This morning we're doing a little digging in the dirt. I'm re-sorting yesterday's feelings (and lack thereof), thinking about the different funerals and burials I've attended in my lifetime. I also started thinking of tv and movie burials, and decided that my favorite fake burial happened in Six Feet Under when Nate took Lisa's body, buried it in the ground in the middle of nowhere, and gave her family someone else's ashes. D'oh!
What we're burying this morning is decidedly more innocent. Starters for some flowers and herbs. Livi was adorable, calling out "Boop!" as she poked each sunflower seed under the soil. We also did moonflowers and green beans. The lemon balm seeds went untouched, but I'll remedy that tomorrow. Must have the lemon balm. Doing simple things with my kids always makes me happy. It's so important to teach them that happiness doesn't come from the mall, but rather from family and friends and living a life that is real and kind and generous.
***
Breaking news, the phone just rang. It was a call from my sister. I couldn't pick up. Not just because I hate talking on the phone... I just know the news and don't want to hear it firsthand. She wouldn't be calling for no good or bad reason. It could be a glaring sign of immaturity on my part, or possibly an almost complete disconnection. My two sisters on my dad's side are actually amazing people, and they understand me quite well whether they realize it or not. And, really, I only use the word 'immaturity' because I just happen to be the youngest of all my siblings, and in my mind that's how they would categorize it.
***
Going back to semi-reality, I'm not ashamed to tell you my lunch today consisted of a slight amount of actual lunch, followed by two cocktails. Don't worry, I'm not home alone with the kids. And I'm not above dulling the pain. I'm in a weird spot. I wish I had my husband with me, and I am just one of those people who need their own space. If not physically, then mentally. In times of troubled thoughts, I take achievement where it can be found; I'm done contemplating and I need a complete zone-out. Clean the slate. Take out the trash. And so on, and so on, and such.
Wednesday, March 24
Tuesday, March 23
Some feelings. Nothing more, nothing less.
I just got off the phone with one of my sisters, and it turns out my one remaining grandparent is on her deathbed. Ask me if I can make sense of that.
Nope. Not really.
I haven't seen Sophie in 24 years. I remember her face, but I doubt she would recognize me. I'm sitting here thinking, and there isn't much about her that makes any sense. When I was a kid, she and my grandfather all but blamed my mom for the massive stroke that killed my dad. One encounter at one of my sisters' weddings, one birthday phone call, and a couple of decades later I'm here shaking my head. And my fist, a little. Not that I ever lacked family, what with three sisters, a brother, aunties, uncles, nieces, nephews, and a gazillion cousins. Obviously I've never had to spend Christmas alone. The thing that gets me now is the backward view. Looking through my memories and not finding any of Grandmom with my husband or my kids (not for lack of a brief effort on my part)... no pictures of her at my college graduation or my wedding.
There's no rule stating you have to love someone just because you are partly the same person. What I'm confused about now, though, is whether or not I feel anything at all. I don't hold it against her that she didn't seem to care much about what was happening with one of her six grandchildren. By the time I realized I should have been hurt, I was old enough to know that pinning your pain on someone else gets you nowhere. Am I a little jealous? Yeah, maybe. Am I a little sad? Yeah, but mostly because I don't like to hear about anyone dying. Did I cry when I heard she will probably not live another day? Almost... almost. I was shaking my head right there.
Sophie has lived 97 years, and is now dying of nothing more than old age. At this very moment, her body is missing that oxygen mask and asking itself what the fuck it should do next. Or maybe it already knows. Who can say for sure? Regardless, I wish Sophie a peaceful journey into the next life. I hope she comes back as something beautiful and free, and that she takes her final hours to realize how much she was once loved.
** late note **
It's about 30 minutes after I wrote all of that, and I just found myself in the kitchen mixing up a Salty Dog cocktail. So... hmm... I guess take that to mean whatever you think it means. I started to analyze, but it was just too massive either way and now I definitely need the alcohol. Partially kidding. And about that particular recipe, I like the little blurb about the drink but there seem to be a few variations. The common denominators appear to be grapefruit juice and gin or vodka. Oh, and P.S. don't put peach bitters in it like this guy suggests. Sub two of the ounces of grapefruit with bitter lemon soda. Sprite in a pinch. *ching*
Nope. Not really.
I haven't seen Sophie in 24 years. I remember her face, but I doubt she would recognize me. I'm sitting here thinking, and there isn't much about her that makes any sense. When I was a kid, she and my grandfather all but blamed my mom for the massive stroke that killed my dad. One encounter at one of my sisters' weddings, one birthday phone call, and a couple of decades later I'm here shaking my head. And my fist, a little. Not that I ever lacked family, what with three sisters, a brother, aunties, uncles, nieces, nephews, and a gazillion cousins. Obviously I've never had to spend Christmas alone. The thing that gets me now is the backward view. Looking through my memories and not finding any of Grandmom with my husband or my kids (not for lack of a brief effort on my part)... no pictures of her at my college graduation or my wedding.
There's no rule stating you have to love someone just because you are partly the same person. What I'm confused about now, though, is whether or not I feel anything at all. I don't hold it against her that she didn't seem to care much about what was happening with one of her six grandchildren. By the time I realized I should have been hurt, I was old enough to know that pinning your pain on someone else gets you nowhere. Am I a little jealous? Yeah, maybe. Am I a little sad? Yeah, but mostly because I don't like to hear about anyone dying. Did I cry when I heard she will probably not live another day? Almost... almost. I was shaking my head right there.
Sophie has lived 97 years, and is now dying of nothing more than old age. At this very moment, her body is missing that oxygen mask and asking itself what the fuck it should do next. Or maybe it already knows. Who can say for sure? Regardless, I wish Sophie a peaceful journey into the next life. I hope she comes back as something beautiful and free, and that she takes her final hours to realize how much she was once loved.
** late note **
It's about 30 minutes after I wrote all of that, and I just found myself in the kitchen mixing up a Salty Dog cocktail. So... hmm... I guess take that to mean whatever you think it means. I started to analyze, but it was just too massive either way and now I definitely need the alcohol. Partially kidding. And about that particular recipe, I like the little blurb about the drink but there seem to be a few variations. The common denominators appear to be grapefruit juice and gin or vodka. Oh, and P.S. don't put peach bitters in it like this guy suggests. Sub two of the ounces of grapefruit with bitter lemon soda. Sprite in a pinch. *ching*
Tag
Three names you go by:
1. Kar(e)
2. Love
3. Mommy
Three things you are wearing right now:
1. Light gray longsleeve tee, boatneck, six-button cuff
2. Wedding ring
3. Black fleece yoga pants
Three things you want very badly at the moment:
1. Cuddle with hubby
2. Service on the iPhones
3. World peace
Three people you are certain who will answer:
1. Toni took my answers
2. But also,
3. Definitely Liz
Three of your favorite foods:
1. Blue claw crabs & beer (count as one)
2. Satay tofu from Penang
3. My mom's homemade pasta sauce
Three people you last talked to on the phone:
1. Frank
2. Joei
3. Receptionist at pediatrician's office
Three things you are going to do tomorrow:
1. Put chocolate frosting on the heart shaped, two-layer yellow cake I baked for the kids
2. Go outside
3. Drink coffee
Three of your favorite beverages:
1. Ruby red grapefruit juice
2. Water
3. Guinness
I grabbed this off Toni's Tales and Travails. Could not resist.
1. Kar(e)
2. Love
3. Mommy
Three things you are wearing right now:
1. Light gray longsleeve tee, boatneck, six-button cuff
2. Wedding ring
3. Black fleece yoga pants
Three things you want very badly at the moment:
1. Cuddle with hubby
2. Service on the iPhones
3. World peace
Three people you are certain who will answer:
1. Toni took my answers
2. But also,
3. Definitely Liz
Three of your favorite foods:
1. Blue claw crabs & beer (count as one)
2. Satay tofu from Penang
3. My mom's homemade pasta sauce
Three people you last talked to on the phone:
1. Frank
2. Joei
3. Receptionist at pediatrician's office
Three things you are going to do tomorrow:
1. Put chocolate frosting on the heart shaped, two-layer yellow cake I baked for the kids
2. Go outside
3. Drink coffee
Three of your favorite beverages:
1. Ruby red grapefruit juice
2. Water
3. Guinness
I grabbed this off Toni's Tales and Travails. Could not resist.
Saturday, March 20
Writing stuff down is totally important
There's something funny about moving around. One place feels different from the next. Like, Lima feels different than New Jersey. I don't know exactly what going back and forth from one hemisphere to the other does to my body. Whatever it is, I definitely feel it. Either it's like I live in two places at once, or I have so many steps to perform to get to the next breathing point that I lose track of days. I carry a note pad around all day long. Right now it's my best friend. Without it, even for simple stuff, I'm lost. Here's my list from yesterday:
post office
thomas - tracks - diesel?
food shopping
old navy - kids socks - nico pjs and tees
mortgage, two mos. condo dues
amazon - order books - coupon
And that was just what I did between 9 am and 1 pm. The exciting life of a stay-at-home mom, right? And it's not hard stuff. It's just that my mind is everywhere at once, and focus is nearly impossible to find when I'm here, but I'm also 3,000+ miles away. I still have to schedule a flight back, but I'm waiting to find out what Frank's plans are. Wouldn't want to show up at the apartment if nobody's going to be home. And plus, I'm not sure I brought my keys. That would suck, being locked out with two kids and luggage.
But anyway, back to New Jersey. Back to the moment. This has been a fantastic visit home, and the great news is there's more to come. I just want to keep soaking in all the goodness. I look forward to being back in Lima with Frank. I look even more forward to coming back to NJ. Freaking me out a little is the thought that my son will almost be ready for kindergarten when we officially "come home". I was putting his pajamas on him earlier tonight, and it struck me how he looks like a giant version of the baby he once was, or even what he was just a year ago. And Olivia? Forget about it. Amazing, all the changes and how much I love them. Seriously, sometimes my soul aches when I think about those babies. Soon enough, I'll be back with Frank, drinking a beer on the roof, talking about love and family and the meaning of life. Sweet days to come, my friends. Sweet, sweet days.
post office
thomas - tracks - diesel?
food shopping
old navy - kids socks - nico pjs and tees
mortgage, two mos. condo dues
amazon - order books - coupon
And that was just what I did between 9 am and 1 pm. The exciting life of a stay-at-home mom, right? And it's not hard stuff. It's just that my mind is everywhere at once, and focus is nearly impossible to find when I'm here, but I'm also 3,000+ miles away. I still have to schedule a flight back, but I'm waiting to find out what Frank's plans are. Wouldn't want to show up at the apartment if nobody's going to be home. And plus, I'm not sure I brought my keys. That would suck, being locked out with two kids and luggage.
But anyway, back to New Jersey. Back to the moment. This has been a fantastic visit home, and the great news is there's more to come. I just want to keep soaking in all the goodness. I look forward to being back in Lima with Frank. I look even more forward to coming back to NJ. Freaking me out a little is the thought that my son will almost be ready for kindergarten when we officially "come home". I was putting his pajamas on him earlier tonight, and it struck me how he looks like a giant version of the baby he once was, or even what he was just a year ago. And Olivia? Forget about it. Amazing, all the changes and how much I love them. Seriously, sometimes my soul aches when I think about those babies. Soon enough, I'll be back with Frank, drinking a beer on the roof, talking about love and family and the meaning of life. Sweet days to come, my friends. Sweet, sweet days.
Monday, March 15
Heading back
Looks like the kiddos and I will be leaving on a jet plane in two weeks or so. We've got a husband and daddy waiting for us down there, but fear not. We'll be back for good soon enough.
Wednesday, March 10
Stuff I did today, not in chronological order
Ate half a theater-size box of Milk Duds.
Brushed my teeth, then washed and moisturized my face.
Packed a bag for me and the kids for tomorrow -- going to see my niece's school play.
Napped for approximately one hour.
Wore my winter hat indoors half the day, then switched to a pony tail.
Posted this video on FB for Frank.
Raked leaves out of the herb garden.
Got a workout pushing the babies around the back yard in a red kiddie car.
Made two phone calls; one to pay a bill, and one about re-enrolling for health insurance.
Chatted with Jen about Corey Haim while the kids watched cartoons.
Realized I like dressing the kids in coordinating outfits.
Had pot roast, potatoes with gravy, and honey glazed carrots for dinner.
Had Kix cereal with vanilla Silk for dinner number two.
Used a calculator five times.
Smelled fresh rosemary.
Got a little confused remembering winter here is ending, not beginning.
Tried to find a place for all the kids' cool new hand-me-down clothes, all the while being thankful for friends with good taste in toddler fashion.
Wondered if the show The Good Wife is on demand.
Searched high and low for the copy of Vicky Christina Barcelona we evidently still owe Netflix.
Read articles about sports, knitting, and typography, and also started up reading a second book.
Thought about life.
Brushed my teeth, then washed and moisturized my face.
Packed a bag for me and the kids for tomorrow -- going to see my niece's school play.
Napped for approximately one hour.
Wore my winter hat indoors half the day, then switched to a pony tail.
Posted this video on FB for Frank.
Raked leaves out of the herb garden.
Got a workout pushing the babies around the back yard in a red kiddie car.
Made two phone calls; one to pay a bill, and one about re-enrolling for health insurance.
Chatted with Jen about Corey Haim while the kids watched cartoons.
Realized I like dressing the kids in coordinating outfits.
Had pot roast, potatoes with gravy, and honey glazed carrots for dinner.
Had Kix cereal with vanilla Silk for dinner number two.
Used a calculator five times.
Smelled fresh rosemary.
Got a little confused remembering winter here is ending, not beginning.
Tried to find a place for all the kids' cool new hand-me-down clothes, all the while being thankful for friends with good taste in toddler fashion.
Wondered if the show The Good Wife is on demand.
Searched high and low for the copy of Vicky Christina Barcelona we evidently still owe Netflix.
Read articles about sports, knitting, and typography, and also started up reading a second book.
Thought about life.
Tuesday, March 9
Space. The final frontier.
I'm watching some bedtime Star Trek (the original series). There are nights when I put on episodes I've never seen before, but this time I'm going with an old favorite. Balance of Terror. Arguably one of the best in the show's three-season run. Ahh, young Shatner. And I had a girlhood crush on young Leonard Nimoy. And no, I'm not embarrassed.
Tonight I wish I could snuggle with my husband, who is 3,000+ miles away. It's my not-so-secret wish that he will show up at the front door. It would be the most pleasant surprise ever. Right now I'm so tired but don't want to shut my eyes. I want Frank lying next to me, pretending he's too tired to scratch my back, then stroking my hair until I fall asleep. Sometimes when he does scratch my back, he'll do it for about thirty seconds before he gets distracted or bored, at which point he calls a 'commercial break' and reaches for the remote or picks up a book or does something else to let me know my favor time is over. It's fine, though, because I secretly prefer the stroking of the hair. Actually, there's other stuff I prefer over that, but that none of your beeswax!
Tomorrow we've got a rockin' playdate planned. I'm debating getting my shower tonight. The eternal dilemma. Do I shower tonight and get it over with, or wait until morning and risk getting into a time crunch? It's 12:45 a.m. and I still don't have an answer. Typical. I hate going to bed. Isn't there a magical pill that could solve this? There's a pill for everything else, it seems. If a little tablet can accidentally give a guy a boner for four hours, then why not purposely invent one that allows you to cram a full night's rest into three?
Let me go think on that one. Better yet, let me brush my teeth and watch more of my show. I might start it again from the beginning, so that I can see my favorite parts and then drift off to the sights and sounds of grown men and women acting out space drama in outrageously cool costumes.
Tonight I wish I could snuggle with my husband, who is 3,000+ miles away. It's my not-so-secret wish that he will show up at the front door. It would be the most pleasant surprise ever. Right now I'm so tired but don't want to shut my eyes. I want Frank lying next to me, pretending he's too tired to scratch my back, then stroking my hair until I fall asleep. Sometimes when he does scratch my back, he'll do it for about thirty seconds before he gets distracted or bored, at which point he calls a 'commercial break' and reaches for the remote or picks up a book or does something else to let me know my favor time is over. It's fine, though, because I secretly prefer the stroking of the hair. Actually, there's other stuff I prefer over that, but that none of your beeswax!
Tomorrow we've got a rockin' playdate planned. I'm debating getting my shower tonight. The eternal dilemma. Do I shower tonight and get it over with, or wait until morning and risk getting into a time crunch? It's 12:45 a.m. and I still don't have an answer. Typical. I hate going to bed. Isn't there a magical pill that could solve this? There's a pill for everything else, it seems. If a little tablet can accidentally give a guy a boner for four hours, then why not purposely invent one that allows you to cram a full night's rest into three?
Let me go think on that one. Better yet, let me brush my teeth and watch more of my show. I might start it again from the beginning, so that I can see my favorite parts and then drift off to the sights and sounds of grown men and women acting out space drama in outrageously cool costumes.
Thursday, March 4
Pandora, what's your prob?
I'm having one of those nights where Pandora is completely wasting my time. Enough with the "two-man duo" bullshit, okay? Snooze.
Comfy pants, book. Will be playing The Ecstatic (Mighty Mos) on low.
Oh, let me mention this before I go. I had a fabulous lunch with my friend Lauren this afternoon. By the time we got the check, we were laughing so hard that I had to dab under my eyes to make sure my mascara wasn't half way down my face. Comparing notes with other parents is so refreshing. Now I don't feel so bad for being furious at Livi for that split second after she kicks me in the sternum while I'm changing her diaper. Maybe I shouldn't have watched so much kung-fu while I was pregnant. Livi's ability to absorb Bruce moves is not to be underestimated. Feet of Fury and whatnot.
Ok. Now, really, comfies/book/Mos.
Comfy pants, book. Will be playing The Ecstatic (Mighty Mos) on low.
Oh, let me mention this before I go. I had a fabulous lunch with my friend Lauren this afternoon. By the time we got the check, we were laughing so hard that I had to dab under my eyes to make sure my mascara wasn't half way down my face. Comparing notes with other parents is so refreshing. Now I don't feel so bad for being furious at Livi for that split second after she kicks me in the sternum while I'm changing her diaper. Maybe I shouldn't have watched so much kung-fu while I was pregnant. Livi's ability to absorb Bruce moves is not to be underestimated. Feet of Fury and whatnot.
Ok. Now, really, comfies/book/Mos.
Wednesday, March 3
King is bringin' it
Shit, I wish I could write something. I know why I can't. I can't put two real thoughts together lately. Not to sound weird, but Peru changed me. I'm a little freaked out, a little amazed, and a little proud. I want to say thanks to Toni, whose recent blog comments have helped me put words to all the feelings. I just feel like a different person. I feel like I just plain feel more. It's deep, deep shit, man. Deeeep.
In more tangible news, I'm engrossed in Stephen King's Duma Key. Again, weird. I'm not really one for the scary stuff. At least not last time I checked. Hell, maybe it's my new nightly job of chasing scary things out of the kids' room that's got me feeling so bold. Here's what we do. The kids are in their beds, all tucked just right, and Livi says, "Mommy. I scare. Monsters." I stop patting Nico's back, then stand up and say, "All you monsters and dragons and ghosts and trains and engines, go... a... way!" As I'm saying that last part, I swish my arms out in front of myself like I'm snapping a bed sheet. Wa-BAM! Beat it, monsters. The kids congratulate my efforts, and now everyone can sleep.
Except me. I'm off to read some fright and drink my special herbal tea blend. Hot lemon tea, lemon slice, tablespoon of honey, and 2oz. of Southern Comfort. Sleep tight.
In more tangible news, I'm engrossed in Stephen King's Duma Key. Again, weird. I'm not really one for the scary stuff. At least not last time I checked. Hell, maybe it's my new nightly job of chasing scary things out of the kids' room that's got me feeling so bold. Here's what we do. The kids are in their beds, all tucked just right, and Livi says, "Mommy. I scare. Monsters." I stop patting Nico's back, then stand up and say, "All you monsters and dragons and ghosts and trains and engines, go... a... way!" As I'm saying that last part, I swish my arms out in front of myself like I'm snapping a bed sheet. Wa-BAM! Beat it, monsters. The kids congratulate my efforts, and now everyone can sleep.
Except me. I'm off to read some fright and drink my special herbal tea blend. Hot lemon tea, lemon slice, tablespoon of honey, and 2oz. of Southern Comfort. Sleep tight.
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