Phineas.

This post goes out to one of Emmett's closest friends -- Phineas.

When we first moved to the city 3 years ago, I joined a playgroup with Emmett. He was two at the time and I hated going to the playgroup. I hated going because no one was nice to me. I didn't talk to anyone. I only played with the kids. I felt totally different than everyone else. I felt completely off from the other moms. I remember saying to Mike, "I'm going for Emmett" and I forced myself to go.

The weird thing was that Emmett also seemed to be sort of an outcast. The playgroup had about 15 kids in it and took place in a karate studio which was all padded. Emmett was always playing by himself. But I took him twice a week, paid my $3, and just sort of stood off to the side or talked to the ones I knew would accept me (the kids).

After a long time of going, I had a birthday party for Emmett and invited the kids. And that was sort of a big deal. It kind of moved Emmett "in". But still, I wasn't in. I knew that my life was extremely different than these other women's lives and I kept myself sort of side-lined. But still, after you are around long enough, it doesn't matter who you are. If you have a nice kid -- you have a nice kid and when Emmett turned 3 I decided he needed to have a close friend. I chose a little boy named Phineas for Emmett. Unlike the other kids, Phineas seemed a little younger. He was able to concentrate on things for longer periods of time, and there was no alpha-male issue with Emmett. They just seemed equal.

So, one day I called his mom and asked her if we could start getting them together. And I just told her that I really felt like Emmett and Phineas were alike in certain ways and (in a strange way) indicated that I was picking him as Emmett's friend. She said sure. She was into it. And for the next year, Emmett and Phineas played together once or twice a week. They grew together during a period of time kind of overlooked when parents talk about it. They developed the same interests (Playmobil, Little Legos, Revolutionary War etc.). They grew to be like brothers that didn't fight and I felt to Phineas like I've never felt to another unrelated child -- I felt like his Aunt.

Phineas and Emmett did everything together and then things changed. His mother had a baby and went back to work. And I had a baby. In the course of this time, we were unable to do the "switch-off" and something happened that I regret.

I began to feel offended by the parents. I was unable to separate myself from my child's relationship. After several weeks of trying to resolve it, I was not able to do it. For about 3 or 4 months, we would have Phineas over and they would not recpriocate. She would try to arrange my meeting the nanny at the park, which was something I really did not like. So, I worked it out that Emmett could go over with their nanny and we'd pay to help cover the costs. But I began to feel resentful. I would pay for them to play together, and then invite Phineas over to play here with just us. They stopped having sleepovers with Emmett at their house. They stopped inviting Emmett over. And I internalized it all. I felt rejected by his mother and father.

So I started pulling back. Phineas, who'd come to think of our house as his second home, would beg me to come over, and I would hold back. I became convinced that the parents were not inviting Emmett over there enough and that it was a rejection to my family -- or that I'd become like additional childcare for them. And for the next 9 months, I was putting it off. And Emmett would beg to see Phineas. And Phineas would beg to come over, but the ugly pride in me would keep it to a once a month type of thing.

3 weeks ago, Phineas' mother told me that they were moving to Michigan. All of my regret was drained into a strained response. Not only that, but moving in a month. And explaining this to Emmett has been one of the most difficult things I've ever had to do.

So in that time, we've had Phineas over twice for a sleepover. I make him bacon (his favorite thing in the world) in the morning and I let him have extra applesauce at dinner. Phineas is an amazing kid. He is quirky and unusual with his forceful opinions and his obsession with the revolutionary war. He's alergic to milk and eggs. He has a volcano of curly brown hair and a missing bottom tooth. His voice is shrill and demanding. He treats me like a relative. He thinks I'm funny. He wishes he lived with us. I will also miss him.

And I want to tell these children that I'm sorry — and I wish I could. Because 9 mnths of time passed that would have been precious to them both. And rather than focusing on the most important thing (them), I reacted with my pride and my issues with rejection. And having him over a million times before they leave isn't going to fix anything. It will only make them realize what they missed.

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Insurance commercials are like porn movies.

My pride in the band-aid on my cell phone.

I was thinking about this yesterday and I vowed not to forget and to write about it in my blog.

When I was younger, I'd see these "parent things" that were basically destroyed by children. A mom driving the family station wagon, with rock band bumper stickers stuck crookedly on it. A beat up drum set, permanently placed in the family room. A hutch covered with scratch and sniff stickers. Windows with fire safety and Mr. Ugg decals. Bedrooms covered with gunk from glow in the dark stars. An gnawed ET figurine in the China cabinet with the mother's most prized glassware.

In my life, I have two things that have children's marks on them. The first is the craft section. It has stickers all over the glass cabinet door that Emmett wanted to put there. The second is my cell phone. Emmett stuck a "Butt Ugly Martians" band-aid on it about 4 months ago, and I've never taken it off.

So I started thinking about why this band-aid gives me joy every time I see it and why I never take the stickers off the cabinet. And I realized that these marks are pride for a mother. It shows the involvement of her child. It shows family. She's claimed. She's the mother hen, and her children have rights over things that are important to her. But it's this RIGHT, that brings pride.

Everytime I open my cell phone and see this ugly yellow band-aid, it's almost like a photograph of Emmett. And it's precious to me. Everytime I walk by the cabinet and see the stickers, there's a sweet feeling "Emmett's here. Emmett's involved. Emmett feels this is HIS house". And I think about my kids being teenagers and wanting to put stickers on my car, or wanting to hang something in the living room, or putting a poster in my front window, or having the van be a permanent place for the drums, or marking my cell phone with a sticker of their favorite band, and I WILL LET THEM, because there's pride I have in knowing that they are mine and that I am theirs and our lives are intermingled to the point that they want to put their individual marks on things that we share. That they feel enough a part of my world that they want to brand things.

Sometimes I forget I have a blog.

I literally forget. I forget so many things these days. Having kids, being married — it all seems to make a woman become dull. When you're doing something constantly (like thinking, or learning, or working) everything is in the forefront of your mind. When you're not, it all goes into some dark little corner somewhere. I don't know how to find it.

There are so many things I don't know. I have an antagonizing friend that constantly reminds me of this. Of all the times in my life that school would seem fascinating, now is that time. I'm a late bloomer, just like my father. It's NOW that I think learning in school would be fascinating.

My whole house smells like buttered bagels. I guess the diner on the corner has it's door open.

I continue to half-exist in my reality, quietly experiencing exhilaration through imagination -- whether it's with success of a business, success in a project or imagining the days of total freedom -- I'm only half here. I've sort of given up on a perfectly clean house. It's impossible with two kids. Ethan steals my heart, but he is in constant motion -- so unlike Emmett. I allow him to destroy everything so I can get something done.

As far as relationships go -- do actions really speak louder than words? Or do we make our actions reflect our feelings. In other words, are we intentionally communicating through actions? Like, the actions aren't natural -- we do them ON PURPOSE to communicate something?

For example, there's someone I like that I want to know better, so in a given situation, I will purposely help them "clean up" or bring an extra water for them -- knowing that it will show the fact that I want to be their friend. I wonder if actions are just as confusing as words.

On the opposite side of this, if I'm hurt or angry at someone, I will purposely not respond to an email or not take a call or not help them with something. My action here isn't natural. It's reflective of something I want that person to know.

Some of my words speak louder than my actions. Many times my actions are plotted to communicate. I am so complicated, I can't even understand myself sometimes. I know how I feel. The problem is, it's not constant. As much as I seem like an open book, I have a weave of what works in communication. And much of me stays behind that weave, filtering what I want and what I don't want people to know.And I'm not really saying I do this perfectly. I reveal too much, I go too far at times, but I'm aware that I don't like to cry in front of people and I don't like people to know I'm weak.

I don't know if people can actually read people by way of words and actions. I think you just have to perceive and trust your feelings. The problem for me with this is that I get things wrong. I have to go to the most extreme scenario first and operate from there.


Here's what's happening:

Living Room Photo Shoot: I've only showed these to a few people (Mike, Butch and Jessica) but here are a few photos from our Living Room Photo Shoot. She took about 1,000 photos. These are the ones she put on her personal account. I can't wait to start advertising.

SpyGate 08: I'm involved in a spy mission and JB and I have gone twice to spy. Once, MG was with us too. I can't get into details here, but let's just say I'm part of Spygate 08. No makeup. Jocky outfit. Hair in ponytail.

Fair Trade 10-4: I am part of a team working to do this event. If you click on the picture, you can read more. Our original dream was to get big bands, but did you know they cost around 25-35,000? I was kind of shocked. We're going smaller. I am still waiting back to hear from the city for final approval. It's making me very, very nervous.

Work: I feel like I really messed up with one of my clients and my favorite one. I'm worried they'll never call me for work again. It's depressing to even think about this. Still, I have my other two clients. Emmett asked me the other day "Soon your work will end, right mommy"? and I said "It's going to become less" and he said "but soon it will be over, right"? I miss not working.

So many things are happening at once

and how many times will my blog read this? I'm sure I have this headline.

Fair Trade 10-4: We're working on a Fair Trade Benefit (or awareness) Show for October 4, during Fair Trade Month. We're trying to get a major headlining band, and it's not easy. Any cash we put out comes from my pocket and we probably have to pay a band. We have space for 1,000 people. There is so much work involved in this -- even just with the city. If anyone has connections to a "real" band, please let me know. I talked to Transfair and they are into it, but don't have anything to sponsor us. I have a team going -- Phil, Ana, Jess, Mike and this other guy James. We need to meet again asap.

Living Room Clothing: Our Photo Shoot is this weekend. We have that all figured out, but the problem is our tagline "Do Good Things" is taken. I have to think of a new tagline. If anyone has any variations on this (that mean the same thing and are still simple and close in language, please please help!) We're meeting with Carina Romano this weekend under a bridge. We have a bunch of models -- some that she's bringing, some that we're bringing. They are going to model and she's going to use our shot list and add her own environment shots to it. We have to bring a lot of our own stuff, including Living Room Furniture.

Work:I have 7 projects due this week. I have three clients. Dre Xel, C om cast, and Tri-L iving Well. All three of them are active. Of course, I like Co Mcast the best, becuase the work is the most fun and the company is successful. I went into the new building for a meeting yesterday. It is pretty amazing in there.

Camps and Pre-school: Emmett is now in skateboarding. He starts Ana's art camp next week. The following week he's in The Franklin Institute Camp. After that, he's in an art school on SAturdays. Mike thinks I'm crazy. I think Emmett needs this kind of stiumulation. Next year, I have to figure out pre-school for him. There is a French pre-school and I'm thinking of sending him there. I love the one he's been going to, but I'm afraid he's too old for it. All his other friends are going to kindergarten.

St. George T-shirt: Mike finished a design for their shirts this morning so this burden is off. I thought I would have to do it.

T-shirt Orders: There's a lady who called to order t-shirts. She just happens to be the daughter of the person we'd like to give us a loan. (she found us independently).

Shore: I went to the shore and had a great time in Wildwood. I really don't like Wildwood, but I still had fun. For me, Ocean City is where I want to be.

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Everything is depressing to me right now. I will spare you all the sad story because I'm sure I will recant it all later. I'll write more after this passes, but I'm trying to log the time to see how bad these mood swings are.