Isnt There Someone You Could Have Called?

Caroline Kennedy, 3, kissing her baby brother John F. Kennedy Jr. in 1961 in Palm Beach, Florida

Copyright © Richard Avedon. All rights reserved.

As we are driving down, quasi hungover to the great capital of our nation, I say to my husband "...but really, I do want to see it. I mean, after all, when else are we going to be in Washington DC."

We had had this discussion for about 15 minutes. It was one of those where I got aggravated early in because I thought the decision was made, he agreed then in the actual moment started prevaricating. And being a dick about it.

"I didn't think you were THAT interested," he said.
"I am. I really am." I said.
"I thought you had just seen it in the magazine." he qualified.
"I did. I mean, yes, I DID see it in the magazine because otherwise I wouldn't have known but it's only an hour away, and what's an hour, really? What else are we doing?"

I must have apologized 15 times as we wended our way through the equivelent of Rt One's Automile. But longer. And more congested.

Stop, go. Stop, go. Stop, Stop now go ...QUICK!

We parked a thousand miles away. We saw a meter, we are both used to NY and Boston. So we grabbed it. We parked. It was broken.
"Let's just move" he said as I was already on the phone getting the pass code from the state department that deals with broken meters. I mean, for them to have the number printed ON the meter with instructions to call? Well, it seems like they expect you to call it.

It's hotter then we expected in Washington. Likely we should have worn shorts, but really, my legs are chubby and I never wear shorts so even knowing the weather, I'd have worn jeans. But a cooler top.
We walked. Careful of each others feelings.

"This was a good idea." he squeezed my hand. "Im sorry I was such a jerk about it."
"Oh NO," I said. "It was my fault. I didn't expect there to be so much traffic. I thought we were just going to be on the outskirts. I didn't realize where it was..."
"No no" he said. "Its fine. Look, you can see the monument."
"Oooooh. Cool. Phallic. Looks like Bunker Hill." I said. Unimpressed. Washington Monument. Check.
I regaled him with the story of the four of us, almost 18 years ago, sitting in
front of the Capitol building, thinking it was the white house, looking for Barbara Bush's dog in the windows. "It wasn't until WELL after we got home ad we showed the pictures to Walt that we understood that it wasn't the white house." I finished. He laughed obligingly. We kept walking.

Over 8 blocks I think. City blocks.
I asked him the day before if he knew where it was. Then that morning if he had looked it up. If it was open.

As we rounded the final corner, crossing in front of an embassy, tour buses, the monument walkway, the Daughter of The Revolution house - we stopped in front of the gallery.

CLOSED.
Monday and Tuesday.

Ask me honestly. Honestly,
And I'll answer you honestly,
if I cried.

"Did you cry?"

For about 25 seconds my heart was in my throat and I swallowed. Hard.
Honestly.
Because Doug almost cried.
Because he really DIDN'T call. Although he led me to believe that he had.

And that's the story, my friends, of how I missed the Richard Avedon exhibit in Washington DC by one day.

We should have driven back Wednesday. But I missed Ellie, and I wanted to come home. and now that I'm home? I wish I had just waited one day.
IMAGES

Vacation Day Two - 1am

One. Period
My daughter doesn't miss me.

Two. period.
Pretzel goldfish and peanut m&ms are an AMAZING combination.

Three. Period
Katherine the Red Head from the bar is a Very Nice Girl and deserves love and happiness.

Four. Period.
Sleeping Late is a good idea. I wonder what time checkout is.

Five. Period.
Watermelon slices are also a good idea. Note to self: tell Jess Sour Patch Slices are an excellent car snack.

Six Period
I hope I wear my vintage dresses. I suspect they are in such good condition because we are in Baltimore and they were owned by elderly churchgoing black woman. There are a LOT of black woman here actually.

Seven
I am hoping to eat one more watermelon slice then go to bed...

Eight
Ok, it was 3. Goodnight.

Vacation All I Ever Wanted

Day One

All my bags are packed, I’m ready to go,
The rest of the song, I dunno….
I’m LEAVIN on a jet plane
Don’t know when I’ll be back again…
Remember that John Denver movie? Poor guy. Nothing like posthumus maligning for cutting down trees. I wonder if Annie had anything to do with it (obscure reference to John Denver's ex-wife Annie as referenced in “Annie’s Song" aka “You fill up my senses, like a boat on the water, like a walk in the forest etc etc…..” written as an apology for cheating on her)


So.

Here we are. Baltimore.

Why Baltimore? We were asked, oh, about 10 times.
“I wanted to see Camden Yards” I said.

And that was that.

And here we are. In our Priceline room. Moved once already because our waterfront room sounded – as the security guard said - “like a disco.”

That’s the gamble you take. We weren’t complaining when we called. We just wanted to know if there was a club outside because the muted house music would have eventually been problematic. If it was in fact from a club. And not a guest.

We are at the Hyatt Regency. The room rate is upwards of $340 a night. It’s a four star hotel.
Tee hee.

So we were moved. Parking lot view. From a waterfront view. I can hear an ambulance passing by. That’s the price you pay for gambling. See, because the music stopped after security came by. "Should we call back?" I asked Doug. "No," he said "Let's see what they’ll do." So it's curtains for us. Closed that is, to block out the view of the cement.

See, the funny thing is, after all the years with Fidelity I’ve never really stayed anywhere but Ritzs, Four Seasons and a few Marriotts. So I’m laughing. Because this place is about the same as a Motel 6 as far as I'm concerned. And hey, for the priceline price - $100? $105 with tax – I'm not complaining. Again, just laughing. I'd have been appalled to pat a penny more. $349. please.

We left Ellie at Grandmas. I would have shed a tear but Ellie was having none of it. She went straight to Grandma and that was the end of me. Poor grandma. She’s going to have sciatica if she doesn't put Ellie down. And poor Ellie. She has 2 chins and her wrists are about to pop off she's so chubby. Grandma's in for it.

I had to let go of my compulsions though. Grandma wanted to put Ellie in the porta crib…with her SHOES on. Immediately, it popped out of my mouth…

“Do you mind of I put her in the crib to get the fries?” she asked (Meaning out of the fryalator. We bring Fish & Chips for Harry every time we come…)
“Not with her shoes on" I said. Aghast. “The crib’ll get all dirty”
Doug's mother gave me a level look.

“ I was going to put a sheet down before she goes to bed”
“Yes but then it wont stay nice” I said. Using pure logic.
She let it go. She let me take the shoes off. As I did I said "Oh my god, I'm sorry, do whatever you want."

FUNDAMENTAL differences, you see.

Now, I adore. A-DORE my mother in law. She can do, virtually, no wrong. I ADORE her.
But for a moment I was near apoplectic shock when I saw sweet barefoot Ellie toddler across her living room floor. The same floor that she, her husband and my husband walked on, several times, from the outside in, on a rainy fall day, while letting two yellow labs in and out.

“I can always give Ellie a bath." I thought. "She’s not going to get hurt. Just filthy. It's ok, Breathe. Breathe."

See I'm growing as a person.

I also laughed when my husband made me call ahead to the hotel.
“Make sure the gps is sending us the same way that the hotel would bring us in” he directed.

Because as Chris Rocks says "Anytime you see a road called MLK Drive, do NOT go down it”

the upside

According to the Chinese Birth calender, a 39 year old woman who gets pregnant in September will have a boy.

Pfft-tooey. Boys.

Ellie bounced up and down on my stomach tonight.
Slam, Bounce, giggle, jump up, SLAM, bounce, giggle gigle.

Doug tried to stop her You'll hurt Mommy" he said. "Are you ok?" to me.
"I'm fine. Let her go. She's having fun."

So as Ellie bounced I recited in a high pitched sing song stage voice
"Get it OUT Mommy. I dont want a brother."
Get -SLAM- it -bounce- OUT -bounce- giggle giggle.

Thank god we weren't that attached.
god bless my skeptical husband.

Did I just imagine the whole thing?

poppyseed

I've dialed the phone 4 times now.

One to my regular ob and three to the perinatologist.

The conversation went something like this:

"Hi. I realize that this is very early but I just want to be sure I have everything in order. Dr R said to call him BEFORE I got pregnant again. Dr. A said that he (Dr R) can't do anything until the cerclage at 13 weeks so I don't need to see him (Dr R) prior. I don't mind whichever the outcome is, but I would like two know why those are two separate messages."

Essentially, I get it. Nothing can be done until 13 weeks. The question is, for me, why did he want to see me before? Was it for prep? Were there medications he wanted me to take, did he want a baseline on my cervix, is there some other genetic screen that may need to be done earlier? Is Dr A in line with his thoughts? Or is she assuming? Are they SURE?

I just don't want to be where I was last time.
Too late.

I also think someone needs to look at the trend. Why do I bleed first trimester? Fluke? Uterus issue?

It's natures way of dispelling a bad pregnancy.
What if all mine are bad?

I know the difference between being a prima donna and being educated and having questions. But I don't like feeling like they think I don't.

So it's wait. Which I'm good at. I don't need to impose my will here.

"Are you sure" asked the nurse.
"Well, the line was very faint, but it was blue" I said. "Twice"
"That sounds pretty positive" she chuckled.

I finally said "Listen, why don't we just do this. I don't want to leave a message. Let's see what happens. I'm going to wait until 8 weeks, when I see Dr A. I have a history of early bleeding, I'm not even sure if this is going to take so there's no point calling in the National Guard. It's less then two weeks away. I'll wait nd we'll go from there."

We all hang up satisfied.

Last night, for the first time ever, I run to the bathroom. And throw up my dinner.

Do you want to know what I had for supper?" I asked Jess on the phone 30 minutes before.
"If you want to tell me" she humors me.
"Cheddar cheese off Ellie's tray, some of Doug's curly fries, one bite of a gross chipotle chicken weight watchers meal, a head of iceberg lettuce, and 3 spoonfuls of vanilla frosting"
"That's some dinner" she deadpans.
I defend. "Hey, it was a vegetable, a starch and a protein"
"There is that" she said.

As I'm throwing up I think "Really? Throwing up? Wow." and "Yeh. Strong baby"
I wake up positive. As in sunny, not blue line. I feel good. My boobs are sort of sore. I threw up. As I'm making the bed I say to Doug "I think this one's going to be different. I think it's stronger"

This is real.

Then just 10 minutes ago, I felt a tiny tiny little pop. PING. And I see a tiny tiny trace of brackish blood.

So here we go again.

on my mind

I'm thinking about Cindy, wanting to know what's going on but not wanting to call for fear of intruding.

I'm thinking of Kim, and hoping she feels better soon.

So - in honor of both - irreverently:
CB Hero...
Original Skit

We're Going Away

How exciting.
How annoying.
Packing.
Ug.


I started my documents for Grandma.
TA DA!!!
(at her request mind you)
I'm particularly proud of the grocery list....

I consider myself neither an optimist nor a pessimist. "Yes the glass is half empty, but there's also half left".

I do believe that you get back what you put out.
I also think that OTHERS see me as negative.
Am I critical, sure. Do I exercise my wit at others expense, occasionally. Do I have a fairly acerbic perspective, yepper. But a I negative? hmm. I think not.

Anyway, I don't generally delve into the darkies and get blue. I have days where I feel sad, and I own them, embrace that I'm sad, and move on. But deep depression? Sad sad sadness? Nah, not so much. Not any more anyway. Life is good.

But like all reformed smokers (analogy, didn't smoke) when I see something about being posiitive, or having good energy, I feel compelled to promote it. Put forth the message so to speak. So others can join me in the glory of being positive.
kum bai yah
etcetera.

So for what it's worth, I stumbled across a blog entry that backlinked to this article - The 30-Day Challenge to a More Positive Perspective

Basically what it promotes is putting down, for thirty days, one thing you are grateful for on the first day, two on the second etc and at the end of 30 days you have 465...ish (-ish because math and I aren't getting along these days.)

So why not? Why not do it?
Besides the fact that it's navel gazing narcissism?

Sigh.
Here goes:

DAY ONE: Today I am grateful that the air conditioners are out of the windows finally. My feet are cold.

My husband, the rocket scientist...

Me. It’s way too early. But I have a headache. And I’m tired. My food tastes funny. I'd rather know…

4 days before – 53% accurate. Hmmm.
$8.99 at CVS for 1. 3 for $9.99 at Target.

me: "What do YOU think? I mean do you see it? It's like the faintest blue line, right? Like just a fraction? But I do see it..."
him: "I'm not sure"
me: "You're not sure if you see it. Or you're not sure if it's possible? what?
him: "No, I mean, I see it. But I'm not sure that's really means anything"
Me: rolling eyes "Well, usually it means"
Him: interrupting “I mean, maybe that happens if anyone pees on it. Like if I peed on it would it happen” rhetorically. Because he's sure it would.
me; "No. That's the whole point. The line only gets blue if it detects some human growth hormone thing. I don't know what it's called."
him: "Well, I didn't see it before you took it. Maybe the line is always there and it gets darker."
me: "Excuse me?"
him: "I'd need to see it before."
me: "So let me get this straight. You think there's always a blue line and it just gets darker?"
him: "Right"
me: "Yeh, ok. NO. Not quite. People would be calling night and day. They've perfected the technology. The windows are clear through. Perfectly white."
him: nomcomittal noise
me: Exasperated "WHAT?"
him: "I'm just not convinced, that's all."
me: "You're not convinced what? That I know how these work? That the line is there? Or isn't? You're not convinced of what exactly?"
him: "I just would need to see the test first."
me: "So you think maybe I did it wrong?"
him: patronizingly "No, no, not that. I just think that you probably didn’t really look at it first."
Me: laughing but exasperated "Fine, ok. See if I incubate the next baby butler."

next day
me: "Ok, so I don't know"
him: "why?"
me: "I kind of see it but it's a different test. It's so faint, I don't know"
him: "did you look at it first"
me: "YES I looked at it first. I'm telling you, there was no faint line there."
him: not convinced
me: "Look"
him: looks
me: "so what, you don't think so? You don't see it?"
him: "Well, I see the line but I'm not convinced it means something"
me: "Well I'm not convinced EITHER. I'm just trying to confirm if you see the line.
pause
me: Listen, I'm not getting my hopes up. I'm not excited. I'm not hoping. I'm actually just trying to confirm thatthere is an actual line there and it's not an optical illusion. Your negating it is not helping. I don't need you to devil's advocate. I'm not going to BE dissapointed, trust me. I just trying to ascertain whether you SEE A LINE"
him: "Well, there's definately something there."

next day
me: "Can you come in here for a minute"
him: entering "What's up?"
me: "Ok, do you see this line. this blue one here. it goes all the way accross the window"
him: "yes"
me: "so you see it"
him: "yes"
me: "ok, so you see this blue line. This one right here. This one."
him: "Yes. Yes I see it"
me: pausing
him: Saying nothing
me: Still waiting
him: Still saying nothing
me: "um, don't you think it's a little, well, scary"
him: "no, not really" kisses me on forhead
me: "you aren't nervous?"
him: "oh no"
me: thinking "wow. So calm."
Him continuing: "I still don't think you are"
me: astonished Ok, so, the line is blue, right?
him: yes
me: and you know that blue means something, right?
him: Yeah, that I'm not so sure of
me: rolling eyes "Fine" picks up pee stick. "I'm going downstairs. Think about it while you're in the shower. Call Merck."

I went downstairs and placed the stick on my desk, near my right hand. I glanced at it a few times. Really, I see a blue line. Then I woke Ellie up. Downstairs she came, and I hit send on a draft email.

So where's the stick? No idea.

Ellie likes to grab things off my desk. So somewhere in my house is an arguably positive pregnancy test.

Delightful.


update: 2pm
Aha. Ellie threw the stick in the trash. I know this because I just spent the last hour plus searching the house. On the one hand, GOOD for her. On the other, Fruedian anybody???

Ooooohhhhhh, I'm in LOVE!!!

I really am

Interesting Choice That...

I sent someone a note the other day, and on the back on the envelope I wrote something something "2 U" instead of "to you."

She called me a a couple of days later. "Were you serious?" she said. "Because if you were, it makes me feel completely different about you. It adds a new dimension to what I thought I knew about you."

Of course I was kidding.

"It was irony" I said. "Of course I was kidding".
"Thank god" she burst out. "Seriously, I really had a problem with it."
"I wanted to write 4-eva or something but I didn't have the right set-up. God yes, I was kidding."
"Seriously. Good. Because that would have really said something about who you were."
"Like finding out I dot my 'i"'s with hearts?" I asked.
"Exactly" she said.

I completely see her point. I have a HUGE issue with people who use Nazi for strict.
"We're real sleep nazi's" someone said to me last week.

Really?

Eww. I just think it's like, wow. nice comparison that, comparing yourself to people who killed, what, millions? Ruthlessly? Tore families apart? Killed based on racism? Tortured? Nice. Classy with a K.

According to wikipedia - On TV.com, users rated The Soup Nazi the best ever episode of Seinfeld. It is also the top rated Seinfeld episode on IMDb.
Hmmm.
I get that Seinfeld made it funny and that Soup Nazi is part of our culture. I just think the use of it in conversation is faintly disturbing.

And yep, it does make me feel differently about her.

I tried looking at my keyboard sideways today, to see if E really WAS the most used letter and lo and behold, my E was worn the most.

I love it when a legend really is the truth.

I woke up sad today. I've been feeling "off" since Monday afternoon. I though maybe it was seeing my cousins at the funeral, reliving the past. Tuesday when I felt off, I thought it was just not having a set morning task and Ellie and I butting heads, Wednesday when I felt sad, I chalked it up to the inevitable letdown of being anxious about something then having it be over. Adrenaline leaving your body so to speak. Today I woke up miserable. I just want to crawl into bed and sleep sleep sleep. It's going to be a Very Long Day. Surely.

Doug woke up early. "I had a bad dream" he said. "I woke up a 5:30 and was scared you weren't ok. I put my hand on your back but I had to wait a really long time" I'm a notorious still sleeper and shallow breather. Many a college roommate has woken me for fear of death. “I’m fine” I kissed him goodbye.
“I just don’t feel myself, you know?”
“Do you think it’s because you are getting your period?” he asked. (47 points on Monday??? Oh yeah, that’s pms!)

Now, normally that would aggravate you, right? You’d be all “Hey, just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I can’t function. Just because I feel off doesn’t mean you aren’t an asshole. My house IS a mess, my stuff IS un-filed. My bamboo pillowcase DID rip and I need to get the damn sewing machine out and do a half ass job fixing it. Jerk” etc.

He continues “Did you want to be pregnant?” stressing the word “want”.
“I don’t know” I said into the front of his shirt. “Maybe. Not really. I don’t know. I don't think so” It’s not as if we tried. My doctor and I discussed going off the pill and I started not taking them this month. I’m taking vitamins “just in case” but we weren’t “trying trying”. I think, in the exact moment, his words were “Oops, I forgot.” Followed by something like “Can I get you a tissue?”

It’s not as if I want another baby.
It’s not as if I don’t.

I just can’t imagine functioning. I can’t imagine being good at it, I’m not sure if I had enough time with Ellie, and I’m definitely afraid of not being able to take care of her. Of Ellie. While pregnant.

It’s the same old thing. Unless you were with me the last time, during not post, I can’t explain what it was like to go from week 8 to week 28 wishing your baby would just die NOW so you wouldn’t have to bear the pain of her dieing after. “If you are going to take her, please take her.” I must have thought a thousand times, then cried through the night. “I’m a monster” I told Doug. Everyone thought I was fine, a trouper, a great sport. But I’m not sure that I want to feel that all over again. “It might not happen.” “Think positive” “Look how Ellie turned out.” Is what friends say. My doctors say “It’s likely going to happen again.” “Come see me BEFORE you even start trying.” “You’re going to need to come in every week”. How can I do this again? How can I shortchange Ellie for 28 weeks knowing that I could end up with a damaged baby regardless? What if I get pregnant, and then can’t “stay down” the same way? Who will lift Ellie out of her crib in the morning? A stranger? Someone I PAY to take her? When will we cuddle, walk, run, climb slides? I don’t want to lose one minute with her - the last minutes we are alone for life- to usher in another baby, that may not even make it.

Perhaps, if it happened accidentally, I wouldn’t have to make the choice.

Hungry hungry hippos

So yeah, Ellie's been awful lately. Today it occured to me. I think she might be hungry. I mean, sure, I feed her but she's not getting a lot of protein.

Tonight she had zucchini and red beans. I thought she was finished. Until Daddy sat down. Whereupon she had an entire plateful of fusili with smoked bacon, chicken breast and pink vodka sauce.

Her breath was horrible.
BUT she was the cutest little delighted girl the rest of the night.

Go figure.

I forget that she has her daddies "savory" genes.

Sigh.

I - HEART - My Husband

Again, why my husband keeps me entertained.

After grocery shopping, after dinner, in kitchen. Husband gazes at counter near breadbox. Excited: "Ooooooh. A panoply of snacks."

Watching America's Got Talent (don't ask) Precocious 4 year old singing "I'll be There"
Wife: "What amazes me is that she can remember all the words.
Husband: " She could teach that Jason Castro a few things."

Flipping from America's Got alent to Wife Swap.
Wife: "So, if we were on wife swap, whaddya think you'd get?"
Husband: "Probably one of those farm wives."
Wife: indignant " You mean as in she does all the chores?"
Husband: "No no, I mean like hunting anfd fishing. You know, killing stuff."
Followed by
"Now...if I killed my swap wife, would I still be the main suspect?"

Something I Read Today

I saw this on a mommy board today, posted by Crista. She said SHE saw it on pbs.

"The Lanyard" by Billy Collins

The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.

No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one into the past more suddenly—
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.

I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that’s what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.

She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light
and taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.

Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.

Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.

And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift— not the worn truth
that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.

Who says I don't like football?
Just today I placed a wager.
Indiana and Minneapolis. I sat down on the floor with my plate of too many point foods (goodbye 129.4) and Star magazine.

"I'm taking Minneapolis" I said.
"Really" my husband flicked his eyes to my face, then back on screen.
"Yeah. To win."
"REALLY" he focused a bit longer.
"Yeh. I'm also taking the under."
He laughed.
"I'm serious I said. Two separate bets. I'm taking the under. And Minneapolis to win."
He's still laughing.

"whaddya want to bet?" I said.
He focuses. He's no fool. "What do you want" he said, interested now.
"If I win, you have to vaccuum the stairs before bed"
"Ok"
"You weren't going to do that anyway, right?"
"Right"
"So that's the under. What do you want."
"If you lose," he said "You need to bring all the laundry down."
I did a quick mental calculation. I really should be doing laundry now but I just CAN'T deal with it. I'm tired. So this prolongs laundry doing for at least two hours.
I'll bite. "Ok," I agree. "So if I win the under, you'll vacuum. If Monneapolis wins, you'll bring the laundry UP from the basement. If it's over, you'll bring down the dirty clothes and if the Colts win, what?"
and he was silent.
Finally I looked at him and said "Tell me that you can't think of anything because I do all the chores anyway." Big chuckles all around. But seriously, he can't think of anything.

A few minutes later I hear excited cries for a touchdown.
"Who was it" I said.
"He dropped the ball. No touchdown." he replied.
"Oh. But who? Who was right there?"
"Indianapolis" he said.

"HA!" I exclaim. "Gooooooo Vikings" I mock cheer.
"Yeh, um, the thing is, I think what you want to be saying is 'Go Defense'"
I think again. The under AND to win. Oh shit.
Bitter I replied. "Whatever. Go somebody"

So see. I like sports. Besides, their uniforms are purple. Ellie doesn't really wear a lot of purple. So yeah. It's nice to see bright colors on TV.

Forty Days and Forty Nights

After my yardsale today, Jess picked me up and we shot down to a 1pm end time sale. I got a fantastic Little People Noah's Arc and Zoo.

Jess said "Take it, it's not something (she'd) have in her house" Because of the whole Noah, the ark and all.

It completely made sense to me. Just last week she didn't want the pretend food because it wasn't vegan. "Really, what's the point. I don't keep it in my house so how is that really play modeling." of course I though. Her daughters not going to fry up a tbone and a can of SPAM. Even in a pretend kitchen. Completely made sense.

Until I got home.

Im washing Noah et al in the sink and mention to my husband how Jess passed on it for me. How it was only $2. All these toys. How psyched I was. How cute the Lion was. Sooooo cute.

"Oh, did she already have one?" he asked.
"Oh no" I said. "It's just because of the ark..." I trailed off.
Hmm. Wait a minute. Ok, she's vegan. I get it. I mused outloud. "But Noah didn't EAT the animals."
A fact Doug pointed out. "Because if he had, " he said quite reasonably "Jess couldn't be vegan"
Hmm. "Maybe it's because it was a ark? Like a zoo? Maybe the conditions weren't humane?"
Doug raised an eyebrow.
"Well, maybe she takes exception to the creationist point of view." I said outloud. You know, maybe it's a religious thing."
Doug wanders away "I think Noahs old testament. She's Jewish, right?"
"Yep" I confirm.
Doug comes back in, down to the basemet. Over his shoulder he asks "Why didn't she just take the animals and throw away the ark."
I stood in the kitchen flummoxed.
"That would be wasteful. She wouldn't break up the set. Landfills..." I start to mutter.
"You know your friend's nuts , don't you?" he said as he came back by with the bike pump in his had.
"Yeh, pretty much" I said. "But it made sense at the time."
"I'm sure it did" he said as he kissed me on the cheek.
"I'll ask her tomorrow" I called out to his retreating back.

Honestly though, couldn't he just look at the lion and be done with it.

Craigslist Ad posted Thursday....

VERBATIM.


9/13 ~ Sat 8-10 ~ * Street ~ My $5 Yard Sale (******d)
My $5 Sale

So last weekend we were going to have a block yardsale. Five families, lots of stuff. We held on to the bitter end – and called it off at 6am day of. Rain rain.Said neighbors went their separate ways. One hauled her stuff back in, another gave it up to a local tots fundraiser. Reschedule? The third is going to a hockey tournament, the fourth has to work. So me, the fifth, has nary another family with which to entice yardsalers to come.

My stuff is small. Scrappy you might say. Oh sure, it’s not junk. I mean, I cared enough about it to keep it - but is it ENOUGH, you know? Enough for a “real” sale.

I say no.

After all, I’m out every Saturday at 7:45, coffee in hand (staging two doors down so I’m not scorned openly as an early bird) and I’d LOOK at my yardsale but I wouldn’t exactly pull over and say “Whoa, there’s the motherload. I’m gonna get me some finds.” What I have is cds (in cases), some unopened, a few dvds, some Red Sox paraphernalia, a fake Fichus tree named Phil (I’ll miss him) a men’s bike*, an electric snow blower, some picnic stuff (clean/unused) various and sundry misc cords for computer nerds. I have shoes, a million pair including a two very new hootchie divorcee looking platforms circa the Woburn 99 on a Friday, two pocketbooks likely off the back of a truck from my deadbeat ex, and assorted other miscellany like curtain rods. It’s really nothing SPECTACULAR (but it was all well cared for)….

So that’s why I’m selling it all – with nothing priced over $5.

See the conversation will go like this
You: “Hey, wow, is that an electric snowshovel”
Me: Yes, it is
You: Does it work
Me; Yes
You: How much
Me: $5

And then
You: Oh, curtain rods. These are still in the box.
Me: Yes
You: Wow, these are nice. My daughter just got a place in Saugus. I should call her.
Cell phone comes out, conversation ensues, you look over top of phone
You: How much
Me: $5
You: For all three
Me: No, just for one.
You: So it’s $5 each
Me: Yes. $5

And then:
You: OMG, this is a completely unopened 4cd/dvd set of LIVEAID. This was on ebay for $18
Me: Um hmm (I’m noncommittal like that)
You: WOW. This is so cool. I went, you know,it was hot hot hot that day
Me: Interested but kind of thirsty
You: So, how much
Me: $5

It’s really fairly simple. At some point you’ll see something else, for say, $4 and you and I will both chuckle. You’ll say
You: Lemme guess, $5
And I’ll say
Me: Oh no, that one is $4
And we’ll both chuckle uproariously. Then you’ll haggle with me for $3 and I’ll begrudgingly accept it then talk smack about you when you leave for being cheap.

So. Whaddya think? We have a date or what???
THIS SATURDAY
$5 sale
8am-10am

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We made $85. Completely not worth it but completely fun. I wrote a great ad, saw two fellow salers, and had four conversations with people I never would have otherwise had - including my neighbor, who brought me coffee; a man from the next town over, who taught me about city service in his town (the kids cant graduate unless the do a certain amount of free community service in town like shoveling elders walkways - a idea that I put on outr town survey just last week thank you very much; and then two other fellows that were just a pleasure to shoot the shit with.

It's nice actually having a social conversation that doesn't revolve around Mommying...

Mr Sun, Sun Mr Golden Sun Apparently is Shining Down on Me

You know how when you speak of the d*v*l you aren't supposed to say his name lest you call attention to yourself? You know how the bible tells you to "be not proud" (um, ok, I won't be proud!) You know how in Harry Potter Voldemort was the one who must not be named?

So I have a secret. Shhhh. I need to whisper it so the karma gods don't catch me.

There's a chance...
just a chance now ...
that I might be....
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happy.

Gocha, Didn't I?

No but really. Sigh. Im not sure when the mood took me. Less then 8 days ago Ellie was maniacal. She was whirling, whining, the worst. In part because of her nose/respiratory thing and moreso because she was tired. Me? I was miserable too. My other dirty little secret is that I hate summer. I hate the fact that it's unstructured, that it's hot, I hate summer foods, I just hate summer. Oh sure, I like beer and outdoor dining and buskers at dusk, but I'm a mom now so I don't get out that much in those ways. I just hate the scramble, the running to visit people on the weekends, the sense that if you aren't "taking advantage of the summer living like a Newport Light Ad, you're nothing but a loser"

Oh but the fall. God! Fall is my JAM! (Yes, as soon as I say "my jam" it's like saying "bling", or "my ride" as in "pimp". I'm dating myself and embarrassing you.) Fall. I love it! Not just the clothes - turtlenecks, jeans, sweaters, less flesh! Oh but oh the structure! There are classes being held, the libraries get back on school schedules, people are home, or at work, or wherever but generally where they are supposed to be.

And to DO! God there is so much to do!!! Festivals, yardsales, shopping, baking, and classes! I LOVE CLASSES! Pre-Ellie I took knitting (fun), jam making (gross and stupid), cooking hot hor d'oevres (think deep fryer and cream cheese!), I signed up for skiing (don't ask) and ballroom dance (slow slow quick quick slow)! Oh and the gym. Who does't love the gym in the fall! I do have to say getting pregnant kept me from indoor rock climbing but I am NOT ruling it out. That and double dutch. I just don't see how I can get Jess and Barbara to hold the jump rope. I think Shannon might.

Now, with Ellie we have Tumble Tots, Lake Q Moms, Walkers & Talkers Listening Circle, Small Fries, Gymnastics and Friday singalongs, the regular library lapsits and some Bitchin Mama meetups. Spiced up with a ob/gyn exam, two root canals and a permenant bridge and you can call me BUSY!!! In fact. dont call. I'm on the phone A LOT. Too much.

I think too I'm happier because things finally seem to be falling into place. Not so coincidentally. Knowing what I do every day sets me up to be more successful. I know where I have to be and when, thus I can plan around it.

So - life is good. I FINALLY broke 130 - 1st time since prebaby and I have high hopes (but low expectations) of breaking 126. Could you even IMAGINE??? Now THAT would be exciting.

And, and I don't know why this for me is so special but ....the single most exciting thing happened this week as well. I talked to Cindy and SHE MIGHT BE COMING HOME!!!!! Well, home here. For her here's not home but it was - and may be again. Now I know I have blogged in draft before and never posted how I feel about "the new friends" and I know that I know at least that I don't feel that way so much anymore. But an old friend. Wow. Wowweee woweee wow. Someone I know, who I love, who knew me before? Treasures!

So in my full cup here are a list of my this weeks favorite things:

1. Jess. Such a neurotic breath of sunshine. Easy on the eye, and funny too. Cleaned my basement and sorted my shoes. The best person I've ever thrifted, yardsaled or babytripped with.

2. Kymmi L. I can stay away and walk back in, and so can she and we never miss a beat. Watching Kim live the life she deserves warms my heart. a good friend, a wonderful mother, a huge ass now that she's pregnant agian. Ah, the Kimster.

3. My clean basement. It's the shit. Stuffs labeled. I walked down there tonight at 4:45 - A the helper (= knockout gorgeous) is in the yard shooting hoops (jam, bling, ride) and I was down doing a dark load with a color catcher and a few random lights and as I passed the beer fridge (read: tiny college cube) I thought to myself - "It would actually be so nice to just sit down here in a lawn chair with a beer right now." Look, I'm my sister. My room is the basement.

4. My sister. she's always my favorite, no notes needed.

5. My jeans. They fit. Enough said. They aren't my "small' ones but I have jeans that fit. Wow.


*************
Oops, mood ended. Time past. Post is in draft. Ending it here, cant replicate the mood post moment. Ta

Slap Happy

Today I want to slap my child. Honest to God I wish I could just say "Ellie, enough already. shut the fuck up". She's relentless.