I have two missions this summer
1. Watch the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe as out lined here: http://www.cnet.com/how-to/marvel-cinematic-universe-timeline-avengers/
I have watched all of the TV shows listed, and the first Captin America movie.
2. Try one new cocktail a week.
Paloma’s and Tom Collins have already been discovered. Now it is time to try more.
This will be fun, especially once my husband stops being sad that I won’t watch Civil War until we watch all of the others.
As soon as my sister was born, she forgot my name, but I was still her girl. Fancy lunches at the town line house, rides on the duck boats, a trip to Clinique so that I could learn to apply makeup without looking like a floozy– these are some of my favorite memories with my nana. She was not perfect– she was stubborn, impatient, feisty and she walked too fast, but it didn’t matter. She was my nana and I loved her. She was a huge part of my childhood.
What my papa died she moved to an apartment by herself with her little dog. I tried to visit her as often as I could, but I lived first in Maine and then in Maryland, so it was tricky. Many hours were spent on her couch or at the china moon where we would have deep discussions about my future. Although she met my husband and held my children, I am not sure if she ever knew her predictions came true, that I found love and a family of my own. She was instrumental in keeping me positive in my darkest day.
I have missed her these last few years, as dementia took over. I tried to visit whenever I could, but it was difficult. It has been very sad to watch her disappear into herself, to watch her become a shell of her former self. She died a week ago and her funeral was yesterday. I am relieved that her suffering is over, but I will continue to miss her, and to be sad that my children do not know her.
Dear boy-child,
As I write this you are nursing in my arms, your top hand searching relentlessly for my other nipple, I never dreamed I would be wistful for your sister’s hair pulling. Nipple twisting is a whole other level of torture. That being said, I have loved nursing you for all of these months. You are getting so big, you are so independent, and want to do everything yourself. You are my crazy climber with lots to say. You love your stuffed bear, balls, trains, and Tinker Bell. Others would say you are all boy, but I don’t believe in gender stereotyping, so I say you are all you. As big as you have gotten, right now you seem so little, with your eyes half closed, suckling happily while you twist and stretch in your turtle pajamas.
Tomorrow I am leaving for two nights, to go to my Nana’s funeral. I imagine it is going to be hard on you. I have never left you overnight. I nurse you before you fall asleep, and again in the middle of the night. When you cry, while I am gone, your daddy will come to you, and I am hoping you will let him comfort you, but am afraid you won’t. It may be two very long hard days.
Lately, I have been moving towards slowly weaning you. Some days it feels like it is working, on other days you climb in my lap yelling “Nurse, Mama”, at the top of your lungs while thrusting your arm as far down my shirt as you can get it. i am equal parts afraid that you will wean while I am away and that you won’t. In case tonight is the last night I feed you at midnight, I want to make note of it. To acknowledge the way your eyelashes brush against your eyelids, and the little tiny waves at the nape of your neck. I kiss you occasionally as you nurse, and sometimes you giggle and others you are annoyed. I want to mark this moment just in case.
Nursing a little lion
You are an amazing little boy, and I am glad to be your mama.
Thanks and love
2013- I am not quite sure I ever realized it was 2013, and then it was gone. I think we had a pretty good year. I learned how to safely transport my family by bicycle. We explored our city and had fun doing it. A turned from a toddler into a little girl, and M became a toddler right before our very eyes. Shannon finished his Master’s program, something he had been hoping to do since I met him. My ankle fracture made me ask for help, which is something I am not very good at.
It was also a sad year. I lost both of my feline friends to old age. We are now pet-less except for a goldfish. She is a really animated little goldfish, but not very cuddly. Eventually we will probably get a dog. Currently though, I think A and I are both angling for a cat. Unfortunately, Shannon is allergic and I promised him years ago that when my cats died we could be catless. It is oddly quiet without them though.
The saddest part of the year was the loss of my Aunt Maureen, from Springfield. We always referred to her that way. She was my father’s aunt, and he has a sister with the same name, so that is how we told them apart. Aunt Maureen was one of the feistiest, most independent women I have ever met. Well into her 80s she still drove from Springfield to Boston on almost every holiday. Married late in life, she lost her husband very early. He was her true love, and she never did remarry, but she seemed very content in her life. She had a great sense of humor. It was she who introduced me to “Cool Hand Luke” and Paul Newman with his dreamy blue eyes. She was always full of life. I was shocked to see her so sick and frail over Thanksgiving, and horrified when my sister said that she seemed close to death. She was though. As much as I will miss her, I am glad she went fairly quickly and did not suffer very long.
2014- In this new year, I want to be more attentive to my kids. Despite being a lifelong avid reader, I have not read much in the last few years. I hope to change that this year. I plan on continuing with the Fresh 20 meal plan, so that we will eat at home more and out less. My final goal is to try to be more organized.
On November 20th, A turned 4. This year was the first, since she has been born that I was able to enjoy her birthday, and put the trauma of her birth behind me. There are many people who believe that if the outcome of a birth is a healthy baby and a healthy mama, then there is no room to complain, worry about, or regret any part of a birth. I believe that it is okay to acknowledge that things were rough and that you wish it had gone differently. I mean when A was born there was blood on the ceiling, so it wasn’t a cake walk. Ultimately though, I do have a beautiful girl, who is healthy, beautiful, smart, and vibrant. I am thankful for that, and this year I was able to enjoy her birthday day and celebrations with no twinges of sadness or regret.
A loves animals and her friends. She rides her scooter expertly around the city. She received a goldfish tank for her birthday, and a few weeks later was able to pick out a black goldfish, who she named Sodor. She is a great big sister. We all adore her.
On November 9, Tillie, who had lived with me just short of 17 years, died. She had been showing her age for a while. She was plagued by chronic ear infections, which caused deafness, she was partially blind, and was beginning to move slowly. That last day Tilly stopped being able to walk, her ear was bleeding, and she would lay and whimper. She was telling me very clearly that she was sick, and that it might be her time. The vet very kindly told me that she wasn’t going to get better, so I chose to let her go.
In another life time, December 31, 1996 to be exact, I went to the shelter with the boy I lived with. We wanted a second cat, but not a young kitten. We sat in the shelter for a long time until a small tortie with many toes climbed into Nick’s lap. She purred, flirted, and allowed herself to be petted. The shelter worker came in, shocked that Tillie was visible let alone sitting with someone. She told us that we were allowed to adopt no one else, because Tillie had been there a long time and had never appeared when adopters came around.
I was never her choice, but I kept her all those years, and we lived in agreement. I would feed her and she would let me cuddle her. When Shannon moved in she was ecstatic. She allowed him to pill her and would purr happily at his feet. The kids made her nervous, but that didn’t stop her from jumping in A’s crib or toddler bed to cuddle. A wasn’t a huge fan, because Tillie’s cataracts made her nervous, but lately she has been asking about her, and hoping that she is happy. It has been really difficult to describe death and what it means, without evoking heaven.
Tillie was the last of the two cats I adopted in another lifetime. When hearing about TIllie’s death, my friend Kara wrote, “I feel it an end of our youth as well.” I think there is probably some truth to that.
It has been lonely here without her. A newly acquired goldfish helped a bit, but not totally.
A had been talking about camping since the end of July, so in October I was finally able to take her. We went car camping at a state park 20 minutes from home. I took A and M early to set up the tent and play, and then Shannon came, and we cooked and ate dinner. After I built my first fire in 18 years, Shannon took M home for the night. A and I slept in the tent. We ate breakfast and were home by 11:00. It was a perfect first trip.
Family dinner
First night in the new sleeping bag
Waking up with Inga and Bagel
Campfire. One match (and a lint paraffin starter)!
Breakfast
For Halloween A wanted to be Chris Kratt and Max was going to be a lion. It made sense then for A to be Chris Kratt as a lion.
A as Chris Kratt in a lion power suit.
October provided several excellent opportunities for me to experiment with the cargo carrying capacities of the Yuba Mundo.
On Shannon’s birthday, Ada and I went to fetch the cake from Patisserie Poupon. I brought a tub to put it in. Once we got there I was uncertain that I could make it work. I plied A with cookies, so she sat patiently while I worked on the best way to carry the cake.
On our way to get the cake.
Loaded up and ready to go home.
Safely home!
The opening of the new Target was really exciting. Especially when I realized we could bike there. Their bike racks are super tall and a bit awkward, but hooray for not having to drive.
Not pictured is the giant box of diapers that we carried home.
Our final interesting haul of the month was pumpkins from the farmer’s market. In the past we have had to remember to drive to the market on the days we wanted to make a large purchase. Not anymore! As I was fiddling with the pumpkins, my friend Amber wandered by. She offered to drive the rear pumpkin home for us. At that point I had just finished making everything tight, so I shook the whole bike, by wiggling the pumpkin, which didn’t move at all. Amber laughed and told me she thought I had it all under control.
Watermelon toddler and our pumpkins
