It's been a while

Oh yes, it's been a while. Like since March. I got nervous, all of a sudden I realized that people were actually reading my blog--and liked it. So the pressure was on. Then my dh (dear husband) read it and told me I was a little consumed with death and that it was depressing. Then every entry I wrote had an (unconscious?) death theme. So I'm back. It's like that long composed thank you note you composed in your head and never wrote. Well in fact that's what this was supposed to be. All those brilliant things I wrote (said) in my head but never said out loud. My other problem seems to be that I go on writing and non-writing jags. Like the day I write an entry, I have about three other entries and it seems most bloggers write 1 a day so I thought I should only write 1 a day and then by the next day--well it's either gone or well gone.

So like those many diaries and journals that lie in my basement, I'm picking this one back up.

Patience--and peace it turns out

I think fishing taught me patience. Probably both by example and experience. This morning (well the day two weeks ago that I originally started this post) I rose early and went fishing with Parker on the beach. There were a few others out, but all in all we had the beach to ourselves. The first cast out I caught a spot (photo above of this little fish). When I was little we would get up early on Sunday mornings and fish for these little critters. We'd catch a bunch of spot and croaker, scale and gut them and take them up to the cottage. My mom would fry them and make lacey corn bread. We'd eat them out on the porch with the cool ocean breeze blowing on us. Of course they had bloody marys with them which could really only make the whole experience even better. That memory gives me peace. Being on the water gives me peace. Peace/patience--I guess they are much the same for me. Time, being in the moment, the memories and feelings I want to capture and hold on to.

Anyway, we made some more casts. One especially forceful one threw off Parker's rig. I gave him my pole and began to re-rig his rod. Sitting in the sand, detangling line, tying knots, remembering the order--well there was no hurry just the patience of going step by step to get back to fishing. No hurry, no where to be but there.

We fished for a while longer. Only caught one more. So we let the little guy above go. I began to think of the steps involved in scaling and gutting and decided we'd save that experience for another day.

NO BLASTING

I have been against the MM mining since I first heard of it last summer. I have worked with many dedicated neighbors to get the word out. In fact, we even gave a presentation to the Terrace Park 6th graders so they could learn the facts and help educate others. Every time I have spoken to anyone about this issue, I get the same question--why would anyone (other then Martin Marietta) be FOR it?

This week I had the pleasure of escorting the Terrace Park "graduating" 6th graders on a canoe trip from Camp Dennison to Scenic River Canoe on Round Bottom Road. It was so beautiful! The kids had a great time, the river was beautiful, we saw plenty of wild life, the kids enjoyed swimming and playing in the river. I couldn't help but think about how wonderful our community and river is.

While many children are suffering from a lack of nature and outdoor time--our kids most often choose to be outside. They play lacrosse, baseball and soccer; canoe and swim in the river and run through the woods. Shoot beehives (less good but still outside). Our children love the outdoors. We absolutely cannot let that be taken away from them!!! Our canoe trip ended at Scenic River Canoe and the kids then went to the Township Pub to play outside have something to eat. What a great day! Our main concern was getting them safely across Round Bottom Road to the Pub. I was one of the last canoes to come in and I ended up waiting to cross Round Bottom Road by myself. Quite frankly I was terrified as giant trucks came barreling around the curve. I have lived in New York City and crossed many busy streets, but this was very scary. I cannot imagine what this will be like with additional traffic.

Making the Band

These photos are by Becca Worple of owenemma photography.  They are totally used without her permission, but with much love and respect.

Sometimes I feel young, sometimes I feel old, sometimes I'm just happy with who and where I am.  The old part sucks.  I'm on high blood pressure medicine (which in and of itself makes you feel old because you are so freaking tired) and getting physical therapy for bursitis and tennis elbow.  Did you know there is a sack on your hip called the bursa and it can get inflamed?  I'm thinking I've had this since puberty and thus why I have saddle bags no matter how much I do or don't exercise.  Still there are a lot of days--once I've dragged myself out of bed--that I'm just happy to be who and where I am.  Ok never really happy about the saddlebags, but other then that.  My kids are a great age, they have great friends, we live in a great place and we have great friends.  We have terrible things happen--right now it seems like we are losing a lot of parents to things like cancer.  But I believe as long as there is a "we" we can get through it.  I'm very lucky because I haven't lost a parent, but I have lost my brother.  The "we" got me through it.

Now I've left this paragraph for most of the day, I have no idea where this pre-coffee random thought was going.  I'm pretty sure it was just an excuse to post the above picture.   I call the band "Midlife Crisis" however, most of the band does not like that name.  I guess some aren't there yet (the cute young lead singer and even younger guitarist) and some are happily on the other side.  The drummer on the other hand loved the name--his drums are a symbol (no pun intended) of his midlife crisis (which ironically enough coincided with the sudden death of his father).  Since they didn't like that name now I call them "The Old Man Band" (sorry to Marc and Robby).  It was very cute to have them come over twice a week to practice their music.  They would each come in with their six pack (of beer not belly) and go play music in our basement for a few hours.  Saturday night they played at our lacrosse fundraiser.  They sounded great (although I worried a bit that playing in the basement was like singing in the shower--which always sounds better then real life), they had a great time and I think most of the crowd was pleasantly surprised by their talent (and ability to all play the same tune at the same time).  

And (perhaps what I was trying to get at pre-coffee) it was fun to be "us" on Saturday night.  Didn't really matter whether we were 38 or 58, we had a few beers (or wine), admired the fact that some of our neighbors can sing and play instruments, and just had fun.  We were "in the moment."  I probably could have stayed up past midnight.  Fortunately I didn't since I rode my bike home uneventfully until I hit my driveway, literally.  

It's important to remember to take your feet off the pedals when you stop.

(Hoping to shamelessly steal video from Becca so you can hear their groove.)

Sibling Rivalry

My kids fight.  Whenever I get one of those Christmas letters that tells how the brothers get a long so beautifully, that Frank eagerly awaits Teddy's arrival home on the bus or that Teddy is teaching Frank all about legos, I think bull shit.  It's like the babies who sleep through the night at 6 weeks.  My kids fight, so I get great comfort when other people's kids fight.  I especially appreciate it when they get physical.  Sometimes I wonder if and when they will ever say a civil word to each other.  Well it got really bad so I signed up for an online workshop--Siblings without Rivalry.  I was especially excited to find out the secret to "managing the fighting." Since I treat my children so fairly, I didn't really need the rivalry part, that couldn't be the problem. The problem is that I'm not strict enough or give enough chores or something.

Well it turns out it's all about the sibling rivalry.  There's the old comparison--what if your husband came home with another wife one day and said, hey, you're great and all and I love you just as much as I always have, but I thought adding another wife would just make things that much better.  You'll have a friend to play with!  Well, apparently no matter how well you handle it, your first born will feel this way.  Annoyingly it really makes sense.  There is no way in hell that I would want my husband to bring another wife home.  Now you can deny the difference because having multiple children is widely accepted whereas, apart from Big Love, having multiple wives not so much.

So it's easy to deny this comparison, but then she gave examples.   When you say "no" she runs to your spouse and tells on you.  Your spouse comes in and says "why can't you share, let him/her have a turn. "  "Why must you complain all the time?  Find a way to get along and stop running to me with your problems all the time."

"Find a way to get along..."  oops I think I said that 10 times yesterday.

Of course it outlines the expected touchy feely--accept their feelings.  Validate their feelings.   Blah blah blah my kids are whining,  that's not feelings, that's annoying!

Then she goes on to say--this may have been my breakthrough moment--"Don't love them equally, love them uniquely."  OK I think I'm getting it.

"Instead of giving time equally, give according to need."  Ha ha, if I give time to one the other immediately needs me.  Although upon inspection, if you give each what they need rather than equal at some point you reach equilibrium because if you are giving equally sometimes you are giving something the other doesn't need so you are just wasting time.

Oh and the secret to "managing the fighting" is "rough housing is by mutual consent only."  My kids laughed in my face when I said that.  (this apparently as opposed to--"someone's going to end up crying!")

But then I guess I digested some of this because I started to see and understand some of the dynamics better.  Please rest assured that I do not say things like, "wow it sounds like you are really angry with your sister, do you want to draw a picture of your anger?"  But when Parker says, "why can't Mollie take out the trash, why can't she do a poop check?"  (for the uninitiated, if you have dogs and a yard, having children is really great because they can pick up the poop for you and I'm pretty sure it hasn't been labeled child abuse yet).  I began to understand him to say, I have to share this house with her, OK, but she should have to lift a finger on occasion too.  When I realized that my answer would be, she complains about it more than you do so you have to do it, well that I perhaps needed to make some changes after all.  And that needs come in many different packages.   

But the most amazing telling moment came last night.  I really don't even know what to do with it, but still pretty interesting.  We were watching Extreme Home Makeover--you know the show where there is a sick child and a bad house and they fix it up and send them to Disney World.  There were two sisters.  One big, one little.  The little one had a terrible blood disorder and had to have like daily blood transfusions.  The big one was clearly upstaged and backstaged by the little one.  Parker said, "That's not fair that the little sister gets all the attention and the other one just has to stand by."  DING!  Empathy for the big sister!  Little sister gets all the attention.  I'm the nice caring one, hello!

Well it turns out the big sister is actually the younger sister and the little sister (the one with the illness) is the older.  Hmmmmm.  Which he then denied, because that couldn't possibly be so.

So "Siblings Without Rivalry" is not a cure all.  But it does help give some insight.

By the way, my kids still fight.

The First Laugh After the Loss

I know I promised to dedicate the next entry to Mollie, but she will have to wait.  I have these great inspirations to write (usually while I'm driving) and then I forget.  Or I have an idea and then I lose either my motivation or my time at the computer (despite the fact that it is my own).

But today I had a really fun encounter on Facebook.  Take the glazed look from your face.  A friend from college published 100 books you should read before you die--you are supposed to check off the ones you've read.  I'm not even going there, but it was fun to read the list and think about what was and wasn't on there.  Bridget Jones yes, Secret Life of Bees no.  So then we did have a brief discussion about what was omitted and why (it was originally published by the BBC so no Proust).  I even got a new FB friend out of it, some new reading recommendations and reconnection with an old friend on a new subject.  All before 9 a.m.

Appropos of nothing I started thinking about Kelly Corrigan and my friend Leah.  I could tell you the whole thought process but then your eyes really would glaze over!  Several friends have emailed this to me and I've dutifully passed it on.  There are no threats of bad luck attached just the connection to someone who has put my life into words.  Someone who understands what friends and family mean in our lives.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u_4qwVLqt9Q

In it she mentions The First Laugh After the Loss.  Actually I've watched it about 20 times and today was the first time I noticed that line.  The First Laugh After the Loss.  It's one of the biggest comforts during the grief process.  You can call it up again and again.  It's like a little flower that grows and lets you know that it will be OK.  Well most people have heard the story, but I want to keep it for perpetuity. 

Leah's loss was sudden and shocking.  When Robin left me a message to call, she sounded terrible.  So what did I do?  I called Leah.  Leah was someone we all turned to.  We'd all just gotten an email from her offering her life coach services for free in the new year.  We were planning our next Avon Walk for New York City.  It wasn't her time.  We were robbed.

Well we weren't called the Pigeons, but we were and are the Beta Delts.  Beta Delta Chi--Burning Down the House.  The picture above are the Beta Delts who made the trip along with Leah's boyfriend who is slightly out of focus at the end of the table.  The other male is Reuben who is an honorary Beta Delt along with a lot of other Sigma Chis but that's a whole other conversation.  So when Robin called (I like to think that Robin and I were the founding members since we lived on opposite ends of the hall, blasted our stereos and both played Talking Heads.), she asked if I would call the others.  She had called Leah's family and Seattle friends and didn't have the strength to call our group.  Leah, like most of us had many different groups of friends--high school, college, first job, second job, grad school, Michigan, Ohio, Washington.  But of course the Beta Delts were some of the closest and most important.  We try to be in touch and we've even made a couple of trips in the last few years to reunite.  Some or all of us have made most of them.  We are all SO glad that Leah joined us on both of them!!   So I called.  I must confess that while I made the calls and during the course of the evening I got a little tipsy--a martini to start the numbing process.  By the last call, I was professing my undying love for Julie.  It was probably just like college.

Leah being Leah, one memorial was not enough.  She had one on each coast.  I really wish I could have gone to both.  I'd love to compile all the tributes.  The sad little group pictured above gathered for the Michigan memorial.   Marjie and I were the first for-sures because we live within driving distance.  Then Ellen, poor Ellen was/is living in Senegal.  Senegal sounds like an incredible place (you can read about it in her blog SenegalEase), but it is terribly far when one of your dearest friends and confidants dies.  We went back and forth and finally found her a ticket so that she could come.  It was really important.  Then Peg and Reuben emailed to say they wanted to come it was just a matter of scheduling.

We all gathered in Southfield.  I immediately felt comforted just by their presence.  I hadn't seen Reuben or Peg in a really, really long time but it didn't matter it was like graduation was yesterday--it had just been a really really busy night.  We spent a lot of time driving around in the snow looking for some place to eat.  I don't know why but there was something comforting in that too.  When we finally came upon the place above, we were so happy.  Oh and we had picked up Ciss, Leah's boyfriend along the way.  Fittingly in the full circle of our lives, Ciss is from Senegal.

We stayed at the Hawthorne Suites.  We got a 2 bedroom suite and a Queen room.  The price seemed a little too good to be true, but I checked with Leah's mom and she said despite the fire, it was a very nice place to stay.  Reuben, Ellen and I stayed in the 2 br and Marjie and Peg stayed in the Queen room which had a pull out couch.

The next morning we gathered for breakfast.   Peg was near tears, but not those sad tears we'd been experiencing the past few days.  I said, "what's up?"  Well the story goes something like this.  Peg and Marjie went to their room.  They decided that they'd use the sleeper sofa so they could each get a good night's sleep.  Marjie in the bed, Peg on the sofa.  Peg went to pull out the bed, but there was something stuck.  Was that a remote control?  She grabbed and pulled and squealed.  It was silver and shiny and no remote control.  Yes, it was a dildo.   

We laughed and laughed and laughed.  We tried to figure out the scenario that would have someone using it on the pullout rather than the bed.  We laughed and laughed some more.  

It was the relief we needed.  

It was the missing piece of our comfort.  

It was the First Laugh After the Loss.

CUTENESS!

How cute is this boy?  I don't usually brag about my children, oh that's probably not true, perhaps I don't usually gush.  My friend Holly took this picture of him last Saturday night.  I'm feeling a bit sentimental.   I want to freeze time, right now.  I want to remember details.  

Parker and his friends are so cute.  There are about 8 of them.  The make up varies depending on the activity, but sometime during the weekend the 8 usually gather.  Whether it's skating at the winter club, skate boarding at Nollie's, shooting bees with airsoft guns (they don't recommend it), or just buying 64 oz cups of Mountain Dew at UDF.  OK yes, we are all against the bee shooting, and I'm terrified of what 64 ounces of Mt Dew will do to his growth.  They are good boys.  They are sweet boys.  They are good friends.  They are kind. They are considerate.  They are bright.  (Hopefully someday they will have common sense.)  They are mischievous in a good way (witness the giant cups of Mt. Dew they know their parents would never purchase for them).

No one who was there will ever forget the day they were nicknamed the Terrace Park Brain Trust.  That was the day they were playing with airsoft guns in the nature preserve.  Henry was stung by a bee.  The boys were outraged, so they took revenge on the bees by shooting at the bee hive.  Bees 46 boys 0.  That's my estimate of how many stings the boys got versus how many bees they hit.  Much Benedryl was distributed that night.

Last Saturday night, when the non basketball pictures were taken, was a "sock hop."  Because of an unfortunate double booking, all the fourth grade girls went camping (they would have LOVED it) and their big brothers and friends were drafted to take their place.  Anthony dj'd the party and there was a dance teacher who taught them things like the hand jive (oh to have video of that!).  Well one of them snuck away from the dance and bought a 12 pack of Dr. Pepper at the UDF (which happens to be next door to the Community Building where the dance was).  Once all the Dr. Pepper had been consumed, they wanted to leave.  Apparently they kept inching closer and closer to the door and then out onto the ramp.  They were told not to go any further.  So they didn't (with some encouragement).

We play our last basketball game(s) this weekend.  Parker probably will not get a basketball scholarship to Duke, but rec basketball has been so fun!  Watching Parker go from looking clueless on the court and never shooting the ball, to making a three pointer and leading in rebounds (he was probably 2nd or 3rd in rebounds but this is my story) has been such a great experience for both of us actually.  He's been with the same team for five seasons.  How cool is that?  They are really a great little team.  They aren't the biggest team and they aren't the best (although only 1 loss and that was a nail biter against a rival team they'd already beaten whom they will be joining in Jr. High next year--imagine if Duke and UNC played each other for 5 years and then the players were told they'd be merging the two teams next year to play together in Grad School), but so much fun to watch them play and grow.

OK enough sentimentalism.  Next up, Mollie has an art opening....