Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Saturday, October 15, 2011
black cats & broken records
Our black cat is named Mugsy but we call him many different names including Muggbutt, Mr. Mugglesworth, Mudgy and Mugglebottom. He's a big, furry, lovable cat who has Herpes in one of his eyes so it's often very runny. Some days Tony likes to ask me if I've seen Muggy's butthole and of course I say no even though sometimes it's hard not to with the way cats walk an inch from your face across whatever you are doing, tail held high. He actually stepped on my peanut-butter toast the other day!! Muggy has the biggest butthole of all our cats, not that I'm paying attention, but my husband has told me. Mugs likes to perch on this one counter corner in the kitchen right by the door so he can swipe at anyone who walks by and doesn't give him a treat. He loves his treats. He sits there and meows and meows and meows. When Tony is out of town I give Mugsy treats just once a day but he's used to getting a lot more when Tony is home. My mom claims to love cats but does nothing but say mean things to Muggy when he snags her sweater as she walks by, but then she'll go get the treat packet and shake out more little brown square treats on the counter than Tony may give him all day. Mugs comes and goes as he pleases, as do most cats, but he is a big lover and can be rather aggressive with getting love from you. His nose seems to get all puckered when I scratch under his chin and this morning he let me give him a big, long belly rub on the bed. Tony always asks me if I pet the animals to which I reply no because I think it is such an absurd question. I just don't dote on them the way he does. Me and the animals have an understanding, we live together, I feed them and scoop their poop and give them lovin but I have my own life. Am I saying Tony doesn't have a life? No, he does, he has more life than many of us half his age. But I not only married the Mayor of Candyland (hahahaha, he hated when I called him that in a prior blog but all it means is that he's so happy-go-lucky it doesn't seem possible) but I also married Dr. Doolittle. Then again, maybe I'm not giving myself enough credit in this department. I mean, I allowed if not welcomed and sought out many of the animals that live with us, if not all of them. I love animals even though they make my work as cleaner of this house a lot harder. Sometimes the things you love most cause you the most stress and you actually wonder for a few minutes in the heat of an especially stressful time if it is really worth it, but of course it generally is. The fact that Boris is always sneaking himself a special human snack off the counters is incredibly aggravating and yet it's our fault for leaving it and trusting him. And of course I don't actually question whether or not having kids was a good idea, and even if I did there's nothing I would do about it because the wonderfulness way outweighs the madness. Like Teagan's guaranteed daily diaper blow-out. I spend more time treating her poop stains than I care to admit. Like Tyler wanting me to read the same damned Thomas magazine to him over and over and over or hearing him say "mommy" ten million times in a row for no reason it seems other than to hear himself say it! At the end of the day I can laugh about it and I'm trying more often to laugh about it when it happens. Tony says I allow myself to get too stressed out by the kids and all my "work." He's right. I probably don't spend enough time enjoying it because I'm all business, trying to get things done around the house like keeping it in some semblance of order, trying to make sure people are fed, diapers are changed, that my guests feel at home, blah blah blah blah blah. I had a little breakdown at the therapist's this week, although it was probably hugely blown out of proportion due to my hangover. Was the fact that I was hungover directly related to my little breakdown? Perhaps. Trying to cut loose and have fun and not staying in control. But that's the old Tiffany, the pre-children Tiffany or at least the pre-Teagan Tiffany. I've been working so hard to stay zen and it hasn't been that hard considering all the work I've done in therapy lately so I just don't get it. But that IS typical Tiffany, questioning things when they are going well and then subconsciously stirring it up a little, adding a little drama or hiccup to make it feel normal again. Not that I'm a drama queen by any means, but I'm emotional and introspective and somewhat suspicious I suppose. I'm loving being a mother and I know I'm a good one but geez, I've only got two kids not five or eight or...I think my true calling has yet to be discovered. The real reason I'm here, the real things waiting for me to get done. Then again maybe I'm digging too deep and just trying to imagine some greater cause because I'm not taking care of making me happy, just everyone else. Times like these I can see how people can be so devoted to their religions, but I'm not religious so where does that leave me? It sure feels like the needle is stuck again. I need to stop creating drama, feeling sorry for myself and not taking charge of my own needs. What are my needs though? That feels like the hardest part of all of this. Is it daily yoga or running or some sort of exercise? Is it being hyper-strictly bordering on obsessively regimented with my health and nutrition? Is it making one piece of jewelry a day? Is it painting or drawing or doing photography every day? Is it writing every day, either my blog or in my journal or starting my book? Or maybe just curling up with my hubby on the couch for a little snuggle time each night. I've turned myself into a quasi ice queen and poor Tony is suffering.
My "homework" from my therapist this week was to think about where all my guilt comes from and why I don't think I'm good enough. Oh and then she wants to see me Monday so I don't even get a whole week to do my homework ;) Guilt...I dunno. I can speculate but don't think I will here, I think I'll keep that can of worms between my therapist and me. Not good enough...well that kinda follows the guilt thing. None of it too tragic but impactful all the same. My therapist impressed on me this wasn't a crisis but rather a flare up of old behavior, then after an extra long end-of-session hug she told me I would get through this, that I was strong. Then she said something to me that keeps ringing in my ears, she said "you are one of the strongest people I know." Wow.
My "homework" from my therapist this week was to think about where all my guilt comes from and why I don't think I'm good enough. Oh and then she wants to see me Monday so I don't even get a whole week to do my homework ;) Guilt...I dunno. I can speculate but don't think I will here, I think I'll keep that can of worms between my therapist and me. Not good enough...well that kinda follows the guilt thing. None of it too tragic but impactful all the same. My therapist impressed on me this wasn't a crisis but rather a flare up of old behavior, then after an extra long end-of-session hug she told me I would get through this, that I was strong. Then she said something to me that keeps ringing in my ears, she said "you are one of the strongest people I know." Wow.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Celebration of Life
I've always found the first day back from a vacation or mini-getaway to be challenging. It's like somehow life is different...or maybe it's that life is just the same as when I left it. But maybe *I'm* not the same. Add to that a drizzly, cold Monday to the mix and things are extra hard to jump back into. Now add to that coming home from the memorial of someone who was very important to you and who you really looked up to and now it's just impossible to get anything productive done. Back before I had kids, a day like today might have meant calling in sick, shuffling around the house quiet and in a daze, napping and lots of introspection. It may have taken me days to pull out of that place. However, the thing about kids is there's no time for any of that. Introspection and shuffling is still possible, but none of the other and that's probably a good thing for a person like me. Luckily my mom is here today hanging out with her beloved grand kids which is allowing me to have a bit of a break to process and regroup after this weekend.
The drive up to Paradise had its bumps, like Tony forgetting his wallet and realizing it after we'd already crossed the Bay Bridge so we had to turn around and go home for it. Talk about furious - me that is, although maybe him too after reading that I shared his memory lapse with the world! It got pretty heated in the car, from my seat, for the drive back home but then I took some deep breaths and told Tony that despite the fact that I was truly irritated about the wallet, the greater issue was that I didn't have a hold on my emotional state in anticipation of my aunt's memorial the next day. Big surprise...in that I was acting like a total bitch all morning, but not considering my loss. I've found in relationships - not just marriage - that as often as you think the other person should know exactly how you are feeling and therefore know exactly what you need that just isn't usually the case. And we always seem to get bent at the other person, in awe that they can't read our minds and don't have our personal instruction manual memorized so they can do exactly the right thing at the right time. So I had to lay it out for Tony, that I was hurting and freaking out and needed some extra love, support and understanding. It's a hard time for everyone involved.
Before too many miles passed I was feeling better and over the wallet snafu...maybe I was just distracted by the dissatisfaction of being in the car seat my daughter was now expressing at full volume. I wedged myself between the two car seats in the back seat, hoped for no sudden stops that would send me jettisoning out the car through the front windshield and paid some extra attention to Teagan trying to soothe her. We eventually pulled into the parking lot of the Sierra Nevada Brewery in Chico where we'd bought tickets for an Oktoberfest but then realized it was a strict 21+ event so had some half-baked plan to enjoy it in shifts while the other parent hung out with the kiddlings in the taproom restaurant. Yeah, exactly, didn't sound too fun. Lucky for us a couple friends were actually at the bar debating whether to buy tickets to the event so after telling them our sob story they bought them off us. So we enjoyed a family dinner & brews in the taproom restaurant, lamenting over the missed Oktoberfest but chocking it up to one of those parental sacrifices, and being ok with it. We checked into our hotel in Paradise around 9 and after a very frustrating face washing session (there was a friggin' kitchen sink faucet where the bathroom faucet should be, allowing only an inch of clearance from the flow of water to the edge of the sink!!) Tony & I each settled into our respective double beds with our respective child to sleep with.
Morning didn't come soon enough as I woke repeatedly from dreams I can't now recall and a living nightmare of Tyler rolling off his spot in bed with Tony and waking us all up crying. Poor guy. Thankfully he was ok, not like when he pulled the same stunt in a Hawaii hotel room last year and chipped his front tooth slightly! Makes me feel like we need to travel with bed railings! Anxious for a nice hot shower to wash away the bad night and prepare me for the emotional roller coaster the day would surely bring, my hopes were quickly dashed when I turned on the hot water and an abstract flow of fizz came out! The kind that is so thin, meaning there's so little water coming out I'd have never been able to wash my hair because it would take an hour just to get it all wet, then another to rinse the shampoo and another to rinse the conditioner. Then again, the water that was coming out had such force it practically stung. So bizarre. I didn't even turn on the cold water, I like my showers really hot and the water was definitely hot but there was so little of it. Maybe if I'd turned on the cold there would be more flow, but I settled for heat over quantity since I didn't have to wash my hair- thank god! I just stood there after washing my face & bod, arms folded in an X over my chest, hands in fists up under my chin, shoulders shrugged high, eyes closed, breathing deep and slow to relax my mind despite my tense body. I didn't want to get out even though it was truly the second worst shower I've ever had. I allowed myself a moment to recall THE worst shower ever...in a very cheap hotel in Rome which was the first stop with my best friend Dan on our little Euro trip of 1997. After stepping off the train from the airport, having no plans about where we were staying, we allowed a "Tourist Advisor" (who clearly worked for or was getting kick backs from the hotel we ended up at) to lead us to a place in our budget. Our budget was a joke as we had gotten the dirtiest dirt cheap airfare and could only make the trip happen on a shoestring given our ripe young ages of 22. The bathroom was down the hall and had to be shared with the other few rooms on the floor, although I don't recall seeing many other guests. The shower was like 2ft square, no kidding, with some rinky-dink plastic sliding doors that didn't actually slide since they were broken. There was some 1ft square hot water heated bolted to the wall above the shower and a pipe running down to the joke shower head that would hiss as it sprayed out water that felt like it was boiled on the sun...or maybe that was the hiss of my skin sizzling as the droplets of scalding hot water hit it. There was only boiling hot water or ice cold water, nothing in between, and regardless of the temp it only came out in that thin horrid spray. Cold water can burn too, esp. when the bathroom temp is below freezing also since it was January. I remember crying in the shower, trying to find peace with the water. There was no shelf to put your toiletries so you had to bend over to get them off the floor which you had to stand on in an awkward foot position as to avoid the nasty long hairs and curly hairs that were there when you stepped in but didn't have enough water pressure to wash away. Then of course you bumped your bum into the plastic door when you bent over which was cold and you swore would give you some sort of cootie from touching it. I remember hurrying back to our room wrapped in my towel, freezing and crying and warning Dan of the adventure awaiting him! Thankfully we only stayed there a few nights, although I wonder why we even stayed that long!
After getting coffee and a bagel with cream cheese to go at the little shop across from our hotel we headed up Skyway to the memorial location. As the narrow, windy road led us through the tall pines, I drank in the scenery that was like an old friend and imagined Nancy driving this road and loving the beauty and nature she lived in. There were memories for me every mile of the way, parks where my friends & I would hang out during lunch in high school, corner stores that were known to sell cigarettes to minors (I never smoked but some of my friends did), the 24hr cafe we would all hang out in after partying Friday or Saturday nights, the walking path I ran on to lose all my high school fat, etc. Of course those were just the high school memories and there were so many more since I'd been coming to Paradise since I was born to visit with my Uncle Chris & Aunt Nancy and their kids Matt & Julie. We turned down the rocky dirt road to Meadowbrook Ranch once we were north of town a ways, parked in the gravel lot and before we left the car I double checked that I had a new pack of tissues in the front pocket of the ergo carrier that I'd just loaded Teagan into. As we walked along the gravel path shaded by pines and surrounded by bushes of all sorts I could hear the faint sound of music and people's voices ahead, perhaps an Irish tune, very light and tinkly, the vibe emanating from both music and guests was of cheer. I walked slowly, enjoying the crunchy sound the gravel made under my feet, not in any rush to get to my destination, Tony & Tyler trailing behind me as Tyler drank in the nature so alien to him growing up in a concrete jungle. Suddenly at the end of the path ahead, not 40ft away, my cousin Matt appeared talking to someone who must have been an event worker. I wasn't sure if he saw me, I didn't wave, in fact I stopped in my tracks and turned around to face Tony &Tyler, sobbing and shaking suddenly. Tony either didn't know what to do for me or just didn't notice the frozen, scared, hurting state I was in. So without Tony rushing to hold and comfort me I got a grip quickly, turned back around and continued walking to the end of the path where tables were set up with food & flowers and people were mingling, hugging and catching up. A little girl I didn't recognize greeted us and pointed to a table for coffee and hot cocoa and another where we could sign a guestbook. Bypassing the hot liquids station we got in a short line of people waiting to sign the guestbook. There were also programs laid out on the same table, right at my fingertips now, announcing "Celebration of Life. Nancy Lynn Prestopino. December 13, 1943 - September 3, 2011." I picked one up and only half saw through the tears welling up and blurring my vision that old familiar infectious smile on Nancy's glowing face as she stood with the sun shining down on her scarf covered head, surrounded by gorgeous purple wisteria, her love of life absolutely beaming off the page. I heard a voice, my own, murmering "I can't do this" and shaking my head I walked into the field of wet, green grass where rows of chairs were set up, removed a tissue from my pocket and wiped away the tears streaking my face. I don't know if Tony signed the guest book, I never did, I had no idea what to say, there were no words, my signature was the absence of it. I'm sure Matt & Julie would understand.
I straightened myself up again just in time for another break of the dam, this time for Nancy's cousin Cathy, another non-blood relative of mine that shares a place in my heart and memories. We hugged a long time and then she put the long stem of a big, yellow-purple Dahlia in a utility loop of the ergo carrier on my left shoulder, her gestures and words of pleasure having perfectly adorned me with the flower reminding me so much of Nancy that the tears started all over again. Dahlias must have been my aunt's favorite flower, unless they were just what was in bloom and in abundance at the flower market that morning, for they were the event flower appearing everywhere and in every size and color. Even the port-a-potty was decorated with them - the little project Cathy was finishing up when I found her. Only at Nancy's memorial. Once the hundred or so of us were seated, the warm sun on our faces and the dew drying on the oak leaves, we heard the hauntingly beautiful sound of bagpipes as the solo bagpiper, dressed complete in a kilt, emerged moments after the sound of his pipes had begun in the distance, Amazing Grace bringing us all instantly to tears.
The next few hours flew by in a haze of tears, laughter, warmth, sorrow and resolve. Listening to Nancy's children tell the story of her life, some of which I knew and some I didn't, was like recalling a great movie. What a life! What a human being! Listening to guests recall stories of Nancy's antics, sense of humor, love of life and nature, grace and spirit were nothing short of 'wonderful' - a word Nancy used all the time. I can't even begin to recount all that I heard, learned and remembered from those few hours of the celebration of life. I cried a lot. Thankfully Teagan stayed asleep in the ergo carrier even though I stayed sitting down. Tony, dressed so handsomely in his suit, took care of watching out for Tyler who was running all over the field with the other kids his age - later we found out they all discovered the table full of chocolate and candy before any adult could stop them!! I did stand up at one point, to take a few moments at the podium myself. It wasn't planned at all but I was inspired and so shared a few of my own Nancy anecdotes. One of which was during an afternoon of play in front of the house in Paradise with us kids enjoying the big dirt pile which was there due to some construction. I may have been around 5, I'm guessing. I took my turn sliding down the dirt hill, only with a twist...face first...with my mouth open. I stood up at the bottom with a mouth full of dirt and a bit stunned. Nancy took one look at me and said "Wait! Don't move - I've gotta get my camera!" and so I waited, mouth full of dirt, for my Aunt Nancy to get her camera. She didn't take long and it's almost worth thanking her when you see the picture.
When the service concluded we all hung out a while amongst the trees and old friends. We ate and drank... some of us didn't eat but drank a lot ;) There was a line of photo boards hung for everyone's viewing delight, sneaking peaks into Nancy's life over the years. I spied myself, as well as my sister, mother and father, in several of them and smiled, pausing to take myself back to the moment of the snapshot, if I was able. I was entranced by many of the pictures of Nancy as a young woman, pictures I'd never seen before but now wanted to blow up, frame and hang in my home as a constant reminder of how one should live their life.
We ended up staying that night at Nancy's with Cathy and her husband, my cousin Matt and his wife and son. The house, as it was when Nancy lived there, has already begun being emptied and dismantled, a sucky task children are handed when a parent dies. I'm not sure what is to come of the house but hopefully it will remain in the family. I wish at times Tony & I could buy it and live there, raise our children in Paradise in the home most closely defining my own childhood home as any other...since there are no others. Alas, Tony and I are hard pressed enough to leave San Francisco for Marin, let alone all the way up to sleepy Paradise. It is wonderful to visit but my life just isn't there anymore. That evening there was a private reception at the house and I drank more, as did everyone. It was tough being there, I kept thinking I saw Nancy in the crowd, out of the corner of my eye, out the opposite door of the room I just entered. In a way she was and always will be. Sitting here now it's as if she's still up there at her house in Paradise...or perhaps just off on one of her many worldly adventures, hiking the Swiss Alps, kayaking some lake of the world, bicycling through France or Ireland, camping in Mt. Lassen, checking out wildlife in Alaska... I think that's just how I will imagine her now, not gone, but everywhere.
The drive up to Paradise had its bumps, like Tony forgetting his wallet and realizing it after we'd already crossed the Bay Bridge so we had to turn around and go home for it. Talk about furious - me that is, although maybe him too after reading that I shared his memory lapse with the world! It got pretty heated in the car, from my seat, for the drive back home but then I took some deep breaths and told Tony that despite the fact that I was truly irritated about the wallet, the greater issue was that I didn't have a hold on my emotional state in anticipation of my aunt's memorial the next day. Big surprise...in that I was acting like a total bitch all morning, but not considering my loss. I've found in relationships - not just marriage - that as often as you think the other person should know exactly how you are feeling and therefore know exactly what you need that just isn't usually the case. And we always seem to get bent at the other person, in awe that they can't read our minds and don't have our personal instruction manual memorized so they can do exactly the right thing at the right time. So I had to lay it out for Tony, that I was hurting and freaking out and needed some extra love, support and understanding. It's a hard time for everyone involved.
Before too many miles passed I was feeling better and over the wallet snafu...maybe I was just distracted by the dissatisfaction of being in the car seat my daughter was now expressing at full volume. I wedged myself between the two car seats in the back seat, hoped for no sudden stops that would send me jettisoning out the car through the front windshield and paid some extra attention to Teagan trying to soothe her. We eventually pulled into the parking lot of the Sierra Nevada Brewery in Chico where we'd bought tickets for an Oktoberfest but then realized it was a strict 21+ event so had some half-baked plan to enjoy it in shifts while the other parent hung out with the kiddlings in the taproom restaurant. Yeah, exactly, didn't sound too fun. Lucky for us a couple friends were actually at the bar debating whether to buy tickets to the event so after telling them our sob story they bought them off us. So we enjoyed a family dinner & brews in the taproom restaurant, lamenting over the missed Oktoberfest but chocking it up to one of those parental sacrifices, and being ok with it. We checked into our hotel in Paradise around 9 and after a very frustrating face washing session (there was a friggin' kitchen sink faucet where the bathroom faucet should be, allowing only an inch of clearance from the flow of water to the edge of the sink!!) Tony & I each settled into our respective double beds with our respective child to sleep with.
Morning didn't come soon enough as I woke repeatedly from dreams I can't now recall and a living nightmare of Tyler rolling off his spot in bed with Tony and waking us all up crying. Poor guy. Thankfully he was ok, not like when he pulled the same stunt in a Hawaii hotel room last year and chipped his front tooth slightly! Makes me feel like we need to travel with bed railings! Anxious for a nice hot shower to wash away the bad night and prepare me for the emotional roller coaster the day would surely bring, my hopes were quickly dashed when I turned on the hot water and an abstract flow of fizz came out! The kind that is so thin, meaning there's so little water coming out I'd have never been able to wash my hair because it would take an hour just to get it all wet, then another to rinse the shampoo and another to rinse the conditioner. Then again, the water that was coming out had such force it practically stung. So bizarre. I didn't even turn on the cold water, I like my showers really hot and the water was definitely hot but there was so little of it. Maybe if I'd turned on the cold there would be more flow, but I settled for heat over quantity since I didn't have to wash my hair- thank god! I just stood there after washing my face & bod, arms folded in an X over my chest, hands in fists up under my chin, shoulders shrugged high, eyes closed, breathing deep and slow to relax my mind despite my tense body. I didn't want to get out even though it was truly the second worst shower I've ever had. I allowed myself a moment to recall THE worst shower ever...in a very cheap hotel in Rome which was the first stop with my best friend Dan on our little Euro trip of 1997. After stepping off the train from the airport, having no plans about where we were staying, we allowed a "Tourist Advisor" (who clearly worked for or was getting kick backs from the hotel we ended up at) to lead us to a place in our budget. Our budget was a joke as we had gotten the dirtiest dirt cheap airfare and could only make the trip happen on a shoestring given our ripe young ages of 22. The bathroom was down the hall and had to be shared with the other few rooms on the floor, although I don't recall seeing many other guests. The shower was like 2ft square, no kidding, with some rinky-dink plastic sliding doors that didn't actually slide since they were broken. There was some 1ft square hot water heated bolted to the wall above the shower and a pipe running down to the joke shower head that would hiss as it sprayed out water that felt like it was boiled on the sun...or maybe that was the hiss of my skin sizzling as the droplets of scalding hot water hit it. There was only boiling hot water or ice cold water, nothing in between, and regardless of the temp it only came out in that thin horrid spray. Cold water can burn too, esp. when the bathroom temp is below freezing also since it was January. I remember crying in the shower, trying to find peace with the water. There was no shelf to put your toiletries so you had to bend over to get them off the floor which you had to stand on in an awkward foot position as to avoid the nasty long hairs and curly hairs that were there when you stepped in but didn't have enough water pressure to wash away. Then of course you bumped your bum into the plastic door when you bent over which was cold and you swore would give you some sort of cootie from touching it. I remember hurrying back to our room wrapped in my towel, freezing and crying and warning Dan of the adventure awaiting him! Thankfully we only stayed there a few nights, although I wonder why we even stayed that long!
After getting coffee and a bagel with cream cheese to go at the little shop across from our hotel we headed up Skyway to the memorial location. As the narrow, windy road led us through the tall pines, I drank in the scenery that was like an old friend and imagined Nancy driving this road and loving the beauty and nature she lived in. There were memories for me every mile of the way, parks where my friends & I would hang out during lunch in high school, corner stores that were known to sell cigarettes to minors (I never smoked but some of my friends did), the 24hr cafe we would all hang out in after partying Friday or Saturday nights, the walking path I ran on to lose all my high school fat, etc. Of course those were just the high school memories and there were so many more since I'd been coming to Paradise since I was born to visit with my Uncle Chris & Aunt Nancy and their kids Matt & Julie. We turned down the rocky dirt road to Meadowbrook Ranch once we were north of town a ways, parked in the gravel lot and before we left the car I double checked that I had a new pack of tissues in the front pocket of the ergo carrier that I'd just loaded Teagan into. As we walked along the gravel path shaded by pines and surrounded by bushes of all sorts I could hear the faint sound of music and people's voices ahead, perhaps an Irish tune, very light and tinkly, the vibe emanating from both music and guests was of cheer. I walked slowly, enjoying the crunchy sound the gravel made under my feet, not in any rush to get to my destination, Tony & Tyler trailing behind me as Tyler drank in the nature so alien to him growing up in a concrete jungle. Suddenly at the end of the path ahead, not 40ft away, my cousin Matt appeared talking to someone who must have been an event worker. I wasn't sure if he saw me, I didn't wave, in fact I stopped in my tracks and turned around to face Tony &Tyler, sobbing and shaking suddenly. Tony either didn't know what to do for me or just didn't notice the frozen, scared, hurting state I was in. So without Tony rushing to hold and comfort me I got a grip quickly, turned back around and continued walking to the end of the path where tables were set up with food & flowers and people were mingling, hugging and catching up. A little girl I didn't recognize greeted us and pointed to a table for coffee and hot cocoa and another where we could sign a guestbook. Bypassing the hot liquids station we got in a short line of people waiting to sign the guestbook. There were also programs laid out on the same table, right at my fingertips now, announcing "Celebration of Life. Nancy Lynn Prestopino. December 13, 1943 - September 3, 2011." I picked one up and only half saw through the tears welling up and blurring my vision that old familiar infectious smile on Nancy's glowing face as she stood with the sun shining down on her scarf covered head, surrounded by gorgeous purple wisteria, her love of life absolutely beaming off the page. I heard a voice, my own, murmering "I can't do this" and shaking my head I walked into the field of wet, green grass where rows of chairs were set up, removed a tissue from my pocket and wiped away the tears streaking my face. I don't know if Tony signed the guest book, I never did, I had no idea what to say, there were no words, my signature was the absence of it. I'm sure Matt & Julie would understand.
I straightened myself up again just in time for another break of the dam, this time for Nancy's cousin Cathy, another non-blood relative of mine that shares a place in my heart and memories. We hugged a long time and then she put the long stem of a big, yellow-purple Dahlia in a utility loop of the ergo carrier on my left shoulder, her gestures and words of pleasure having perfectly adorned me with the flower reminding me so much of Nancy that the tears started all over again. Dahlias must have been my aunt's favorite flower, unless they were just what was in bloom and in abundance at the flower market that morning, for they were the event flower appearing everywhere and in every size and color. Even the port-a-potty was decorated with them - the little project Cathy was finishing up when I found her. Only at Nancy's memorial. Once the hundred or so of us were seated, the warm sun on our faces and the dew drying on the oak leaves, we heard the hauntingly beautiful sound of bagpipes as the solo bagpiper, dressed complete in a kilt, emerged moments after the sound of his pipes had begun in the distance, Amazing Grace bringing us all instantly to tears.
The next few hours flew by in a haze of tears, laughter, warmth, sorrow and resolve. Listening to Nancy's children tell the story of her life, some of which I knew and some I didn't, was like recalling a great movie. What a life! What a human being! Listening to guests recall stories of Nancy's antics, sense of humor, love of life and nature, grace and spirit were nothing short of 'wonderful' - a word Nancy used all the time. I can't even begin to recount all that I heard, learned and remembered from those few hours of the celebration of life. I cried a lot. Thankfully Teagan stayed asleep in the ergo carrier even though I stayed sitting down. Tony, dressed so handsomely in his suit, took care of watching out for Tyler who was running all over the field with the other kids his age - later we found out they all discovered the table full of chocolate and candy before any adult could stop them!! I did stand up at one point, to take a few moments at the podium myself. It wasn't planned at all but I was inspired and so shared a few of my own Nancy anecdotes. One of which was during an afternoon of play in front of the house in Paradise with us kids enjoying the big dirt pile which was there due to some construction. I may have been around 5, I'm guessing. I took my turn sliding down the dirt hill, only with a twist...face first...with my mouth open. I stood up at the bottom with a mouth full of dirt and a bit stunned. Nancy took one look at me and said "Wait! Don't move - I've gotta get my camera!" and so I waited, mouth full of dirt, for my Aunt Nancy to get her camera. She didn't take long and it's almost worth thanking her when you see the picture.
When the service concluded we all hung out a while amongst the trees and old friends. We ate and drank... some of us didn't eat but drank a lot ;) There was a line of photo boards hung for everyone's viewing delight, sneaking peaks into Nancy's life over the years. I spied myself, as well as my sister, mother and father, in several of them and smiled, pausing to take myself back to the moment of the snapshot, if I was able. I was entranced by many of the pictures of Nancy as a young woman, pictures I'd never seen before but now wanted to blow up, frame and hang in my home as a constant reminder of how one should live their life.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
relampago
relámpago [ray-lahm’-pah-go]
noun
1. Flash of lightning, meteor. (m)
2. Anything passing as suddenly as a flash of lightning. (m)
3. Thought or idea flashing upon the mind; ingenious witticism. (m)
4. Blemish in the eyes of horses. (m)
i don't have a serious, related topic for the above spanish word translated to english meaning, but it was on the matchbook that i used to light the fall colored/scented candles in the house this evening and i thought it would be fun to use in my blog. the image on the matchbook is of a german sheppard. other than the fact that we were in Mexico two weeks ago (blog STILL in process...or maybe stalled forever!) i have no idea how this piece made it to my desk. i know i didn't pick it up, maybe tony did. i used to collect matches, i suppose i could add it to my collection...although first i'd have to find my collection. geez, i know i've got a bunch of stuff down at my dad's in his little side storage area at his house. in fact, i need to go down there soon and retrieve the boxes of my journals. if they burn or are otherwise destroyed by water damage or animal...damage...i'd rather it be on my time and my property. i'm sure my dad would be plenty happy to have his eldest daughter empty out all the crap she's got stored at his place!! and my husband not so happy to adopt all the crap i can't see fit to get rid of! hahaha! but then, he shouldn't be too worried considering my mental state these days which is that of "out with the old, in with the new" and there's not really any 'new' so much is there is 'old'.
i was talking last blog about Halloween and not being really into it, then an interesting and very unexpected thing happened. it rained. anyone who knows me knows i LOVE the rain, love the overcast day, love the clouds and the cool but esp love the rain. well, we had our first good rain of the season the last few days, starting during my last blog which is when i was battling a downward spiral and then again last night. i was up watching "Premonition" with Sandra Bullock from Netflix (my piece of shit dvd player crapped out on me in the last 30 minutes of the movie so i have no idea how it ended!!!) after putting the kiddlings to bed and texting tony who was in LA at the Jane's Addiction concert. that's when i heard it, the raindrops on the awning of our back porch, the sound of wet street as tires drove passed our house. these used to be sounds that calmed me, put a smile on my face, eased tension, etc. suddenly it was as if there was a serial killer outside my house, peaking in the windows, tapping on the door. yes, i was just about that scared, but of course in a different way. i didn't fear for my life at the moment, i just feared for my life in the sense of my mental state. i was being flooded with images of years passed, memories of rainy nights in paradise, rainy days in san francisco when i lived on bush street downtown. they all had one thing in common, they were times when i wasn't doing so well. the funny thing is that the rain used to bring me solace. i was wrapped warm in a blanket from the sound of the rain on the roof, my troubles washed clear, or at least salved, by the smell of the rain on the ground & in the trees. but suddenly now it was the opposite. i wanted to run and hide from it, pull the covers over my head in bed to drown out the noise. i tried to get a grip, acknowledged it was *only rain* and not all the negative memories flooding back on me. funny how that is, that what used to represent such comfort would now represent fear. it wasn't too hard to decipher what was going on. i've always loved rain but in times of turmoil it stood for an extra distraction. now i realize it was just that, a distraction from whatever issues i was going through, and there was always something. not that i'm a black cloud person - the people i give that name i feel are always ridden with bad luck and drama, and sadly they usually bring it upon themselves. no this is just my chemical imbalance combined with lack of ideal life choices or just life's bumpy road realities. so the rain was something to rejoice in, it gave my cloudy day a feathery, sparkly head piece. i'm not a big sun person because my skin is so fair and i can't tolerate the heat so i like clouds, cool and rain. plus the sun is just too friggin...sunny and happy!
so it was the rain and it is also October and the season and holiday. it's just like the R.E.M. song says "another prop, to occupy my time, this one goes out to the one i love." it was all just props, the rain, fall, the leaves, the cold, Halloween, the holidays upon us, etc. etc. etc. all just distracting the disappointments i had in life. but now suddenly that i've slayed all my demons and life is good the very things that used to make me feel better were suddenly doing the opposite. i have an absolute fear of opening up the Halloween boxes in the garage. this time last year my house was decorated to the hilt with Halloween stuff, fall colors & leaves, etc. now i just want it to stay the way it is. ok, i take that back, i actually bought a few pumpkins at safeway yesterday and i bought a little trio of Halloween metal tea light deco holders (a pumpkin, a frankenstein & a RIP headstone) from target for $2 that i put out. and i'm happy with just that. i'm sure tony is more than happy with JUST that, he's gotta be elated considering all the Halloween stuff i have. seems i used to use all that stuff to cover up what was wrong, try to surround myself with all this stuff i "loved" to distract me but now there's nothing to distract. so the distraction has become the enemy. what a crazy world! the sound that normally soothed me suddenly drove me into bed pulling the covers over my ears. so "perfect" that i was solo i the house & feeling so solitary. we're all born into this world alone and we die alone and in between we like to think we share our lives, and to some extend we do, but really we are always alone.
i put in a call to my therapist for an emergency appointment today as i rcvd text updates from tony at LAX about flights he was able to jump on but then delayed due to rain - so ironic!! after skyping with my sister and sharing with her my crisis and then hearing her take on it, which was what i'd thought as well, i found it less critical to see my therapist and therefore easier to get through the day. and here i am 24 hours later feeling a lot better - although the rain has stopped so it's easier to manage the stress it was causing without its presence. now wearing pink papaya enzyme mask to detoxify skin and reveal radiant glowing face after texting with bestie who is facial beautifying herself at home right now also as her 2 1/2 yr old and hubby are in dream land just as my clan are. gotta stay on top of our regime. men just don't get it, they don't have to, and they'd actually probably love us even if we didn't care either. but the truth is we do so we take the extra measures to stay looking hot, young, supple, happy and queen-like as we rule our castles. that way we know our kings, our servants, our children will all still look to us in awe of all we do, all we accomplish, and with beauty and grace. but little do they even know what we really do, what we really go through. such a facade. if only the roles could be reversed for a year, oh how the men would look at us differently. some of us are lucky, i feel i'm appreciated, respected, honored and adored for who and what i am, to this world and to my family. although there are days when it sure doesn't feel like it!! alas, still, our internal struggles reign. i don't look as good as i'd like to look (i.e. i haven't lost the baby weight) and these damned kids keep changing on me, just when i master the phase they're in and i look like the poster mom of having it under control they go and change it on me!!! fuckers! it's like, just because i have a "new baby" doesn't mean my current toddler isn't "new" also!! everyday is something new! this is the hardest job i've ever had...and it's also the most rewarding job. but boy oh boy, no amount of on-the-job-training or reading up or anything that prepares you!
so my mom was here for a little over 24 hours this weekend...just as she arrived we discovered tyler fast asleep in the living room standing up, laying his head on his arms on the ottoman. too funny. although not funny at all once he woke up...bawling! and that wasn't something that gramma coco was going to be able to soothe as long as i was around. so i found myself on the couch cradling tyler who kept up a gurgling sob for a lot longer than i expected as my mom read some books aloud on the other side of the couch trying to coax him out of his state. i found myself feeling irritated as i looked at the clock and imagining the nail salon not staying open past 5 o'clock and my hopes of a much needed pedicure being dashed. then i realized how silly i was being, as the comfort i was giving my son so outweighed the need for a pedicure. alas i was relieved, sad to say, when tyler was happy to transfer over to coco's lap for the book and i could jam out for my bit of beautifying relaxation. there was no one in the salon when i arrived and i was afraid they were about to close and i'd be their last customer so i hoped they wouldn't rush through my service. but as i sat in one of their brand spanking new massage chairs (!!!) as the lady worked on my feet, all the other chairs filled up! the first of which by my neighbor's girlfriend with her tight booty, who they sat just to my left. we said friendly hi's to each other and then nothing. i wondered as i sat there if i should say something and what or if she would and what and if she was thinking the same thing but neither of us ever said anything!! i gave myself mini headaches facing forward but glancing as far to the left as my eyes would go to check out her feet, noticing she doesn't shave them and that she has really long toes. did she check out mine? i had a dark teal polish on before and now that the polish was off my nails were looking rather deathly and gross, did she think i had some kind of fungus? was she even looking? i looked down at my momma belly-roll jiggling & shaking as the massage chair worked on my back muscles. i eyed the lady who had been there when i walked in who was letting her pedi dry, noticing her taught thin body but who was fussing far too much with her long, dark mane...finger comb to the left, to the right, tuck behind the ears, untuck, tousle, back to the left...it gave me some solace knowing she must be as self-conscious as me or just have some nervous affliction with her hair. i left with the perfect fall pedicure color, a solid brown fairly matte but with a copper undertone that let through a shine & pop that gave a "come snuggle with me by the fire" kinda look which was both sexy and smart.
the next day i took the opportunity to run some errands alone since my mom was still there as tony was still on his motorcycle trip. i can't even explain the elation i felt as i stepped out of my vehicle in the parking lot and walked toward the store with no children in tow, on my person or otherwise in my care! it was like i was a free woman and i practically did a hop-skip-heel-click-in-the-air dance as i made my way into Carter's... but of course my errands weren't about me, nothing is anymore! as i shopped for exchanges & drooled over all the adorable girl stuff a woman walked by me with a newborn in her arms, couldn't have been over 1 month old and i just stopped and stared...my eyebrows raised in that "awe" expression, my jaw hanging open. what a precious, tiny little baby! wait, what the fuck was going on? is it possible to have baby fever, baby envy, when you still have a little baby at home yourself?! all the clothes i looked at i would pick up in the newborn size and "awe" at audibly as if i didn't even have my own little baby at home. i just couldn't believe my second was now bigger than that. is it too soon to start trying for a third????!!!! somebody slap me!
my solo adventure continued into target where i repeatedly said to myself, out loud, "you've gotta get out of here!" as i loaded up my basket with affordable new fall clothes that fit into my new image of chic post-depressive-freak Tiffany. i even found a pair of Missoni for Target pumps for $39 which i swear i worshipped for their look and not just their label...but come on, Missoni?! and they went so perfectly with my new fall look!! ok now where am i going to wear them?... i'm sure i'll figure that out. i tried to maintain my composure at the check- out as my goods were rung up. i decided to have everything separated - one total for kids stuff, one total for my stuff and one total for household stuff. that way i could easily say to tony what i spent on what. first swipe of the new debit card tony gave me went smooth as was for the kids stuff, then came the household stuff which was around $20 and the little machine gave me a rejection notice :( ok, that's fine, tony is only loading it a small sum at a time and once i spend that it's gone until he refills it. so i whip out my credit card for that ring and then when the ring for MY stuff comes along i hand over some cash from birthday presents earlier this year as well as a smidge on the credit card and suddenly i'm feeling totally like a Target customer. OMG how far have i fallen?! i held my head high, grabbed my bags and walked out. fuck it, i know i haven't really fallen, but why does it feel like it? ugh. as i climbed into my BMW X3 i just had to utter, whatever, to myself.
i finally finished and mailed out Teagan's birth announcements. Geezuz, finally! i hope people receive them and feel the love with which i made them. it struck me as i was finishing them that maybe some people might think we couldn't afford to do "professional" announcements. as i was up late glueing the other night tony said "wow, maybe we really should have just ordered professional announcements" but the truth is i really enjoyed doing them and really wanted them to have a homemade look and feel. i felt so proud of my little girl as i put all the completed envelopes in the mailbox. it wasn't about me, it was about her.
it's so late and i need to go to bed. i can't even imagine how my friend with a 4 month old who eats every 2 hours around the clock is still functioning!! last night was a nightmare with tyler waking up and crying out for me every few hours and teagan not sleeping well at all herself, and of course tony wasn't home. today i've been exhausted...altho tony came home in the afternoon and i was able to take a wonderful nap and here i am now staying up late catching up on my blog. i'll probably pay for it tomorrow. such a friggin' repetitious circle. not that i would change it for the world.
noun
1. Flash of lightning, meteor. (m)
2. Anything passing as suddenly as a flash of lightning. (m)
3. Thought or idea flashing upon the mind; ingenious witticism. (m)
4. Blemish in the eyes of horses. (m)
i don't have a serious, related topic for the above spanish word translated to english meaning, but it was on the matchbook that i used to light the fall colored/scented candles in the house this evening and i thought it would be fun to use in my blog. the image on the matchbook is of a german sheppard. other than the fact that we were in Mexico two weeks ago (blog STILL in process...or maybe stalled forever!) i have no idea how this piece made it to my desk. i know i didn't pick it up, maybe tony did. i used to collect matches, i suppose i could add it to my collection...although first i'd have to find my collection. geez, i know i've got a bunch of stuff down at my dad's in his little side storage area at his house. in fact, i need to go down there soon and retrieve the boxes of my journals. if they burn or are otherwise destroyed by water damage or animal...damage...i'd rather it be on my time and my property. i'm sure my dad would be plenty happy to have his eldest daughter empty out all the crap she's got stored at his place!! and my husband not so happy to adopt all the crap i can't see fit to get rid of! hahaha! but then, he shouldn't be too worried considering my mental state these days which is that of "out with the old, in with the new" and there's not really any 'new' so much is there is 'old'.
i was talking last blog about Halloween and not being really into it, then an interesting and very unexpected thing happened. it rained. anyone who knows me knows i LOVE the rain, love the overcast day, love the clouds and the cool but esp love the rain. well, we had our first good rain of the season the last few days, starting during my last blog which is when i was battling a downward spiral and then again last night. i was up watching "Premonition" with Sandra Bullock from Netflix (my piece of shit dvd player crapped out on me in the last 30 minutes of the movie so i have no idea how it ended!!!) after putting the kiddlings to bed and texting tony who was in LA at the Jane's Addiction concert. that's when i heard it, the raindrops on the awning of our back porch, the sound of wet street as tires drove passed our house. these used to be sounds that calmed me, put a smile on my face, eased tension, etc. suddenly it was as if there was a serial killer outside my house, peaking in the windows, tapping on the door. yes, i was just about that scared, but of course in a different way. i didn't fear for my life at the moment, i just feared for my life in the sense of my mental state. i was being flooded with images of years passed, memories of rainy nights in paradise, rainy days in san francisco when i lived on bush street downtown. they all had one thing in common, they were times when i wasn't doing so well. the funny thing is that the rain used to bring me solace. i was wrapped warm in a blanket from the sound of the rain on the roof, my troubles washed clear, or at least salved, by the smell of the rain on the ground & in the trees. but suddenly now it was the opposite. i wanted to run and hide from it, pull the covers over my head in bed to drown out the noise. i tried to get a grip, acknowledged it was *only rain* and not all the negative memories flooding back on me. funny how that is, that what used to represent such comfort would now represent fear. it wasn't too hard to decipher what was going on. i've always loved rain but in times of turmoil it stood for an extra distraction. now i realize it was just that, a distraction from whatever issues i was going through, and there was always something. not that i'm a black cloud person - the people i give that name i feel are always ridden with bad luck and drama, and sadly they usually bring it upon themselves. no this is just my chemical imbalance combined with lack of ideal life choices or just life's bumpy road realities. so the rain was something to rejoice in, it gave my cloudy day a feathery, sparkly head piece. i'm not a big sun person because my skin is so fair and i can't tolerate the heat so i like clouds, cool and rain. plus the sun is just too friggin...sunny and happy!
so it was the rain and it is also October and the season and holiday. it's just like the R.E.M. song says "another prop, to occupy my time, this one goes out to the one i love." it was all just props, the rain, fall, the leaves, the cold, Halloween, the holidays upon us, etc. etc. etc. all just distracting the disappointments i had in life. but now suddenly that i've slayed all my demons and life is good the very things that used to make me feel better were suddenly doing the opposite. i have an absolute fear of opening up the Halloween boxes in the garage. this time last year my house was decorated to the hilt with Halloween stuff, fall colors & leaves, etc. now i just want it to stay the way it is. ok, i take that back, i actually bought a few pumpkins at safeway yesterday and i bought a little trio of Halloween metal tea light deco holders (a pumpkin, a frankenstein & a RIP headstone) from target for $2 that i put out. and i'm happy with just that. i'm sure tony is more than happy with JUST that, he's gotta be elated considering all the Halloween stuff i have. seems i used to use all that stuff to cover up what was wrong, try to surround myself with all this stuff i "loved" to distract me but now there's nothing to distract. so the distraction has become the enemy. what a crazy world! the sound that normally soothed me suddenly drove me into bed pulling the covers over my ears. so "perfect" that i was solo i the house & feeling so solitary. we're all born into this world alone and we die alone and in between we like to think we share our lives, and to some extend we do, but really we are always alone.
i put in a call to my therapist for an emergency appointment today as i rcvd text updates from tony at LAX about flights he was able to jump on but then delayed due to rain - so ironic!! after skyping with my sister and sharing with her my crisis and then hearing her take on it, which was what i'd thought as well, i found it less critical to see my therapist and therefore easier to get through the day. and here i am 24 hours later feeling a lot better - although the rain has stopped so it's easier to manage the stress it was causing without its presence. now wearing pink papaya enzyme mask to detoxify skin and reveal radiant glowing face after texting with bestie who is facial beautifying herself at home right now also as her 2 1/2 yr old and hubby are in dream land just as my clan are. gotta stay on top of our regime. men just don't get it, they don't have to, and they'd actually probably love us even if we didn't care either. but the truth is we do so we take the extra measures to stay looking hot, young, supple, happy and queen-like as we rule our castles. that way we know our kings, our servants, our children will all still look to us in awe of all we do, all we accomplish, and with beauty and grace. but little do they even know what we really do, what we really go through. such a facade. if only the roles could be reversed for a year, oh how the men would look at us differently. some of us are lucky, i feel i'm appreciated, respected, honored and adored for who and what i am, to this world and to my family. although there are days when it sure doesn't feel like it!! alas, still, our internal struggles reign. i don't look as good as i'd like to look (i.e. i haven't lost the baby weight) and these damned kids keep changing on me, just when i master the phase they're in and i look like the poster mom of having it under control they go and change it on me!!! fuckers! it's like, just because i have a "new baby" doesn't mean my current toddler isn't "new" also!! everyday is something new! this is the hardest job i've ever had...and it's also the most rewarding job. but boy oh boy, no amount of on-the-job-training or reading up or anything that prepares you!
so my mom was here for a little over 24 hours this weekend...just as she arrived we discovered tyler fast asleep in the living room standing up, laying his head on his arms on the ottoman. too funny. although not funny at all once he woke up...bawling! and that wasn't something that gramma coco was going to be able to soothe as long as i was around. so i found myself on the couch cradling tyler who kept up a gurgling sob for a lot longer than i expected as my mom read some books aloud on the other side of the couch trying to coax him out of his state. i found myself feeling irritated as i looked at the clock and imagining the nail salon not staying open past 5 o'clock and my hopes of a much needed pedicure being dashed. then i realized how silly i was being, as the comfort i was giving my son so outweighed the need for a pedicure. alas i was relieved, sad to say, when tyler was happy to transfer over to coco's lap for the book and i could jam out for my bit of beautifying relaxation. there was no one in the salon when i arrived and i was afraid they were about to close and i'd be their last customer so i hoped they wouldn't rush through my service. but as i sat in one of their brand spanking new massage chairs (!!!) as the lady worked on my feet, all the other chairs filled up! the first of which by my neighbor's girlfriend with her tight booty, who they sat just to my left. we said friendly hi's to each other and then nothing. i wondered as i sat there if i should say something and what or if she would and what and if she was thinking the same thing but neither of us ever said anything!! i gave myself mini headaches facing forward but glancing as far to the left as my eyes would go to check out her feet, noticing she doesn't shave them and that she has really long toes. did she check out mine? i had a dark teal polish on before and now that the polish was off my nails were looking rather deathly and gross, did she think i had some kind of fungus? was she even looking? i looked down at my momma belly-roll jiggling & shaking as the massage chair worked on my back muscles. i eyed the lady who had been there when i walked in who was letting her pedi dry, noticing her taught thin body but who was fussing far too much with her long, dark mane...finger comb to the left, to the right, tuck behind the ears, untuck, tousle, back to the left...it gave me some solace knowing she must be as self-conscious as me or just have some nervous affliction with her hair. i left with the perfect fall pedicure color, a solid brown fairly matte but with a copper undertone that let through a shine & pop that gave a "come snuggle with me by the fire" kinda look which was both sexy and smart.
the next day i took the opportunity to run some errands alone since my mom was still there as tony was still on his motorcycle trip. i can't even explain the elation i felt as i stepped out of my vehicle in the parking lot and walked toward the store with no children in tow, on my person or otherwise in my care! it was like i was a free woman and i practically did a hop-skip-heel-click-in-the-air dance as i made my way into Carter's... but of course my errands weren't about me, nothing is anymore! as i shopped for exchanges & drooled over all the adorable girl stuff a woman walked by me with a newborn in her arms, couldn't have been over 1 month old and i just stopped and stared...my eyebrows raised in that "awe" expression, my jaw hanging open. what a precious, tiny little baby! wait, what the fuck was going on? is it possible to have baby fever, baby envy, when you still have a little baby at home yourself?! all the clothes i looked at i would pick up in the newborn size and "awe" at audibly as if i didn't even have my own little baby at home. i just couldn't believe my second was now bigger than that. is it too soon to start trying for a third????!!!! somebody slap me!
my solo adventure continued into target where i repeatedly said to myself, out loud, "you've gotta get out of here!" as i loaded up my basket with affordable new fall clothes that fit into my new image of chic post-depressive-freak Tiffany. i even found a pair of Missoni for Target pumps for $39 which i swear i worshipped for their look and not just their label...but come on, Missoni?! and they went so perfectly with my new fall look!! ok now where am i going to wear them?... i'm sure i'll figure that out. i tried to maintain my composure at the check- out as my goods were rung up. i decided to have everything separated - one total for kids stuff, one total for my stuff and one total for household stuff. that way i could easily say to tony what i spent on what. first swipe of the new debit card tony gave me went smooth as was for the kids stuff, then came the household stuff which was around $20 and the little machine gave me a rejection notice :( ok, that's fine, tony is only loading it a small sum at a time and once i spend that it's gone until he refills it. so i whip out my credit card for that ring and then when the ring for MY stuff comes along i hand over some cash from birthday presents earlier this year as well as a smidge on the credit card and suddenly i'm feeling totally like a Target customer. OMG how far have i fallen?! i held my head high, grabbed my bags and walked out. fuck it, i know i haven't really fallen, but why does it feel like it? ugh. as i climbed into my BMW X3 i just had to utter, whatever, to myself.
i finally finished and mailed out Teagan's birth announcements. Geezuz, finally! i hope people receive them and feel the love with which i made them. it struck me as i was finishing them that maybe some people might think we couldn't afford to do "professional" announcements. as i was up late glueing the other night tony said "wow, maybe we really should have just ordered professional announcements" but the truth is i really enjoyed doing them and really wanted them to have a homemade look and feel. i felt so proud of my little girl as i put all the completed envelopes in the mailbox. it wasn't about me, it was about her.
it's so late and i need to go to bed. i can't even imagine how my friend with a 4 month old who eats every 2 hours around the clock is still functioning!! last night was a nightmare with tyler waking up and crying out for me every few hours and teagan not sleeping well at all herself, and of course tony wasn't home. today i've been exhausted...altho tony came home in the afternoon and i was able to take a wonderful nap and here i am now staying up late catching up on my blog. i'll probably pay for it tomorrow. such a friggin' repetitious circle. not that i would change it for the world.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
funny
funny how and when my black cloud wins the struggle and takes me over. these days i've been triumphing over the battle more often than not but it is still never that far from me. it acts more like a shadow now that i've slayed so many of my demons in therapy. today started out sunny and my shadow was well behind me but now that the afternoon has come, and the meteorologists are even predicting rain, it has turned overcast, literally & figuratively. what on earth was the trigger? i had some friends over for brunch and it was great to catch up and watch our little ones play. even after they left i was ok but it went downhill fast, like a mudslide.
if we'd been drinking mimosas maybe it would be more understandable - i never feel quite right in the afternoon after drinking champagne in the morning. but no. tyler instantly started bugging me. he wouldn't eat the broccoli quiche i made for brunch with the ulterior motive that i would get some of the veggie into him. in his defense it didn't turn out that great. maybe that's why i don't feel well, i haven't been eating much dairy in my quest to be vegan these days but i decided to partake this morning in the quiche. hmmm. then he pulled the dirty sheets out of the clothes hamper and started dragging them through the house. i demanded he put them back but he didn't and then i figured, well they're dirty anyway and he seems to be enjoying himself. then miz teagan was doing her "i wanna breastfeed, no i don't, yes i do, no i don't" game where she acts hungry, i whip out the boob, she diddles with it then takes a few pulls then pops off and acts like she can't find it again when it's right in front of her mouth, then repeat, over and over. man is it ever frustrating.
i finally settled her down in my arms, swaddled up like a little tamale, and there she snoozed as i perused facebook. maybe that was what did it. looking at pictures people had posted, feeling the angst rise inside me that i thought was gone, leaning in to scrutinize the photos sure i was seeing one of the reasons for the angst, then leaning back and wondering why i even give a shit. closing down my laptop to put teagan down in her bassinet upstairs the angst lingers. oh damn, i forgot to take my happy pills this morning, could that be why i'm feeling all debbie-downer? not likely.
maybe i'm just tired. tony has been away since thursday night after all. had a great night with an amazing friend over drinks into the wee hours after putting the kids down, but was so tired and yucky feeling the next day which is when this mood dip started i think. had to haul both kids to kaiser for back to back appointments. thank god, buddah, madonna or whoever i have such well behaved children, well tyler anyway - he wanted to bring some trains with him and was having trouble carrying the lot he picked so i got a little bag for him to carry them in...a blue Tiffany's bag! loved the reactions i got from people for that! he just played trains on the floor of the exam room as the dermatologist checked out all my moles. another holla out to whoever for a good mole report, even that one i deemed scary and melanoma for sure that i just discovered on the side of my left boob. nope, all good. BIG relief! then over to see my therapist where i almost had nothing to say...and that sucked. also i actually think i'm turning my joke into a prophecy and starting to develop a crush. but maybe it's just feeling grateful for all she's done to help me and for really liking who she is and feeling sad about not talking to her anymore. not that therapy is over, she assured me it's a gradual stopping process. she said i was doing great but did insist i get back into yoga, saying she saw the difference in me when i was doing it and can see it now that i'm not. she also forbade me from going to the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival that afternoon which i told her i was thinking of doing, packing up the stroller and some food, laying out a blanket and enjoying the music with the kids. but that was the joke, it wouldn't have been enjoyable at all...maybe. after telling her of the stressful weekend before in mexico (blog still in the process - maybe i'm just trying to forget about it and that's why i can't finish writing it!) and of the big day ahead saturday with back to back 3 year old's birthday parties she thought i was on crack for even considering going to the festival. yeah, i'm good for that, cracked out ideas that is. i wanted to see Chris Isaak, who i've never seen before, but ultimately i didn't go...because i was too pooped to pop after getting home. oh well. saturday wasn't as bad as i thought it could have been, mostly because teagan was having a good day and it wasn't too hot over in the valley. and it was great to see all my friends and their kids and show off teagan to those who hadn't yet met her. but it was a long day and i was very tired after putting tyler to bed. had to skip the bath again, sorry pal mom just doesn't have the energy so you're gonna have to live with the grit under your nails and dirty behind your ears another day :( somehow i don't think he minds too much.
so now i wait for gramma coco to come relieve me. she originally said she'd be here at 5 but i called her this morning to let her know she could come anytime...which basically meant Please Come As Soon As Possible I Need A Break! she told me she'd definitely be here before 5, not a problem. she's the most amazing gramma so i can't hardly complain but here it is 3:45 and no sign of coco. that's probably another reason for my ailing mood. so much on my list of things to get done but waiting for her to arrive to really start them. my fault, not hers. i have to finish teagan's birth announcements by the end of day tomorrow come hell or high water! my goal was end of September and here it is two days into October. crap, that reminds me i haven't gotten out my Halloween deco yet. ya know, i'm not even sure i will this year which just seems completely unlike me. alas, i'm just not feeling it. not that i'm all bah-humbug about it, but maybe it's like how i got rid of 75% of my clothes feeling like they just weren't me anymore. somehow i just don't feel like going buck wild decorating with plastic pumpkins, skeletons, black cats, etc. this year. i know tony will be plenty happy about that. actually i was thinking of getting it all out and purging a lot of it and then just decorating very simply. have i lost my zest for life? my spark? i don't really feel like i have, i'm just not suddenly delirious with excitement over the holiday or time of year. maybe it's that in years past i was always looking for that something to make my day better, brighter, funner, something to look forward to and then surround myself with and try to convince myself it made a difference. but it was just smoke & mirrors. it was just a distraction. not that i'm totally over the holidays, but since i'm in a better mental and emotional state there isn't such a need or craving for them. it will be interesting to see how it is next year, if this lasts.
oh hey, coco just arrived. SWEEEEEEEEEET! i'm going to go to the library and then get a pedicure!!!
peace out!
oh wow, i thought tyler was being awfully quite this whole time i was writing...i just found him asleep in the living room, standing up, resting his head on his arms on the ottoman!!! and yes, it has been documented photographically!!
if we'd been drinking mimosas maybe it would be more understandable - i never feel quite right in the afternoon after drinking champagne in the morning. but no. tyler instantly started bugging me. he wouldn't eat the broccoli quiche i made for brunch with the ulterior motive that i would get some of the veggie into him. in his defense it didn't turn out that great. maybe that's why i don't feel well, i haven't been eating much dairy in my quest to be vegan these days but i decided to partake this morning in the quiche. hmmm. then he pulled the dirty sheets out of the clothes hamper and started dragging them through the house. i demanded he put them back but he didn't and then i figured, well they're dirty anyway and he seems to be enjoying himself. then miz teagan was doing her "i wanna breastfeed, no i don't, yes i do, no i don't" game where she acts hungry, i whip out the boob, she diddles with it then takes a few pulls then pops off and acts like she can't find it again when it's right in front of her mouth, then repeat, over and over. man is it ever frustrating.
i finally settled her down in my arms, swaddled up like a little tamale, and there she snoozed as i perused facebook. maybe that was what did it. looking at pictures people had posted, feeling the angst rise inside me that i thought was gone, leaning in to scrutinize the photos sure i was seeing one of the reasons for the angst, then leaning back and wondering why i even give a shit. closing down my laptop to put teagan down in her bassinet upstairs the angst lingers. oh damn, i forgot to take my happy pills this morning, could that be why i'm feeling all debbie-downer? not likely.
maybe i'm just tired. tony has been away since thursday night after all. had a great night with an amazing friend over drinks into the wee hours after putting the kids down, but was so tired and yucky feeling the next day which is when this mood dip started i think. had to haul both kids to kaiser for back to back appointments. thank god, buddah, madonna or whoever i have such well behaved children, well tyler anyway - he wanted to bring some trains with him and was having trouble carrying the lot he picked so i got a little bag for him to carry them in...a blue Tiffany's bag! loved the reactions i got from people for that! he just played trains on the floor of the exam room as the dermatologist checked out all my moles. another holla out to whoever for a good mole report, even that one i deemed scary and melanoma for sure that i just discovered on the side of my left boob. nope, all good. BIG relief! then over to see my therapist where i almost had nothing to say...and that sucked. also i actually think i'm turning my joke into a prophecy and starting to develop a crush. but maybe it's just feeling grateful for all she's done to help me and for really liking who she is and feeling sad about not talking to her anymore. not that therapy is over, she assured me it's a gradual stopping process. she said i was doing great but did insist i get back into yoga, saying she saw the difference in me when i was doing it and can see it now that i'm not. she also forbade me from going to the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival that afternoon which i told her i was thinking of doing, packing up the stroller and some food, laying out a blanket and enjoying the music with the kids. but that was the joke, it wouldn't have been enjoyable at all...maybe. after telling her of the stressful weekend before in mexico (blog still in the process - maybe i'm just trying to forget about it and that's why i can't finish writing it!) and of the big day ahead saturday with back to back 3 year old's birthday parties she thought i was on crack for even considering going to the festival. yeah, i'm good for that, cracked out ideas that is. i wanted to see Chris Isaak, who i've never seen before, but ultimately i didn't go...because i was too pooped to pop after getting home. oh well. saturday wasn't as bad as i thought it could have been, mostly because teagan was having a good day and it wasn't too hot over in the valley. and it was great to see all my friends and their kids and show off teagan to those who hadn't yet met her. but it was a long day and i was very tired after putting tyler to bed. had to skip the bath again, sorry pal mom just doesn't have the energy so you're gonna have to live with the grit under your nails and dirty behind your ears another day :( somehow i don't think he minds too much.
so now i wait for gramma coco to come relieve me. she originally said she'd be here at 5 but i called her this morning to let her know she could come anytime...which basically meant Please Come As Soon As Possible I Need A Break! she told me she'd definitely be here before 5, not a problem. she's the most amazing gramma so i can't hardly complain but here it is 3:45 and no sign of coco. that's probably another reason for my ailing mood. so much on my list of things to get done but waiting for her to arrive to really start them. my fault, not hers. i have to finish teagan's birth announcements by the end of day tomorrow come hell or high water! my goal was end of September and here it is two days into October. crap, that reminds me i haven't gotten out my Halloween deco yet. ya know, i'm not even sure i will this year which just seems completely unlike me. alas, i'm just not feeling it. not that i'm all bah-humbug about it, but maybe it's like how i got rid of 75% of my clothes feeling like they just weren't me anymore. somehow i just don't feel like going buck wild decorating with plastic pumpkins, skeletons, black cats, etc. this year. i know tony will be plenty happy about that. actually i was thinking of getting it all out and purging a lot of it and then just decorating very simply. have i lost my zest for life? my spark? i don't really feel like i have, i'm just not suddenly delirious with excitement over the holiday or time of year. maybe it's that in years past i was always looking for that something to make my day better, brighter, funner, something to look forward to and then surround myself with and try to convince myself it made a difference. but it was just smoke & mirrors. it was just a distraction. not that i'm totally over the holidays, but since i'm in a better mental and emotional state there isn't such a need or craving for them. it will be interesting to see how it is next year, if this lasts.
oh hey, coco just arrived. SWEEEEEEEEEET! i'm going to go to the library and then get a pedicure!!!
peace out!
oh wow, i thought tyler was being awfully quite this whole time i was writing...i just found him asleep in the living room, standing up, resting his head on his arms on the ottoman!!! and yes, it has been documented photographically!!
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
beauty
as i listen to the Buena Vista Social Club on my ipod i grow more and more excited about our little family trip to mexico. sometimes i think i must have been a mexican socialite in my past life. i know, i don't believe in past lives. and i'm irish and italian, among other things, but mostly those two, so why do i identify with mexican? i don't know. the music just stirs something inside of me, it's like being home. whenever i visit mexico it feels so comfortable even though i don't speak the language. maybe i'm just having crazy dreams again, trying to make sense of little emotions that don't need to be tied to a larger meaning. sigh.
scattered around my desk here ("my desk" is just the desk in the guest room that i tend to scatter my shit on but which tony also scatters shit on! it faces the busy street but has a decent blocker of the big tree in front of our house so i don't feel totally like i'm in a fishbowl sitting here at night) are all the makings of Teagan's birth announcements. is there a statute of limitations for sending out birth announcements? i'll send one to people who have even met her already, it's just about officially welcoming our special addition. but i've gone totally crackhead on these announcements, handwriting, cutting out, gluing, etc. i wonder if some people won't just open them, smile, and toss it in the trash. that's fine. i mean, that's not my preference but it's the risk you take. i am putting a lot of love and heart into each of these announcements but that's what i want to do, i don't even consider there's another way. sometimes as i'm gluing or drawing i wonder if they won't be viewed as juvenile and then i say Fuck It, this is what i'm doing because it's what i want to do to announce my daughter and that's that. but dude, it's taking me a loooooong time!!! i have a deadline for myself to finish them by the end of September...oye!
i'm feeling totally great these days despite a mysterious pain in my right ear. i swear my therapist deserves the nobel peace prize! i told her in our last session that me & one of my besties sing the praises of our therapists when we get together for cat chat. i can imagine my friend & i parading down the city streets with our therapist up on some nobel carrying chair on our shoulders, the common folk tossing confetti our way. i was concerned that my last blog might sound like i had a crush on my therapist. well it's just about someone who has so hugely helped change my life and who i am so grateful to and admire. that being the case, so many musicians could be my therapists. Madonna. R.E.M. George Michael. Smashing Pumpkins. Sisters of Mercy. Depeche Mode. Hole. Judas Priest. Scorpions. The Smiths. Tori Amos. Candyskins. Talking Heads. The Doors. Arcade Fire. Concrete Blonde. The Eagles. Metallica. J.Lo. Peter Gabriel. INXS. OMG i could go on and on...
my best friend doesn't read my blog (because years ago when he was writing his own and i wasn't reading it we made a pact that we wouldn't question each other about our blogs...apparently at my request...but the thing was i already knew everything that was going on with him so to read his blog was just to reread what i already knew but in a sanitized version. the pact has stuck regardless.) and therefore assumes i'm bashing him in it but of course he's just joking and of course i'm not. bashing that is. i made him dinner tonight since i was home alone and we caught up on our lives, oh how the times have changed from when he finished grad school and moved to SF and shared my studio on Bush Street with me, sleeping on an air mattress on the floor. Oh the stories those walls could tell!! but that's all to be revealed in my memoir...someday. at the moment my other bestie (the female one) is supporting me, singing my praises & encouraging me on my writing ventures... regarding my memoirs or this blog or...there's so much in my head i want to put in print. but it takes time availability and coinciding creative inspirations. not always so easy to get all in line! but someday it will be.
tony & i have been having some date nights lately, at long last, with my mom coming up for the weekend and watching our cubs as we go out for drinks & dinner. one night we took the tandem out and that was awesome. feeling the air in my face, pumping my legs and feeling the blood flowing through my body, checking out the interiors of apts through lighted windows as we cruised by. i love that! seeing what color people have painted their rooms, what's on their walls, what they are willing the world to see through that main window to their world. of course i see it all in a few seconds only, trying to set it to memory if i like the wall color or some other design distinction. sigh...oh design and architecture, more of my loves...to design, build and decorate my own home. sure, add that to the list of things i want to do in my lifetime!!
it's funny how time changes things. on our last date night tony & i went to Hobson's Choice, a bar in the Haight that has punchbowls as their specialty but is generally an all around fun, crazy bar. It's on a corner and those two entire walls are windows so you can check out all the freaks walking by outside and believe me, there are plenty of them in the Haight! I have several memories from this place and was revisiting them all as i sat there waiting for Tony to go home and get the wallet he forgot! One was with my dad and a woman he was dating along with my sister and my ex boyfriend. Another is of my sister & i when an interesting guy hit on me that i later went on 1 date with. There was one my mom was in...that night ended ugly with me barfing off the curb outside Cha Cha Cha just down the street where I drank too much sangria after having too much punch at Hobsons'...yes, all with my mom. Oh no, she wasn't drinking! Hahahaha! We were just hanging out. God i love my mom. Someday i'll probably be watching tyler or teagan (or both) yacking in the corner of some public place after consuming too much alcohol. Sigh...isn't that all about growing up? Hmmm, maybe not. But it's my history, so there it is, and here i am. yah, gotta figure out the right approach with my kids when teaching about drugs & alcohol...thank god i've got a few years to refine that lecture!
whew the time just flies when i'm writing and i need to get the F to bed! kids do not care, nor do they even know, when you are less than rested and they need you. these days i pick and choose my late nights, balancing the risk of feeling like total crap with what i might accomplish by staying up late, be that just some personal enjoyment or actual productive work!
so off to bed i go...jeezuz i hope that's not teagan i hear crying upstairs. please please please no, for so many reasons. sigh.
word of the week is "beauty."
scattered around my desk here ("my desk" is just the desk in the guest room that i tend to scatter my shit on but which tony also scatters shit on! it faces the busy street but has a decent blocker of the big tree in front of our house so i don't feel totally like i'm in a fishbowl sitting here at night) are all the makings of Teagan's birth announcements. is there a statute of limitations for sending out birth announcements? i'll send one to people who have even met her already, it's just about officially welcoming our special addition. but i've gone totally crackhead on these announcements, handwriting, cutting out, gluing, etc. i wonder if some people won't just open them, smile, and toss it in the trash. that's fine. i mean, that's not my preference but it's the risk you take. i am putting a lot of love and heart into each of these announcements but that's what i want to do, i don't even consider there's another way. sometimes as i'm gluing or drawing i wonder if they won't be viewed as juvenile and then i say Fuck It, this is what i'm doing because it's what i want to do to announce my daughter and that's that. but dude, it's taking me a loooooong time!!! i have a deadline for myself to finish them by the end of September...oye!
i'm feeling totally great these days despite a mysterious pain in my right ear. i swear my therapist deserves the nobel peace prize! i told her in our last session that me & one of my besties sing the praises of our therapists when we get together for cat chat. i can imagine my friend & i parading down the city streets with our therapist up on some nobel carrying chair on our shoulders, the common folk tossing confetti our way. i was concerned that my last blog might sound like i had a crush on my therapist. well it's just about someone who has so hugely helped change my life and who i am so grateful to and admire. that being the case, so many musicians could be my therapists. Madonna. R.E.M. George Michael. Smashing Pumpkins. Sisters of Mercy. Depeche Mode. Hole. Judas Priest. Scorpions. The Smiths. Tori Amos. Candyskins. Talking Heads. The Doors. Arcade Fire. Concrete Blonde. The Eagles. Metallica. J.Lo. Peter Gabriel. INXS. OMG i could go on and on...
my best friend doesn't read my blog (because years ago when he was writing his own and i wasn't reading it we made a pact that we wouldn't question each other about our blogs...apparently at my request...but the thing was i already knew everything that was going on with him so to read his blog was just to reread what i already knew but in a sanitized version. the pact has stuck regardless.) and therefore assumes i'm bashing him in it but of course he's just joking and of course i'm not. bashing that is. i made him dinner tonight since i was home alone and we caught up on our lives, oh how the times have changed from when he finished grad school and moved to SF and shared my studio on Bush Street with me, sleeping on an air mattress on the floor. Oh the stories those walls could tell!! but that's all to be revealed in my memoir...someday. at the moment my other bestie (the female one) is supporting me, singing my praises & encouraging me on my writing ventures... regarding my memoirs or this blog or...there's so much in my head i want to put in print. but it takes time availability and coinciding creative inspirations. not always so easy to get all in line! but someday it will be.
tony & i have been having some date nights lately, at long last, with my mom coming up for the weekend and watching our cubs as we go out for drinks & dinner. one night we took the tandem out and that was awesome. feeling the air in my face, pumping my legs and feeling the blood flowing through my body, checking out the interiors of apts through lighted windows as we cruised by. i love that! seeing what color people have painted their rooms, what's on their walls, what they are willing the world to see through that main window to their world. of course i see it all in a few seconds only, trying to set it to memory if i like the wall color or some other design distinction. sigh...oh design and architecture, more of my loves...to design, build and decorate my own home. sure, add that to the list of things i want to do in my lifetime!!
it's funny how time changes things. on our last date night tony & i went to Hobson's Choice, a bar in the Haight that has punchbowls as their specialty but is generally an all around fun, crazy bar. It's on a corner and those two entire walls are windows so you can check out all the freaks walking by outside and believe me, there are plenty of them in the Haight! I have several memories from this place and was revisiting them all as i sat there waiting for Tony to go home and get the wallet he forgot! One was with my dad and a woman he was dating along with my sister and my ex boyfriend. Another is of my sister & i when an interesting guy hit on me that i later went on 1 date with. There was one my mom was in...that night ended ugly with me barfing off the curb outside Cha Cha Cha just down the street where I drank too much sangria after having too much punch at Hobsons'...yes, all with my mom. Oh no, she wasn't drinking! Hahahaha! We were just hanging out. God i love my mom. Someday i'll probably be watching tyler or teagan (or both) yacking in the corner of some public place after consuming too much alcohol. Sigh...isn't that all about growing up? Hmmm, maybe not. But it's my history, so there it is, and here i am. yah, gotta figure out the right approach with my kids when teaching about drugs & alcohol...thank god i've got a few years to refine that lecture!
whew the time just flies when i'm writing and i need to get the F to bed! kids do not care, nor do they even know, when you are less than rested and they need you. these days i pick and choose my late nights, balancing the risk of feeling like total crap with what i might accomplish by staying up late, be that just some personal enjoyment or actual productive work!
so off to bed i go...jeezuz i hope that's not teagan i hear crying upstairs. please please please no, for so many reasons. sigh.
word of the week is "beauty."
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Friday night thoughts
Ascending the stairs with my precious burrito baby held close to my chest, preceded by the Norch taking each stair with ownership, I feel a cat pass by me going down and note that it must be Mr. Rabbit as I can hear Georgia meowing up ahead, probably "leading" Boris up the darkened staircase. Georgia and Rabbit do not get along and do not share space well, not that Georgia and Boris get along at all either though. At the top of the stairs I push the door open to the right and with one hand fix the bassinet just inside the room before placing my sweet little package down in what I hope to be a warm, snug, safe place for her to rest. I call for Boris to follow me as I leave and say a silent prayer that the cats will leave my baby alone and not curl up with/on her for warmth. This whole parenting thing is just insanity. On the one hand it's not that difficult to keep these little humans alive, fed, nurtured, thriving, etc. On the other hand there is danger at every corner and it's just a fucking miracle that any, or most, of us make it through childhood!
It's Friday night and Tony has gone out with friends...who we just entertained in our entertaining kitchen for approx an hour before they kicked themselves out to what they intended to do. What do I care? Here I am just hanging out, another fun filled Friday night at home! Woo Hoo! But I say that in stupid humor, it doesn't really bother me. Thank god I partied my ASS off before having kids!! Now when it's Friday night Tony & I look at each other and go "Friday night!!!" but then are in bed by 9!! But I'm happy to be writing, it will equate to a productive night for me and really, how many of us have Productive Friday Nights after all?! :)
I guess that depends on what you call "productive."
So tonight we went to the Speakeasy brewery for "Firkin Friday" which is like a happy hour but at the brewery and kids are welcome. It's great for parents with new or little kids that just want to go out for a drink or two without getting a babysitter for the whole night. We've been going for at least a year now (not every Friday mind you) and love it - great beer at just $3 a pint and we can bring the cubs?! How can you lose?! Tonight there was this random little blond girl who couldn't have been more than 6 or 7 who was outside doing splits and then writing Kanji with her electric blue colored chalk all over the concrete. At first I didn't pay attention but then realized what she was doing and then couldn't take my eyes off her. I wondered what she was writing..."Barbie rules!" "Democracy is dead!" "I love ice cream!" A woman walked up to me and put her hand on Teagan's back through the Ergo carrier, almost as if she were putting her hand on my pregnant belly (no i'm not pregnant!), and said "This be Gram & Auntie singin' the church hymns on Sunday" and I was like ???? Then she had a little conversation with Teagan and pretended to hear Teagan telling her something to which she would not reveal to me. No, she wasn't wasted, she was happy & religious and it was sweet.
Next I was having a seat inside on a folding chair by the loading dock, bouncing as ever to keep Teagan happy, and trying to "feed her" the pacifier when this tall man stops as he's walking by, dressed in all black with a Speakeasy leather jacket, shorn hair and 3 large gauge hoop earrings in his left ear. "How old?" he asks me, to which I reply that she's going to be 3 months old next week. "Aaaawe, I have an 8 month old at home. She's so cute!" to which I thank him as I'm now bouncing her eagerly and teasing her tongue with the pacifier until she grabs hold and sucks, thereby abandoning the screaming she's suddenly so intent on doing.
"Is she hungry?" the guy asks. Mother fucker. "No, she's just fussy" I reply. "Have you tried different pacifiers?" he now presses "because the one you are using failed miserably with us!" "Well this is the one the lactation nurse recommended to me" I defend. "We went through every kind of pacifier so I say fuck what the nurse says, go with what works!" the man suggests. I try defending my position, talking briefly about Teagan's latching issue in the beginning and then just realize I don't need to convince this guy so kinda just trail off with my story and go quiet. He showed me a picture on his iPhone of his two children, which were very cute so I told him so, and soon he moved on. This part of sharing info/suggestions/photos, etc. with fellow parents always trips me out. Esp the parents trip me out. They just aren't who I thought they'd be, but then anyone can be a parent. Maybe only the "weird" ones feel comfortable coming up to me...with my crazy red hair, pierced nose & free spirit vibe emanating. Whatever.
I was way late to therapy today. I'd love to blame it on my kids or my husband but it was all on me. I was doing my make-up (as Tyler was playing "make-up" right along with me, to which I'm now just chill about instead of freaking when he grabs my brushes and starts dipping them in every different color shadow, blush, etc.) and cradling Teagan in my lap, totally on-time, but then had to feed Teagan & everything else just fell apart, including needing to get gas. So I was 20 minutes late. Our sessions always seem to start with an audible, exaggerated sigh from both my therapist & i when i sit and then her asking "how are you dear?" I decided to be totally honest this time...ok, I'm generally totally honest with my therapist anyway, just work with me here. I tell her I'm doing great but that I know our time is limited (she's an "Early Start" counselor at Kaiser which means she's available to pregnant and up to 1 year post-partum patients only) and I hesitate to say I'm doing good because I still want to be able to see her for as long as I can. But I do admit to doing great, we chat about it and then I try to throw in some doubt as to just HOW GREAT i am actually doing - because quite honestly it's a very scary place for me to be, feeling good, assuming & expecting that just around the corner my black cloud is going to envelope & suffocate me again. We make another appointment in two weeks and I can relax. Later at home I will search for her on FB and surprisingly very easily find her (her name seems so common that I'm shocked she pops up immediately) and she has no restrictions or privacy settings which is also very surprising considering her line of work. I sift through her photos, her status updates, etc. and suddenly feel like I'm totally spying on someone in a deviant way. Her profile pic is beautiful, smiling and obviously caught in a moment of total joy which isn't something I see in our sessions really. I want to friend her but then think that definitely crosses the line between patient and doctor although I feel that she's more like a friend to me than my doctor. Maybe she has checked out my FB page? I resolve to wait until our time is up...as patient and doctor at Kaiser...and then see if we can be friends on the outside. Boy this Facebook thing has really changed the world, hasn't it?
It's getting late...I should get to bed. Teagan and Tyler seem to be playing tag each night as far as who is going to wake up crying and needing attention...so much for Teagan's record number of weeks in a row she's slept through the night. Ugh! Sigh...I swear all I want right now is to sleep through the night and get to sleep in tomorrow morning. Hah - such pipe dreams and crazy ideas! There was more I wanted to write about but now I forget...and am more focused on the fact that I have make-up on needing to be washed off before I can crawl into bed.
Word of the week is "enjoy."
It's Friday night and Tony has gone out with friends...who we just entertained in our entertaining kitchen for approx an hour before they kicked themselves out to what they intended to do. What do I care? Here I am just hanging out, another fun filled Friday night at home! Woo Hoo! But I say that in stupid humor, it doesn't really bother me. Thank god I partied my ASS off before having kids!! Now when it's Friday night Tony & I look at each other and go "Friday night!!!" but then are in bed by 9!! But I'm happy to be writing, it will equate to a productive night for me and really, how many of us have Productive Friday Nights after all?! :)
I guess that depends on what you call "productive."
So tonight we went to the Speakeasy brewery for "Firkin Friday" which is like a happy hour but at the brewery and kids are welcome. It's great for parents with new or little kids that just want to go out for a drink or two without getting a babysitter for the whole night. We've been going for at least a year now (not every Friday mind you) and love it - great beer at just $3 a pint and we can bring the cubs?! How can you lose?! Tonight there was this random little blond girl who couldn't have been more than 6 or 7 who was outside doing splits and then writing Kanji with her electric blue colored chalk all over the concrete. At first I didn't pay attention but then realized what she was doing and then couldn't take my eyes off her. I wondered what she was writing..."Barbie rules!" "Democracy is dead!" "I love ice cream!" A woman walked up to me and put her hand on Teagan's back through the Ergo carrier, almost as if she were putting her hand on my pregnant belly (no i'm not pregnant!), and said "This be Gram & Auntie singin' the church hymns on Sunday" and I was like ???? Then she had a little conversation with Teagan and pretended to hear Teagan telling her something to which she would not reveal to me. No, she wasn't wasted, she was happy & religious and it was sweet.
Next I was having a seat inside on a folding chair by the loading dock, bouncing as ever to keep Teagan happy, and trying to "feed her" the pacifier when this tall man stops as he's walking by, dressed in all black with a Speakeasy leather jacket, shorn hair and 3 large gauge hoop earrings in his left ear. "How old?" he asks me, to which I reply that she's going to be 3 months old next week. "Aaaawe, I have an 8 month old at home. She's so cute!" to which I thank him as I'm now bouncing her eagerly and teasing her tongue with the pacifier until she grabs hold and sucks, thereby abandoning the screaming she's suddenly so intent on doing.
"Is she hungry?" the guy asks. Mother fucker. "No, she's just fussy" I reply. "Have you tried different pacifiers?" he now presses "because the one you are using failed miserably with us!" "Well this is the one the lactation nurse recommended to me" I defend. "We went through every kind of pacifier so I say fuck what the nurse says, go with what works!" the man suggests. I try defending my position, talking briefly about Teagan's latching issue in the beginning and then just realize I don't need to convince this guy so kinda just trail off with my story and go quiet. He showed me a picture on his iPhone of his two children, which were very cute so I told him so, and soon he moved on. This part of sharing info/suggestions/photos, etc. with fellow parents always trips me out. Esp the parents trip me out. They just aren't who I thought they'd be, but then anyone can be a parent. Maybe only the "weird" ones feel comfortable coming up to me...with my crazy red hair, pierced nose & free spirit vibe emanating. Whatever.
I was way late to therapy today. I'd love to blame it on my kids or my husband but it was all on me. I was doing my make-up (as Tyler was playing "make-up" right along with me, to which I'm now just chill about instead of freaking when he grabs my brushes and starts dipping them in every different color shadow, blush, etc.) and cradling Teagan in my lap, totally on-time, but then had to feed Teagan & everything else just fell apart, including needing to get gas. So I was 20 minutes late. Our sessions always seem to start with an audible, exaggerated sigh from both my therapist & i when i sit and then her asking "how are you dear?" I decided to be totally honest this time...ok, I'm generally totally honest with my therapist anyway, just work with me here. I tell her I'm doing great but that I know our time is limited (she's an "Early Start" counselor at Kaiser which means she's available to pregnant and up to 1 year post-partum patients only) and I hesitate to say I'm doing good because I still want to be able to see her for as long as I can. But I do admit to doing great, we chat about it and then I try to throw in some doubt as to just HOW GREAT i am actually doing - because quite honestly it's a very scary place for me to be, feeling good, assuming & expecting that just around the corner my black cloud is going to envelope & suffocate me again. We make another appointment in two weeks and I can relax. Later at home I will search for her on FB and surprisingly very easily find her (her name seems so common that I'm shocked she pops up immediately) and she has no restrictions or privacy settings which is also very surprising considering her line of work. I sift through her photos, her status updates, etc. and suddenly feel like I'm totally spying on someone in a deviant way. Her profile pic is beautiful, smiling and obviously caught in a moment of total joy which isn't something I see in our sessions really. I want to friend her but then think that definitely crosses the line between patient and doctor although I feel that she's more like a friend to me than my doctor. Maybe she has checked out my FB page? I resolve to wait until our time is up...as patient and doctor at Kaiser...and then see if we can be friends on the outside. Boy this Facebook thing has really changed the world, hasn't it?
It's getting late...I should get to bed. Teagan and Tyler seem to be playing tag each night as far as who is going to wake up crying and needing attention...so much for Teagan's record number of weeks in a row she's slept through the night. Ugh! Sigh...I swear all I want right now is to sleep through the night and get to sleep in tomorrow morning. Hah - such pipe dreams and crazy ideas! There was more I wanted to write about but now I forget...and am more focused on the fact that I have make-up on needing to be washed off before I can crawl into bed.
Word of the week is "enjoy."
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
just light stuff
My poor not-feeling-well hubby has passed out upstairs in bed watching some 70's Goldie Hawn/Warren Beatty movie so I thought I'd take the opportunity to tap out a few things. Gonna keep it to the lighter side of life since my last two posts were kinda heavy.
Teagan has been sleeping through the night for 3 weeks now!! Score!! Tyler, on the other hand, is still waking up 1-3 times each night! WTF?! We decided the other night it was high time to put our feet down & practice some tough love. We've prepared ourselves for a few nights or even a week of painful hours laying in bed reassuring each other that Tyler wasn't in fact going to die from crying or hate us for life or any other such silly thing. Last night Tony gave Tyler the 411 on our plan, we would come see him the 1st time he cried but only to make sure he was ok and reassure him we were in the other room but not to pick him up or rock him and that we would not come back if he cried again. Well, either he was really tired or actually understood and just saved us all some grief because he slept through! When I woke up this morning I almost felt kinda groggy, like I'd had too much sleep! Hah! So we'll see how tonight goes, I have a feeling last night was a fluke. But here I am feeling all cocky about my ability to get a good night sleep and am staying up to have some Tiffy time dinking around on the internet.
I'm also doing better with the breastfeeding, perhaps thanks to the Nursing Tea I've been drinking tons of each day. I like it cold, it's easier to drink more of it. I guess it's the Fenugreek herb that's the ticket. The nurse at the lactation center told me it wasn't just to increase production but also increases the pressure of release. Basically I was hooked up to the milking contraption this morning, pumping away and exclaiming loudly as I watched in awe "hey-hey, whoa, sweetie you gotta see this, i'm a fire hose over here!" to which of course Tony was completely uninterested in, or so that was my take. It was pretty crazy! Gotta rebuild my arsenal in the freezer, we're down to just a few bags of milk and that makes me nervous.
I finally met one of my goals as a mom to get Tyler involved in some things outside the house, as well as me.
So Tuesday mornings we go to Tot Time at the Noe Valley Rec Center which is kinda a glorified playtime but also has a little segment of music time (they sing songs and "play instruments") and art/chalk time when they put out materials for some little art project or you can go outside and scribble with chalk on the pavement. On Wednesday mornings we go to Tot Picasso which is in the very same place and many of the same kids are there and is again a glorified playtime, as the gymnasium where it is held is filled with toddler specific toys, climbing things, riding things, etc. In this "class" though the focus IS art, which means they put out materials for 3 different art projects. I've discovered this class is really more for me than Tyler! He has very little interest in making these little art projects...painting, stamping, gluing, glittering, etc...though he'll give it a go for a few minutes and then announce to me he wants to go play. Usually the project is heavily guided by me as well, not that I'm doing it for him or telling him what to do but he needs some instruction and encouragement. There's several kids though that just go to town, really getting into it and spending a lot more time at the art table than out with the toys. I'm just stoked to finally have "art work" to display on the fridge and of course proudly show Tony when we get home, pointing out places I think Tyler excelled "look at the brush strokes here!" "check out the use of all colors there!" etc. to which Tony looks at me like "uh huh, you crazy!" but he likes it too.
As for MY stuff, I'm easing back into the exercise and spiritual support by doing yoga. I signed up for a new student pass at the Bernal Heights Yoga studio where I got 14 days (or 14 classes, 1 each day) for $25 and Tony has been a sweetheart watching the little ones when I go. It's been easiest for all for me to go first thing in the morning so at 645 a.m. I'm out the door with my rolled up mat under my arm heading up the hill. I just love how quiet the city is at that time, still not totally light out, the air feeling a touch damp. By the time I get out at 815 the hustle and bustle is in full swing but I'm still riding high on my yoga vibe. I love this studio, the teachers are great, the room is nice and for the most part I find the other attendees no-nonsense. Maybe it's the time of day and none of us are totally awake, but there's not a lot of chitty-chat or silliness. Although it's also kinda funny & awkward how we're all in there stretching or "meditating" in our own little ways on our mats before class starts. It's like, you know you're checking everyone out through sideways sneak glances so they must be doing the same...right? Or maybe they could care less about me and I should in turn care less about them. It's funny, I feel like serious yoga people are kinda snobby and I'll even accept that label myself. But you'd think these people would be the quasi-hippy free lovin', carrot eatin', animal lovin', earth friendly bunch and therefore would be a lot warmer. Again, maybe it's the time of day. But of course we aren't there to make friends, at least I'm not. I'm there to not have a baby sucking on my tit or a toddler climbing on my back and to not hear "critter" & "sneech" (Tony's pet names for me du jour) a hundred times in 5 minutes! I'm there to get back in touch with my body, this temple that grew and popped out 2 beautiful human beings, to stretch, breathe and focus on every little muscle in my body. I would consider myself above beginner level since I used to practice Bikrham yoga several times a week, although this isn't Bikrham so I sometimes feel a little bored by the repetition of the sun salutation etc. and damnit if downward facing dog isn't just kinda irritating. Alas, I'm enjoying it and though I'm sure I'm not going to melt off this extra baby weight with yoga alone, I'm sure it's doing my body good. Of course the first day I felt like I was going to barf, pass out & fall out in class and on the walk home thought I was going to poop my yoga pants! The next time I went it was actually a pilates class which I've done a little of at home via DVDs. I was appalled to discover I have virtually no ab muscles left after carrying 2 babies!! :( I've got a lot more work to do than I thought. Oh well, something to strive for. Tonight was my first yoga class at the rec center, in the very same room where Tyler runs around and plays two mornings a week so that took a little adjusting to. All the kid stuff is all pushed over to the side but it was still kinda weird. Then I really felt like a yoga snob as I checked out through sideways glances my fellow students who CLEARLY were not yoga people, but hey who am I to judge, good on them for signing up and coming out to this class. The teacher though rubbed me wrong too. It just FELT like Rec Center Yoga. She put music on!! She'd get us in one position and then go "oh wait, I'm doing this out of order, lay back down on your backs"! Where's the flow, Flo? I was irritated but then remembered I'd already paid (and it was cheap anyway) and it was time away for me and it was what I make of it. However I did leave with my head & tummy hurting. I've been feeling starved the last few days and my kids have been sick so who knows. Anyway, it feels great to have time where I'm just Tiffany again and not "mommy" or "critter."
Ok, I shouldn't tempt fate any longer so I'm going to hit the hay. Word of the week is "nourish."
Teagan has been sleeping through the night for 3 weeks now!! Score!! Tyler, on the other hand, is still waking up 1-3 times each night! WTF?! We decided the other night it was high time to put our feet down & practice some tough love. We've prepared ourselves for a few nights or even a week of painful hours laying in bed reassuring each other that Tyler wasn't in fact going to die from crying or hate us for life or any other such silly thing. Last night Tony gave Tyler the 411 on our plan, we would come see him the 1st time he cried but only to make sure he was ok and reassure him we were in the other room but not to pick him up or rock him and that we would not come back if he cried again. Well, either he was really tired or actually understood and just saved us all some grief because he slept through! When I woke up this morning I almost felt kinda groggy, like I'd had too much sleep! Hah! So we'll see how tonight goes, I have a feeling last night was a fluke. But here I am feeling all cocky about my ability to get a good night sleep and am staying up to have some Tiffy time dinking around on the internet.
I'm also doing better with the breastfeeding, perhaps thanks to the Nursing Tea I've been drinking tons of each day. I like it cold, it's easier to drink more of it. I guess it's the Fenugreek herb that's the ticket. The nurse at the lactation center told me it wasn't just to increase production but also increases the pressure of release. Basically I was hooked up to the milking contraption this morning, pumping away and exclaiming loudly as I watched in awe "hey-hey, whoa, sweetie you gotta see this, i'm a fire hose over here!" to which of course Tony was completely uninterested in, or so that was my take. It was pretty crazy! Gotta rebuild my arsenal in the freezer, we're down to just a few bags of milk and that makes me nervous.
I finally met one of my goals as a mom to get Tyler involved in some things outside the house, as well as me.
So Tuesday mornings we go to Tot Time at the Noe Valley Rec Center which is kinda a glorified playtime but also has a little segment of music time (they sing songs and "play instruments") and art/chalk time when they put out materials for some little art project or you can go outside and scribble with chalk on the pavement. On Wednesday mornings we go to Tot Picasso which is in the very same place and many of the same kids are there and is again a glorified playtime, as the gymnasium where it is held is filled with toddler specific toys, climbing things, riding things, etc. In this "class" though the focus IS art, which means they put out materials for 3 different art projects. I've discovered this class is really more for me than Tyler! He has very little interest in making these little art projects...painting, stamping, gluing, glittering, etc...though he'll give it a go for a few minutes and then announce to me he wants to go play. Usually the project is heavily guided by me as well, not that I'm doing it for him or telling him what to do but he needs some instruction and encouragement. There's several kids though that just go to town, really getting into it and spending a lot more time at the art table than out with the toys. I'm just stoked to finally have "art work" to display on the fridge and of course proudly show Tony when we get home, pointing out places I think Tyler excelled "look at the brush strokes here!" "check out the use of all colors there!" etc. to which Tony looks at me like "uh huh, you crazy!" but he likes it too.
As for MY stuff, I'm easing back into the exercise and spiritual support by doing yoga. I signed up for a new student pass at the Bernal Heights Yoga studio where I got 14 days (or 14 classes, 1 each day) for $25 and Tony has been a sweetheart watching the little ones when I go. It's been easiest for all for me to go first thing in the morning so at 645 a.m. I'm out the door with my rolled up mat under my arm heading up the hill. I just love how quiet the city is at that time, still not totally light out, the air feeling a touch damp. By the time I get out at 815 the hustle and bustle is in full swing but I'm still riding high on my yoga vibe. I love this studio, the teachers are great, the room is nice and for the most part I find the other attendees no-nonsense. Maybe it's the time of day and none of us are totally awake, but there's not a lot of chitty-chat or silliness. Although it's also kinda funny & awkward how we're all in there stretching or "meditating" in our own little ways on our mats before class starts. It's like, you know you're checking everyone out through sideways sneak glances so they must be doing the same...right? Or maybe they could care less about me and I should in turn care less about them. It's funny, I feel like serious yoga people are kinda snobby and I'll even accept that label myself. But you'd think these people would be the quasi-hippy free lovin', carrot eatin', animal lovin', earth friendly bunch and therefore would be a lot warmer. Again, maybe it's the time of day. But of course we aren't there to make friends, at least I'm not. I'm there to not have a baby sucking on my tit or a toddler climbing on my back and to not hear "critter" & "sneech" (Tony's pet names for me du jour) a hundred times in 5 minutes! I'm there to get back in touch with my body, this temple that grew and popped out 2 beautiful human beings, to stretch, breathe and focus on every little muscle in my body. I would consider myself above beginner level since I used to practice Bikrham yoga several times a week, although this isn't Bikrham so I sometimes feel a little bored by the repetition of the sun salutation etc. and damnit if downward facing dog isn't just kinda irritating. Alas, I'm enjoying it and though I'm sure I'm not going to melt off this extra baby weight with yoga alone, I'm sure it's doing my body good. Of course the first day I felt like I was going to barf, pass out & fall out in class and on the walk home thought I was going to poop my yoga pants! The next time I went it was actually a pilates class which I've done a little of at home via DVDs. I was appalled to discover I have virtually no ab muscles left after carrying 2 babies!! :( I've got a lot more work to do than I thought. Oh well, something to strive for. Tonight was my first yoga class at the rec center, in the very same room where Tyler runs around and plays two mornings a week so that took a little adjusting to. All the kid stuff is all pushed over to the side but it was still kinda weird. Then I really felt like a yoga snob as I checked out through sideways glances my fellow students who CLEARLY were not yoga people, but hey who am I to judge, good on them for signing up and coming out to this class. The teacher though rubbed me wrong too. It just FELT like Rec Center Yoga. She put music on!! She'd get us in one position and then go "oh wait, I'm doing this out of order, lay back down on your backs"! Where's the flow, Flo? I was irritated but then remembered I'd already paid (and it was cheap anyway) and it was time away for me and it was what I make of it. However I did leave with my head & tummy hurting. I've been feeling starved the last few days and my kids have been sick so who knows. Anyway, it feels great to have time where I'm just Tiffany again and not "mommy" or "critter."
Ok, I shouldn't tempt fate any longer so I'm going to hit the hay. Word of the week is "nourish."
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Purpose
As I make my way between crying children, up the stairs to soothe Tyler who isn't feeling well and therefore not wanting to go to sleep, back to the living room where Teagan screams from the swing because her little digestive system is still figuring itself out, back to Tyler who immediately says when I walk into his room "start Scout" (his little computerized puppy dog pal) to which I reply "you know how to start Scout, enough of this crying, you need to go to sleep!" back down to Teagan who was soothed and quiet before I headed upstairs but is now writhing and wailing again, I wonder to myself what purpose I am here on earth for? I really had no inkling of that answer before I became a mother and now I have just slightly more of an inkling. Knowing a helpless little human being depends on you for everything tends to make you feel pretty important and give your life some purpose after all. However, these days I'm looking for more. I like to tell myself my children are going to be VERY important someday, maybe a world leader or inventor of something that will revolutionize our way of life, etc. and that really gives me purpose...for a few minutes.
My "aunt" Nancy Prestopino passed away last Saturday after a long battle with Cancer. I didn't find out until Monday. I cried a lot that day. Since then I've just been psychoanalyzing everything about life and meaning and purpose. We don't ask to be born but here we are and life is what we make of it. Some of us make very different things of it, some of us make the same things of it, but at the end of the day it is our own and no one else's. One day we are here and another day we are not. So what do we do in between? Some of us are born into downright shitty, scary, inhumane situations all over the world and some are born...with a silver spoon in their mouth. I sometimes play this game when I'm driving around town where I see someone and I imagine they are someone else. Like this: I see a woman dressed in a business suit walking back to her office downtown after having lunch - then I imagine she were actually Angelina Jolie without everything that has made Angelina, Angelina. Or I'll see a guy making drinks at Starbucks and I'll imagine he's Donald Trump without the life that made him Donald Trump. It's kinda fun, kinda silly but also kinda trippy. Who could I have been? Who might I still be? Probably no one spectacular...although I'm pretty spectacular in my own way, in my own world. I like to think I am a good friend, mother, wife, daughter, sister, etc. who has made impacts on people's lives. That's pretty purposeful. Then again, those people will be dead someday too just like me.
I don't believe in heaven or hell, or god for that matter. I believe in Science and I believe in myself. When I die that's it, no mas, game over. It kinda sucks to believe that way, but I can't bring myself to believe any other way. I can't very well say R.I.P. because I don't think the person is "resting" anywhere and though I like to think they are now "in peace" that doesn't really work either. Maybe I could say N.I.P. - Not In Pain. I used to think I wanted to be buried somewhere where the loved ones I left behind can come visit me and bring flowers to my grave and so in some way I still have a place here. I hated the idea of my body, this vessel that has taken me all over the world, has born two children, has experienced love, laughter, tears, sorrow, fear, anger etc., being slid into some big oven and then burned to ash. We have one of our beloved late kitties in a box sitting on a bookshelf, at least we assume it's Bootsie in there and not a combination of Bootsie, Scooter, Fluffy and Peetie. I would like my ashes to be scattered somewhere in that case, somewhere I loved when I was alive...maybe the ocean or a river running through the Sierras. Or maybe someone would snort me, like one of my children, and then we could be one.
On Tuesday, the day after I found out Nancy passed away, I was reading through The Holistic Health Magazine which I picked up at the yoga studio last week (yep, I started doing yoga again, although I used to do Bikrham and for now I'm just doing the "regular" kind!) and it was like serendipity! Or coincidence? Or ironic timing? Anyway, I was engrossed in these articles about Self-Healing with Energy Medicine, the Spiritual Side of Exercise and Inner Resolve: An Essential Key to Cancer Survival and Healing. I ripped several pages out, scribbled notes in the margins and felt more and more empowered and resolute about my life as I swallowed another spoonful of old fashioned oatmeal with fresh blueberries. I have to be careful about the page tearing though, Tyler sees me do it and thinks that gives him carte blanche to tear out pages as well, in any and everything that has a page that can be torn out. Is all this hocus pocus or does it really work? Or does it just depend on the person. My aunt was such a healthy person, and I know she had the strongest will and resolve to beat Cancer. Why does it get some people and not others? I found a suspicious mole on my chest as I was breastfeeding Teagan the other day and I immediately made an appointment with the dermatologist to check it out, and the rest of my moles, but they can't see me until the end of the month. I'm trying not to freak out, it's probably nothing, but maybe it is and then what? Can I self-heal with energy medicine? I've already begun changing my eating habits back to how they were before I got pregnant with Tyler (vegan, unprocessed) my main purpose to lose the baby weight but also now to fend off Cancer, in any form. I have breast Cancer on my mother and father's side of the family though the doctors tell me I'm not at any extra risk. Really?!
I want to be a Health Coach and my purpose will be to help others take better care of themselves so they may live as long as possible. I suppose some people don't want to live that long, but then they won't be the ones paying me for my expertise, guidance and support. Taking money for that almost seems like a crime, but appreciation doesn't put food on the table. I've got some time and a lot of learning before I can officially embark on my version of saving the world, so for now I start with me. I must resolve to avoid negative thinking and work through toxic emotions such as anger, resentment, jealousy and guilt. I must resolve to put good food in my body and listen to what it needs, wants, doesn't tolerate and occasionally should indulge in. I must resolve to be active, to exercise and have fun. I must resolve to be true to my purpose and create clear intentions with every new page of my life that I turn. Does all this mean I won't die of Cancer though?? Well, I'm willing to take the chance.
I suppose I think too much about things instead of living my life. What about the mind over matter thing? A therapist once told me that I do over think everything! I'm not alone here right? Or is everyone else running around like the tv has gone to snow? Sometimes I think so the way they are living and what they are putting into their bodies, but who am I to judge? No, I'm too busy judging myself. Wait, that's another thing I must resolve to stop ;)
"My intention is to live life on purpose" - Nancy Prestopino, Dec 1943 - Sept 2011
And that she did.
My "aunt" Nancy Prestopino passed away last Saturday after a long battle with Cancer. I didn't find out until Monday. I cried a lot that day. Since then I've just been psychoanalyzing everything about life and meaning and purpose. We don't ask to be born but here we are and life is what we make of it. Some of us make very different things of it, some of us make the same things of it, but at the end of the day it is our own and no one else's. One day we are here and another day we are not. So what do we do in between? Some of us are born into downright shitty, scary, inhumane situations all over the world and some are born...with a silver spoon in their mouth. I sometimes play this game when I'm driving around town where I see someone and I imagine they are someone else. Like this: I see a woman dressed in a business suit walking back to her office downtown after having lunch - then I imagine she were actually Angelina Jolie without everything that has made Angelina, Angelina. Or I'll see a guy making drinks at Starbucks and I'll imagine he's Donald Trump without the life that made him Donald Trump. It's kinda fun, kinda silly but also kinda trippy. Who could I have been? Who might I still be? Probably no one spectacular...although I'm pretty spectacular in my own way, in my own world. I like to think I am a good friend, mother, wife, daughter, sister, etc. who has made impacts on people's lives. That's pretty purposeful. Then again, those people will be dead someday too just like me.
I don't believe in heaven or hell, or god for that matter. I believe in Science and I believe in myself. When I die that's it, no mas, game over. It kinda sucks to believe that way, but I can't bring myself to believe any other way. I can't very well say R.I.P. because I don't think the person is "resting" anywhere and though I like to think they are now "in peace" that doesn't really work either. Maybe I could say N.I.P. - Not In Pain. I used to think I wanted to be buried somewhere where the loved ones I left behind can come visit me and bring flowers to my grave and so in some way I still have a place here. I hated the idea of my body, this vessel that has taken me all over the world, has born two children, has experienced love, laughter, tears, sorrow, fear, anger etc., being slid into some big oven and then burned to ash. We have one of our beloved late kitties in a box sitting on a bookshelf, at least we assume it's Bootsie in there and not a combination of Bootsie, Scooter, Fluffy and Peetie. I would like my ashes to be scattered somewhere in that case, somewhere I loved when I was alive...maybe the ocean or a river running through the Sierras. Or maybe someone would snort me, like one of my children, and then we could be one.
On Tuesday, the day after I found out Nancy passed away, I was reading through The Holistic Health Magazine which I picked up at the yoga studio last week (yep, I started doing yoga again, although I used to do Bikrham and for now I'm just doing the "regular" kind!) and it was like serendipity! Or coincidence? Or ironic timing? Anyway, I was engrossed in these articles about Self-Healing with Energy Medicine, the Spiritual Side of Exercise and Inner Resolve: An Essential Key to Cancer Survival and Healing. I ripped several pages out, scribbled notes in the margins and felt more and more empowered and resolute about my life as I swallowed another spoonful of old fashioned oatmeal with fresh blueberries. I have to be careful about the page tearing though, Tyler sees me do it and thinks that gives him carte blanche to tear out pages as well, in any and everything that has a page that can be torn out. Is all this hocus pocus or does it really work? Or does it just depend on the person. My aunt was such a healthy person, and I know she had the strongest will and resolve to beat Cancer. Why does it get some people and not others? I found a suspicious mole on my chest as I was breastfeeding Teagan the other day and I immediately made an appointment with the dermatologist to check it out, and the rest of my moles, but they can't see me until the end of the month. I'm trying not to freak out, it's probably nothing, but maybe it is and then what? Can I self-heal with energy medicine? I've already begun changing my eating habits back to how they were before I got pregnant with Tyler (vegan, unprocessed) my main purpose to lose the baby weight but also now to fend off Cancer, in any form. I have breast Cancer on my mother and father's side of the family though the doctors tell me I'm not at any extra risk. Really?!
I want to be a Health Coach and my purpose will be to help others take better care of themselves so they may live as long as possible. I suppose some people don't want to live that long, but then they won't be the ones paying me for my expertise, guidance and support. Taking money for that almost seems like a crime, but appreciation doesn't put food on the table. I've got some time and a lot of learning before I can officially embark on my version of saving the world, so for now I start with me. I must resolve to avoid negative thinking and work through toxic emotions such as anger, resentment, jealousy and guilt. I must resolve to put good food in my body and listen to what it needs, wants, doesn't tolerate and occasionally should indulge in. I must resolve to be active, to exercise and have fun. I must resolve to be true to my purpose and create clear intentions with every new page of my life that I turn. Does all this mean I won't die of Cancer though?? Well, I'm willing to take the chance.
I suppose I think too much about things instead of living my life. What about the mind over matter thing? A therapist once told me that I do over think everything! I'm not alone here right? Or is everyone else running around like the tv has gone to snow? Sometimes I think so the way they are living and what they are putting into their bodies, but who am I to judge? No, I'm too busy judging myself. Wait, that's another thing I must resolve to stop ;)
"My intention is to live life on purpose" - Nancy Prestopino, Dec 1943 - Sept 2011
And that she did.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
The Cycle of Life
I just returned home last night from a little road trip up to Paradise, in Northern California, where I visited with a beloved family friend who is in her last days after a long fight with Cancer. I can't properly tell the full accurate story but it has been years that she's been having chemo off and on for cancer in her lungs, getting the thumbs up sign from her docs only to be back in chemo before long. Just earlier this year she underwent a surgery to remove a portion of one lung which the docs felt might very well deem her Cancer free, leaving her to enjoy the rest of her life, which there should have been plenty more of. It was probably only 3-4 months later she was told she had a tumor in her brain and various other places in her body. To me it was like the Cancer was extra pissed after she had the surgery and thought It would show her who was boss. I know, Cancer doesn't think. She decided to forge on with treatment, hoping to get through radiation and chemo with enough energy left in her to make it worth while - this was a very active woman who loved hiking, bicycling, walking, traveling and kayaking as often as she could, she swam everyday at home and taught at the local gym. When it wasn't just her adoring doggy by her side, perhaps it was one of her two grown children (friends so near and dear that we consider ourselves cousins) enjoying nature with her. She has 3 grandchildren (4 1/2, 2 3/4 & 2) to play with as well. After 15 radiation treatments to her brain she found out her white blood cell count was too low to move on to the chemo and at this point she decided she'd had enough. Who can blame her? Poor quality of life wasn't her ante for continued Cancer treatment. She is now at home for her last days with the help of her two children and hospice. Her son or daughter is always there with her, spending the night with her, taking care of her, enjoying their time with her, keeping her comfortable, etc. It's pain management now. And goodbyes.
When I told Tony I had to go up and see my "aunt" Nancy it was clear to me he didn't realize the importance of this woman in my life. Sure he knows how close I am with her children, aka my cousins, but not their parents. Other than my two grandmothers, I've been fortunate enough not to have gone through the pain of losing anyone else except my "uncle" Chris, Nancy's husband, who died from Cancer in a similar fashion when he was just in his early 50's. That was a hard one for me and this one is going to be even harder. My parents were good friends with Chris & Nancy before I was born and then when their son was born just 4 months after me it was pretty much set that we were as good as family. My parents divorced and my mom moved all over but we made many trips to Paradise to visit our "family" there before ultimately moving there when I was in 8th grade. To make a long story short (too late) this family might as well be my real family for all the love and memories I have for them all. It has been shitty watching Nancy going through chemo after chemo after recovery after setback after chemo etc. Of course not nearly as crappy as for her own kids. They've all always put on such a strong, positive front - whether or not that was how they felt behind closed doors who can say - and really, how else can you look at it? Gloom & doom will get you nowhere fast even if that's where you're headed.
On the drive up to Paradise I grappled with how to conduct myself during my visit with Nancy. After all, I was basically going up to say goodbye. I imagined what she might look like right now and where she would be seated in her house, then going up to her and hugging her and asking her how she is. Well hell, you can't ask THAT question! "Hi tiff, nice of you to visit, I'm dying thank you and how about yourself?" It's not funny at ALL. Same goes for her kids, my good friends, what do I say to them? "Hi Julie, so good to see you, how are you?" "Nice to see you too Tiff, my mom's dying and I have to watch the process every day, it sucks more than you'll ever know, thanks for asking." Son of a bitch. I talked about it with my mom and she helped me see it in a less morbid light. Nancy looked good, all things considered, and I greeted her with a hug & kiss and told her it was good to see her.
It comforts me to know Nancy lived a very full life, despite it being cut unfairly short in her mid 60's. It just feels like such a fucking raw deal. As I sat by Nancy's recliner, admiring the juicy orange nail color on her toes, I wondered how she was handling all this. As she's not needing to take any major narcotics, yet, she is still pretty with-it. At times I thought she wasn't so much there but then she'd answer whoever's question and it was clear she was just taking a little longer to think and/or answer. Her wedding came up as she talked with my mom, who was at the small ceremony in 1972, and Nancy asked her son to get her wedding album for her to look at. I have no idea when the last time was she looked at it but it felt really heavy to me now and I wondered what she was thinking. She'd lost her husband almost 20 years ago! She'd watched him slip away at home just as she was now. How bitter must she feel that this fucking Cancer stole her husband from her too early and is now stealing her from her children and grandchildren or has she already made her peace? I guess you have to make peace in order to save yourself the mental anguish in the end. Knowing these are your last days, not knowing how many more there are but at this point do you really hope for more than less as the pain increases, your faculties fail you and you look into your children's eyes wondering if it's the last time you will? Maybe if you are holding out for a special someone to come visit you. That's the other awkward thing - all these great friends, family, acquaintances coming to see you - to say goodbye. To enjoy a few final moments with this person. I suppose I'm looking at it terribly negatively. I mean, obviously I think it's wonderful that everyone is going to see her and visa versa and that she's still with-it. I wanted to go see her as soon as I could, I didn't want to see her as she gets worse. I didn't want that to be my last memory of her. Is that terrible to say? My last memory of her husband was seeing him driving through town in his adored VW bus, the biggest smile on his face! That was just before he died. So I'm glad for that short visit Sunday night, seeing her smile as her grandchildren, and my Tyler, played in the living room by her. She still looked great and I'll probably never forget those awesome soda-pop orange toenails!
But then there's the anger. Frustration. Bitterness. Confusion. Sadness. Those are emotions I'm struggling with now. I know we all have to die, just as sure as we are born we have an end to our time here. When I was discharged from the hospital after having Teagan and the nurse was pushing me down the hall in a wheelchair we passed a very old woman, walking hunched over and with a cane, her daughter(?) holding her arm for added support as they made their way slowly down the hallway. As I passed by with my treasure I couldn't help but feel a weird flood of emotions - guilt, sorrow, understanding, fear and acceptance. Here was a brand new life passing by one that is at the end of theirs. So many people are born, and die, everyday. But I don't know them all, I don't love them all. I have loved Nancy for 37 years, she has given me great support, advice and laughs and I'll always remember her infectious smile and the how she always thought things were "wonderful." She always had such a fun way of looking at things and was such a free spirit. I try to parent as I saw her parent because I thought & think so highly of it. It's just impossible, I'm finding, to paint a vivid picture of her with words, to try to do her justice. Alas, it's crystal clear in my mind and I hold fast to that. Her caringbridge website guestbook now has over 800 messages! 800!! She has touched so many people's lives.
When we left I gave her a hug again and another kiss and told her how great it was to see her. She thanked me for coming and told me it was good to see me too. Then she told me, as she looked across the living room at Tyler playing quietly with his Matchbox cars and at Teagan who was in the arms of my cousin's wife, that I have great kids and that Tyler is really neat. My eyes well with tears now remembering that. What a compliment! I'll never forget that. Last night before putting Teagan down for the night in her bassinet I just held her close and swayed gently, felt her little body breathing, kissed her warm head and cried. My precious little girl. Someday she and Tyler will lose me and they will live on to someday be lost by their children. To think of my children as old people and passing away makes me so sad. Why I sit and think about any of this when it is so far, hopefully, in the future is beyond me. Right now and today is what we have and I'm trying to remember to enjoy every minute of it.
I want to know everything, maybe someday I will
What I want is to find my place
Breathe the air and feel the sun on my children's face
That's what I want
I go round and round just like a circle
I can see a clearer picture
When I touch the ground I come full circle
to my place and I am home, I am home
I want to let go of all disappointment that's waiting for me
What I want is to live forever
Not defined by time and space
It's a lonely place
That's what I want for me
- from the album American Life
When I told Tony I had to go up and see my "aunt" Nancy it was clear to me he didn't realize the importance of this woman in my life. Sure he knows how close I am with her children, aka my cousins, but not their parents. Other than my two grandmothers, I've been fortunate enough not to have gone through the pain of losing anyone else except my "uncle" Chris, Nancy's husband, who died from Cancer in a similar fashion when he was just in his early 50's. That was a hard one for me and this one is going to be even harder. My parents were good friends with Chris & Nancy before I was born and then when their son was born just 4 months after me it was pretty much set that we were as good as family. My parents divorced and my mom moved all over but we made many trips to Paradise to visit our "family" there before ultimately moving there when I was in 8th grade. To make a long story short (too late) this family might as well be my real family for all the love and memories I have for them all. It has been shitty watching Nancy going through chemo after chemo after recovery after setback after chemo etc. Of course not nearly as crappy as for her own kids. They've all always put on such a strong, positive front - whether or not that was how they felt behind closed doors who can say - and really, how else can you look at it? Gloom & doom will get you nowhere fast even if that's where you're headed.
On the drive up to Paradise I grappled with how to conduct myself during my visit with Nancy. After all, I was basically going up to say goodbye. I imagined what she might look like right now and where she would be seated in her house, then going up to her and hugging her and asking her how she is. Well hell, you can't ask THAT question! "Hi tiff, nice of you to visit, I'm dying thank you and how about yourself?" It's not funny at ALL. Same goes for her kids, my good friends, what do I say to them? "Hi Julie, so good to see you, how are you?" "Nice to see you too Tiff, my mom's dying and I have to watch the process every day, it sucks more than you'll ever know, thanks for asking." Son of a bitch. I talked about it with my mom and she helped me see it in a less morbid light. Nancy looked good, all things considered, and I greeted her with a hug & kiss and told her it was good to see her.
It comforts me to know Nancy lived a very full life, despite it being cut unfairly short in her mid 60's. It just feels like such a fucking raw deal. As I sat by Nancy's recliner, admiring the juicy orange nail color on her toes, I wondered how she was handling all this. As she's not needing to take any major narcotics, yet, she is still pretty with-it. At times I thought she wasn't so much there but then she'd answer whoever's question and it was clear she was just taking a little longer to think and/or answer. Her wedding came up as she talked with my mom, who was at the small ceremony in 1972, and Nancy asked her son to get her wedding album for her to look at. I have no idea when the last time was she looked at it but it felt really heavy to me now and I wondered what she was thinking. She'd lost her husband almost 20 years ago! She'd watched him slip away at home just as she was now. How bitter must she feel that this fucking Cancer stole her husband from her too early and is now stealing her from her children and grandchildren or has she already made her peace? I guess you have to make peace in order to save yourself the mental anguish in the end. Knowing these are your last days, not knowing how many more there are but at this point do you really hope for more than less as the pain increases, your faculties fail you and you look into your children's eyes wondering if it's the last time you will? Maybe if you are holding out for a special someone to come visit you. That's the other awkward thing - all these great friends, family, acquaintances coming to see you - to say goodbye. To enjoy a few final moments with this person. I suppose I'm looking at it terribly negatively. I mean, obviously I think it's wonderful that everyone is going to see her and visa versa and that she's still with-it. I wanted to go see her as soon as I could, I didn't want to see her as she gets worse. I didn't want that to be my last memory of her. Is that terrible to say? My last memory of her husband was seeing him driving through town in his adored VW bus, the biggest smile on his face! That was just before he died. So I'm glad for that short visit Sunday night, seeing her smile as her grandchildren, and my Tyler, played in the living room by her. She still looked great and I'll probably never forget those awesome soda-pop orange toenails!
But then there's the anger. Frustration. Bitterness. Confusion. Sadness. Those are emotions I'm struggling with now. I know we all have to die, just as sure as we are born we have an end to our time here. When I was discharged from the hospital after having Teagan and the nurse was pushing me down the hall in a wheelchair we passed a very old woman, walking hunched over and with a cane, her daughter(?) holding her arm for added support as they made their way slowly down the hallway. As I passed by with my treasure I couldn't help but feel a weird flood of emotions - guilt, sorrow, understanding, fear and acceptance. Here was a brand new life passing by one that is at the end of theirs. So many people are born, and die, everyday. But I don't know them all, I don't love them all. I have loved Nancy for 37 years, she has given me great support, advice and laughs and I'll always remember her infectious smile and the how she always thought things were "wonderful." She always had such a fun way of looking at things and was such a free spirit. I try to parent as I saw her parent because I thought & think so highly of it. It's just impossible, I'm finding, to paint a vivid picture of her with words, to try to do her justice. Alas, it's crystal clear in my mind and I hold fast to that. Her caringbridge website guestbook now has over 800 messages! 800!! She has touched so many people's lives.
When we left I gave her a hug again and another kiss and told her how great it was to see her. She thanked me for coming and told me it was good to see me too. Then she told me, as she looked across the living room at Tyler playing quietly with his Matchbox cars and at Teagan who was in the arms of my cousin's wife, that I have great kids and that Tyler is really neat. My eyes well with tears now remembering that. What a compliment! I'll never forget that. Last night before putting Teagan down for the night in her bassinet I just held her close and swayed gently, felt her little body breathing, kissed her warm head and cried. My precious little girl. Someday she and Tyler will lose me and they will live on to someday be lost by their children. To think of my children as old people and passing away makes me so sad. Why I sit and think about any of this when it is so far, hopefully, in the future is beyond me. Right now and today is what we have and I'm trying to remember to enjoy every minute of it.
I want to know everything, maybe someday I will
What I want is to find my place
Breathe the air and feel the sun on my children's face
That's what I want
I go round and round just like a circle
I can see a clearer picture
When I touch the ground I come full circle
to my place and I am home, I am home
I want to let go of all disappointment that's waiting for me
What I want is to live forever
Not defined by time and space
It's a lonely place
That's what I want for me
- from the album American Life
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