The MOM Project was founded in October 2003 in loving memory of Mariam Rebman, beloved daughter of Lisa Rebman. The MOM Project is aimed towards families affected by pregnancy and infant loss. We offer a variety of information, services, and memorial gifts. Commemorative Birth Certificates and Recognition of Life Certificates, as well as Bereaved Mother's Bracelets are offered free of charge.
This project is staffed entirely by volunteers and operates on donations. Sadly, both are few and far between these days and the project is facing a freeze on all free items. As a bereaved mother myself, I know how valuable the smallest tokens can be when you are thrown into the black hole of grief. And that is why I'm coming to you, dear internets.
In the past, I have solicited donations myself for the purchase of supplies to make bracelets and mail them to mothers who request them (it now costs about $6 a bracelet to accomplish this), and my blog readers and friends have been very generous. To date, I have been able to send out more than 50 bracelets with your help...and I can't thank you enough.
Now, I'm hoping that readers/friends/lurkers will join me in making a donation directly to the project (we are now an official Illinois non-profit corporation) so that we can continue to offer bracelets and certificates to fellow parents in loss. A few dollars will go a long way. And with tax return season upon us (and the federal government's new economic stimulus plan sending out checks too), a few dollars won't hurt your pocketbook right now. In fact, a larger donation than usual wouldn't be out of the question (and would ALWAYS be appreciated).
I'm begging on behalf of those moms like me...
...who turn to the internet during the darkest hours of their lives to find the smallest ray of light in the kindness offered by a handful of strangers.
Thank you.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
Party with a Purpose!
FROCK 'N ROLL® 2008: Fundraiser to Benefit the MISS Foundation
Please join us for a night of fundraising fun!
FROCK 'N ROLL is the annual charity event that brings together the Phoenix, Arizona fashion and music industries.
The date is the evening of May 17, 2008 and the event will be hosted by Alice Cooper'sTown, the venue owned by it's famous namesake.
FROCK 'N ROLL '08 will mark the fifth anniversary of this special event. As bands play live, models "rock the catwalk" in clothing designed by Arizona fashion designers, all in the name of charity.
Leslie Criger, Susan Di Staulo, Daynalyn Wain and Rhonda Zayas, highly respected professionals from different fields of the arts in Phoenix, are the producers and founders of the event.
Each FROCK ‘N ROLL founder, band, model, designer chooses their own charity. Champagne Tap, one of the four bands to play at the event, will be playing to benefit the MISS Foundation. Tickets can be purchased for a $10 donation during the presale. You don't have to attend the event (for those MISS supporters who don't live locally or for those who don't like loud music.)
Please contact Anna Kennedy at anna@missfoundation.org to purchase tickets for presale.
More information regarding the event is forthcoming.
Please join us for a night of fundraising fun!
FROCK 'N ROLL is the annual charity event that brings together the Phoenix, Arizona fashion and music industries.
The date is the evening of May 17, 2008 and the event will be hosted by Alice Cooper'sTown, the venue owned by it's famous namesake.
FROCK 'N ROLL '08 will mark the fifth anniversary of this special event. As bands play live, models "rock the catwalk" in clothing designed by Arizona fashion designers, all in the name of charity.
Leslie Criger, Susan Di Staulo, Daynalyn Wain and Rhonda Zayas, highly respected professionals from different fields of the arts in Phoenix, are the producers and founders of the event.
Each FROCK ‘N ROLL founder, band, model, designer chooses their own charity. Champagne Tap, one of the four bands to play at the event, will be playing to benefit the MISS Foundation. Tickets can be purchased for a $10 donation during the presale. You don't have to attend the event (for those MISS supporters who don't live locally or for those who don't like loud music.)
Please contact Anna Kennedy at anna@missfoundation.org to purchase tickets for presale.
More information regarding the event is forthcoming.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Miscellaneous thoughts
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Miscellaneous thoughts were delayed a bit this week by the pure insanity of life. I have a lot to say and not a lot of time to type it.
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Monday night's sleepy baby was replaced by Tuesday and Wednesday's cranky baby.
As we were walking out the door for school Thursday morning, I could be heard saying to Sam, "If your father's car wasn't in my way, I would have left without you."
Thursday's baby was asleep in his carseat when we got home from work/school so I left him there to sleep...for three hours.
I'm not sure what any of that says about us.
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I finished a crochet gift Friday...the first in quite a while. I've got a few more projects on the hooks that I'd like to whip through right quick. I'll keep you posted and share some pictures as soon as I know the US Postal service has delivered the gifts to their recipients.
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My boss left Friday for his yearly three-week vacation to a secluded tropical location (spotty internet access at best...can you imagine?!?!). I like the guy, but I feel lighter somehow knowing he's not going to be around for a few weeks.
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I had stopped reading "loss blogs" for a while. November to January...not a bad run. But I guess I couldn't leave it alone for too long, because lately I've been opening the drawer. You know the one. The mental drawer where all the sadness lives. Slowly...a little bit at a time. I've been visiting the Babyloss directory and surfing through all the new blogs with all the new losses. I hate how the list keeps growing. But at the same time, I find myself oddly comforted by reading through the words of those mothers. I know where they are because I've been there. And while I really am in a whole new place in my life I realize that it's not so very far from that place. It would be so easy to fall...to let go and drown in the sorrow again. But I won't. I can't. I have to hang on...even if it's just by the fingernails.
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I don't often bitch about my husband on this blog because I don't want to air dirty laundry in a place that he reads (Hi Steve!). But since I've actually bitched TO him about this particular point, I think I can share it here without feeling like I'm unfairly ambushing him.
I've been waiting for construction of a dog run in our back yard for three years. It involves a lot of hard work and I know it will take time and effort. It involves digging multiple post holes and hanging fence and pouring concreted...back breaking labor. I've been very patient (I'm actually impatient...just stewing about it silently).
My husband got an outdoor antenna so that he can get his local television channels in high definition. He will have to mount it on a post. He plans to go out...in January...in Northeast Ohio...in a foot of snow...to dig the hole and plant the post. Am I wrong in wanting to wring his neck?
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Bitching about the husband leads me to a topic that I've been meaning to post about for a while. It's NOT a bitch about my husband...just an observation about life in general. My husband is no worse than any other man. In fact, he does quite a bit around the house to help. But that is exactly the point. That phrase includes the "to help" part.
Have you ever noticed that when a family welcomes a baby, it's the woman who makes all the changes in her life to accommodate the new creature? Some of it is by design, but a lot of it is just nonsense created by custom or tradition or whatever. We still live in a society where the woman is responsible for organizing everyone...getting them out of bed in the morning...directing/driving them to their appropriate daytime activities...and getting them back home again. The woman is responsible for feeding and clothing and cleaning the members of her family and the place in which they live. If you're VERY lucky as a woman, you find a mate who will take some of this responsibility from you. But it depends on the graciousness of your man and his commitment to lightening YOUR load. It is, ultimately, still OUR designated burden as women to do all these things (hence the reason I say things like, "Your doing dishes? Wait. I think I'm having a heart attack from the shock.").
I wonder why this is. You want clean underwear? Why is it my responsibility to wash them? You ate dinner on those dishes...why must I be responsible for washing them? The windows are dirty with dog nose prints or the bathroom mirror is dirty with toothpaste spittle. Why do I have to wipe them off? Why doesn't a man feel the need to take ownership of the house and the belongings he pays for with his salary (just as much as a woman does in most cases)?
I'm not talking obvious male chauvinism here. Just subtle cues that a woman's place is still considered to be in the home...even if she doesn't want to be (or can't afford to be). And they come from women as well as men in the belief that we have to "do it all." Why can't we have the mindset that if we don't have time to do the dishes, they'll still get done? Why can't we trust that the family will not go without clean underwear because even if you're insanely busy with a fussy baby all day, someone (other than you) will make sure it gets done? Instead of running ourselves ragged and feeling guilty that stuff is left undone at the end of the day...why can't we do what we can and feel confident that the rest will be taken care of by our male counterparts?
I've got lots of theories...none of which make me sound like I like my man.
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I can not remember the last time I went out to see a movie in the theater. I'm thinking it was our attempt to see Chicken Little in November of 2005 with Samuel.
Sad.
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I have thank you notes to write and I don't wanna.
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My baby is outgrowing his 0-3 month clothes already. I'm not sad about it because he has some awesome 3-6 month clothes that I can't wait to see him in. And I love this phase so much more than the newborn blob stage. Smiles and conversations and movement...seeing him experience it all for the first time...seeing him interact with his big brother. Having Sam melt my heart when he says, unsolicited, "I love being a big brother." This is the good stuff we've been waiting for. And it IS good.
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Cleaning and crocheting to do...
...and I think I'm going to get roped into helping put up that damn antenna...
so I better get going.
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Miscellaneous thoughts were delayed a bit this week by the pure insanity of life. I have a lot to say and not a lot of time to type it.
----------------------------------------------
Monday night's sleepy baby was replaced by Tuesday and Wednesday's cranky baby.
As we were walking out the door for school Thursday morning, I could be heard saying to Sam, "If your father's car wasn't in my way, I would have left without you."
Thursday's baby was asleep in his carseat when we got home from work/school so I left him there to sleep...for three hours.
I'm not sure what any of that says about us.
----------------------------------------------
I finished a crochet gift Friday...the first in quite a while. I've got a few more projects on the hooks that I'd like to whip through right quick. I'll keep you posted and share some pictures as soon as I know the US Postal service has delivered the gifts to their recipients.
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My boss left Friday for his yearly three-week vacation to a secluded tropical location (spotty internet access at best...can you imagine?!?!). I like the guy, but I feel lighter somehow knowing he's not going to be around for a few weeks.
----------------------------------------------
I had stopped reading "loss blogs" for a while. November to January...not a bad run. But I guess I couldn't leave it alone for too long, because lately I've been opening the drawer. You know the one. The mental drawer where all the sadness lives. Slowly...a little bit at a time. I've been visiting the Babyloss directory and surfing through all the new blogs with all the new losses. I hate how the list keeps growing. But at the same time, I find myself oddly comforted by reading through the words of those mothers. I know where they are because I've been there. And while I really am in a whole new place in my life I realize that it's not so very far from that place. It would be so easy to fall...to let go and drown in the sorrow again. But I won't. I can't. I have to hang on...even if it's just by the fingernails.
----------------------------------------------
I don't often bitch about my husband on this blog because I don't want to air dirty laundry in a place that he reads (Hi Steve!). But since I've actually bitched TO him about this particular point, I think I can share it here without feeling like I'm unfairly ambushing him.
I've been waiting for construction of a dog run in our back yard for three years. It involves a lot of hard work and I know it will take time and effort. It involves digging multiple post holes and hanging fence and pouring concreted...back breaking labor. I've been very patient (I'm actually impatient...just stewing about it silently).
My husband got an outdoor antenna so that he can get his local television channels in high definition. He will have to mount it on a post. He plans to go out...in January...in Northeast Ohio...in a foot of snow...to dig the hole and plant the post. Am I wrong in wanting to wring his neck?
----------------------------------------------
Bitching about the husband leads me to a topic that I've been meaning to post about for a while. It's NOT a bitch about my husband...just an observation about life in general. My husband is no worse than any other man. In fact, he does quite a bit around the house to help. But that is exactly the point. That phrase includes the "to help" part.
Have you ever noticed that when a family welcomes a baby, it's the woman who makes all the changes in her life to accommodate the new creature? Some of it is by design, but a lot of it is just nonsense created by custom or tradition or whatever. We still live in a society where the woman is responsible for organizing everyone...getting them out of bed in the morning...directing/driving them to their appropriate daytime activities...and getting them back home again. The woman is responsible for feeding and clothing and cleaning the members of her family and the place in which they live. If you're VERY lucky as a woman, you find a mate who will take some of this responsibility from you. But it depends on the graciousness of your man and his commitment to lightening YOUR load. It is, ultimately, still OUR designated burden as women to do all these things (hence the reason I say things like, "Your doing dishes? Wait. I think I'm having a heart attack from the shock.").
I wonder why this is. You want clean underwear? Why is it my responsibility to wash them? You ate dinner on those dishes...why must I be responsible for washing them? The windows are dirty with dog nose prints or the bathroom mirror is dirty with toothpaste spittle. Why do I have to wipe them off? Why doesn't a man feel the need to take ownership of the house and the belongings he pays for with his salary (just as much as a woman does in most cases)?
I'm not talking obvious male chauvinism here. Just subtle cues that a woman's place is still considered to be in the home...even if she doesn't want to be (or can't afford to be). And they come from women as well as men in the belief that we have to "do it all." Why can't we have the mindset that if we don't have time to do the dishes, they'll still get done? Why can't we trust that the family will not go without clean underwear because even if you're insanely busy with a fussy baby all day, someone (other than you) will make sure it gets done? Instead of running ourselves ragged and feeling guilty that stuff is left undone at the end of the day...why can't we do what we can and feel confident that the rest will be taken care of by our male counterparts?
I've got lots of theories...none of which make me sound like I like my man.
----------------------------------------------
I can not remember the last time I went out to see a movie in the theater. I'm thinking it was our attempt to see Chicken Little in November of 2005 with Samuel.
Sad.
----------------------------------------------
I have thank you notes to write and I don't wanna.
----------------------------------------------
My baby is outgrowing his 0-3 month clothes already. I'm not sad about it because he has some awesome 3-6 month clothes that I can't wait to see him in. And I love this phase so much more than the newborn blob stage. Smiles and conversations and movement...seeing him experience it all for the first time...seeing him interact with his big brother. Having Sam melt my heart when he says, unsolicited, "I love being a big brother." This is the good stuff we've been waiting for. And it IS good.
----------------------------------------------
Cleaning and crocheting to do...
...and I think I'm going to get roped into helping put up that damn antenna...
so I better get going.
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Saturday, January 26, 2008
Four years
Peaceful thoughts to my friend, Kelly.
Thank you for the pictures. I wish you didn't have to take them that way.
Thank you for the pictures. I wish you didn't have to take them that way.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Really bad jokes
So the ladies at my office decided I was going to have a baby shower. I didn't want one and I tried to tell them I didn't want one, but they disregarded my wishes and planned one anyway. Their justification was that I had "earned this."
They told me when it would be and arranged food and everything. It would have been rude not to show up. Ever the people pleaser, I went without putting up a fuss.
It was held in the office conference room over the standard lunch hour and really, it was quite lovely. Myles was a perfect sleepy baby...hanging out in the sling or draped across my friend Lisa's chest. We had a casual lunch of pizza (that someone claimed to be the best in northeast Ohio) and cake with baby blue icing (and Myles' name misspelled). There were lots of pretty wrapped presents and all the ladies engaged in the obligatory oohing and aahing over Myles and the adorable little baby gifts for him.
One of the ladies told me that her card had been lost somewhere between home and the office, so she would give it to me when she found it (IF she found it). I laughed and said I had done that with a mutual friend's baby gift. His son was born in February and I gave him a gift without the card I had misplaced. Three months later, while cleaning out my desk, I found the card, signed it, and gave it to him. Everyone laughed at the story.
Then R (used to be referred to as new mommy co-worker on this blog) said, "Yeah, then there was J's bar exam congratulations card that sat in T's desk for a year and a half."
Not quite connecting the dots, I asked T with a laugh, "You lost it for a year and a half?"
R said, "No...it's just that J kept failing the bar exam...," and everyone laughed.
But I can't help but wonder...
Have the baby congratulations cards I just opened been sitting around in someone's desk for two years?
That's just not so funny.
They told me when it would be and arranged food and everything. It would have been rude not to show up. Ever the people pleaser, I went without putting up a fuss.
It was held in the office conference room over the standard lunch hour and really, it was quite lovely. Myles was a perfect sleepy baby...hanging out in the sling or draped across my friend Lisa's chest. We had a casual lunch of pizza (that someone claimed to be the best in northeast Ohio) and cake with baby blue icing (and Myles' name misspelled). There were lots of pretty wrapped presents and all the ladies engaged in the obligatory oohing and aahing over Myles and the adorable little baby gifts for him.
One of the ladies told me that her card had been lost somewhere between home and the office, so she would give it to me when she found it (IF she found it). I laughed and said I had done that with a mutual friend's baby gift. His son was born in February and I gave him a gift without the card I had misplaced. Three months later, while cleaning out my desk, I found the card, signed it, and gave it to him. Everyone laughed at the story.
Then R (used to be referred to as new mommy co-worker on this blog) said, "Yeah, then there was J's bar exam congratulations card that sat in T's desk for a year and a half."
Not quite connecting the dots, I asked T with a laugh, "You lost it for a year and a half?"
R said, "No...it's just that J kept failing the bar exam...," and everyone laughed.
But I can't help but wonder...
Have the baby congratulations cards I just opened been sitting around in someone's desk for two years?
That's just not so funny.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
My album cover
For Niobe
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Quote: "The average Ph.D. thesis is nothing but a transference of bones from one graveyard to another." J. Frank Dobie (1888 - 1964), "A Texan in England", 1945.
Photo found here
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Quote: "The average Ph.D. thesis is nothing but a transference of bones from one graveyard to another." J. Frank Dobie (1888 - 1964), "A Texan in England", 1945.
Photo found here
Ohio girls
Three men were sitting together, bragging about how they had given their new wives duties.
The first man had married a woman from Indiana and bragged that he had told his wife she was going to do all the dishes and house cleaning that needed done at their house. He said that it took a couple days, but on the third day he came home to a clean house, and the dishes were all washed and put away.
The second man had married a woman from Pennsylvania. He bragged that he had given his wife orders that she was to do all the cleaning, the dishes, and the cooking. He told them that the first day he didn't see any results, but the next day it was better. By the third day, his house was clean, the dishes were done, and he had a huge dinner on the table.
The third had married an Ohio girl. He said that he told her that her duties were to keep the house clean, dishes washed, lawn mowed, laundry washed, and hot meals on the table for every meal. He said the first day he didn't see anything, the second day he didn't see anything, but by the third day most of the swelling had gone down and he could see a little out of his left eye, just enough to fix himself a bite to eat, load the dishwasher, and telephone a landscaper.
The first man had married a woman from Indiana and bragged that he had told his wife she was going to do all the dishes and house cleaning that needed done at their house. He said that it took a couple days, but on the third day he came home to a clean house, and the dishes were all washed and put away.
The second man had married a woman from Pennsylvania. He bragged that he had given his wife orders that she was to do all the cleaning, the dishes, and the cooking. He told them that the first day he didn't see any results, but the next day it was better. By the third day, his house was clean, the dishes were done, and he had a huge dinner on the table.
The third had married an Ohio girl. He said that he told her that her duties were to keep the house clean, dishes washed, lawn mowed, laundry washed, and hot meals on the table for every meal. He said the first day he didn't see anything, the second day he didn't see anything, but by the third day most of the swelling had gone down and he could see a little out of his left eye, just enough to fix himself a bite to eat, load the dishwasher, and telephone a landscaper.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
survival instincts of a desperate working mom
Shots yesterday.
Forgot the tylenol this morning.
Cranky baby who needs sleep.
Won't take the pacifier...
...but likes to lick pear wedges.
Forgot the tylenol this morning.
Cranky baby who needs sleep.
Won't take the pacifier...
...but likes to lick pear wedges.
Monday, January 21, 2008
2 month appointment
11 pounds, 8 ounces (50th percentile)
23 1/2 inches tall (75th percentile)
Three shots and lots of screaming (Sam "helped" by yelling, "I can't take it anymore.").
Snuggly afternoon to (over)compensate.
23 1/2 inches tall (75th percentile)
Three shots and lots of screaming (Sam "helped" by yelling, "I can't take it anymore.").
Snuggly afternoon to (over)compensate.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Thank you!
Miscellaneous thoughts
I'm obsessed with these boys and their smiles.
And look what I was blessed with today...
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I started one of those "about me" memes that's floating around. I was so bored with myself and my answers that I deleted it. And then I realized...I'm boring...there is no earth-shattering tragedy to write about...things are normal! I think I cried a little bit. (and no, I'm still not posting the meme...I may revel in my boringness...but I won't purposely subject anyone else to it).
Therefore, it's only fair to warn you that Friday miscellaneous thoughts will be boring and child-centered until further notice.
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Myles likes...no...LOVES...Paz, the Ready Set Learn penguin on Discovery Kids. I guess I can live with that. Sam's first tv obsession was Rugrats. Talk about an annoying television program!
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My grandfather was eulogized as the kind of man who did what needed done without complaining about it. I want to be more like him in that respect. In fact, I want to learn to curb my tongue quite a bit. I am too harsh with people I love. I don't have to say everything that comes to mind. I don't have to be so critical. I can be more tactful.
These are things I'm working on.
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Sam is going to be SIX in May! I don't know why, but that thought shocks me. It also inevitably leads me to thoughts of two ghost children running around here. Especially when I see their combined faces looking up at me from the safety of my arms. What would their smiles have looked like, I wonder?
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Still over prepregnancy weight...but wearing my prepregnancy pants comfortably now. I'm trying to curb my emotional eating tendencies and channel my energies into more positive activities. TRYING. Funeral weekend made me take several steps backwards...but I'm back on track now.
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More reasons to worry...
I thought I would breastfeed Myles "on demand." But now I realize that he might forget to make his demand until he's screaming-hungry (when nursing becomes quite challenging). Instead, I'm doing what they tell you not to do and going by the clock. Will this cause him to need therapy when he's older?
I also worry because Myles is almost exclusively breastfed while Sam was predominantly formula fed (neither of us had "the stuff" for exclusive breastfeeding thanks to his impatience and what I recognize now was my slight postpartum depression). What if one is smarter than the other? No, let's be honest and ask the question I'm really thinking. What if Sam is smarter than Myles? Will this be another failure for me to accept? What if Myles is smarter than Sam? The guilt will eat me up for failing Sam.
Yeah...this parenting thing is a piece of cake.
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Shanna has all the details of baby Marjorie's arrival up...with PICTURES!
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Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Monday, January 14, 2008
Taking note
There are so many little moments that slip by without note in our lifetime. Not that I don't notice them, I just don't take note of them. I think that's part of why I continue to blog. I forces me to slow down each day and process all the moments of my day...forces me to literally take note of those little moments that tend to get lost if I don't focus on them. And when I do sit down and take note, I'm pretty amazed at what I find.
This morning, Samuel was playing with Myles on my bed while I watched the Colbert Report. Muhammad Yunus was on the show, talking about his book, Creating a World Without Poverty: Social Business and the Future of Capitalism (which has now been added to my ever-growing wish list of books I want to read when I magically find more time in the day). Mr. Yunus was also talking about what qualifications people must meet to participate in his micro-loan program for the "very poor" in Bangladesh. He said one of the easiest ways to identify people who qualify is to see if they have any furniture. If someone has furniture, they have too much money to qualify. Typically, their clients live in one room homes with leaky roofs and no furniture.
My beautiful little five-year old sweetheart, who had apparently stopped playing with his little brother in our giant king sized bed, was watching intently. He climbed down with a determined look on his face and headed for the door. I asked him where he was going and he said he was going to go get some money to send to the poor people so they could buy some furniture. I suddenly felt very ashamed of myself and very impressed by my son.
As I tried to properly formulate this entry to convey what I wanted it to about our boy, I flashed back two days to the funeral home when he started to cry because he "was sad about great-grandpa," a man he has only briefly met a handful of times in his entire five years. I remembered him refusing to talk about it because he "was afraid it would make mommy cry." I recall his voice as he said he was glad that Alex and Travis have a dog (Isaac) to play with.
I realized these little moments are all noteworthy because they tell of his innate kindness...his capacity to love. All completely spontaneous and un-coached moments. Empathy and selflessness. Love and understanding. All things that could slip by if I'm not careful enough to take note of them and reinforce them properly.
I am so lucky to have this little creature in my life. I'm going to make it a point to be more careful and take notes. I think we're both worth the time and effort.
This morning, Samuel was playing with Myles on my bed while I watched the Colbert Report. Muhammad Yunus was on the show, talking about his book, Creating a World Without Poverty: Social Business and the Future of Capitalism (which has now been added to my ever-growing wish list of books I want to read when I magically find more time in the day). Mr. Yunus was also talking about what qualifications people must meet to participate in his micro-loan program for the "very poor" in Bangladesh. He said one of the easiest ways to identify people who qualify is to see if they have any furniture. If someone has furniture, they have too much money to qualify. Typically, their clients live in one room homes with leaky roofs and no furniture.
My beautiful little five-year old sweetheart, who had apparently stopped playing with his little brother in our giant king sized bed, was watching intently. He climbed down with a determined look on his face and headed for the door. I asked him where he was going and he said he was going to go get some money to send to the poor people so they could buy some furniture. I suddenly felt very ashamed of myself and very impressed by my son.
As I tried to properly formulate this entry to convey what I wanted it to about our boy, I flashed back two days to the funeral home when he started to cry because he "was sad about great-grandpa," a man he has only briefly met a handful of times in his entire five years. I remembered him refusing to talk about it because he "was afraid it would make mommy cry." I recall his voice as he said he was glad that Alex and Travis have a dog (Isaac) to play with.
I realized these little moments are all noteworthy because they tell of his innate kindness...his capacity to love. All completely spontaneous and un-coached moments. Empathy and selflessness. Love and understanding. All things that could slip by if I'm not careful enough to take note of them and reinforce them properly.
I am so lucky to have this little creature in my life. I'm going to make it a point to be more careful and take notes. I think we're both worth the time and effort.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Welcome to the world baby Piglet!
I'm sorry I'm posting this after the fact. Circumstances left me out of town and without access to post the big news. Shinny had her baby girl! Everyone is healthy and happy. I will leave the details to her to post because I'd probably mess them up anyway.
Congratulations to the whole family!
Congratulations to the whole family!
Friday, January 11, 2008
What's behind door #4
I don't remember where I heard it said, but it certainly seems true that you know you're a grown-up when it seems like all you do is attend weddings and funerals. I also don't know where I heard it said (I think it was someone here), but it certainly is true that time will drag you along into the future whether you want to go or not.
Yesterday was my follow-up appointment with Dr. A. and I was struck by the stark differences between today and when this journey began. Back then, the trees were full and green. The weather was turning warmer and summer was beckoning us to come out and play. The demolition had just begun on the bridge along the highway between my house and the hospital. I was so sad and scared.
I always thought the summer after losing Alex was the longest summer of my life. It turns out, the summer of 2007 was worse. And as fall approached, I remember noting the changes in the weather and the trees. I kept track of the progress of the bridge construction because, in my mind, each piece being replaced could be the potential marker of my own personal disaster. I wanted to remember each tiny detail just in case that day, that moment, brought my world crashing down again.
I will always remember the images of the summer and autumn of 2007 now...but for a different reason. The changing colors on the trees were spectacular. The autumn weather was beautiful. And the bridge construction proceeded beautifully. A giant hulking skeleton being built high above the river below...piece by mammoth piece. And yesterday, when I drove by, I actually saw the last piece being lifted into place, complete with American flag...the traditional ironworker salute to a job complete.
I walked through the parking garage and into the hospital, pushing Myles in his stroller, without a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. My feet felt lighter than they ever had on any of my previous visits. And I suddenly realized that, for the very first time, I didn't have fear as my companion as I entered those doors and rode the elevator to the fourth floor.
Dr. A. hugged me and kissed my cheek and wished me a Happy New Year. I returned the gesture, we chatted, and as we were saying goodbye I told him that I hoped he wasn't offended if I said I hoped not to see him for a long time. He smiled and said we'd stay in touch no matter what.
It felt like a door was closing...and despite my joy at being done with that part of things, a piece of me wanted to beat my fists against the door and scream and cry. This is how it ends...this part of my life. And I hate it. I hate my own story. I hate what is behind that door. I hate that that door is closed with all the details behind it. Though someone told me to take note that the door isn't locked, I'm not sure I would ever be strong enough to open it and invite the fear to visit again. And I hate that too.
But there is no time to be self-indulgent and cry. Because in true time-keeps-ticking fashion, I walked out of the hospital and started planning to attend my grandpa's funeral.
I wish I could have figured out a way for sadness to go sit with fear behind that door I closed. But I'm lighter without fear in tow...so I'll deal with the sadness...yesterday's, today's, and tomorrow's.
Yesterday was my follow-up appointment with Dr. A. and I was struck by the stark differences between today and when this journey began. Back then, the trees were full and green. The weather was turning warmer and summer was beckoning us to come out and play. The demolition had just begun on the bridge along the highway between my house and the hospital. I was so sad and scared.
I always thought the summer after losing Alex was the longest summer of my life. It turns out, the summer of 2007 was worse. And as fall approached, I remember noting the changes in the weather and the trees. I kept track of the progress of the bridge construction because, in my mind, each piece being replaced could be the potential marker of my own personal disaster. I wanted to remember each tiny detail just in case that day, that moment, brought my world crashing down again.
I will always remember the images of the summer and autumn of 2007 now...but for a different reason. The changing colors on the trees were spectacular. The autumn weather was beautiful. And the bridge construction proceeded beautifully. A giant hulking skeleton being built high above the river below...piece by mammoth piece. And yesterday, when I drove by, I actually saw the last piece being lifted into place, complete with American flag...the traditional ironworker salute to a job complete.
I walked through the parking garage and into the hospital, pushing Myles in his stroller, without a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. My feet felt lighter than they ever had on any of my previous visits. And I suddenly realized that, for the very first time, I didn't have fear as my companion as I entered those doors and rode the elevator to the fourth floor.
Dr. A. hugged me and kissed my cheek and wished me a Happy New Year. I returned the gesture, we chatted, and as we were saying goodbye I told him that I hoped he wasn't offended if I said I hoped not to see him for a long time. He smiled and said we'd stay in touch no matter what.
It felt like a door was closing...and despite my joy at being done with that part of things, a piece of me wanted to beat my fists against the door and scream and cry. This is how it ends...this part of my life. And I hate it. I hate my own story. I hate what is behind that door. I hate that that door is closed with all the details behind it. Though someone told me to take note that the door isn't locked, I'm not sure I would ever be strong enough to open it and invite the fear to visit again. And I hate that too.
But there is no time to be self-indulgent and cry. Because in true time-keeps-ticking fashion, I walked out of the hospital and started planning to attend my grandpa's funeral.
I wish I could have figured out a way for sadness to go sit with fear behind that door I closed. But I'm lighter without fear in tow...so I'll deal with the sadness...yesterday's, today's, and tomorrow's.
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
William Barney Balka
Just a handful of pictures and a few words...that's all I really know about my grandpa's life. Maybe the fact that the details are so few and far between is what makes each one so lovely and sweet. He made so many normal moments that would generally be considered unimportant...feel important.
He would take me for rides to the post office and A&W root beer floats (a tradition that I only now realize was the driving force behind his yearly contributions to my ever-growing stamp collection).
He bought me my first watch.
He taught me how to fish.
He shared his love of dogs with me.
His favorite candy was "circus peanuts," though he could eat anything sweet.
He called me "punkin" and always listened when I talked about my life.
He didn't talk a lot.
He was usually a silent presence. Strong. Steady. Unless he had a joke to tell. Then he could laugh big bold laughs that would make everyone around him laugh. (He loved to catch people off guard by answering the phone with, "City morgue...you stab'em we slab'em," like it was a normal greeting.)
He saw things as a marine that would destroy lesser men. He saw things he never talked about. But he still found reasons to smile in this world. He was a marine through and through...
He was a husband and father...
He was my grandpa...
He was OUR grandpa...
After years of health problems Grandpa died peacefully in his sleep this morning. He joins his wife and two great-grandsons in death.
I hope that wherever he is, he knows how much we love him and how much we're going to miss him.
He would take me for rides to the post office and A&W root beer floats (a tradition that I only now realize was the driving force behind his yearly contributions to my ever-growing stamp collection).
He bought me my first watch.
He taught me how to fish.
He shared his love of dogs with me.
His favorite candy was "circus peanuts," though he could eat anything sweet.
He called me "punkin" and always listened when I talked about my life.
He didn't talk a lot.
He was usually a silent presence. Strong. Steady. Unless he had a joke to tell. Then he could laugh big bold laughs that would make everyone around him laugh. (He loved to catch people off guard by answering the phone with, "City morgue...you stab'em we slab'em," like it was a normal greeting.)
He saw things as a marine that would destroy lesser men. He saw things he never talked about. But he still found reasons to smile in this world. He was a marine through and through...
He was a husband and father...
He was my grandpa...
He was OUR grandpa...
After years of health problems Grandpa died peacefully in his sleep this morning. He joins his wife and two great-grandsons in death.
I hope that wherever he is, he knows how much we love him and how much we're going to miss him.
Myles smiles
Not at me and not because of me.
He smiled and cooed at the photo of Samuel on my bookshelf at work.
I knew that was a good picture of Sam when I reacted exactly the same way upon seeing it. Now I have confirmation.
If only I could catch it on camera...
He smiled and cooed at the photo of Samuel on my bookshelf at work.
I knew that was a good picture of Sam when I reacted exactly the same way upon seeing it. Now I have confirmation.
If only I could catch it on camera...
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Not a bad day
~Was able to wear heels and prepregnancy pants.
~Swung through the McDonalds drive-thru for hashbrowns and coffee.
~Sam made it to school EARLY.
~I made it to work EARLY.
~The maintenance men rearranged my office furniture. While they did break my computer keyboard, they were fast and didn't make fun of my need for playpen space to my face.
~Myles seemed to enjoy the day.
~Found out my coworker who had a miscarriage is tentatively pregnant again.
~Got very little actual work done, but got my office cleaned and rearranged to be baby-friendly, followed up on some pending matters, organized my workload so I can start in earnest tomorrow.
~Picked Sam up on time.
Not bad if I do say so myself.
I do have a few things to ponder after this first day...
~I need an exercise routine. One day back in heels and my legs are killing me.
~In line with the weight considerations, I need to come up with portable and easy meals that I can eat in a hurry.
~How to answer phone calls with Myles in the room. You just never know when he's going to lose his mind and start screaming. It gets a little tricky.
~What do they mean when my coworkers say, "Let me know if there is anything I can do to help"???
~Is it irrational to think that I might need a portable DVD player in my office to entertain the baby in a couple months? Is he going to get bored and suffer sensory deprivation over time?
~Sweaters are too warm and button-downs are definitely easier to deal with for boob access. How much can I spend without Steve giving me "the look"?
~Swung through the McDonalds drive-thru for hashbrowns and coffee.
~Sam made it to school EARLY.
~I made it to work EARLY.
~The maintenance men rearranged my office furniture. While they did break my computer keyboard, they were fast and didn't make fun of my need for playpen space to my face.
~Myles seemed to enjoy the day.
~Found out my coworker who had a miscarriage is tentatively pregnant again.
~Got very little actual work done, but got my office cleaned and rearranged to be baby-friendly, followed up on some pending matters, organized my workload so I can start in earnest tomorrow.
~Picked Sam up on time.
Not bad if I do say so myself.
I do have a few things to ponder after this first day...
~I need an exercise routine. One day back in heels and my legs are killing me.
~In line with the weight considerations, I need to come up with portable and easy meals that I can eat in a hurry.
~How to answer phone calls with Myles in the room. You just never know when he's going to lose his mind and start screaming. It gets a little tricky.
~What do they mean when my coworkers say, "Let me know if there is anything I can do to help"???
~Is it irrational to think that I might need a portable DVD player in my office to entertain the baby in a couple months? Is he going to get bored and suffer sensory deprivation over time?
~Sweaters are too warm and button-downs are definitely easier to deal with for boob access. How much can I spend without Steve giving me "the look"?
Monday, January 07, 2008
V words
--------------------------------
Volcano
Sam: "Mommy, I know this looks a bit like a teddy bear, but it's a volcano."
Me: "What you have to do is put hot lava coming out of it and it will look more like a volcano and less like a teddy bear."
--------------------------------
Van
Sam: "But I don't know how to draw a van."
Me: "Draw a box with wheels...that's pretty much it."
Sam: "Oh, you're right...a van is pretty much a box with wheels."
--------------------------------
I'm looking up words that start with the letter V for my son's kindergarten homework. He is supposed to draw pictures of things that start with V. So we're really talking V nouns. I must admit to being stumped by kindergarten homework. That is really quite embarrassing.
--------------------------------
Volcano
Sam: "Mommy, I know this looks a bit like a teddy bear, but it's a volcano."
Me: "What you have to do is put hot lava coming out of it and it will look more like a volcano and less like a teddy bear."
--------------------------------
Van
Sam: "But I don't know how to draw a van."
Me: "Draw a box with wheels...that's pretty much it."
Sam: "Oh, you're right...a van is pretty much a box with wheels."
--------------------------------
I'm looking up words that start with the letter V for my son's kindergarten homework. He is supposed to draw pictures of things that start with V. So we're really talking V nouns. I must admit to being stumped by kindergarten homework. That is really quite embarrassing.
--------------------------------
Legal Ethics
I took a course in Legal Ethics. I passed an exam called the Multistate Professional Responsibility Exam. I passed the Ethics portion of the Ohio State Bar Examination. But I don't recall what you're supposed to do when you suspect a client is lying to you. My inclination is to get really pissed off and say so. But that's not really helpful, is it?
Sunday, January 06, 2008
No need to explain
I had this long blog post typed up about why I feel like I need to do things the way I'm doing them. It was filled with explanations and pleas for understanding. I deleted it.
I've always done that...sought approval for what I'm doing and how I'm doing it. I find it very difficult to live my life without someone telling me what a good job I'm doing. I thrive on positive reinforcement and literally feel sick to my stomach when I think someone disapproves or is disappointed in me in the slightest.
I'm over that now.
I'm doing what I'm doing with my kids and my job for my own reasons...and I'll make it work somehow. That doesn't mean I won't complain about it. That doesn't mean I won't delve into self-pity every now and again and be completely and totally envious of the male half of our species who don't have to worry about this stuff simply because they don't have the boobs.
But it is what it is. I'm not superwoman and I'm not trying to be. People are just going to have to understand. And if they don't...well...so be it.
Right now, I need to focus on more important matters. Like how we have six inches of snow on the ground, but there are still mosquitoes living in my house. Seriously. What the frick frack is that about?
I've always done that...sought approval for what I'm doing and how I'm doing it. I find it very difficult to live my life without someone telling me what a good job I'm doing. I thrive on positive reinforcement and literally feel sick to my stomach when I think someone disapproves or is disappointed in me in the slightest.
I'm over that now.
I'm doing what I'm doing with my kids and my job for my own reasons...and I'll make it work somehow. That doesn't mean I won't complain about it. That doesn't mean I won't delve into self-pity every now and again and be completely and totally envious of the male half of our species who don't have to worry about this stuff simply because they don't have the boobs.
But it is what it is. I'm not superwoman and I'm not trying to be. People are just going to have to understand. And if they don't...well...so be it.
Right now, I need to focus on more important matters. Like how we have six inches of snow on the ground, but there are still mosquitoes living in my house. Seriously. What the frick frack is that about?
Friday, January 04, 2008
A better plan of attack
So yesterday was quite overwhelming. It was my first "full day" back at work since November 19th. Only now I've got Myles in tow and I am quite nervous about it all.
I had really just gotten the working-mom kindergarten routine down with Sam (and was feeling somewhat confident about it) when Myles arrived. Then I had six weeks to gain confidence in just being a mom to two living children and dusting off those baby skills that once were second nature but have been stored away like my skinny jeans...for that dream of "some day."
Now, as I try to become superwoman and do it all, there's not so much confidence.
By nature, I'm a planner. I like to imagine contingencies...plan for possibilities. But with this, I'm starting from square one in a life I hadn't really planned. I never in a million years thought I'd be drafting pleadings with a baby strapped to my chest in a sling. I never imagined I would have to consider whether the baby would scream if I answered my ringing telephone. I didn't plan on scheduling my time around leaking boobs and dirty diapers. There is no easy or pretty way to deal with it and it was...in a word...nerve-wracking.
I have clearly been spoiled by the convenience of daycare. I'll admit that. It's so much easier to pack a baby and his diaper bag up and ship him off to let a trusted friend take care of all the daily little details. It's going to take a lot of planning to do this.
I'm also not afraid to admit that I'm more than a little afraid I won't be able to do this. Work...and take care of a baby? Is it possible that I can do both and one or the other won't seriously suffer from neglect? How am I going to measure success anyway? And as I generally worry about what others will think of me, I can't help but think of the impact this will have on peoples' opinions of me. Will they admire what I am doing and the reasons I am doing it? Or will they deduct points from the serious professional column on their mental scorecard?
So clearly, time is going to be an issue. I'm going to have to get out of bed for the day quite a bit earlier than I did yesterday. Planning for the worst possible nighttime routine, and therefore avoiding complete exhaustion, I'm going to have to go to bed much earlier than 11pm. I'm going to have to pack homework, lunches, and diaper bags up the night before. I'm going to have to plan dinners that are easy to make. And I'm going to have to keep better track of everything in my day planner. Sam wants to play baseball in the spring. I've got to get my act together before then or I will simply lose my mind.
I just have to make this work until the summer months when I can send both boys off to daycare a few days a week. Then when school starts next year we'll have a whole other schedule to figure out.
I don't know how it is that more women throughout history have not gone mad with the stress of it all. But I'm gonna plan...and hope like crazy that at least one or two things go according to plan.
I had really just gotten the working-mom kindergarten routine down with Sam (and was feeling somewhat confident about it) when Myles arrived. Then I had six weeks to gain confidence in just being a mom to two living children and dusting off those baby skills that once were second nature but have been stored away like my skinny jeans...for that dream of "some day."
Now, as I try to become superwoman and do it all, there's not so much confidence.
By nature, I'm a planner. I like to imagine contingencies...plan for possibilities. But with this, I'm starting from square one in a life I hadn't really planned. I never in a million years thought I'd be drafting pleadings with a baby strapped to my chest in a sling. I never imagined I would have to consider whether the baby would scream if I answered my ringing telephone. I didn't plan on scheduling my time around leaking boobs and dirty diapers. There is no easy or pretty way to deal with it and it was...in a word...nerve-wracking.
I have clearly been spoiled by the convenience of daycare. I'll admit that. It's so much easier to pack a baby and his diaper bag up and ship him off to let a trusted friend take care of all the daily little details. It's going to take a lot of planning to do this.
I'm also not afraid to admit that I'm more than a little afraid I won't be able to do this. Work...and take care of a baby? Is it possible that I can do both and one or the other won't seriously suffer from neglect? How am I going to measure success anyway? And as I generally worry about what others will think of me, I can't help but think of the impact this will have on peoples' opinions of me. Will they admire what I am doing and the reasons I am doing it? Or will they deduct points from the serious professional column on their mental scorecard?
So clearly, time is going to be an issue. I'm going to have to get out of bed for the day quite a bit earlier than I did yesterday. Planning for the worst possible nighttime routine, and therefore avoiding complete exhaustion, I'm going to have to go to bed much earlier than 11pm. I'm going to have to pack homework, lunches, and diaper bags up the night before. I'm going to have to plan dinners that are easy to make. And I'm going to have to keep better track of everything in my day planner. Sam wants to play baseball in the spring. I've got to get my act together before then or I will simply lose my mind.
I just have to make this work until the summer months when I can send both boys off to daycare a few days a week. Then when school starts next year we'll have a whole other schedule to figure out.
I don't know how it is that more women throughout history have not gone mad with the stress of it all. But I'm gonna plan...and hope like crazy that at least one or two things go according to plan.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Back in the swing of things...?
Awake and wishing I were sleeping from 1:30 to 4am.
Out to the minivan without breaking my neck in the snow and ice (must replace work shoes with boots).
Sam was late to school.
The cover blew off Myles' face as we walked into the office and the freezing wind made him gasp for breath.
Office coffee is bad.
Nursed in the office. Lots of thoughts about all the times I closed the door to cry.
On the phone with clients and citizens who I would love to tell to grow up already and start being reasonable.
Lights off...baby in sling sleeping.
Email from my boss that says, "Can you resume control of this matter? I don’t have the time right now. I have stuff on my desk that you should have."
Ouch.
Tell my boss, "Yes," and get second email that says, "Thank you. I love you." Sweet...but still...ouch.
Blogging about my crappy day (hey, some things will never change).
I'd rather be home crocheting. Heck, I'd rather be home doing laundry and dishes.
It's not even noon.
Please let this day get better.
Please.
Out to the minivan without breaking my neck in the snow and ice (must replace work shoes with boots).
Sam was late to school.
The cover blew off Myles' face as we walked into the office and the freezing wind made him gasp for breath.
Office coffee is bad.
Nursed in the office. Lots of thoughts about all the times I closed the door to cry.
On the phone with clients and citizens who I would love to tell to grow up already and start being reasonable.
Lights off...baby in sling sleeping.
Email from my boss that says, "Can you resume control of this matter? I don’t have the time right now. I have stuff on my desk that you should have."
Ouch.
Tell my boss, "Yes," and get second email that says, "Thank you. I love you." Sweet...but still...ouch.
Blogging about my crappy day (hey, some things will never change).
I'd rather be home crocheting. Heck, I'd rather be home doing laundry and dishes.
It's not even noon.
Please let this day get better.
Please.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
2007 blog review
I saw this on another blog and thought it was an interesting idea.
The first line of the first post of each month...
January - Please don't kick my ass like 2005 and 2006 did...ok?
February - Today I woke up to find a dear friend (D) is pregnant with her fifth child.
March - Favorite recipe to serve when you have company?
April - Sam: How can it be raining and the sun be shining so beautiful at the same time?
May - Kathy said: The other thing is, once you get over the fear of ectopic, then you'll replace it with another worry.
June - The month-that-shall-not-be-named is DONE!
July - Really. To everyone who has emailed and inquired, I am fine.
August - I got this email from a friend (who I love dearly)...Sorry to give unasked for advice, but here it comes.
September - We were watching two baseball games on split screen tv...the Cubs on one side and the Indians on the other.
October - I work in the civil division of the county prosecutor's office for my county.
November - So...yeah...the coffee can... (this one still makes me laugh when I think about it)
December - We rock gently back and forth...wrapped in the softest of blankets...skin to skin...warmth on warmth.
It's been a hell of a year.
The first line of the first post of each month...
January - Please don't kick my ass like 2005 and 2006 did...ok?
February - Today I woke up to find a dear friend (D) is pregnant with her fifth child.
March - Favorite recipe to serve when you have company?
April - Sam: How can it be raining and the sun be shining so beautiful at the same time?
May - Kathy said: The other thing is, once you get over the fear of ectopic, then you'll replace it with another worry.
June - The month-that-shall-not-be-named is DONE!
July - Really. To everyone who has emailed and inquired, I am fine.
August - I got this email from a friend (who I love dearly)...Sorry to give unasked for advice, but here it comes.
September - We were watching two baseball games on split screen tv...the Cubs on one side and the Indians on the other.
October - I work in the civil division of the county prosecutor's office for my county.
November - So...yeah...the coffee can... (this one still makes me laugh when I think about it)
December - We rock gently back and forth...wrapped in the softest of blankets...skin to skin...warmth on warmth.
It's been a hell of a year.
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Mom
My mom insisted on living independently. She wanted to live in the two-story house she and my dad built in the 70s, despite the fact that da...
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When I was 18 years old, I wasn't paying attention while driving and I crashed my parents' van into a cruck (car with a truck bed) t...
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Hi Everyone, this is Cathy's husband Stephen. I am proud to announce that Myles Fisher entered the world this afternoon at 3:51 PM He ...
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"Unfortunately, honey, the baby is no longer alive.". -Ultrasound doctor