When death comes to a family, to say it is hard is to say the very least. When that family is fractured, it becomes complicated.

5 Things I Learned in Mexico

1. I stood out more because I was wearing a (shudder) swim dress than I would have if I had been wearing a bikini.
2. No one cares what anyone else looks like (see #1).
3. My kids are awesome travelers.
4. *Steve is replaced by Esteban as soon as he hits Mexican soil.
5. It doesn't have to be a romantic trip to feel the love.

*This is invaluable and must be tested on other soils.  Does it work in Spain? Stefan in Germany?  Stefano in Italy?

Sweet are the Uses of Adversity

When I was young, maybe in middle school, I entered a writing contest sponsored by Penn State.  The prompt was the quote from Shakespeare's As You Like It and we were supposed to talk about what it meant to us.  I have no bloody idea what I wrote specifically, but I do know the quote has stayed with me ever since.  (For the record, I got an honorable mention and got to go to main campus for a very glamorous luncheon and received a handshake from the chair of the English department and a certificate.  It was cool.)

Anyway, while packing for a trip tomorrow, a trip unlike any my little family has ever been able to take (like, a fancy trip), the quote came to me again.  And it couldn't be more appropriate for how I feel about taking this trip at this time of year.  I'm not being dramatic when I say that last year at this time was the start of a  pretty horrific year for us and if someone had told me that our family would be happily taking this trip a mere 8 months later I would not have believed it.  So, in short, this trip is even more precious than it would normally be.  And though I am not ready to say (and will never be) that having Last Year happen was worth it because of how precious this feels, it does put things into a pretty wonderful perspective.  And I am grateful.

Resolute

Every year I make the same resolutions everyone else does---exercise more, lose weight, save money.  Blah blah blah.  This year I'm trying something new.  New because it used to come easy to me but has become really really hard.  

This year, I will try to be positive.  Positive not only in my professional life (easy) but also in my personal one (hard as of late).  I will decide to not react to some things and to react in a different, more positive way to others.  I will be kinder to myself and not immediately assume fault.  I will look to the many wonderful things in my life when others seem not-so-great. I will try not to think of those that I love as assholes even when they are acting like one. 

I will try.

Still Here

Halfway into our 4-mile REALLY HARD hike, this is what we saw

I'm not sure anyone is reading this blog (other than Audrey...hi Aud!!) but I'm coming back to it, slowly but surely.  It's been an incredibly stressful summer, starting back in May, and I made the decision to not share that because, ew...  if I don't want to read my own whining who else would want to?! So, since things are on the upswing (crossing fingers!), I feel ready to be here again.  Even if it's just me and Audrey.

We finally got away for the weekend!  Woo-hoo!  Last year's week-long trip was not to be repeated because we have a goal as a family to go to England next year and want to try very very hard to save for that.  But not getting away at all is not healthy.  So we packed up the van and went to World's End State Park.

It was beautiful. 

Using the excuse that I was photographing beautiful fungi to catch my breath on a deadly hike

I know a lot of people (some of them my very good friends) do not enjoy camping.  Some see it as work.  And it can be (putting up a tent, cooking outside without a lot of conveniences, etc.).  But the homebody in me sees it as another opportunity to set up a very relaxed home.  I feel a weird satisfaction in spreading out my vinyl-covered tablecloth on the picnic table, setting up the cooler and 32-year-old Coleman stove.  I like making it cozy.  And food tastes better outside.  

There was also a lot of this

But what I like most is that the kids talk.  Those of you with small children might see this as a deterrent because small children never shut up.  But a lot of teenagers (especially insular ones like ours) just don't make conversation once they reach 12 3/4 years old.  Unless they're camping, where the only technology is an iPod (if you remember to charge it).  

Suddenly, your 16 year old is talking about things he's interested in like light years and string theory.  Speaking in full sentences!!  And though I didn't understand half of what he said (I am severely right-brained), I could have listened for another week to him talking.

Do not be fooled by this studiousness.  This is someone who waited until the week before school to read and write about two novels.

And it was positively glorious to see the other teenager act silly and joke (with us! not just with her friend!).  I can't express how wonderful it was just to see her so uncomplicatedly happy.

Going into the water in all your clothes and shoes. Even if it's 60 degrees.  Why not?

Love

Nugget Boy

Finally

Greetings from overcast, sunny, humid, cool, beautiful Vermont.  It's a complex state and I love it. I've always loved New England.  Although, truth be told,  I'm not known for being objective--I tend to want to move to every place I've ever vacationed and Vermont is no exception.

Quechee Gorge

However, I think that this vacation is especially sweet because we've waited so long for it.  Three years without a vacation may not sound like so much to loads of hard working people who are just happy to make enough money to pay the bills but because of The Economy (for a word with seven letters, it sure feels like a 4-letter one), these past three years have been a real challenge.

Only The Girl thought to bring her bathing suit

HH has always worked hard.  He's always worked like every job was the most important one he's ever had.  Getting laid off twice from two separate jobs in the past two summers has sucked way more than I could have imagined.  Like many men, he took it personally, and I think, measured his personal worth by it.  Which isn't fair at all.

The Boy, more animated than usual!

HH has also always lived by the clock.  It takes a looooooong time for him to relax.  He's always looking at what time it is to measure how long he has at a certain task until he gets to the next one. And that includes when he's having fun!  So this vacation has been a real gift.  Time to spend with his kids.  Time to take pictures.  Time to just be.

pretty

I want to thank HH right here for making it possible.  He works so hard and all I can do (until I graduate and get a JOB) is try to make the off times good for him.

Homemade root beer, black cherry soda, and eggs from their own chickens.  We recommend the Chelsea Royal Diner in West Brattleboro.  So does Road Food.

Planning Our Route

I decided to invest in a guidebook my friend Judy has been using successfully for years. 

I am so happy.  

Our vacation isn't until August but I am READY.  And now that I have this guidebook I'm ready to go even more.

Why, you ask?  Because said book offers all the great places to soak up the history of our forefathers and mothers that is New England?  Because it divulges the places to get the best deals for antiques and folk art?


Nope.......


Because THIS guidebook tells me where to get the best of these:

From Dottie's Diner in Woodbury, CT

or the best of THIS:

From the 52nd Annual Hillbilly Day in Mountain Rest, SC

Or, for all things that are holy, THIS!

Belt's Soft Serve in Stevens Point, WI

Try as I might to wish myself a different person sometimes, food and the enjoyment of food is a big part of me (ha. ha. ha.  Insert self-effacing joke here).  I truly believe that food, the preparation of it, the serving of it, and the enjoyment of it has huge anthropological import.  Really!  If you look at our blended society, for example, one of the things people cling to is their culture's food. And what's more satisfying than *ahem* learning about a local culture by eating its food?

And, clearly, I'm no food snob.  My favorite place is a Mom-and-Pop place.  There's love (or something) in that food.  It's real.  It's friendly.  And,it doesn't waste effort being fancy.  

So, I will let Jan and Michael Stern be my guides and just make sure I do lots of hiking to balance it all out.  Here they are now---and don't they just look like fun?!

 

 And, much as I would love to have their life--Steve and I would be great at it and he would be able to talk to strangers for a living---me thinks the picture above foretells the tale of the inequity of life that would most definitely be my fate.  

Damn men and their metabolism.

All photos from the Roadfood blog

This is what turns up when you google "flu bug."
This thing is too cute for something so yucky.

My poor sick boy.  

First The Girl had it. Then I had it.  Then she had it again.  Then I had it again.

Can HH escape its wrath??? 

February 3rd

...can kiss my tuchus.

I still miss her like it was yesterday.

A Very Jewish Christmas

I have always loved Christmas.  When I was a kid I celebrated it the way a lot of people do--not religiously but in a steeped-in-tradition way.  When I converted to Judaism, I only celebrated it with my parents, not in my own home. I cried for about 3 years in a row, driving home to my apartment I shared with HH that did not have a Christmas tree.  It was a huge transition for me and really, the only real one when I converted, this not celebrating Christmas in my own home. But I felt it was right one.  If I was going to embrace Judaism I was going to have to give up those old traditions and make my own new Jewish ones.

Chinese, Japanese, whatever.  It's not a baked ham.  Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Fast forward to now: I still love Christmas.  I love the tiny (and not so tiny) lights on the trees.  I love the giving.  I love the food.  And we have our own traditions. We always see a movie.    In the past we've gone to the movies with our non-Jewish friends who also see a movie every Christmas eve.  We often have Chinese food (like every other American Jew in the world). 

No teenagers were forced into having their picture taken here. This time.

Most of all what I love about Christmas is being together with my kids and HH in our undecorated Jewish house.  The best part is the being together with my little family part.  The kids literally have NOWHERE ELSE TO GO.  

This man would trade all this togetherness for more sushi.

Who needs caroling when you can eat chocolate mochi and play Boggle?

 It's a forced togetherness but I'll take what I can get.

Mr. Romance Gets a Bug

 Not my son...although IT COULD BE

 After walking around like a snot factory for a few days, with a fever for a few more days, and then finally saying that it hurt to eat. HH took [the boy (aka, Mr. Romance)] to the doctor today.  He has [MONO]!!  Now, when I was a teenager (I can hear a collective snoring of all present teenagers when I say this), mono was commonly called [The Kissing Disease] and that,combined with the fact that people I "knew" who had it stayed home from school for months, made me want to get this disease.  It was a disease that CAME FROM KISSING and made you MISS SCHOOL.  How much better does it get than that?

Well, while it's possible that the boy could have contracted this virus from kissing--because in addition to being King of the Video Game Nerds, he also also a stud (shiver)--it turns out that not only is the kissing thing a fallacy, but there also is no reason to quarantine anyone with the virus past 48 hours of being on an antibiotic (which I thought wasn't any help for a virus, but whatever).  How long someone stays home and away from society convalescing is dependent on (shocking!) how crappy or noncrappy they feel.  

So, hopefully for everyone concerned (a bored 14 year old is NOT FUN FOR ANYONE), he will be feeling better by Monday and ready to hang with his nerdy buds and plot his next girlfriend move.


This, my friends, is not just a public service announcement about The Truth About Mono, helpful as it surely is.  This is actually the chance to show you THIS...(click my cool new "read more" widget)

Brown-Eyed Boy

This is a picture of the first baby I ever saw, 

live and up close, come into the world.

It's a day I'll never forget.  

I was 16 years old and his mom was living with us

because his dad (my brother) was in the Navy and overseas somewhere.

I got to see first-hand how her stomach grew, how much she anticipated

this little life that would forever change hers.

I can remember being in school towards the end of her pregnancy and thinking

Is this the day?

Will I meet my nephew or niece today?

The plan was for my mom to be her coach.  

I was just along for the ride because I asked to be 

and because my sister-in-law is such a nice person.

I think now about how alone she must have felt.  

How her baby's daddy was so far away 

and she was far away from her own family.

She felt like the sister I always wanted, 

living with me, sharing my life.

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After sitting around the hospital for awhile 

(a day off from school-bonus!!) 

the time  was finally here.

We suited up in scrubs and hair covers.  

My sister-in-law was so tired and I realize now, scared.

We gathered around her in the delivery room, trying to comfort and encourage her.  

At least that's what I was trying to do.  I think I was scared at this point too.

Her doctor was so kind, encouraging her and comforting her. 

He took a look at me, useless and nervous, and said, 

"Why don't you come and have a seat by me?"

For as long as I live I will never forget seeing the his little dark curl of hair.

"What's that?" I asked.

"The baby's head," the doctor replied.

I burst into tears and so did everyone else in the delivery room---

jaded, seen-it-all nurses, 

my mom, 

the doctor, 

and of course, my sister-in-law.

A few months later with that little baby in a stroller with me at the mall, 

I told everyone who stopped to admire him  
that he was mine.

----------------------------------------------------------------

 This is a picture of that baby 

with his wife.

That is something to give one pause.

The girl and I spent a long weekend in San Antonio

so we could go to his wedding.

It was beautiful--beautiful bride, beautiful setting, her beautiful family...

and one very very nervous groom.

At first I didn't understand, exactly.

Everything went well.

Nothing went wrong.

The vows were said, the music played.

He was married to the girl he loved 

and he was still so nervous.

Have I mentioned that this "boy" is a Marine

and just graduated from 

demolition school?

I think what happened is that everything finally hit him:

 He no longer lives for himself.

He's got someone expecting things of him,

counting on him,

and supporting him too.

That's pretty daunting even without the pending tour of duty in Afghanistan.

He's only 24 years old but he's had a challenging life.

I wish I'd been there for him more and I tried to be

but I was busy building my own life.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Here's what I know about him:

He is smart.

He is dedicated.

He is kind.

Here's what I wish for him:

That he has stability.

That he has support.

That he has joy.

That he is safe.

That he has a family.

 I can't wait to get to know him as the man he has become.    

About a Boy

Yesterday was The Boy's 14th birthday.  How the hell did that happen?  Two weeks ago  we got a letter in the mail about high school orientation.

WHAAAAAAT????

Because it was only 3 weeks ago that HE WAS BORN.  Really.  And I was 25.  I know that I have really become my parents because every Friday I am {dumbfounded} how fast the week went.  And the months.  And the years.  Ho-ly crap.  Before I know it I'll be a GRANDPARENT wearing {slacks}.

But this isn't about me. 

This is about the baby who was born who made me a grown up.  I know, I know, I've brought it back to me again but I can't help it.  The Boy's birth was not for the faint-hearted.  If there was ever a time in which I wished I could crawl back into my mom's WOMB let alone her lap it was when Sam was born.


My sister-in-law doesn't like to talk about this because it reminds her of her son's birth which, in so many respects, was freakily the same as S's.  Normal pregnancy, etc. etc. and then WHAM! Scary birth.  NICU.  Tubes.  No one telling me exactly when he would go home (because, they told me later, they didn't know not when but IF).  

I think of this picture as a Before and After.

Before, S=fetus

After, C=actual viable baby

And then, he was home and everything was great and then WHAM-O, {postpartum depression}.

And THEN, in the midst of the PPD, near-constant crying on both of our parts.  And a pediatrician who told me "Mrs. T, all babies cry." and hearing his office staff say "It's HER again!" and THEN the good Dr. hinting that perhaps I had been expecting--I kid you not--a "perfect baby."


All this with me {not sleeping AT ALL}.  And thinking about throwing myself down the stairs every time I passed them because maybe then I would be left alone in the hospital.


Wow, have I really brought this back to me.  But here's the happy ending: the end of my PPD coincided with a second opinion about the baby who cried even when he nursed, thanks to my childhood pediatrician, Dr. Paolini of Reading PA, who listened to me. Who took me seriously.  Who found that my baby had such {reflux} that he had the start of an ulcer.  Who put him on prescription Zantac and turned him into this:

4 months

This is one month after Zantac.  Happy, healthy baby.  With fantastic hair.

I kicked that ****** pediatrician to the curb. 

So, now you know why I felt like a grownup when I had The Boy.  He turned me into a Mom and Someone To Be Reckoned With.


And this boy, after all the upset and hard beginnings turned into the sweetest, the kindest, the most fun baby a girl woman could wish for.  He would wake up happy, he would go to sleep without a fuss, and in between delight me with his way of looking at the world.  It was so amazing to see everything as if it were new through his eyes.  I never thought I could love anyone as much as I loved him.  

Another memory is of a day late in my pregnancy with his sister.  He and I were taking a walk around the block, with him running ahead and me waddling behind. I was watching him with the gooey eyes of a hormonal woman (who cries at everything anyway) and he turned around and reached for me with one hand.  I burst into tears and thought I was ruining his--our--life because I was having another baby.  This was the last time it would be just him and me.  I could cry now thinking about it. I thought my love for another baby would somehow take away some of the love from him.  Sounds stupid, I know, but I am still amazed at the heart's ability to expand and include.

S,almost 3; M, 3 days

And he was a perfect big brother.  Gentle and kind.  Not too jealous.  The love that he is.  When his sister got big enough to take things from him I worried that maybe he was too kind, too mild-mannered. She would take his toys and he would cry.  He would take hers and she would grab the scruff of his shirt, look him in the eye, and growl GIVE IT BACK.  And he would.  Yikes.

Yeah, this picture pretty much sums up their differing personalities

But HH and I have found that although he's patient and kind and everyone likes him, he's no pushover.  He doesn't say much, but he doesn't do anything he doesn't want to do.  And that is a relief that I hope I keep feeling.  High school is NEXT YEAR.  I know we're not out of the woods yet.  And he doesn't tell us things and he doesn't talk about stuff, but his friends are nice.  And smart. And involved in school.  Not surprising that he's chosen to surround himself with kids like this but still, it's a relief.

The boy on the right is raising his hand for more food.

I love to feed him.

He doesn't tell me he loves me anymore unless I beg.  He stiffens up when I try to kiss/hug/come near him.  He likes to look at girls' boobs.  But he's still my baby.  

And he teaches me everyday how to be his mom.  

I Hate February 3rd

4/2/17-2/3/95

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5/21/41-2/3/04

My Girl

From the very beginning, my girl was sassy.

4 months

Under this picture in a photo album, the caption reads

"This girl is FUN!"

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She has always had a flair...

2 yrs

...for the dramatic.

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She and I often look at the world

the same way.

29 yrs, 3 months

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Sometimes that way is just plain nuts.

6 yrs

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As she's gotten older, I've often worried that she was lonely

or that something was wrong because she didn't want to spend a lot of time

outside school with her friends.

10 yrs

But I've learned that she likes being with herself,

that alone-time is precious to her.

It's funny because I'm like that now, as a grown up. 

I used to feel like I always had to be with someone.

It's taken me a long time to learn to like my own company.

It took my girl just a few years.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

This is my girl a month ago, at almost 11.

It's gone by so fast.

And even though every morning I don't know which girl

is coming down the steps...

Baby Girl who is nervous and needs her Mommy 

"Teenage" Grump who is embarrassed by her family's (MY) existence

Goofy nut who is all about fun and psyched about life

?????

Even though it can be challenging, knowing how to react,

how to be Her Mother..

Even though I know she'll sometimes hurt my feelings

because she just can't help herself...

Even though ...

Life with My Girl is interesting. 

And fun.

And messy.

And, it's pretty cool knowing that your kid is someone who you'd want to know

even if she wasn't your kid.

Happy Birthday, Pie

1.27.99

love xoxo
 Mommy

And a Very Jewish Christmas to All!

Continuing our own traditions throughout the year is something that makes me feel good every single time.  Lighting the menorrah each Hanukkah and sending the kids on a treasure hunt for their gifts, baking up a batch of chocolate matzah buttercrunch for Passover, and making some form of fondue (even if it's clumpy) for New Year's Eve...all these traditions are looked forward to and taken for granted that they will happen by the kids and carried on with pleasure by me and HH. 

We've even got traditions for the big holiday we don't celebrate.  You know the one because right now YOU are probably knee-deep in it.  As for us, we've completed 4 of the 5 steps in our Jewish Christmas tradition.

1. 
   
     Last night, on Jewish Christmas Eve, we went out to eat; usually, it is to a diner because everything else is usually too packed with Christmas-celebrators.  But this year we went to a new Mexican restaurant down the street and, I think, a new tradition may have been born.  Not to go this restaurant every year, but the tradition of Mom drinking a Christmas margarita!  It was worthy of carrying on for years to come!
   
   
2. 
   
   Then a horror movie was watched.  This year's Bio Zombie was deemed "boring" by The Girl.  Some traditions are not without sacrifice.
   
   
3. 
   
   Sleeping late today was a must.  No worries about getting up first to see the gifts under the tree. There are no gifts and the only tree is a ficus. 
   
   
4. 
   
   Another movie, this one at a theater.  Sherlock Holmes.  Brilliant!  It had almost all the elements I enjoy in a movie--fabulous scenery and costumes, snappy dialogue, smart and easy-on-the-eyes lead actors and the tease of a sequel.  *8 thumbs-up!
   
   
5. 
   
   And in a few minutes we'll leave for a Jewish Christmas dinner--for many years it was Chinese food in Chinatown.  But this year I was the only one who wanted to go so  we're going to the new Carnegie Deli located in our town's casino.  Classy!  My guess is we'll be the only actual Jews there but I'm looking forward to a 5-pound sandwich and some people-watching (I'm betting--get it?!-- on seeing a LOT of ugly Christmas sweater/wind suit combinations).  Ah, tradition...

*editted later: I was just reflecting on Robert Downey's performance and Jude Law's twinkly eyes while trying to fall asleep and I just remembered that one thing bothered me about the movie--watch carefully when you see it: all the magic/evil/witchcrafty stuff has HEBREW LETTERING on it!  WHY?  I must investigate.  If this is a "we hate the jews" subplot I will be so disappointed.  Not to mention upset that my Jewish Christmas was perhaps ruined.  OY.

I Make My Own Rules

I know the traditional time to count one's blessings is Thanksgiving and I like Thanksgiving because of that (and the pie), but I think the end of the year is a good time too.  And a weird side effect of running for me is that, even though I hate almost every second of the actual running, I also think lots of happy thoughts while I'm doing it.  Weird.

So anyway, these are some of the things I was thinking this week while my thighs were threatening to burn a hole in my under armour pants and my chest was heaving (and not in a good way):

I am thankful for:

my husband

Yes, that's him. 

(in college) 

And if you know me well, you know I started dating him in spite of

his propensity for face-painting.

In spite of the many ways in which he makes me INSANE,

I can't imagine my life without him. 

He will drive me crazy until the day I die.

That's my version of a love note.

and,

these two

He mumbles and occasionally smells like something

that would be at home on a French cheese plate.

He drives me insane because we seem to speak different languages right now.

And he should be speaking MINE.

She is growing up too fast and wants to bend every rule I make.

She drives me insane because it's like living with Sybil. 

I never know who is coming down the stairs in the morning.

But they remind me every day of the value of patience.

And that a hug or a kind word not asked for is the greatest gift.

and,

alcohol

kidding!  This photo represents

My friends

I think one of my favorite parts of having a party is when HH and I

break it down after everyone's gone.

How all our friends are just such awesome people.

How cool it is that everyone comes from such different

areas of our life but seem to blend seamlessly.

How lucky we are to know them and count them as family.

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Now, since blogger is taking an irritatingly long time loading pictures,

here's a probably-incomplete list of other things I feel grateful for,

in no certain order. 

1. Netflix --I know this is shallow and materialistic, but it represents HH having a JOB.  And there are few things that give me a day-to-day thrill as seeing one of those red envelopes in my mailbox. Will it be a French film I can't get at Blockbuster?  Will it be another Buffy episode???

2. Movies--See above.  I luuurve movies.  I love being transported.  And I have no snobbery.  I enjoy a good zombie movie as much as a documentary (who am I kidding?  maybe more).

3. An occasional rainy day off in which I feel no guilt about lying around reading a book.

4. School--I love it.  Even the homework. I know it's sadly cliche of me as a "nontraditional student."  But it just feels good to be where I am right now and I can't believe I've done it.

5. My home--Even though it doesn't measure up in the decorating department to some of the homes I see on all the blogs I follow, it is cozy and very "me."  I like my stuff.  I like to be here.  In fact, I'd rather be here than most places.  How lucky is that?

6. The furry children--I just threw up in my mouth a little, writing that.  I am NOT one of those people who sees her pets as furry people.  A dog is a DOG.  BUT, how great is that I can leave a room for 5 minutes and be greeted when I go back in like I've been gone FOR YEARS, over and over again?  They're dim but so lovable and they never tell me I'm UNFAIR or ask anything of me but the occasional rub between the ears.  Nice.

7. The nephews--I don't see them enough but when I do, they make up for it.

8. Food in the fridge and the time to make it for my family.  I know it sounds trite, but I get such a great feeling from baking my own bread or making homemade soup or something else homey for my family.  It gives me a ridiculous amount of pleasure when I can take my time doing it.

9. Flannel sheets-- I love bed.

10. Memories--Some of them are pretty sucky, but the ones that aren't are so wonderful. 

What are you cherishing?