some of the questions on the quiz were tough, though. Would I rather spend a free at home by myself or in the company of friends? Well, I enjoy both, it just depends on what kind of week I've had.
ESFJ seems to be code for "professional enabler." I have always struggled with enabling. Guess I might not be over it yet! (Not that I think an online survey is the be all, end all of diagnosing my personality type, mind you.)
01 August 2007
Rockin'?
Many moons ago, Halfmama dubbed me a Rockin' Blogger. (Someone else gave me the nod, too, and I can't remember who it was because as my last post indicated, I'm crazy like a fox. Remind me who you were and I will link to you here!) That Halfmama is very, very kind to me. I don't feel so rockin' these days. Well, actually, I do feel pretty rockin' on many days, but I feel that way just for getting through the day. Seems like I should do more than that to be truly rockin', but why don't I just shut up now and say, "Thank you, Halfmama! You make a girl feel gooooood!"As a token of my rockin'-ness, I am to offer up five random thoughts on feminism. Here goes nothin':
1. I get sick of people saying to me, "Oh, you have boy/girl twins, it's a perfect way to study nature/nurture and gender differences since you are raising them in exactly the same way!" OK, maybe, yeah. But I don't think it's an excuse to label the differences between Maddie and Riley as gender-based. Two is a really small sample, people! Just because Maddie happens to be more verbal does not mean that girls are more verbal as a whole! Just because Maddie likes to give Elmo a bottle and Riley likes to throw Elmo on the ground and stomp on him does not mean that girls like to be little mommies and boys don't know how to show the love. (So that's not really about feminism, but it's about gender equality/inequality, and that will have to do.)
2. I think my husband was more of a feminist than me. As he always said, "I'm a counselor. I'm practically a chick!" He was very sensitive to gender issues. I hope I can pass the same awareness on to my kids.
3. When I lived in Africa, I worked on a project that involved getting some books printed in Gabon's capital city, Libreville. I had to find a printer that was willing to print the books at a reduced cost. How did I accomplish this? I left my (male) Gabonese counterpart at the office, got very dressed up, wore a low-cut shirt, and used my feminine wiles. No, no, no, I didn't sleep my way into a deal or anything, but I did charm my way into a deal on the printing costs with a bunch of sleazy men. Shameful? Maybe. But I can tell you right now that my colleague would not have gotten such a good deal, and I would never have gotten the deal I got by playing hardball. Not sure what all that means, but it was an interesting exercise.
4. I wish I was comfortable enough as a woman and as myself to not shave my legs. But man, I am a hairy girl and in the summer when I wear skirts I just can't stand how it looks not to shave.
5. Ultimately, I don't put much stock in gender differences. They should just not be a factor in things like career choices and how people are treated in the workplace. Of course, they are, but they shouldn't be. It just shouldn't be so hard. Why can't we all just get along?! Heh.
BONUS SIXTH ITEM!
6. It bugs the crap out of me that professional orchestras are still very male-dominated even though my own involvement in youth music programs leads me to believe that women are equally if not predominately represented at the amateur level. There are lots of professional flute players who are male, but not so many guys who play flute in high-school band or orchestra. What's going on? Is it the competitive nature of professional music that for some reason weeds out women? I find it curious, and troubling. How many female conductors do you see? Not many. And female composers? They are out there, but they are not getting the commissions that men are. I fail to think this is because their music sucks.
I will pass the Rockin' Blogger badge on to the following: Rachel at Kitchen Fire, OTRgirl at Sojournering, Emmie at Better Make It a Double, Lisa at A Letter to My Children, and Buddha Girl at Buddha Girl's World. If you have the time and inclination, share your thoughts. No matter what you say, you ROCK.
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