Posts

Socially Acceptable Avoidance Techniques for All

This morning, while in the shower, I heard the door to the other bathroom close and I cringed. At first, I thought it was odd to have such a visceral reaction to something so benign. Then, I realized why the clicking of the door closed bothers me so much. The only person in the house who actually closes the door to the bathroom is Andy and, when Andy closes the door to the bathroom, he doesn't come out for a very long time. Without getting too much into TMI, I know that the important work of the potty takes more time for some than others but NOT. THAT. LONG! After 25 minutes pass, when I can do nothing because asking if he is ok or done is awkward, I start to wonder what exactly is going on behind that door and why being in there for so long takes priority over spending time with his family. But again, it's silly of me to be sad and missing my husband while he is in the bathroom because everybody poops. In addition to time in the bathroom, Andy dedicates much of his time to w…

The Five Stages

We all know that men are from Mars and women are from Venus. We have read books about how to successfully live with someone who's from another planet. Andy, unfortunately for me, is not from Mars nor Venus, but another planet altogether. Sometimes, I find him to be so unique that I'm sure no one else lives on this planet but him. I'm not much of a astronomer but I'm also sure that all the other planets in Andy's solar system do not orbit around the sun but instead his very unique, solitary planet, or, to be scientifically accurate, his own star. The girls and I are on the lightest planet, Planet Family, which orbits the heavy hitter, the heavy weight, the brightest of them all, the star with the strongest gravitational pull- known as Andy's Sun.I'm pretty sure that Andy's Sun thinks it's characteristics mirror the Sun that the Earth orbits -near perfect, most important, responsible for all life. (Interestingly, I learned that the Sun is middle-aged…

For Granted

When we received Caroline's diagnosis, Andy and I decided not to hide the information and instead chose to educate friends and family about her rare genetic condition. We hoped this information would assist others in understanding her better and selfishly, for me, I hoped it would get people off my back about how we parent her. In some cases, our openness about her disability has helped others, or at least it has allowed our community of people the opportunity to ask more questions without feeling rude or embarrassed."Does she take any medication?"Does she attended regular school? Is she in a special education classroom or is she mainstreamed?Will she be able to go to college? What does Charlotte say about her? Will she outgrow it? She doesn't look like she has a disability so how did you know? I'd be lying if I told you that some of these questions haven't bothered me but ignorance is bliss and, when it comes to learning, no question is stupid, even if it co…

Becoming a Gambler

"You've got to know when to hold 'emKnow when to fold 'em Know when to walk awayAnd know when to run -Kenny Rogers Seventeen years ago, my college roommate suggested I run on the track with her as a way to shed unwanted college weight. I could barely run one lap around the track before walking but I continued returning to the track until graduation and then, after college, I took to the streets. I have dedicated several posts to my love of, and history with, the sport of running and my journey to defining myself as a runner. Running has been a constant and consistent piece of my twenties and thirties, a safe space in times of uncertainty and a place for me to channel my energy and goals. I use those words very intentionally: space, place. Running is not a thing, it is an action, but for me the action of running has a physicality beyond my body moving in time and space. Running is tangible; it's impact on my mind is as concrete for me as the way it has shaped my mu…

While You Were...

Many years ago, when we were first married, I was one wink away from passing out on the couch when Andy jokingly told me he wouldn't have married me if he knew how much I slept. I've missed out on a lot of things due to my love for sleep. As a kid, I was up when the sun rose and down with the sun set, so sometimes that meant I was ready for bed as early as 5 o'clock. College is a place for night owls but this didn't change my sleeping habits. While most of my friends were chatting and putting in extra study hours, I was sound asleep in room, even if that meant my roommates and their friends were hanging out with the lights on while I snoozed in my twin bed just a few feet away. I can't say that I ever pulled an all-nighter to finish a paper or project. Being a college student is exhausting, and also a time to make one's own schedule. In addition to going to bed early, I also fit in several daytime naps. I followed a similar pattern in graduate school, althoug…

Joy, Loss, and Pets on Mother's Day

Today is Mother's Day. My social media feed is full of praise for moms everywhere alongside photos of mothers and children. On this day, I too, want to shout out to the roof tops about my own mom, grandmother and mother-in-law: the mother figures in my life who have mentored and shaped me. Like so many of the posts from this blog, I also want to tell you all about my babies and how they have raised me as a mother. Yet on this day, after scanning my social media, I am cautious in doing so. While most posts are celebratory, others are painful and express the grief of a lost mom or a lost child, or the deep hurt and longing that comes with infertility. I am aware that no one in my life is angry or spiteful that my mothers and children are alive. My friends share in my joy and my story as a mom and daughter, but I know this particular day stings for so many. As a witness and friend to those who have lost a mother or a child, I see that it is a deep and lasting struggle with grief and…

On Being Mean

I didn't go to Montessori pre-school or Waldorf pre-school. I didn't go to Head Start. My early childhood training was very special. I like to call it the School of Ma and Moe. My mom (Moe) and her mom (Ma) were very close, both emotionally and in proximity. Growing up, we lived two houses away from my grandmother and I joined my mother at Ma's house every morning and evening. My mom was one of many visitors to Ma's house at these times of day, as folks dropped by for coffee and a donut and some rambunctious conversation. Whilst the adults smoked and swore, I sat next to them at the kitchen table, sipped my tea, munched my donut and colored. Every once in a while, another child might drop in, towed along by one of the other adult visitors, but often it was just me, a little gnome surrounded by big people who rarely noticed I was there. (Which, in those days was a good thing as children were to be seen and not heard.) While I colored and munched, I was always listening…