April 20, 2009 | Health is overrated, Offspring: ecstasy and agony

There are things in this world which I intellectually know to be true, but they remain—in my experience—sort of mythical, anyway, because I have no direct experience with them. Like… oh, I don’t know. Take THE HEARTBREAK OF PSORIASIS. (Anyone remember those commercials?) I’m sure it’s VERY heartbreaking. Anything that warrants the combination of a leading P and then an S is usually something Very Serious Indeed (see also: PSychiatry, PSilocybin, PSalms, PSeudo, and of course, PSHAW). On the other hand, I don’t know anyone who has psoriasis, so I can only imagine the heartbreak it allegedly causes. Similarly, I hear it really sucks to have your seven-figure salary revoked after screwing over the entire country, but I can only barely imagine how terrible that is. I’ll just have to try to imagine it, I guess.

Anyway! My POINT (yes, I have one, honest) is that I’ve been hearing stuff for years about antibiotic overuse and superbugs and I was all, “Yes, yes, blah blah blah, hey, my kid’s got an ear infection! GIMME SOME DRUGS!” I mean, I wasn’t one of those people who wanted an antibiotic for every sniffle, but I didn’t worry about that whole superbug thing. Before. (more…)

April 18, 2009 | Offspring: ecstasy and agony

You spent all day yesterday running up to me, leaning in until we were nose-to-nose, opening your eyes really wide and declaring, “HAPPY DAY BEFORE MY BIRTHDAY!”

But then at bedtime, you were somber again. “I don’t think ten was really a very good year,” you said, quietly. “I was in trouble a lot. I was mean a lot, especially to you. And Nightingale was mean to me. Is still mean to me.” I tried to smooth away your worry as I smoothed your hair. I talked about getting through hard stuff, new chances, forgiveness, and how your Mama always loves you, no matter what.

“But I hope 11 will be a better year,” you said, a couple of tears streaking from the corner of your eye down to your ear, as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling. “Do you think it will?” I think it will, and I told you so. I reminded you of the wonderful things from this past year. I reminded you that last year, you’d decided you didn’t want to grow up—you insisted that turning 10 was the worst thing to ever happen, and you never wanted to be big.

I reminded you that 11 is going to be the year you get your ears pierced, the year you start middle school, and the year we can share shoes. (more…)

April 16, 2009 | Detritus, It's not a regret, it's an "experience"

I’ve been thinking a lot, the last couple of weeks, about histories and futures and—most of all—the gift of the present. I still struggle every day with appreciating that last one as much as I ought to, which is pretty ironic given that I’m not not one to cling to history, either, and oftentimes thinking about the future causes me to have palpitations.

I don’t like unknowns. I like knowing what IS and what WILL BE and learning from what WAS and then moving on. You know, to the safety of what IS. Heh. Though it can be hard to fully EXPERIENCE what is when one is busy INVENTORYING it. Not that I would know anything about that. Ahem.

The emotion behind the responses to my wedding dress dilemma surprised me. I thank you all (well, okay, those of you who weren’t rude about it) for taking the time to share your points of view and explain to me what I may be missing. And it’s true, I am (was) missing some stuff, and I’m working on that. (more…)

April 15, 2009 | It's not a regret, it's an "experience", Offspring: ecstasy and agony

Boy, it’s too bad none of you had any opinions about my wedding dress. (Wait, is this a TOMATO someone threw at my head, there? C’mon, now. That would’ve been lovely on your salad, come lunchtime.)

I have to tell you that I was ready to rid myself of the wedding dress without a backwards glance; I was just unsure of the best avenue for doing do. But after 80-odd comments exhorting me to THINK OF THE CHILDREN (specifically, to think of how my daughter might consider such a thing), I made a terrible mistake. I asked Chickadee about it.

And she begged me to keep the dress. OF COURSE. I mean, I had known she would, which is why I hadn’t asked her in the first place. And I hadn’t decided not to ask her because I knew she’d want it and I’ve set my heart on being a horrible monster who disregards her feelings, but because there is NOTHING on the planet that Chickadee doesn’t want to keep. Forever. (more…)

April 14, 2009 | Detritus

I’ve been on a bit of a tear around here, lately. It’s the spring cleaning bug, dontcha know. I start out cleaning, and then I plant an entire garden, and then half of it dies in a freak frost, and then I start spending hours outside, begging tiny wilted stumps of plants to JUST GROW. When that doesn’t work, I move on to other domestic chores.

All of which is to say, I can’t really babble for all that long, today, because I’m busy baking working like I’m supposed to. Ahem.

But I’d like to conduct a little informal poll. Say you’d been living in a house for coming up on two years, and you still had three unpacked boxes in your bedroom which had been opened, pawed through, rearranged, and then disregarded for who knows how long. Would you 1) go through them again, vowing to unpack or throw away or just 2) throw away without opening? I’m curious.

Also, would you list your first-wedding gown on eBay with an appropriately snarky commentary or would you just give it to Goodwill? And how much penance is appropriate for forcing your husband to live with your old wedding gown for two years, anyway?

April 13, 2009 | Haven't been hit by lightning yet!

We bought a cow. Well, no; we bought a quarter of a cow.

I’m not willing to give up eating meat at this point in my life. I’ve cut way, way back—because of price, because of my growing unwillingness to eat meat that may be the result of less-than-natural circumstances, because both Foodie and my daughter are too willing to tell me how inhumane it is—but I still eat and enjoy meat.

If I’m going to eat it, and serve it to the meat-eating portion of my family, I want to make the commitment to eating natural/local. So when a friend called and told me that she’d located a source for local beef, I told her I was absolutely in. Sign me up! I’ll buy part of that cow!

Time passed and I sort of forgot about it. And then the emails began. “The beef is coming next week,” I was told. Then: “The beef is probably coming Wednesday.” And finally: “Definitely Saturday. He’ll call you before he delivers.” (more…)

April 12, 2009 | What do I do all day?

*dusting off hands, clearing throat*

Hot cross buns!

[rising]
(more…)

April 10, 2009 | Offspring: ecstasy and agony

Chickadee was away for a few days this week on a school trip; some extremely brave school personnel took a gaggle of 10- and 11-year-olds into the woods and lived with them there. On purpose.

Due to the whole divorce and visitation thing, I’m accustomed to the kids going away for a few days every so often. I don’t freak out about it or anything. I missed her while she was gone, and the house was quieter, and Monkey very much enjoyed his all-too-brief stint as an only child, but it was okay. All good. Though by today I was itching to have her home.

I picked her up this afternoon and I am not exaggerating when I tell you that describing her joyful demeanor as “mean as a snake” is putting it kindly. Some people do okay with sleep deprivation, and my daughter is not one of them. So she was crabby and snappy and churlish. Nice to see you, too! (more…)

April 9, 2009 | Friends

This Love Thursday, I invite you to take a deep breath, hug your children, and then go read about Madeline Spohr. Her life was too short, but her legacy is (already) a swell of love and support that restores my faith in the human race.

My thoughts are with the Spohr family, today.

April 8, 2009 | Health is overrated, Offspring: ecstasy and agony

There are things I understand about genes, and other things I don’t. Like, I understand that I can make a clover with my tongue because I have a pair of recessive genes which allow me to do so, and I also understand that I have hazel eyes because I have one BROWN eye gene and one BLUE eye gene. I understand that each of my children have half their genes in common with me, and so theoretically that means we will have many things in common. I even understand that some recessive genetic things will cause my children to be very different than I am.

But I do not understand the recessive bionic gene.

Okay; it’s probably not a gene. Or even, necessarily, a group of genes. But I still don’t understand it.

And after 9+ years of living with it, it still surprises me each and every time. (more…)