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But here's Part II to Upper Darby. Long overdue.

2009-05-23T09:22:00.004-04:00

Part one was to establish my history. Part two was supposed to happen shortly after part one, but things got really busy.

A few months ago, I asked a few friends if they would go to a Beef and Beer benefit for someone I knew in Upper Darby that died suddenly. It was a guy I sort of grew up with. I went to youth group with him and his family and my family were friends. They both said okay. It was like $25 to get in, but they were cool to go.

So we went, and at the last moment I got totally freaked out. i was scared of seeing people I knew. I realized that I felt disconnected to Upper Darby in a way that was actually creating an embarrassment in attending this event. But I forced myself to go and so did they. And in the end, we had a great time -- to the point that we were among the last people there. To the point that we were dancing (by ourselves). to the point that we played cell phone photo wars for like 20 minutes.

As true as my original post is, it's only trues as a backdrop for what I'm about to say. It's because of THIS EVENT that I even wrote it. And if you get one thing from these posts, it's this:

FOR AS CLUNKY AS A TOWN IT WAS, THE PEOPLE IN UPPER DARBY ACCEPTED ME UNCONDITIONALLY. IT IS A PLACE FULL OF NON-JUDGEMENTAL, BASICALLY GOOD PEOPLE. IT SOMETHING I NEVER REALIZED BEFORE AND FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE, I CAN SAY THAT I'M PROUD TO HAVE BEEN RAISED THERE.

Upper Darby has never been something I've felt "proud of" - THE HISTORY.

2009-02-08T08:43:00.008-05:00

It's my hometown, and a place I've always felt embarrassed of. My father would call our town "clunky", and we lived there, but never participated in it.

My house was on the corner of 69th & Marshall Road - a main artery into Philadelphia and a really busy street. The back of our house was Woodcliff Road and that was our neighborhood. There were about 50 tiny row homes on my street, and the police would come at least once a week. When that would happen, my whole family would run up to the bedroom facing the neighborhood, shut off the lights and watch from the window. Here are some things I remember:

1. The house closest to ours was a crack house for a few years

2. The pink structure next to our house that became an old man bar (but not a "cool one") and my parents fought to close it after the customers started peeing on our steps.

3. The H______ house, 3 doors up on the right, had 7 children and routine domestic violence, drugs and other things. The police were called weekly and the children were a mess.

4. The T______ house, 5 doors up on the right, had a lesbian mother and I was not allowed to play with Bobby and Denise because of it. They were our age.

5. The P_____ house, 6 doors up, had a firefighter son and they were all about sitting on their porch every night and getting wasted.

6. H____'s house, on the corner (previously the crack house) with another lesbian mom and her two daughters -- also our age. We were allowed to play with them, but it was still only sometimes.

7. The "Elivs" house, about 15 doors up, with a girl about Audrey's age in a dishelved life with a huge bust of Elvis and an alcoholic mom.

8. The P_____ house, at the very top of our street, home to a bunch of sisters. One of them was murdered in a nearby cememtary.

9. The O_____ house, a block away, with twin metal head brothers that were into satan worship. They had drinking parties in their basement in 8th grade and eventually vandalized a church, decapptitating a statue of Mary.

The boy in the T_____ house, was sentenced to jail for molesting the 2 year old he lived next to. He did some weird things to Audrey and I too, but nothing like that. Denise got pregnant in 9th grade. One of the Haggerty brothers, who always had a runny nose, sold my parents a bag of jelly beans for a school fundrasier for $7 and never broght them over. Eventually, he admitted, that he bought a shirt with the money. There were beat up cars around, one of them with a sticker that said "I like blondes, brunettes and redheads" (and "redheads had a big indellible X on it). We'd find drug paraphalia in our yard. We'd find homeless people sleeping on our porch.

This was where I grew up. In a crappy block, riddled with problems. In an area a few blocks away from "murder" points including the PathMark parking lot, Cobbs Creek and Fernwood cemetary. Audrey and I grew up protected from all of it. We had no interaction with our block and were not allowed.

Having said that, these are the people I didn't write about:

Nannie - The sweet old lady that lived in house #3 that would always give us candy. The cool lesbian couple that lived across the street and took pictures of me when I went to my prom. Al, the quiet gay guy that lived 2 doors up. The really nice couple that had the 2 year old that was molested. The people on the corner with about 5 fierce dogs in the basement, that called the cops and were the unofficial neighborhood watch. My best friend Chrisolua that lived on the next block. Jerrry, Joe Joe, Georgie and Peter Cooper -- the kids that we played with constantly (but all moved away). The Wigner family, a really nice family that lived on the next street that were our friends. The "Me Without You" boys family, who's mother was totally cool and my mom really connected with. All the people on my block that would hang out at night, sitting on their porches talking across the street to one another. In my memory, this side was totally overshadowed by the other.

I went to the elementary school up the block and then my parents struggled to send us to The Christian Academy in Brookhaven. It was a disaster in a different way.Finally, they brought us back to Upper Darby High School District, seeing that I was miserably rejected by every girl in my class. I was in 8th grade.

So now you get a sense of it. We were raised feeling separated from where we lived. By the time we got to school, we felt different. And this is sort of where my story begins.

I went through high school thinking of my clunky, white trash town -- feeling separated from it. My scope of Upper Darby didn't go far beyond 69th Street, and aside from clubs and activities, I had friends that were "like me" but didn't interact with the community as a whole. In 10th Grade, I met Chris and Janine and other kids from Drexel Hill (the better part of Upper Darby) and my friend circle, although large, involved little community hanging out.

I left school feeling to some degree superior to my neighborhood. I was raised with culture, a strong sense of morality and with a family that was nothing like our neighborhood. So, although I was in dozens of clubs and activities, my view of our community was white trash because of my house. I never went to parties and really didn't hang out with anyone, besides Chris, Janine and sometimes Jenn and Heather -- socially.

Here's what you come away with: My view of Upper Darby was 69th Street and I felt superior to it.

I've had to drive a lot lately

2009-01-16T06:28:00.002-05:00

and while I was in a traffic jam on 76 yesterday, I was weaving my way into the fast lane, trying to get through traffic. And I did. I stayed in the fast lane, and kept moving to the slow lane when it seeemed to go faster. And at the end of the jam, I looked behind me, and there was the golden Dodge mini-van that I saw in the slow lane way back. It was the car that wasn't switching lanes. And I realized that there's some kind of weird analogy here between Mike and I.

I am always trying to get things finished fast. My mind is in overdrive trying to do things quickly. Where, with Mike, he takes everything slow and steady. In the end, we arrive at the same place. And there's something to be said for the intelligence of the person that understands that being in the slow lane doesn't actually always mean you're going slower. It means you have the ability to see further down the road.

Living Room Clothing is a point of contention for Mike and I right now. It has been going painfully slow and most of my work is done. I'm taking this analogy and applying it to Mike, (hoping) that he sees something I don't see in getting to the end of the road.

Realizations

1. MUSIC: I'm becoming more open minded. I love men's voices that are high and low. I love women's voices that are weird or low. I love men's and women's voices that are lazy. BUT I DO NOT LIKE flowery women's voices. I am not into vibrato and I'm not into women's voices that are high-pitched. I am not into any voice, male or female, without tension or a problem.

2. HEARING: As you all know, I had surgery on my ear. I can't hear out of my left ear and I feel like I'm on drugs. I feel disconnected from people because everything is off balance. I stopped taking Perkasets for the pain because I realized it's only making things worse.

3. NEAT ENVIORNMENTS: I believe this affects my children directly. When our house is neat, they seem gentle. When it's not, they seem overly energetic.

There have been a lot of changes over the past few months. Ethan is growing into the cutest phase ever. Emmett is becoming smarter by the day. Last night, he invented his own finger puppets. He cut paper and put a piece of tape behind it so you could slide it onto your finger. We drew all kinds of pictures.

I was thinking yesterday,

2008-12-16T05:20:00.004-05:00

about a site I really like. Slickdeals. It's a deal site where I do all my Christmas shopping. It just lists all the online sales, price mistakes etc. and I have all these searches out for the things I want to buy for Christmas. So that's what I do instead of writing in my blog.

Well, when you have a really, REALLY good deal, it makes it onto the front page of the site and there's a whole craze that happens. It happens to everyone...even me. You stop thinking about the product and you start thinking "can I get one before it sells out". And you follow the codes and add one to your cart. And you feel like you want that item more than anything else. You feel like it's the best thing in the world. And sometimes it is, but there's a thrill with getting something that everyone else wants.

I've been overloaded with work lately. Every client I've had in the past two years and brand new clients are calling me with tons of work. And the tighter I get and the more limits I put on how much I can do, the more it seems they want me. And I realize that somehow, I've gotten on the front page of slickdeals.

Starting next week, I'll be working three days a week at the coolest company ever. I'm excited because it's social media (like a facebook type of place) and I'll get to do some design. I'm excited because my rates aren't a problem. I'm excited because I can work and come home. I'm excited because this seems like the perfect job for me. This past month has been tough. Figuring out my identity (mother, worker, sociaizer etc.) is impossible. I just want to know that when I'm with my kids, I'm with my kids and when I'm working, I'm just working. www.i de a blo b.com

Another thing I've noticed lately is this thing I've been doing that's bizzare: Falling asleep on the couch every night with all of my clothes on. And I love it. I'm not sure why, but my dream is to fall asleep on the couch without changing into pajamas. Maybe it's because I'm giving into being so tired. But it's a habit I need to break.

Here's a breakdown of what's happening:

SCHOOLS: At first we were going for the best public schools, and then I decided that I wanted to see what the private schools could give us in terms of financial aid. So for the past month, Mike and I have been schlepping around to all the schools...going on tours...parent interviews...getting tests done etc. So far, so good. We'll find out what we get in January or February. And if all else fails, we're moving. I am a person that did not have a great education. The reason was challenge. I could keep up without studying. I could skate by doing the bare minimum. And I see in Emmett, like I see in my self, a "rise to the occasion" nature. This is my biggest priority as a mom.

WORK: Yes. I've been working constantly.

FRIENDS: I love and adore my friends. I love you guys so much.

DESIGN: I've been doing little design projects here and there, but nothing worth posting.

CHRISTMAS: I've been shopping since October and am almost done. I'm excited about some of the things I have -- especially for Ana. There are a few last minute things I need to get. IF YOU LIVE IN PHILLY and you see something you want on Amazon, contact me. I get free two day shipping on almost anything (any price).This year, we made rings and hung them. Every morning, I stick an activity behind the ring that says what Christmas thing we need to do that day. Emmett LOVES this and I love it because we're doing things to spend time together. It's bringing Christmas to our house.

KIDS: Ethan steals my heart -- he is so much like me. His brash boyishness and unending curiosity is something I instinctively understand. He is so utterly happy, I feel like he's going to be fine. Emmett is my sidekick and my pet. I can't do enough for him. I can't kiss him enough. And we bond creatively. Emmett is thoughtful, introspective and incredibly intelligent (I have the tests to prove it!). It's in a gentle way that we connect.

AUDREY: Most of you know what has been going on. All I can say is that I love and adore Audrey more now then ever. Audrey is my other half, in a way. I cannot imagine what life would be like without her. My sisters can make me laugh in a way that's not possible for anyone else. They bring out sides of me that all of you see, only when I'm with them, they're the technicolor version...the pure cocaine version. My family is everything to me.

Emmett. Ethan. Mike. Me. The Dead Milkmen.

2008-10-27T07:58:00.002-04:00

Last night was the Dead Milkmen show, and I went out. It was amazing to see that band perform and is probably the last time I'll ever get to see them. I miss hearing them- Audrey, do you remember? We were so little -- like 12 or 13, and we walked into The Balcony, completely not knowing what we were doing and picked up Eat Your Paisely and bought it and listened to it over and over again. I was in the front, using my shortness as a reason to get in front of overweight 35 year old men. And it was just like the old days...a moving crowd, swaying back and forth -- pushing right and left and I miss that. I always loved that kind of movement. Before that, my friend Justin's band Northern Liberties played, and they were also amazing.

So many things have happened over the past few months, but most notably, I was involved in a crazy situation with a really crazy girl, and that lasted about a week. Now she's apologizing, but I'm resolute to stay away. There are certain things that you can't take back. Time is the ultimate healer because in it, there's proof.

Emmett and Ethan are still the joys of my life.
I spend way too much time on the phone.
Tonight is Jessica's birthday and we're going to a hayride.
I found out a woman I worked with died. She was 61.
I feel like I can't be normal. As hard as I try, I'm dealing with this independence thing like a lion tamer and I fail continuously. I just hope my family is not affected by my problems. I worry about them incessently.
I adore my friends. My house is too small. I hate luke warm coffee. Ethan has been talking for 1/2 hour. I should go get him.

Recent Designs

2008-10-04T07:04:00.008-04:00

Didn't write the copy on the first one. (It's awful, awful copy). The bottom two didn't print like that (it's an error), but wouldn't it be cool if they did? Some of these are boring. I did them quickly for the ad book. But they're near and dear to my heart because I was working with (literally) just a business card and had less than an hour to give them a feeling.I have done dozens more ads that I've done, but these are the ones I like more. I'm growing in design. One of my favorite things to do is design. I love trying new things and learning. And I look back and see that I really have grown so much in what I can do.

It has been really tough

2008-10-04T06:22:00.002-04:00

these past few weeks. I'm going to use this blog to empty my head and to complain and to organize most of my real thoughts. And this is where the public part gets in the way. Because you don't really want to be negative on your blog. When you're writing for a reader, you want to condense your thoughts and stay positive and focused. But awhile ago, I decided to move this blog away from writing for other people and into writing for myself. All I write in my career are words that prove something. What I need is a place where I don't have to think about what words are doing.

Preschool: Emmett hasn't been in school for a month. The preschool we had him in has turned out to be a total disaster. It was wonderful last year. It was great the year before. But this year, it's totally different, and I pulled him out. I'd rather have him home with me than have him at a school that's not good for him.

In a nutshell, the Pre-k he was in became a daycare center in a way. They began admitting 2 year olds, and the calibur of kids coming in were not what I want surrounding Emmett. I am extremely protective of who he's with and where he plays and what's influencing him. And picking him up from a place I'm not comfortable with is not okay with me.

There are people who feel okay with having their kids in situations that are not perfect, but I am not one of them. Put me on the front lines. I'm fine to bridge a divide. I'm okay to hang out with "even the least of these". I grew up in an environment with people that were very different than our family. But with Emmett, No. I don't care what anyone says. Emmett is far too sensitive and too easily influenced. I want to control the environments that he's in, and this is one that I'm going to control. So I called every top level Pre-school in the city. I stopped worrying about the cost. I stopped caring about the distance. If it was a yuppie, urban, academically superior school -- I called it. And every, single one of them is full. So, I have a sketchy plan to try to start a co-op -- an academically-focused Pre School with other parents that want something better. In my head I have the plans for this, but I haven't had time to write it up.

Kindergarten: this is the next stress for me. I will not send Emmett to a sub-par school. Having grown up going to crappy schools, it is extremely important to me that my kids grow in a place that pushes them. My schools didn't. My Elementary school and Middle school had a lot of neighborhood kids that loved getting F's. It was cool to do drugs. It was cool to come from a broken home. It was cool to be on the lowest level track. My block had a massive amount of domestic and sexual abuse, and one of the neighbors (a boy a little older than us) tried to do something in that realm with us. No. I will not do it. I want Emmett separated from all of that. I want him in the best school with the best kids, because then I know the focus is different. So, I'm looking at the city's top school. It costs $16,000 a year. We'd have to get massive financial aid. But I'm going to try for it. And if it doesn't work out, I don't know what we're going to do. Maybe we'll just pay for it and hope for the best. I can't send Emmett to a school I'm worried about. This is the most major thing in raising my kids.

Living Room Clothing: Why is this so hard? We have people that want to buy our shirts. We can't get a t-shirt sample that's right. I don't know what the deal is. I don't know what to do.I wonder if our designer is into this anymore. She seems irritated with us. She seems frustrated. We have a quality first mentality with this whole thing and have spent thousands of dollars trying to get this right. It is depressing for me to talk about this but...

We have an El Salvador trip scheduled in November: I don't want to go. I can't go. Mike has to go himself...for a week. I am so nervous about this in many, many ways. Aside from the fact that this vendor has been difficult to work with...

We don't have any money: We are struggling to make ends meet. Mike needs to work, yet I need him here. Work is harder for him to find. His feild is saturated. Mine isn't. Right now, Mike is Ethan's primary care provider. I want to work but I miss worry-free raising of my child.

Fair Trade 10-4 was not approved by the city: I don't even want to talk about this 50 hour fight. I now have direct connections to the mayor's office to try to get it approved above Capitolo Park.

The FEstival Magazine: Came and went and this year was the hardest ever. The printer didn't print all of our books. They came out looking not so great. Mike and I have been in extremely strained relations as a result of the failure of this. No one there knows the behind-the-scenes of this terrible, terrible ordeal. 150 combined hours PLUS. Several overnights. A printer that promised the world and delivered 500 of our 700 books.

Lastly, my ears: If you want to read the long story of what's gone wrong, go to Philly Blog and read my detailed post. Then, know that yesterday, they poured Hydrogen Peroxide into my ear and the hole (the pointless hole in my ear drum that they made) wasn't healed. Can you imagine what it feels like to have Hydrogen Peroxide drip into your inner ear? It is excruciating pain. As it was happening, I was thinking this is torture. This is a form of torture. Chop someone's finger off or insert a hole into their eardrum and pour hydrogen peroxide and water into it. It's the same level of pain. I came home and cried for 3 hours about the whole of this terrible experience. (Again, you have to read Philly blog to understand this terrible experience).

The result of all this? An anxiety attack. Massive stomach problems and diarriah. Lack of sleep. Depression on and off. Divorce talks with Mike.Irritability with children. Crying for hours and hours. Things are very, very bad. I long for the light at the end of this tunnel. I want God to save me. I have so little interest in God right now.

Here are other things depressing: A messy house. I lost my notes for one of my clients and they were very important notes for an upcoming project. SElf-time, there ins't any and I need to take care of myself. Smoking -- I have a serious smokers cough that I can't control and am worried that it's too late. In addition, my friend predicated that I have 3 years to live. Marriage is hard. It's on the rocks. We are not acting like we're married. We're just dwelling. Mildew in the bathroom. The cat's peeing somewhere on the rug. I'm dropping the ball with getting involved in Capitolo Park winning a contest. I am not teaching Emmett every day. He's not learning anything. There's very little family time. My ear still hurts. I lost my nose piercing. I see aging in my face. I don't have work clothing. Our house is way too small. I need to repot plants, as if I have the time. We are living in chaos.

There are so many things about my kids

2008-09-13T07:08:00.007-04:00

I should write about. And a lot of times I think I should just live and let memories be precious and let some of them slip away. But it's 7am, everyone is asleep (except Emmett -- sort of, who wants to come down and watch TV, but my friend Chris is sleeping on the couch). I feel like this is a good time to talk about my kids and how they're growing.

EMMETT - 4 1/2
Emmett is not like a 4 1/2 year old. He's like a 5 or 6 year old. In fact, last weekend he played with a 7 year old and had a great time. Emmett is exceptionally mature for his age. He is very in touch with his behavior and his feelings. He's obedient, he loves to learn (in periods of 20 minutes) and wants to do what's best for himself (drinks water a lot-- by choice). Emmett and I continue to have a very special bond. He knows that I love him very specially and in a different way then I love Ethan. Emmett is the apple of my eye. He's my first child. He's an angel. Every child loves him. When we were at the playground the other day, there were two little boys arguing over "which team" Emmett would be on. He loves music and at least once a day I play Star Wars and Indiana Jones themes for him. Here are his favorite songs: Star Wars theme, Indiana Jones theme, Seventy times Seven (Brand New), Fish Heads (TMBG), Particle Man (TMBG), Pirates who Don't Do Anything (Relient K), Yellow Submarine (Beatles).

Emmett is an amazing dancer. He rocks out to fast songs on this list. He dances like my dad. He takes up a lot of space. He also idolizes skaters and wants to be a skater more than anything. He wants to wear his hair in a ponytail. He eats very well at dinner. He loves to get tickled. He plays Playmobil and Little Legos constantly. He writes his name very well. He asks me questions constantly, and they're smart questions. In the Brand New Song, the singer says "Think of me when you forget your seatbelt and then when your head goes through the window" and Emmett was asking about that line and what it meant. I explained that it is a really great song, but that that part was kind of not as great and that he was saying that he wanted his friend to think of how angry he was if he ever got into a car accident. Emmett didn't understand it. The point is, he was listening to the words.

I'm worried about Emmett's preschool. The teacher is wonderful and has promised to provide more advanced work for him, but I worry that Emmett is ahead of the rest. There's only one other 4 year old in the class. We are looking into other options.

Emmett is like my little buddy. He does well with rules and routines. He does well with discipline. It makes him love me more -- it's strange. Emmett wants to be parented and excels in structured environments with rules.

ETHAN - 11 months
Ethan melts my heart and is so much like me, it makes me smile. Ethan is my baby. He's energetic and gets into everything. He has a short attention span but is always very happy. If he's unhappy, he makes sure to communicate it by putting all of his effort and energy into a strained and angry sound. It is utterly adorable. He barely cries. He LOVES to go out. All day he is trying to get out the door. As of 2 days ago, Ethan learned to clap (to say good job). And yesterday, while Emmett was listening to music, Ethan was clapping ALONG WITH THE BEAT OF THE MUSIC. He was in perfect beat for what felt like a long time. He also learned to play the recorder by blowing into it. Whenever there's music on, Ethan dances as much as he can. He loves dancing with Emmett. He also idolizes Emmett. He wants to be with him all the time. And he loves action. He gravitates toward "the most" action in the room. Whether it's me on the computer or Emmett playing with a friend, Ethan wants in wherever the most is happening. And he's tough. He rarely cries from pain. Shots are no problem. When he bangs his head on something, it's a quick cry followed by laughter. He has a very high pain threshold.

Ethan has a special relationship with rough and tough men that play rough. Particularly my dad. Ethan loves rolling around and fake punching etc. He's thrilled to be thrown up in the air. There's little that scares him... except the vacuum cleaner. He is petrified of that sound.

Mike holds Ethan much more than I do (mainly because I'm working) and I'm not worried about this. With Emmett, I would have been. But Ethan is so laid back (even from an early age) that I know he's fine. He's much more simple than Emmett and much less complicated in his thinking. If he wants something, he just wants that. If he wants my attention, he'll let me know. The connection with taking things personally isn't there, whereas with Emmett, even at a young age I could see this sensitivity. In this way, Ethan is not like me and I love him for it. He's a guy's guy. He has brute force and strength. He's messy, squirmy and wants action all the time. I ADORE him for this and he melts my heart.

Ethan has been smiling since he was 3 months old and when he was first born and smiling, I used to call him Smilefest 2007. He makes playing very rewarding by laughing hard and smiling big. He wakes up in the morning smiling. Ethan is confident and stable. He KNOWS he is adored by the family and he knows he's one of us.

Phineas.

2008-08-30T07:08:00.002-04:00

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.

.

2008-08-29T20:22:00.001-04:00

Insurance commercials are like porn movies.

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

2008-08-21T06:32:00.004-04:00

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.

2008-08-16T07:16:00.009-04:00

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

2008-08-07T06:36:00.008-04:00

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.

.

2008-08-04T11:37:00.003-04:00

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.

I went to the ear doctor yesterday

2008-07-25T08:46:00.002-04:00

to get my ears sewn up. My ears have been "almost ripped through" since I was in 8th grade. I always felt it had to do with wearing very heavy 80's earrings from the Asian store up the street. Anyway, a few weeks ago, Mike said "Elisabeth, you have to your ears fixed. I can't keep trying to buy you stud earrings". And I thought about it and realized, yeah. A whole new world of earring fashion could be mine if I had regular earring holes.

On the other side of my ear issues, I am a borderline canidate for a hearing aid. I've always had hearing problems. (details are two posts below, headed in pink).

So, yesterday I went in and had it done. This is my story.

My doctor really didn't tell me much. He had a student in with him and was very focusted on her. While I was being prepped, I said "I wanted to ask you about the balance problem in my ears. I know there's nothing that can be surgically done for the hearing, but is there anything that can be done for my balance issues? I'm always sniffing to try to adjust the sounds in my ears". He said "Yes, actually you can have tubes put in." I said "I had those when I was younger" He said "It's okay, sometimes people get them many times in their lives. What I like to do is make a small puncture in the ear drum and let people try it out for a week to see how they feel. It usually takes about 2 weeks to heal. I can do the procedure today, while you're here".

So, I decided okay. Let's get all this ear crap over with. I told him okay and he began with the rips. He sewed them up, all the while chatting with the student. At one point I interjected (realizing, he'd told me nothing about this) "Will there be a scar" and he said there would be for awhile but it would to away totally. Then he was done and he moved onto procedure #2.

He started prepping me and said "I'm going to put a topical anesthesia on your ear drum" I said "Will this hurt" He said "I'll tell you before I do it. Yes, you'll feel it". I said "Will this be unbearable pain?" and he said "I'm going to do it now" and
IT WAS UNBEARABLE PAIN! I was almost shaking. It took a second though and he said "You might hear a muffled sound in your ear.

A muffled sound? I could barely walk! My one ear was much louder than my other one (and still is) and when I would "sniff" to balance, a stream of air went directly inside my head. I couldn't listen to them. I stumbled out of the office to Anthony who was going to fix a layer on my hair. I walked my bike, totally unable to ride.

I walked into Anthony's almost screaming because I couldn't guague my loudness saying "Anthony I feel like I'm on drugs. I can't hear, I got my ear drum punctured and my rips sewn up" and I stumbled to the chair. Anthony was very kind and told me it was okay if I acted like I was on drugs. I went on and on about how shocked I was that the doctor didn't warn me of the "after effects" of these minor things. At the end, I realized everyone in the salon had stopped talking and was simply listening.

I woke up in the middle of the night to find blood all over my pillow. I am in massive pain and my ears look like Frankenstein's forehead.

More later. Mike is working and kids are awake. More about the band showcase Phil and I are planning.

Dream about Audrey

2008-07-22T08:55:00.005-04:00

I was in LA, and this girl came over to Audrey's house. She was there to buy this strange radio like thing that Audrey had on her wall. Except, it wasn't really a radio. It was like a transmission receiver thing. Audrey told me the girl wanted to pay $50,000 for it and she was so excited.

I went to Audrey's house (which was big and beautiful) and the check was sitting on the table. Audrey brought me into her kitchen secretly to show me. I was so excited because this radio thing (which was next to an under-counter kitchen radio) was hanging off the wall with all these wires coming out. I knew it was worth something, but $50,000 seemed insane. It did something with transmission and was high tech, but old high tech.

The girl had a very big, round, pug nose..mousy blonde/brown short hair, glasses, and was sort of in a hippie, earthy fashion -- but not done well. I was sitting in this waiting area and I heard them talking in the kitchen. The girl was saying she would be getting her paycheck the next week and I heard mumbling. All of the sudden, the girl came in smiling and Audrey motioned I should come into the kitchen.

Audrey whispered that the girl had somehow convinced Audrey to go online (possibly on this weird radio thing) and buy tickets to Puerto Rico (or some place like that) for her family because she was trying to make her boyfriend's family like her. She promised Audrey she'd pay her back the next week. I remember $700 coming into play and I'm not sure if it was per ticket or for all the tickets. Anyway, the girl saw us talking and started trying to "bond" about men saying "You know how you'll do anything for a guy. Well I love this guy and I just want him to love me. He's so beautiful. He's half Puerto Rican and half Irish". All of the sudden, the boyfriend came in the house. He was cute, sort of. He had very light blue eyes and blonde hair. He didn't look at all mixed like she was saying.

The girl managed to get invited for dinner, and there was this huge bag of fresh turkey meat on a shelf. I thought they may have brought it. I heard her say to her boyfriend "Oh, just ask Audrey, she can afford it." My mom was there all of the sudden too. I was like "What are you talking about" the girl said "All this. Her huge house. The black counters in the kitchen". I said "How dare you. They busted their asses to get where they are now. I watched them. They gave up everything. And if you had any idea of how much of the things you're seeing are used in here, HOW DARE YOU". And I grabbed her by the collar, and clutched her neck and threw her against a wall.

I sneered, grabbing her collar more tightly, "I know you think Audrey is so sweet and likes to help people, but I like to hurt people". She was looking up at me scared with her ugly big, pug nose that squashed her face. Our faces were like an inch a part and I grabbed her collar tighter. i said "If you don't pay her back in one week for this, I will find you and hurt you".

She got up, brushed off and walked out of the room and went upstairs to consult with her boyfriend. I went into the kitchen and told Audrey that I felt that she was being taken advantage of and Audrey listened. I was like "Audrye, just call the airline and tell them your kids called and booked the tickets". The two came down. The girl said "I'm still going to stay for dinner. I think we can work this out".

All of the sudden, this Puerto Rican old lady came into the house and everything got kind of crazy because she was old. The couple left.

So we called the airline to cancel the tickets and we had someone pretending to be an old Puerto Rican woman (I feel like it was THAT girl, but I don't see how that would make sense). We said "Someone made reservations. They might have called me "Nana" or "Mi Abueleo" or something, but we need to cancel the tickets" in a very thick accent like a very old lady. The woman on the other end said "You should know, we dont take reservations".

Things to note:

1. My mom appeared when I defended Audrey and was pleased with my verbal actions.
2. We didn't kick them out of the house. I felt it was akward and couldn't do it.
3. The girl looked very much like this girl that used to like Mike a long time ago.
4. In the end, we didn't know where the money went.
5. I didn't live in LA. Audrey's house was huge and beautiful and they were doing well, but not rich.

I get into these funks sometimes

2008-07-21T07:22:00.016-04:00

- when I don't write a lot. I stop thinking about things. I am just doing. And during these times, I think of things and promise myself to think about them more later. It's weird, when I was little, I remember hearing people say "I'll have to think about that" and that combination of words being so confusing to me. Scheduling a thought? I always thought it was just some kind of an excuse that adults used because you can think whenever you want to. I always felt, don't you know what you think?

As I'm getting older, I get it. I understand why you would intentionally think about something, particularly when making a decision. I also understand trying to remember something which is really hard for me. My memory is so bad, it's actually scary. I have no short term memory and this includes names, events -- almost everything. And what freaks me out is sometimes what I remember isn't what happened. I'm going to be one of those old ladies with glory years stories that didn't happen. For that reason, I'm going to write them down.

Best Burger in Philly night: I took my friend out for his birthday to have the "best burger in Philly". It's supposed to be this one. Not only was this not the best burger in Philly, it was totally disgusting. It was filled with a gob of blue cheese. I ate 3 bites of mine and was done.

Kutztown Daytrip: Chris, Seph, Emily, Ethan, Emmett and I went to Kutztown for the folk fest. But it wasn't happening, so we ended up going to the Airport Diner, Renningers and to some weird Mennonite lady's house that had rooms and rooms of junk for sale. It was fun. I can't remember why, but I think music had something to do with it.

N o Sw eat Conference: We went to the N.S. Conference last week and made Living Room Clothing T-shirts. I was there for an hour and left stating to Mike "I hate these people". And I do. I hate them because they hate me. And they hate me becuase I'm trying to start a business and they think I should be in some kind of non profit organization. I could go on and on about how this mentality is so backwards to me, but I think you can fill in the gaps. The world needs both.

Kalpoona's Visit: Kalpoona came and visited after the conference. Kalpoona is the woman from Bangladesh that we're trying to work out a factory with. And we did. We did it while she was here. In the meantime, I'm going to post myspace pictures of my family in full Bangladesh garb including me in a full Sari (including balloon pants). I love Kalpona. I love that this is all happening.

Living Room T-shirts are in:Our first organic run is in. The sizes are slightly off, so we're selling them cheaper. We have black and white, organic shirts and I'm trying to think about what to do with them. They're perfectly made, I just like my clothes a tiny bit bigger. So. If you want one, these are $10 each. (They're blank).

Jess & Colin's New House: Friday night, jess and Colin had a little gathering to Christen their beautiful, new house. I felt the community I always want to feel going over there, sitting in the backyard and hanging out. My kids were there, some of their friends were there. It was just fun and laid back. No pretension. No pressure to look good. In fact, I was wearing different color flip flops, not on purpose. This is a true representation of my life right now.

Trip to Cantina with Chris & Phil: I begrudgingly went to the Cantina with Chris and Phil and had a good time, despite the fact that they never played my dollar costing juke box songs. I feel like some strange version of a new SEinfeld with them, but it's not Seinfeld, it's something else. Chris slept over and we hung out the next day. I wish she lived with me.

Work: I've been working for Dre xel at home which has been going pretty well. Each week, I'm getting about 10 hours from them. Last week, my paperwork with Com cast was finished and I'm going to start working with them in the next week or so. I'm very excited about this. In the meantime, Mike is home on and off. He's totally freelance now and it's working out okay. It's just hard to plan things like doctor's appointments or my work schedule. If he has to work, he goes in.

Hearing Test: As most of you know, I can't hear well. As I put it to Emmett, "I'm not good at hearing". I haven't had a hearing test done in years, but I decided I should deal with the grim reality. So, I hauled my kids up to the hearing doctor and got the test. I promised Emmett one dollar if he would help me with Ethan while I was inside the test. And he entertained him like he was being paid (which he was). After the test, the woman came out and sat down with me. "You do have some hearing loss". She said. "Specifically, you can't hear consanant sounds. (As she was saying it, I was realizing I couldn't hear HER consananat sounds very well). "At this point, you could opt for a hearing aid". She showed me my chart. "It's not going to get any better. Some people may choose to get one at this point. If you feel this isn't interfering with your life, you might want to wait." WTF. It is interfering with my life. I can't hear people, fill in blanks, and look stupid because I'm not getting it or am not hearing them, but I WILL NOT GET A HEARING AID AT 35. As we walked out, I became super atune to my hearing. She said "You can wait xxxxxxxxxx here". I couldn't hear if she said "right here" or "over there". I guessed, and started moving my kids "over there". She looked at me and said "No, right here and pointed". There's an example. So, I'm not getting a hearing aid and just so everyone knows, if you can please talk loud and understand that I'm really NOT dumb, I probably just can't hear you and (without even knowing it) am filling in the words I can't hear. At the end, I was presented with a form that said "Borderline canidate for Amplification".

Windsheild: The guy came to fix our cracked windshield on our car. He put the new one in, and it cracked again. he's coming today to put a new one in. I love my minivan. We just had it in the shop. I don't know that I will ever drive a different type of car. When Mike brought up that we'll have to get a new one soon, I said "I want the same one. Same year. Same model".

Mike's Birthday: Mike's birthday was yesterday and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I did things with attention. I spent last week trying to get him a cool t-shirt (impossible with this 80's thing). I literally saw a neon yellow Urkel shirt in Urban Outfitters with hot pink "spray paint" style letters. I can't stand the 80's thing unless it's for ironic (not iconic) purposes. And I think what hhttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifappens is you start out being ironic and end up actually in the fashion. Like you can't tell anymore. You're just doing the 80's thing and no one knows you're being sarcastic because it's an actual fashion. But I digress. Here's what happened: Saturday night we all went out for a Surprise Adventure Tour to a comedy club called "Heluim" followed by a dive bar, Doobies, then back to my house. It wasn't the event I originally planned which involved a Limo and a trip through Mike's history via cleverly named locations, but it was still extremely fun. Then, there was drama which I won't even get into. But what do I expect. I'm always around it but realize all I want is peace and harmony. Sunday, we gave Mike his presents. Emmett picked out Obey bathing suit shorts which Mike really liked. I gave him 2 shirts and a pair of jeans from Urban Outfitters. I also showed him this tee, which I almost bought him, but wanted to check with him first. He loves the tee, which I'll order. He loved the (Levis 527 - Jade, on sale at Urbanoutffiters.com, but not on sale in the store). He loved the one shirt when he found out it was $9.99. He didn't love the other one. He felt like people would think he was gay. (It was a collar shirt with these human headed animals froliking around). I took him to Grasshopper to show him a jacket I considered getting him, then to Urban to show him the other things and return the shirt and exchange the pants (since, as I mentioned, I paid 46 for them, but on line they were 29.99). Easy and done. Then, jess and Colin came over, Mike made shishkabobs (I helped), we had cake, and I gave him his fixed amp. He was so happy.

It's taken me a long time to write this. I'm sure it's boring. It's really for myself so I can remember these things. Mike is now down here reading some boring papers. That's why I love this guy. He reads boring papers and finds them interesting. He doesn't have ADD. He doesn't need action. He's calm, peaceful, cultured and has amazing taste in almost everything.

This part is all about my kids.

2008-07-21T06:16:00.000-04:00

The summer is going so fast. I continue to struggle with playing. Emmett asks me to play and I can't seem to play like him. He plays where, most of the time, he's telling me what's happening or how to play. I keep saying "Emmett, let's just actually play".

In addition, I've begun introducing my Greek side to Emmett. That side is tough, blunt and straight. It's how my grandfather was and it's how I am too. Instead of faking this sugar sweet persona all the time, sometimes I allow myself to say "Emmett, I'm doing something. Wait and leave me alone and then I will help you." And he's responding to it. It's working. He's starting to understand that it's not mean. And he's doing it back. 'Mommy...wait a SECOND. I don't want to talk right now".

I called to get Emmett skateboarding lessons and breakdancing lessons and will sign him up as soon as they get back to me. All he really wants to do is boyscouts, but he's too young. I can't wait until he's old enough. He will get so into it.

In August, I'm sending him to the Franklin Institute camp for 2 weeks. Emmett is so cute with how great he thinks skaters are. Once he said "Mommy, look there's a real live skater!" Yesterday he said, "Mommy, I think that was actually Tony Hawk on that skateboard". Emmett continues to amaze me with how intrinsically cool he is. He is a genuine artist, even at this age. He spends a great deal of time drawing and painting. And he'll do these little details that remind me of my dad. He'll color something in and make the tip of it neon green. Or he'll draw all these little boxes and color them in in this scratchy (intentionally) kind of way. He's drawn to the music I like. He's slightly rebellious (I'm dealing with this). He's also very sensitive. I'm also dealing with this. As a sensitive person, I'm trying to help him build some defenses in that area. I don't want Emmett to go through life feeling hurt or being the weak kid. I want him to learn how to react strongly from a young age, so this is part of what I'm working on. In addition, I've (almost) successfully taught him the alphabet by flash card. Every morning we work on it and when we don't, he reminds me.

When we were shopping for Mike's presents, Emmett was "helping me" the whole time. I explained to him what we were looking for and he kept presenting me with possibilities. I told him we're looking for something that wasn't too loud. I explained we wanted an image in low contrast. For father's day and for this birthday, Emmett ended up picking out two things that mike loved. They passed my test and I think they're even more special to Mike in that they came from Emmett.

The pool is not as big a deal this year as it was last year. I think I need to have an all day pool party open house for Emmett and his friends. Maybe on a Saturday, I'll make a 12-4 pool party for him, just because. He has so much more fun with a friend in there.

Now. Onto Ethan.

Ethan, my baby. He is so big. So cute. So boyish and brute. A week ago, he started crawling. Now he's actually pulling himself up to stand. He literally, stands up and tries to walk. He's very silly and funny. He thinks I am a standup comedian when I play certain little games with him in the morning, specifically the "Surprise" game. I put him down to change his diaper and say "Do you have a surprise in there for me?". Then I open it up and close it really fast. He thinks this is the funniest thing ever and is particularly into the game if he has poop. He tries to talk constantly. He says Dada (sort of) and sings along with his mobile. This is the cutest thing ever. I sing my own version of "It's a small world" to a changing table mobile that "kind of" sounds like that song, and Ethan literally sings along. He's okay in the car. He's okay with almost everything. He doesn't complain. Sometimes, if we don't understand him, he gets frustrated. Bottom line, he's like a good old boy. He's cool with everything. He doesn't mind getting hurt (which has happened accidentally). He doesn't mind falling backwards. he doesn't mind a thousand kisses. If I'm laughing, he's laughing. The child (literally) wakes up smiling. Thank you God!

Yesterday, we all went out shopping with Mike and I (for the first time ever) really felt like the female of our family. I was very aware that I was the one that was leading my boys around. And they are my boys and, I'm the one that cares the most, so they let me do things my way. I decide the outfits. I decide the activity. I call what, when, where and why because I'm like their little bee with these guys...that are really just guys.

I really, really love my family.

Picture is from when Kalpona was visiting. She gave us all Bangladesh clothes

It was my last Ani DiFranco show

2008-07-10T14:42:00.005-04:00

ever. I knew that when I went. I wanted to say goodbye to that part of my life officially. I have grown past Ani DiFranco in many ways. What she represented in my life was a period of female angst, frustration, wildness and rebellion. So, my friend and I went to the show and a very strange thing happened.

Rather than "saying goodbye" to Ani DiFranco and that time, being at the show brought me back into a period of my early 20's. I lost the person I am now and I became the person I was then. So in a bizzare way, I don't think I have an association to that music outside of what it was. I still love it, but I can't be in it like I used to be.

My thoughts have been going deeper and deeper lately. I am in a constant state of analysis. I am recognizing the realness of God in people. I used to be so into Objectivism in the empty one dimensional side of humanity. But now I'm seeing the opposite. I'm seeing how important people are and how meaningful interactions can be.

It's so silly, my life, really. I am so caught up in email, shallow situations and proving things. Aside from my family, my focuses are very immature. I want so much right now to be serious all the time. i want to find deeper realities that exist outside of my head. I want to feel things more. I want to feel God more. Overall, I just want to feel more -- and feel more of the wholesome things. I want to feel more of the things that make me feel like laughing and crying at the same time.

I'm still

2008-07-06T12:25:00.004-04:00

sorting myself out. I am having a hard time feeling silly right now. Something in me has changed with this woman's death.

I think I've closed off my deeper side for awhile now. It's been replaced by a surface light, fun and focus on humor. I went through something a long time ago where I was very, very deep all the time...enjoying the company of others only for productive purposes (projects). And at the end of that 1 year stint, I vowed that I would live lightly and not carry the weight of the world on my shoulders. It was a dark and very alone period and overriding it was Ayn Rand's philosophy of objectivism and the whole Camus extentialism.

I feel like I'm opening that side of myself for the first time in 10 years, but there's something different now. It's a focus on God, spirituality and meaning. My first round was based on a distaste for people and human activity and the meaninglessness of it. But now it's the opposite. I feel aware of the meaningfulness of human activity and interaction where God is involved.

I am entering a new phase now. I don't know how my silly side will fit into all this, except that there may be an awareness that it's covering what is underneath.

I don't know that I've ever been more profoundly touched by a person than Andrea. And the most amazing part is that I barely even knew her. It was her writings, her strength and her attitude that have me in this bittersweet way. This blog might be turning.

In memory of Andrea

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I knew her a long time ago, and not very well. But I've been reading her blog on and off for awhile now, and her passing has me saddened in a very quiet and alone way. It's amazing to me how much her last words have changed the way I'm thinking -- and about everything. I feel peace in the air right now. Everything feels so dark and quiet and unfamiliar to me, but I feel a sense of peace for her.

I am not even going to read any of the trivial things I wrote about on the page that's showing because my obsession with small things is disgusting to me. God is so great, so amazing and so strong. I feel that Andrea did more for a deep understanding of life than anything else in a very, very long time. She is a hero to me for her incredible strength and power and is in a league with only three others.

I really don't know how it works when you die, but I have a sense that, even though she's not seeing or hearing exactly what people are saying, that she knows or senses the things she has done. So going with this, I want to make it known to the world that Andrea Collins Smith was an amazing person with an ability to do more during her final days than many people do in their entire lives.

Thank you God.

Background music is on every

2008-07-04T06:52:00.007-04:00

every blog I write. I'm going to start to include the song, if I can. If you want to hear what I'm writing to, just the play button on the gray bar. I think the music always affects my post.

So much has happened. There are the "actual events" ...and then there are the things I think about. The things that you can't see happening, but this is the actual event for me.

So, I guess I'll start with Knoebels. We went there for a week on our first family vacation. And I had all these G rated TV show dreams of my family running around so perfect and so loving. I felt like I would be lavishing attention on Emmett -- playing Little Legos, playing Memory. Listening to his dreams and thoughts with undivided attention. I thought I would hold Ethan the whole time. Kissing him and making him laugh. But these things didn't happen like I wanted them to. Instead, we went to a far away cabin in the middle of nowhere and I couldn't stand being away from the Internet and my friends. The first day was good...all of us in our matching green shirts. But after that, I got distracted. I got distracted by my excitement for the weekend. I got distracted by text messages. I got distracted by my fear of heights. I got distracted by the fact I was distracted. I was half present, sort of like a zombie. I was physically there, but mentally very far away. And it continued for the rest of the week...this inability to concentrate on what I wanted to do.
So then, on Wednesday, my parents came up and they hung out there until Friday. And again, i was barely there. I was going thing to thing, text messaging caustically with a friendship that's defined by these meaningless altercations. And suddenly it was Friday and my children were leaving and I cried and cried and am crying now, because all that I wanted this vacation to be, it wasn't. And all the attention I wanted to give to my children, I didn't. And suddenly, they were leaving.

Now I can't say that anyone but Mike and I were fully aware of it. Mike is amazing in the way that somehow he understands this side of me, and "fills in" when I'm not there mentally. He helps me cover. But he was very aware of it, and kept trying to get me out of it. I was escaping and I don't know why. And there WERE memories. There were moments and times of richness, but overarching that was my absence.

Then Friday, my friends came up, and I was nervous. I was nervous because of combining two groups that I feel are so different. I was so extremely worried about one group offending the other or being too crude for my other group. These groups represent two very real sides of myself -- the first, gentle, intellectual, sensitive, silly and intentional. The second, reckless, rebellious, pushing boundaries, insulting and fun in a reckless way. By the time Saturday rolled around, I had a serious amount of gray hair (and this is by no means a joke). But, it all worked. I don't give my "home" group enough credit in an ability to handle recklessness. And I don't give my other group enough credit in reflecting based on situations and having the ability to enjoy something besides borderline behavior. Everyone melded beautifully...everyone liked everyone.

My favorite memories include going randomly to a slightly cold pool with Phil, Psydde, Mike, Colin, Jessica and Chris -- the waterslide competitions and Chris "dissing the man" without paying for a pass, and going down the slide fully clothed. And the late night "horror movie" we made right before a 1am smorgasborg of food. And did I get drunk? no. I didn't need to. The shocking "Sloosh" with Psydde, Chris and Phil, and how we "thought" the ride was over, but got soaked when we were walking off the ride, backs to the floon on the splash bridge, and shocked (literally) when we were hit with a huge wave. Laser tag...Chris' victorious win and my second place status. The balloons Seph decorated the cabin with. The impromptu crossword puzzling started by Jessica and Colin that included Psydde. And of course, the Tilt-a-Whirl.

So there it was...Sunday morning. Over. And all my excitement about my children and the quality vacation were wrong...I failed. And all my apprehension about combining groups that I was sure would cause conflict were wrong. So I got nothing right. And I was sad it was over, but so guilted by having fun without my children...and knowing Ethan was sick, I couldn't wait to get home and stop having fun.

The ride home was difficult for Mike. I went through my failings realizing that I cannot stand boundaries of any kind -- including that of my role as a wife and mother and I'm destined to continue failing. That even if the walls are harmless and meaningless, as soon as they're up, I'm devising ways to knock them down. Anything I "have" to do, I don't want to do. And I hate myself for these things. I just want to be normal and I feel at times angry at God for creating a person like me and expecting me to fit into these normal social roles. I feel like picking up and running away from everything 25% of the time and grabbing one friend and going somewhere very far away without a trace. But I would die without my children and would probably be a drug addict without my husband. As much as I rebel against boundaries, these are the things that keep me in check. But somehow, Mike got me out of it. Listening patiently and asking gentle questions. He made it all stop.

Sorry for going off like this. Blog-wise, it's probably more interesting to read about events. Just events, without all the drama in my head. The problem is, in this situtation (for me) the event was what was in my head.

TODAY is a last minute BBQ and pool party here
WEDNESDAY is Ani DiFranco
and the story continues.

And the other thing that's been really affecting me is this: http://www.punkrockmommy.org
I've been following her blog for awhile. I knew her way, way back, but have no relationship with her now. She's got less than 3 weeks to live.

The word Philoptochos sounds like

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a swamp creature to me, but it's not. I can never spell it. I can barely pronounce it. But it's something I'm a part of at church and last night I went to a Philoptochos dinner. Here's what it is:

Philoptochos: whose name means "friend of the poor," is a philanthropic sisterhood. The benevolent works of Philoptochos are a continuation of Christ's earthly ministry. They not only help those who are financially poor, but also those who are in poor spirit, health, and companionship. The Greek Orthodox Ladies Philoptochos Society is the largest philanthropic organization in the United States. The Philoptochos is the duly accredited women's philanthropic arm of the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America.

When I say I'm "part of it", I am barely. I've been to one meeting and have paid my dues once. But last night, there was this dinner and I really felt like I should go. I called my mom and asked her to come with me and treated her to it. So we went. And my mom had a great time. And there was something so wonderful for me to see her talking and laughing with these Greek women. And there's something in me that wants to be a part of them; That enjoys being in this community of people that have this rich and robust culture -- and that look like me. That to them, I am beautiful and young and all of these things that I only am to them. They accept me because I'm Greek.

But besides that, I love what this group is doing. I love that I'm part of a culture that has social work built into their religion. This is just one group -- a group that's prominent (but quiet) in church, but is always fund raising and giving. I loved sitting at the dinner with these women as they chatted away about these traditional Greek things, so "into" the culture. I loved feeling normal.

HERE'S WHAT'S HAPPENING:
*******************************************************************

1. Knoebels: We're going on a family vacation to Knoebels this weekend. We leave Sunday and return Sunday. My parents are coming up on Wednesday or Thursday and taking the kids. Our friends are coming up on Friday and we're going to have adult time. Right now it's Phil, Colin, Mike, My Mike, Seph, Jess, Colin, Chris and Ana. There may be a few others, but this is the core. I can't wait to go to a place in the middle of nowhere.

2. Wayne's Party: That's this Friday and I can't wait. It's really close and Mike and I can both go. I'm working on finding a babysitter.

3. Work: I'm working for D rex el and am starting to work for C omc ast again. I also have another client, but he's sporatic with his work.

4. Pool: We have a 12 foot pool outside and the summer feels like it's just starting.

5.Living Room Clothing: There are problems, but we are plowing through. Our order of shirts is too small, so we're starting over. In the meantime, we're working with a woman in Bangladesh to start producing there. Our fashion designer is going to meet with us on this.

REVIEWS:
*******************************************************************

•The Christening was awesome, beautiful, fun, and ultimately successful. There are photos HERE

•Cirq De Solie was slightly disappointing because it wasn't as good as the last one we saw, but we still had a great time with Meredith and Scott. When they left, Mike and I went to the pub and hung out.

•Emmett's Preschool is over, and all in all I would say that St. John's Nursery School in Philadelphia is the best nursery school I could imagine. Emmett has learned so much this year and Ms. Tannie is a loving, caring woman that's imbeding strong Christian values in him.

UPCOMING:
*******************************************************************

• Wayne's Party
•Mermaid Parade (possibility)
•Knoebels
•Ani DiFranco Concert
•Living Room Clothing Photoshoot
•2-Day Work Week (onsite)

Sorry if this is a boring post. There are many deep thoughts I have right now. Some of them aren't right to publish. Others seem trivial to waste a whole entry on them. Plus, sometimes I like to just see what I've done. In addition to writing here, I'm looking for the perfect pair of jeans for my mom and I found these: http://www.tummytuckjeans.com/index.htm

I need to schedule a try on date with her.

I said to Mike last night

2008-06-12T07:20:00.004-04:00

when we were talking about leadership and roles, I said "Mike, I know I have a strong personality and it seems like I'm a good leader, but I'm a disaster. I'm a mess. I try my best to disguise it, but I am not together". I married Mike, in part, because he is stable, methodical and mentally clear. I want Mike to lead us but I overpower him with the things I think I want. I just do things, whether they're focused or not. I want to do everything. It's a serious problem because I am constantly jumping, like a child without a sense of fear. And when I'm at the bottom of the slide with a cut on my knee, Mike is always there helping me up.

Last night I went out with two friends, both of whom (I think) will read this at some point. One of them was playing a show and I love the way she plays her instrument. And I even loved the singer she played with, and i had fun going out with them. But near the end, I started to worry. I am sensitive, but talk from my hip when I'm out, and then worry that I said something wrong. I thought I caught something negative -- and I actually addressed it, but I was off. My perception was off. So this morning, I was really thinking about it. What was I picking up on? And I solved it, I think.

In my history, I was a part of three trio friendship circles. I was always the add on to two existing best friends. And in all three cases, I was part of the trio for years, but, in each one, at some point, I was the one that was cut out and not always in a mean way. I just realized that over time, the two stayed close and I was sort of out.

I realized this morning that somewhere along the line, I got over my fear of women and that is totally over. But, I am only realizing today that I'm afraid of a rejection in three. I'm afraid that I will do something wrong or that I will be the one that they talk about. Now granted, my historical trios were all "under 25" and I had my share of wrong doings, but I don't think I realized how much these divides hurt me. When I'm a friend, I'm loyal no matter what.

This whole post is a mess. Reflecting on last night, hanging out with these women that are kind, loving, fun and just hanging out... and I have issues with rejection. I have issues with past hurts, more from women than from men, and so I'm sorry to my girlfriends because I guess I'm still working stuff out that I didn't even know was there. So please forgive my paranoia because, at the time, I think I'm catching an energy. I guess it's really just my own fear.

And my last thoughts about this blog, myself etc. etc. I have to just write it all out. This is who and how I am. There are 5 people that read my blog that know they're in this post, but this is real life and this is what I do with writing. I just try to work it all out, and paramount to that is understanding people and myself in relationships.

Emmett's dream.

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Emmett came down this morning and told me he had a dream, that he couldn't remember all of it, but he would tell me what he could remember. It turned out to be two dreams, and being the way I am, I'm trying to analyze them and figure out what he's feeling. Like his father, Emmett keeps things in sometimes.

Dream #1-Alien

Emmett and I were in the house and there was a little alien. We were crawling across the living room, trying to get away from it. Then, Emmett and his friends started to fight the alien. The alien had red circles around it's eyes and was little. Then, the alien said "Good" and Emmett knew that he was saying "I'm good". So they stopped fighting the alien. Then, he turned into a little circle on the floor and Emmett wanted to keep him, but he had to go away. When I asked Emmett where I was, he said I was not there during the fight, I was in the basement. I asked him how he was fighting the alien, he said they were punching it, but he wasn't getting hurt. I asked him about where the alien went and he said well, the alien became a little circle and had to hide when Mommy's friends came over, like in the drawer that holds our cameras and that when someone like Seph came over we would tell him he was good and he would only make a joke and wouldn't hurt him.

Dream #2-Night Ghost

Emmett and Aunt Ana were walking and stopped at a shop (not a store. a shop)because one of Emmett's shoes came off. Then, he and Mike were standing by a circle on the ground (which he feels is a real circle and place in Philadelphia. In the circle was a picture of an Indian with all stuff around it. Emmett knew that in the night ghost's heart, he was going to come up to them, but in the dream he wasn't scared. When he woke up, he was scared.

I asked Emmett to draw pictures of his dream, and the ones I've included are what he drew of the alien. If you look closely, you can see red around the eyes. He can't draw it exactly, but I just said to draw even if you make some parts up.

------

So I talked to Emmett and said "Emmett, if we were ever in a movie, like Star Wars, the one that would be fighting would be Mommy, not Emmett. I'm concerned about Emmett feeling like he has to protect himself and protect us. I'm also concerned that he feels he has to hide an alien from MY friends. I'm concerned that my friends play a major part in his life. And, about the ghost dream, if you know me well, you know why I'm concerned about this.

For me, stress is

2008-05-30T07:39:00.002-04:00

a major factor in getting things done. I use stress positvely and put extreme pressure on myself to get massive amounts done in a short amount of time. I like stress because in it, I produce.

So mentally, I enjoy it. But physically, I suffer. Stress causes a serious problem for me in my stomach, on my back, and with panic attacks. And it's strange because I (literally) don't even know it's happening. I don't realize that I'm struggling until I begin to experience physical signs.

Since last night, my stomach has been hurting. Mike prayed for me this morning and I do feel better. I don't feel stressed out exactly. I know there's a lot to do but this pressure is in my usual process. But usually, after an anxiety-ridden situation is over, I have a panic attack (trouble breathing, fast heart pumping). And, the skin on my back gets very pimply.

And I don't really get it. Stress is something I need. I feel like (for the most part) I can handle it. I don't know how I would live a stress free life.

I'm really thinking about this. Is it healthy or not? Physically, you look at this and think, no. But mentally, it is. I'm starting to think that sometimes physical health and emotional health can be in conflict with one another. I firmly believe that stress (like the kind I have right now) is emotionally and mentally healthy. I actually enjoy it. But physically, my body can't take the influx of whatever chemicals I use to get me through it.

It's the Christening. That's what this is all about. And also, that I did a 50 page Powerpoint in 15 hours for a 1 day deadline.

There's a really good side

2008-05-27T07:32:00.002-04:00

to now and the way I am. I was thinking about this need for instant gratification I have -- something I mentioned yesterday in the word "spontaneity" and I was thinking about it last night as I was searching around the Internet.

For all my complaining about boundaries and not being able to do what I want to do spontaneously and instantly, here's a really good thing about now: The Internet. When the kids went to bed last night, I was looking around the Internet at anything I thought of. I looked for shoe pads for Colin, then I read about this story about a pilot and his girlfriend getting "caught" in the woods, then I followed up on the story about the Austrian that kept his daughter captive for 24 years, then I checked myspace, then I looked up a word in the dictionary...on and on it went and I realized that on the Internet, me as a "wife" and a "mother" offers no boundaries with where I can go or what I can do. I should shut up and count my blessings. I have a whole playground here with no restriction.

Yesterday was fun. Emmett, Mike, Ethan and I spent time outside in the front yard taking care of our tree. I played the Polyphonic Spree (much to the despair of my punk rock neighbors) and Emmett and I were dressed exactly alike (skeleton shirt with camo pants and I was wearing a camo shirt). Then, Phineas drove by and he came over and played. Mike and I cleaned up and we had a BBQ with Colin, Jess and Phil. It was awesome. The whole day. I totally enjoyed it and slowly but surely, my sadness about not being at the shore went away.

Other Things Going On:

1. The Christening - This Sunday. It's a big deal. About 70 people are coming. My friend R* is making the cake. We're having a bar. There's lots of good food, drinks -- everything. It's a bigger celebration than Emmett's and that's because this is a completely cathartic event for me. All my worry about Ethan's health...9 months of depression...all of it is in this celebration. My son is healthy. He's okay. He's normal. And this is (secretly) also a celebration of this.

2. Living Room Clothing - Our first order of t-shirts (1,000 pcs.) are sized wrong. This is extremely depressing for us. But, I'm just going to keep going. We have a photoshoot with Carina and I am in love with her photos. We've scheduled this for July. The business plan is almost done. The design side is going forward (we met with Josh). I have forms ready. I understand my audiences. It's all coming together.

3. Current Client - Ask me about this

4. New Client - I had an interview with a new client. It went well, but they asked me to come down on my rate. I thought about it and decided I would do it because it's 10-20 hours a week, steady work. Then, they asked me to write a spec. Keep in mind, at this stage of the game I have some pride. I said no.

5. DE Trip - We went on a trip to Delaware to a flea market and to check out a bizzare restaurant boat. It was like this boat in the middle of a parking lot, sort of delapidated and abandoned. My friend is thinking about buying it. While we were there, a truck pulled up and inside were two Mexican men. I asked them if they were thinking about buying the boat and they looked at me like I was crazy. They said they were waiting for it to open. I saw them later there still and we all knew there was something really fishy going on. The trip was fun. It turned into an all day event and I got to see my old friend Butch, which was awesome. I really miss going on road trips.

And now, a story.
The other day, I took Emmett and his friend Z* to South STreet to get free ice cream (Haggen Daaz was having a special) and the four of us (Ethan, Emmett, Z* and I) trecked down there on the bus. We got off the bus and this friendly looking black lady was pacing, singing praises to God like "Halleluigh" with her ear phones on. She was just kind of standing on the corner, I guess, waiting for a different bus. She said hello to us and I said hi. And she was saying how cute the kids were etc. Then she started saying over and over again "Just don't give up. Just don't give up" and she looked at me and said "Don't give up" and then said: "Do you like wheat bread?" and I said "Yes" and she said "I have this loaf of really thick,nice wheat bread. Would you like to have it?" and I said "Sure. You don't want it anymore"? and she said "No, I just feel like I should give it to you. God is giving it to you". And she gave me the bread and said "Just don't give up" and walked to the wall and put her head down, as if the lights on the stage dimmed her out of view. Like she was an angel that disapeared, but she didn't disappear. She was standing against the wall with her head down. And so, I called Mike and told him and said "What's going to happen that these words "Don't give up" are going to come into play. Of course I believe in these things. Of course I believe in that message. And less than a week later, I found myself leaning on her and leaning on those words. Because even though I wrote about it briefly above, having a thousand t-shirts in the wrong sizes is devestating to me and caused some serious sadness. But I kept thinking about the lady with the bread and that's what has gotten me through it.

I'm sort of depressed today.

2008-05-26T11:53:00.003-04:00

Spring brings out passion in me and I can't satisfy it. I love spontaneity, getting into a project on a whim, going somewhere for no reason...i love everything about spring in terms of something new. All of my emotions are at their highest mark. All of my excitement is at a peak. I love life in the spring more than any other time, and it's in a fairy tale kind of way. And being a wife and mother is in direct conflict with what I want to feel and what I want to do.

I endlessly cry on about this, but I am a serious dreamer. Being in a role that's defined by it's boundaries directly conflicts with this nature. I am euphoric when I'm driving alone in the car with the music turned up very loud on my way to something without my family.

I don't think I'll ever be able to resolve this, but for the record, I'm doing my best. It never occurred to me that I wouldn't fit seamlessly into these positions. There's a book somewhere by Sylvia Plath that I remember reading when I was younger and I thought she was horrible, but I understand it all now. I was born free spirited and even though I want boundaries, too many of them make me feel like running. Okay, I'm writing this, but of course everyone knows that more than myself I love my family so it would never happen. I'm just saying I get it.

I wish so much, and I mean this, that I was a normal mother and wife. And if my children ever read this, I'm trying my hardest. I love you both more than anything in the world. I want more than anything for the two of you to be happy, well-adjusted and to love life. I am doing my best. I'm trying my best.

I give myself these little presents

2008-05-16T04:20:00.002-04:00

that aren't like real presents, but I think of them as presents. Like, changing the razor after a shower or taping a note to the door or ironing something well in advance of an event. I realize when I do things ahead, they are like presents to my future self. And I find myself doing these things when I think I'm worthy.

Self-love is a weird thing. You're supposed to love yourself, but socially, you're not allowed to do this. You have to put yourself down. You can't be proud of your achievements. You're supposed to submit the proper amount of censorship when it comes to anything you think may make another person jealous.

This is extremely hard for me. I don't feel anyone should be jealous of anything about me ever so if something great happens for me, I want to tell everyone because I'm so excited and so proud. The assumption of jealousy feels condescending to me. I don't want to worry about it.

When you are truly non-competitive and really think another person is great, you're never bragging. You're speaking to them as an equal. The people you censor yourself to are the people you handle with kid gloves because you feel like "they're not doing as well. This could upset them".

In my situation, there is pretty much no one I'm close to that I don't think is "doing as well" as me. My achievements and excitements are paralleled to theirs, sometimes in a different way, but I always think they're parallel. I wish society could shake this comparison thing and that everyone would realize that they can do what they want to do -- it just takes work. No one is better. When people are healthy and do things to their maximum potential, everyone is equal.

I'm thinking about this because I'm thinking about these presents I give to myself. I do it because I'm trying to make myself happy in the future. And sometimes something as simple as an outfit laid out the night before does just that. And is it all rooted in self-love? I think it is. But going forward with that thought, I do love parts of myself immensely. I wouldn't want to be someone else. BUT, there are things I don't like about myself. And that's why these little gifts are not daily.

My dear, darling

2008-05-14T07:03:00.004-04:00

Emmett. Two beautiful things happened yesterday that I never want to forget.

Story Number 1. Emmett my little light.

Emmett's preschool teacher, Ms. Tannie, came up to me after school and said "Elisabeth, I want to tell you what happened with Emmett today. He came up to me and said Ms. Tannie, I don't know what to do. My friend Phineas doesn't believe in Jesus and when I told him about Jesus, he said that Jesus was silly". Ms. Tannie said "Emmett, you've done your part. In the Bible it says to tell people about Jesus and you did that. Now what you can do for Phineas is just pray".

The backstory to this is that I heard the whole conversation. Emmett and Phineas were behind the couch and I crouched down so they wouldn't see me. Here's the real conversation:

E- "Phineas, I wish you would believe in Jesus and I pray for you that you will."

P- "I don't believe in that. I think it is just silly".

E- "NO Phineas. It's not silly. Jesus loves you very much and you will go to Heaven if you believe in Him".

P-"Well i don't know. I think Jesus is kind of silly".

E-"NO Phineas,He's not. He's not silly at all. And maybe when you grow up you will believe in Him and I will keep praying for you".

(silence)

P-"Okay Emmett. But can we play now"?

E-"Okay".

And they started playing without any problem at all.

My darling, sweet little boy. His gentleness and conviction is something I am awed by. I adore Emmett. And he is a strong, strong Christian. I remember the day he told me that he was.

Story Number 2. Emmett my little defender.

Emmett and his friend were here and I play this game with them. I tell them they LOVE something (that they'd otherwise be indifferent to) and they tell me they hate it. Usually, it's about my dress. I'll say "You love my dress" and they'll say "We hate your dress!" and I say "You love my dress so much you want to marry it" and they'll say "No, We hate your dress so much!" and it will go on and on, with me "misunderstanding" them.

Well, yesterday I decided to switch it up to my singing voice. I started singing very loudly in bad opera style saying "You love my voice" and they said "No! We hate your voice". And I sang louder and said "You love my voice so much you wish you could take a picture of it and hang it on your wall" and they said "No! No! We can't stand your voice". It went on for about two minutes and Emmett's friend whispered something to Emmett and told him to tell me what it was.

Emmett said "We don't love your voice and we are making fun of you".

Now let me interject here, that I am keenly aware that Emmett and his friend are the cool kids at school and, for a brief second, I felt ganged up on and like how a picked-on kid might feel. But it lasted about 1 second. There was a second though that I did feel that way.

Emmett's friend yelled "We don't love your voice" and Ethan got scared because of the loud sound. I said "Okay guys. I think Ethan's getting upset" but just as I said that, Ethan started smiling. So I said "Well, I guess he's not upset" and Emmett said "Mommy, I'm upset" and his eyes were full of tears.

I said "Okay Emmett, come into the living room and let's talk. And he followed me in and I said. "Are you upset because you were making fun of my voice"? and my baby, my sweet little boy full of tears said "Yes. I don't want to make fun of you". I hugged him, fighting back my own tears and said "Emmett, what you are saying feels good to my heart". We went back to the kitchen and his friend said "Emmett, what happened? Why were you crying?" and Emmett said "Because I don't want to make fun of my mommy" and his friend said "I don't like that game either".

I had the best mother's day!

2008-05-12T07:44:00.002-04:00

At about 10am yesterday and Mike and Emmett went into the basement for about 15 minutes and came up. Emmett ran over to me with a little bouquet of daisies and baby's breath. And behind him was Mike holding a big bouquet of daisies and orange Gerber daisies. And Emmett said "Here Mommy. Look. Here are some presents". And Emmett helped to wrap all his presents for me. A glass magnet, a beautiful little bag, a hair band and a bar of soap. And he made me a beautiful little card that said "I love you". Later, we went through all the presents. He unwrapped them from the plastic and had me put them out, telling me the benefits of each.

Mike gave me 2 boxes and told me to pick one. Both had beautiful, beautiful Anthropolgie clothes. The first box had a brown tank top with an earthy, 70's style color rainbow around the shoulders and a super cool red skirt that's not too old or too young. The second box had a beautiful, beautiful red and cream Lithe dress. I love them both.

We got ready and I asked if they would all be willing to wear the same shirt as me and Mike (reluctantly) said okay, and we went to lunch at a cafe having a special Mother's Day luncheon. It was wonderful. On the table was a caraffe of coffee and fresh squeezed orange juice. I got an omelette with spinach and goatcheese a mixed greens salad and desert.

It was a total blessing for me. I've written this before and I'll write it again. Mother's Day means more to me than my birthday and this has been the best ever. I feel totally blessed and loved.

I wonder how much it would change me

2008-05-06T04:22:00.002-04:00

if I went back into the corporate world. I got a call today from a headhunter asking me for my salary requirements. Then I got an email from a company looking to hire a copywriter. It's been 7 years since I worked full-time at a company. The last one I worked at was Comcast.

The main reason I left Comcast and never went back, was because I didn't like the person I was becoming. I was extremely caught up in my career and loved being part of a city landscape during lunch. I loved being all obsessed with nice restaurants, happy hours, and (physically) walking in a corporate way. I loved shopping at Banana Republic daily. I loved paying full price for things, and not even caring. If I wanted anything, I just bought it.

But, I didn't love the loss of creativity. Comcast had all of me and all of my creativity. I became safe in my tastes to the point that I wanted our Christmas tree to look like the one in Macy's.

Despite myself, I became aware of a certain superiority I felt and decided that I had to stop myself. All this in addition to an amount of stress that caused me to have sweaty palms at all times and created conversation with Mike that related only to work. So, when we moved to LA, I decided not to look back and to be freelance exclusively.

It was a good decision, because by the time we had Emmett, there was no "decision" to make. Although, ironically enough, when I first got pregnant (before you could tell), I decided to apply for a job, which I got, and it was hard to say no to it because it paid well. But I had no choice. We were moving back to Philly to have our baby.

I'm rambling on here, because all day yesterday I was thinking about going back into the working world and my heart started pounding and I felt so excited and thought, we could be okay financially again...and I miss getting dressed that way...and I miss walking to work...and I miss writing for good companies. I miss it all. I'm really, really good at being corporate, and I miss it.

So I stopped last night and examined myself, I realized that it would all happen again. I would be so caught up in it. I would be so into it. I would love it and hate it. My world would be that. Despite it, I'm buyable. At a certain salary, I would do it, even though it's all true. I think some lessons you just have to re-learn a few times.

My latest design

2008-05-02T08:48:00.002-04:00

I'm posting these because it's showing my Indesign progress and I want to be able to look back on it. There are details that will change on these, but it's the basic idea.
Next class...Web Design 1.

My kids are

2008-04-30T19:50:00.002-04:00

so incredibly cute, I am amazed. Emmett is the apple of my eye. He prides himself on being good. He just wants everyone to be happy. He's laid back. He's gentle. He's artistic. He makes up these fantastic little stories. He's obedient and I think he is the coolest, cutest little boy ever. I love it that he loves skaters. The other day he saw a kid on a skateboard and said (loudly and excitedly) "Look Momma! A real live skater!!" I taught him that we support Obama. Today I was on the phone with my dad talking about Obama and he ran in and said (with great enthusiasm) "Mommy! Did Obama win?!" He also informed me today he doesn't like his hair style and wants a mohawk, because "Wouldn't that be cool Mommy?" and I told him that I like his hair the way it is. Today, Emmett picked out his shirt. He loves green.

Ethan is 100% boy and melts my heart. There is nothing he can do that is not cute, including throwing up. He is messy, non-demanding, and smiles all day at everyone. He won't let go if he's holding your hand. He loves playing games. We play this one game where he bites my nose and I immediately bite his tummy and say "You got me!". I have a whole different style for Ethan than for Emmett. Ethan's look is sort of Japanese -- like a layered slightly clashing style. I have a lot of neutral solids for him, but I'm not liking them as much lately. I'm into louder patterns for Ethan -- things I would never put Emmett in. I can tell already that Ethan is very much less sensitive than I am, but I also think he'll look more like me. Or maybe not. Who knows. Ethan is just sort of easy going. He's very trusting.

I adore these children. I can't believe they are mine. I wish I had the attention span to savor every minute, but I find myself struggling with trying to build a life and keep things in order and putting them off -- engaging them in activities that don't require me.

But then, I have a sleep issue. I'm working on our business plan and have been waking up at 4am every morning. It's like my body is operating on the least amount of sleep possible to enable me to wake up early. I have 3 hours that I can do this with.

I love my children. I love them more than anything I can possibly describe. Even when they are frustrating me, I still love them. I've never felt anything like this before. And tonight, they are especially cute. Emmett my little scholar is informing Mike that "Our lamp is cracked a little. See where I'm pointing? You see?" This is right after asking the definition of "taking advantage of" and calling me on not telling someone something (that it is wrong for me to keep a secret). He also prays three times a day for the men that live on the train tracks and asked if we could buy them a house. Or, just have them over to take a shower so they'd be all clean.

And Ethan -- my heart pounds when he wakes up in the morning. When I look into his crib and he smiles, I feel something I can only describe as infatuation. I adore him. I kiss and hug him constantly. When he reaches for me, I melt inside. Like how, God, did you give this to me. I don't deserve these perfect and amazing children.

Christos anesti.

2008-04-27T07:49:00.004-04:00

For the past 5 years, I've been celebrating Orthodox Easter, which is happening today. In the Orthodox view, this is by far the most important holiday. There is a month long vegan fast that predesses it, and at midnight before it ends, a huge church service and feast. It's a celebration that feels as exciting as Christmas. And today, for the first time ever, I feel like THIS is the real Easter (not the American one).

If you think about it and you believe it, this is the most important day of the year.

Christ has risen. Christos anesti.

Yes - even more than I love bill,

2008-04-25T11:43:00.003-04:00

I love Obama. I love it that he hates the system the way it is. I love it that he's young. I love it that he's black. I love it that he is white. I love that he has hope. I love his logo on his campaign. I love that he wants to give $4,000 back to every student that gives community service. I love that he defends his preacher. I love that he doesn't mudsling Hillary. I love that he's not radical. I TRUST this man, more than I've trusted any politician. I loved Bill, but you know what? I just really liked his personality and that was enough. With Obama, I actually trust him. I believe in him. He's corporate enough to navigate through an old system. He's strong enough to say no. He's young enough to have hope.

I am not punk rock

2008-04-20T18:52:00.004-04:00

I never have been and I never will be. I hate the attitude. I hate the work ethic. I hate the drugs and the alcohol. Despite this, during a lot of my younger years, I gravitated to that group more than what should have been my own "style" group (hippie).

Now before I write this, let me tell you I am angry. I'm really, really angry. So now that's out of the way. Here I go.

I started listening to the music when I was in 8th grade, but I didn't even know what it was. Then, when I was 16, I developed a few friendships on the boardwalk in Ocean City within this punk rock group. I didn't really understand it, but I liked the style and thought this was a cool group. I remember sitting under the pavilion one night where these kids sat and one punk rock girl rushing another one. The girl that was pushed said "What are you doing" and the other girl said "F.U. It's punk rock" and I looked at that girl and said "You are so lame" and got up and walked away. I didn't really realize it, but what she was saying was true.

Then in college, there was this strange mix of people that I hung around with, but a lot of them were punk rock. I didn't notice anything "mean", but when I think about it really, there were some mean things. The truth is, by that time, I was pretty mean too despite my peace loving, 70's style. (I progressed from late 60's to early 70's by college).

This brings us to now. I still have these punk rock friends and over the past two weekends, I finally FINALLY get it. And I am so angry at two of my "punk rock" friends who continue to shock me with their rudeness, disregard for my life, immaturity and selfishness. I was talking to Mike and he said "Well Elisabeth. It's just kind of punk rock". Here's what I saw of this culture I'm beginning to hate.

1. Selfishness. Not worrying if you can't find someone. Not worrying if you think they're dead. Not trying to stop a 35 year old man from huffing kitchen cleaning chemicals at a party. Not looking on the ground even though you think he fell two stories over a fence from being so messed up.

2. Rudeness. Making fun of anyone and anything for any reason. This includes saying things to a 4 year old like "Mommy, wipe me".

3. Embracing Immaturity. Using words that "that's retarded" or "you're so gay" or "You're acting like a f***#$ retard Elisabeth".

4. Talking about gross things. This includes and is centered around potty humor including telling a group of other punks that the reason "Elisabeth isn't here is probably because she had to take a dump".

5. Disrespect for God. Including making up things that aren't in the Bible (i.e. that the Bible says the world is 5,000 years old) and refusing to look it up or to believe me, because I don't know anything.

6. Being rude. Not saying thank you to the person that made you 3 VERSIONS of stickers within 3 days of your request. And when there was a problem with the printer sending the stickers back late, broadcasting that your friend does everything slow and saying "Elisabeth, I don't want them. Send them back".

So here it is for real. I have these two friends and I am so angry at them right now. I'm angry at them for being those things. I'm angry at them for being takers, moochers, disregarding me and who I am and what I am. I'm mad at them for being racy around my children and making fun of my family. Last night I started thinking about it and realized THIS is punk rock. THIS is what they are and what they'll always be. And for me to expect more is not possible. They are losers. And I know they love me, but it's really not enough. I hate this culture and I'm done wasting time.

i've never

2008-04-17T20:15:00.003-04:00

loved a candidate more.

Projects. I'm doing so many

2008-04-16T05:56:00.010-04:00

things right now. Here is a quick list of things I just finished or am working on:

1. Freelance Client: I've been working on a business summary tirelessly. At this poiint, it's 27 pages with about 30 had a meeting yesterday based on a 27 page document that I was bringing two copies of. And the printer broke.

2. Circle Thrift Flyers: These were fun and I got to use Indesign. I made 8 large, 8 medium and 4 small all in the same campaign. Keep an eye out for them. Some have a "Donate Message" in green and some have a "Buy" message in yellow. I am proud of these because the fonts took a long time to make like that and I think they look really cool when they're all together. Maybe I'll post them all sometime later this week.

3. Ethan's Baptism Invitations: Believe it or not, this was a project. I've been working with Audrey, but it's taken awhile to figure it out. In the end, we came up with pool blue background, khaki text, a greek cross and stone lettering.

4. Monster Tantrum Business Cards: Emmett's t-shirt business. We just have to make the site. I really want to post this, but I have to find it. His drawing is so cute.Update. I added a photo, but this isn't the actual final design. I just threw something together so I could get Emmett's drawing up there. The real one has the web address and email.

5. St. George Festival Advertising: Every year we do the St. George festival magazine and the advertising associated with it. Here's a part of one of the ads I made up for them. This ad is kind of ugly and just for the bulletin, but I'm putting it up because I put a picutre of Ethan in it.

6. Living Room Clothing: We met with one of our vendors yesterday and talked about some stuff we want to do in the future. It was an awesome meeting. We made the right choice. We now have organic black & white shirts. By June, we should also have colors.

7. Kat Klix Stickers: Done a few weeks ago, but just arrived yesterday. I made three designs and they went with the one I liked the least. I am very curious to do a poll on which of these you like. Keep in mind, I was limited to a "Dollar" theme, so I had to go in that direction.

When I was little, I was so embarassed

2008-04-07T07:26:00.003-04:00

of the following:

1. Being Greek, because I thought Greeks were weird and unattractive
2. Wearing thrift shop clothes
3. Not going to Catholic School after school (CCD)
4. Not being allowed to go trick-or-treating or sing the Halloween songs at school
5. Not having a TV
6. That my parents listened to classical music
7. That we lived in a weird house on a hill
8. That we were not allowed to play with certain kids on our street
9. That my dad would get so angry at my friends
10. That we weren't allowed to listen to non Christian music

Now that I'm older, I'm so not embarrassed of some of these things. In fact, I'm proud to have been raised in an environment that was so focused on protecting us from our horrific environment. So this post is to say Thank You Mom and Dad for marrying Greek, because I love my heritage and I think any pure mix is more beautiful. Thank you for being cool and dressing us in thrift shop clothes long before it was in style. Thank you for not being Catholic, because I would not be religious if we were. Thank you for being so involved in our upbringing, that you took the safe road with Halloween and tried so hard to make it just as fun for us with going to the shore and hiding candy all around Uncle Nick's house. Thank you for loving classical music, and blasting it in the car because, even though I didn't think it was cool at the time, I know it added to my own sense of culture.

Thank you for not having a TV because you were ahead of your time and all of our creativity was developed very young to counterbalance this. And one more note on that -- thank you especially mom for not having a TV because you were the one that had to deal with two little girls full time, and I know that I use the TV as a distraction when I really need one. Thank you for picking the weirdest house in Upper Darby. It had space and you made it like a museum with sculptures and plants -- even though it was haunted, that was my favorite house and I miss it. And even though it was hard for you guys, thank you for not letting us play with Bobby and Denise. Bobby molested the boy next door and went to jail, and Denise got pregnant in 9th grade. Both of them ended up being into drugs. I don't know how you could see they were both so bad, but you were right. Thank you for doing that. How hard it must have been to deal with two, crying, demanding little girls that didn't understand. Dad...I am not happy that you used to get mad at my friends, but I understand it now. I get that you were not a kid person. I get that we were irritating. I know that our lives were hard then...so thank you for keeping that from us. We didn't know we were poor. We didn't know there were problems. If you got angry at us sometimes, I forgive you, because it was a lesser show of reality. And about the non-Christian music. Well, thank you for letting me listen to Amy Grant. And the truth is, when it was time and I just turned on 98 WCAUFM that morning when I was 13 years old and just listened to it all day, thank you for letting me do it and not making me shut it off. It was time for me to move into that world and you allowed it.

In the end, I'm still off, but that has a great deal to do with the natural way that our family is and its something I've learned to embrace. You never taught us that being "the same" was right. You always made it cool that we were weird. You promoted us as "The Munsters" and made it seem like a cool thing. You told us we were artists. You told us we were creative. You encouraged us to dye our hair. You encouraged us to get into offbeat things. How lucky I am. How proud I am. I'm an oddball that came from a family that loved it. I grew up in a family that encouraged out of the box thinking and strange ways of looking at life. I grew up with a dad that did artistic things at the JC Penny portrait studio...and with a Mom that drew me when I was 6 years old.

For all the times I yelled about everything, I'm sorry. All of my creative confidence...everything I am is a result of the support, love and encouragement of my parents.

Thank You.

I miss beth.

2008-04-06T20:42:00.004-04:00

I miss her so much. I took a nap this afternoon and I dreamed about moving to New Mexico near her, and in my dream, we lived in a very uncomfortable house with low ceilings and I felt very detached from everything. But all day today, I've been thinking of her...wishing she lived in Philly again. Lamenting the loss of the mom I felt completely uninhibited around. If she had stayed, I'm convinced Beth would have become one of my closest friends. Here she is: http://www.ehaidle.com/ She also writes Comicosmos. And the book photo is a book she has on Amazon.

As always, so much is happening and I want to write some things down for my own archival sake.

My Kids
Ethan: Ethan continues to produce feelings in me I can't believe I can experience. My heart leaps when he smiles at me. I feel love so strong, when I hug him I'm actually squeezing him. I love holding him. I love his smile and his utter "maleness" that's evident even as a baby. He is a BOY from the start, with this boyish personality that involves a brute strength and simple (but demanding) view of things he wants. I am worried because the back of his head is still flat and I keep imagining this boy I went to highschool with that had a very flat head.

Emmett: He is so incredibly sensitive, slow, intelligent and unusual. He sees things (in clouds and puddles) in shapes that I see them. He flips positive space and negative space in forms just like me, and at last, I can say to someone "Doesn't the shape of that mountain look like a solider holding a jacket" and Emmett will say "I see that Mommy...and it looks like the jacket has a hood". Emmett's sensitivity is also like me, but I have a tough skin and a (sometimes) blunt disposition. So a quick flash of frustration is perceived by Emmett and he takes it very personally. And unlike me, Emmett holds his feelings in. To deal with this, I made a sign that's hanging on the fridge that has a picture of Emmett imaginging me angry with the words "Are you mad at me". whenever Emmett thinks I'm mad, he is supposed to give me that picture.

Last night, I had some friends over and found myself endlessly frustrated with them and the way I relate with them. All of them are atheist or agnostic or something, and they think it's a great time to attack my religious beliefs. I let a lot go, but finally, it all came to a head. I said "You love to criticize me. You love to say what you think. You love to attack and assume everything I say is wrong. But you give me no chance to defend myself. You don't care what I actually think." and in a pause, one of them made the serious mistake of asking me what I thought. I looked at them and in a burst said (without even thinking about it) " I think you're all really, really stupid. You don't think there's ANYTHING besides you? You think mankind is the "top"?

And I realized that I believe that anyone that can't (at the very least) UNDERSTAND why people believe there's a higher power of some kind or have some kind of reasoning or belief about how everything works --- ARE stupid in my opinion. It is NATURAL for mankind to seek God. It's been happening since the beginning of time. There is a collective unconscious.

I slept all day today thanks to my awesome husband. I also revisited a site that fascinated me 3 years ago. It's all about the way men think of women. Anyway, it's found here: http://www.intellectualwhores.com/masterladder.html I didn't get as into it this time, but believe there's some merit in what this guy is saying, as unfortunate as it is.

Our t-shirts are on order. I won't say much more than that.
We're Living Room Clothing now.
More later.

i just experienced

2008-03-17T21:55:00.002-04:00

a full meltdown in my house. Ethan screaming. Emmett crying. His friend that was going to sleep over wanting to go home and staring out the window saying "I want my mommy". It was a full explosion all at once and it all happened within 3 minutes of Mike leaving for the store.

I am just totally exhausted.

a minute is all my life will ever allow...

2008-03-17T14:04:00.005-04:00

(some of you will know that reference).

I am amazed that people in South Philly actually exist. YOu see these charactures of that type on shows like Saturday Night Live, and today, when I was walking to school I heard three women talking and it sounded like an over the top spoof. But it was real.

I'm introspective and tired today. I want so much to get things done. My mind goes faster than I can act. My mind goes faster than I can talk even. Sometimes I'll ask someone a question and leave the room feeling that, in the time it takes them to digest the question and answer, I'll be back.

Emmett's friend Nicco is over right now. Here's our week:

Monday: Nicco hangs out and sleeps over. 8:00, Elis meets friend. Elis makes snack for school tomorrow.
Tuesday: Nicco goes home, my parents come over. Elis goes to class at 7. Mike goes to class at 7.
Wednesday: Emmett's friend Phineas comes over at 9. We go to Emmett's Easter show. Phineas sleeps over.
Thursday: Phineas goes home. Emmett's friend Zach comes over (tenatively, have to check)
Friday: Hang out with Emmett's friend Max and/or Alex
Saturday: Emmetts cousins come over. Go to Emmett's other cousin Isaac's birthday. Sleep over at Mike's mom's.
Sunday: Easter at Mike's mom's.

i am exhausted and its barely started.

yesterday i received a gift

2008-03-14T11:44:00.016-04:00

for my birthday.

Wrapped beautifully, with a silky brown bow.

From my husband.

And it's a gift that will keep giving, year after year, as I tell the story of my 35th birthday gift, from my adoring husband. The man that knows me best of all who, unknowingly, has given me a fabulous story.

And here it is:

Yesterday at Ikea

2008-03-09T07:08:00.005-04:00

I walked the whole store, starting at the As-Is and going the "wrong" way. I was going the opposite of all those little arrows they have on the floor. They want you to end at As IS -- but that's where I like to start.

As I was fighting my way through, section after section, I was really thinking about how hard it is to go against the grain. Literally, with every step I took, there was some kind of stammer from the person doing the "right" thing. But the weird thing was, people were getting out of my way for the most part. People were letting me go through. They were just shocked to see me there.

At one point near the end, I was thinking, is it even worth all this? I am fighting the flow like some kind of fish. I can't see as many of the things I want to see and everyone is watching me because I'm the only one walking toward them. It seemed like every single person looked in my cart (and I'm not exaggerating).

It was in the lighting section, while I was looking at the pathetic selection of table lamps that it all made sense. This is how I feel sometimes. And there I was, spending way too long in the lamps because I didn't feel like going back out there. Because I didn't feel like walking against those arrows anymore. Because I was tired of everyone wondering why my cart was filled with piles of fabric. And that's how I feel sometimes in my life. It's not that I'm radical. That would be easy, because when you're radical, your entire group is going against the grain -- and that's your identity. People expect it. When you look like everyone else, and you're doing these little things that aren't normal, people don't get it. You wish you could just start where the arrows start.

I got all my stuff to the register and one of the sales people spotted me immediately. She walked up to me and said "Is all this stuff AS IS"? "Everything except for this jar", I said. And she waited with me in the self checkout line until it was my turn. Then, she rung me up, giving me even better deals than my items were marked, discounting "just because". And I realized that she saw me from a mile away and she "got it". That there ARE other people that shop the store backwards, and she knew it. And it was like she rewarded me for it.

And all night I kept thinking, I have to remember to blog about this. All the times I've written about forgetting my thoughts -- this is an example of one I forced myself to remember.

So like an avalanche, this thought lead to so many other thoughts and a pride in doing it my way. My bill was $41.80. The real price would have been around $150. And the song below (my 'theme' at 27) that's really a spoken word poem, kept going in my head. (Note: Please read it. I tried very hard to find a link to it and have delayed posting this because of it. This poem made up the attitude of my late 20's.)

My IQ

when I was four years old
they tried to test my I.Q.
they showed me a picture
of 3 oranges and a pear
they said,
which one is different?
it does not belong
they taught me different is wrong

but when I was 13 years old
I woke up one morning
thighs covered in blood
like a war
like a warning
that I live in a breakable takeable body
an ever-increasingly valuable body
that a woman had come in the night to replace me
deface me

see,
my body is borrowed
I got it on loan
for the time in between my mom and some maggots
I don't need anyone to hold me
I can hold my own
I got highways for stretchmarks
see where I've grown

I sing sometimes
like my life is at stake
'cause you're only as loud
as the noises you make

I'm learning to laugh as hard
as I can listen
'cause silence
is violence
in women and poor people
if more people were screaming then I could relax
but a good brain ain't diddley
if you don't have the facts

we live in a breakable takeable world
an ever available possible world
and we can make music
like we can make do
genius is in a back beat
backseat to nothing if you're dancing
especially something stupid
like I.Q.

for every lie I unlearn
I learn something new

I sing sometimes for the war that I fight
'cause every tool is a weapon -
if you hold it right.

The dead computer reference

2008-03-04T16:08:00.001-05:00

is because my computer is dead. When I can steal it away, I'm checking email on Mike's. This really, really stinks.

A dead computer. A dead idea.

2008-03-04T06:31:00.002-05:00

It's this weird thing with Mike that we just came to realize. There are somethings that I say to him that he simply doesn't respond to. And I don't even realize he hasn't responded until hours or days later. An example:

Elis: "Mike -- your dad's birthday is next Monday. We need to get him a present."

(silence -- too long for me)

Elis: "Oh, and I want to get portraits taken of Emmett and Ethan, and whatever happened with..."

Then, Sunday, I'll realize that we don't have a present for Mike's dad's birthday and we never actually discussed it. So, I'm thinking, what is happening? I can't get this thing going. And in talking to Mike, the reason is because he's not there. He doesn't have ideas. He doesn't care as much as me. So the idea goes into an abyss. Unless I deal with it now, it won't be dealt with.

So, what is it? It's my effort to get something off my plate in the easiest way possible -- throwing it over to Mike. And based on this acidic conversation I had with my friend, I'm starting to think that, based on my perscribed gender roles, I have no right to get mad about something like this. I'm the one that defined it. I'm the one that has to buy presents. Even for hard people like Mike's dad.

There was a time when I did everything for myself. I was not in any way connected with gender roles and usually took on a masculine position in my female households. (I hooked up the phone wires. I hauled the heavy stuff. I was the one that figured out bills). It was the moving of heavy things that started all this off. That and driving.
I HATE moving heavy things. I was the "helper" with my dad's crazy finds my whole life. I was always helping him lug things up from the car or into the attic. I have permanent muscles from this (seriously) but I hated every minute of it. And driving. I am not into driving. I greatly prefer to look out the window and get into loud music. So, when Mike and I got married, these were my only requests. I don't want to move heavy things. I don't want to drive.

And then, as I got older, an avalanche occurred. I wanted to take more time getting fixed up. I didn't want to go out unless I felt I looked good. I didn't want to do anything that required learning. I didn't feel like learning how to use the VCR. (yes. I'm not kidding. I don't know how to work our stupid VCR). And here I am. The epitome of the primadonna I was feministly against for most of my adult life.

So how can I change it, I keep thinking. I am so in this pattern. Anything uncomfortable to me, Mike will do. I think it starts with painting pictures. The very act of making time, lugging out my supplies, making the painting, washing brushes and putting it all away is a huge pain. And it starts with sorting the basement. He can do it and I'm waiting for him to do it, but why am I not doing it.

I hated much of the feminist I was in college and after -- please don't get me wrong. And I like being into makeup for the first time in my life. BUT, I am an artist, a creator and very capable of things that a man can do (minus lifting heavy things. I am not doing that). So, I have to get back into being a partner and not a wife.

It was after a call

2008-03-01T12:04:00.002-05:00

to my friend that's brutally critical of me that I realized that I've adapted the mentality of a Queen in my marriage. I get so frustrated with Mike for not being a leader...for doing things slowly... And my friend said to me "You're all caught up with these gender roles. If you don't like how Mike does things, do it yourself. You act like this Queen like Mike has to do it, and by no means am I saying he's perfect, but there are a lot of things he can do better than you".

I got off the phone and tried to sort through this pile of stuff we got from my mom's house -- all our stuff in storage from before we moved to LA. And I found my paintings.
And unbeknown to you, I used to paint -- specifically huge paintings. One of them, a lady offered to buy one time. I told her it was $7,000 and she offered 2,500 and I said no -- a huge mistake. I pulled them out and looked at them and realized I still like them, but I wonder how much of that is connected with the woman that wanted to buy it. So I tried to see if they would fit upstairs. They are way too big.

And I found a painting I did that I hated, and I still hate it. I started chopping up the one I hate, cutting out little pieces of it that I liked to see if there was anything salavagable. But I'm so tired, now there's all these remnants of my paintings all over the place. I'm just so so tired.

From watching Misery until 2 in the morning while Mike was out with his friends. From waking up at 5am yesterday because the baby wanted to nurse. From thinking....I get tired from all this thinking. I think far too much about everything and I can't shut it off. I need TV. It's the only thing that works.

My dad's side of the family is extremely energetic. My mom's side is sensitive and thoughtful. I am a mixture. I have a passionate desire to produce, but I have this extreme side of me that thinks about everything non-stop. It's like a goldfish that with every turn, sees something new.

Here are things that I thought or am thinking:
1. I'm a terrible mother
2. I believe in Quantum Physics
3. I get very cold because I'm Greek and belong in a hot climate
4. I'm moved in my career to the point that I won't do certain work
5. Mike and I are both into dealhunting and it's something we didn't realize the whole time we were dating -- even though that's what we were doing half the time.
6. Ethan is not as emotional as Emmett. I think I can tell this already.
7. I love feeling exhillerated
8. This time of having no time will end.
9. There are certain friends that do not read this blog that I feel obligated to hang out with. (I repeat, they do not read this blog or even know I have a blog).
10. I dont' usually wake up cranky.
11. I wonder if we're part of something larger. Like, are we in a cell of something?
12. I hate taxes
13. Why can't people hang paintings outside, like on their fence?
14. I think a person's visually appearance contributes significantly to their personality.
15. I think cooking is a waste of time.
16. I've always wanted to find my pizza stone and now that I have it, it feels like a burden.
17. I don't really enjoy eating unless I'm extremely hungry. Otherwise it's an oral fixation.
18. I think of God in a more Eastern way.
19. I think all these medications may actually be contributing to other health problems.
20. When i was sick, I really thought about someway to manufacture mucus so I could make money from it.
21. When Ethan is sleeping, I don't get enough done.
22. I'm so, so tired.

The secret.

2008-02-08T21:00:00.000-05:00

So here it is. The big secret. Don't get your hopes up too high, because it's not very juicy. it's something I'm struggling with and an admission. It's something I couldn't really talk about before, but I'll explain why.

It has to do with Ethan's birth. I outlined everything that happened. I admitted all the details. But there was something I didn't admit, and it happened when we were in th e Emergency Room on the 2nd day after he was born.

While we were in there, Ethan was shaking a lot. The doctor was gone. Mike had run to get us something to eat. I was in there alone with Ethan experiencing brief moments of not crying, delirous with emotion and inconsolable sadness. It was at that time that I prayed and said "God, I promise....if Ethan is okay...I promise I will stop smoking. I will offer that as a sacrament to you. And I'm asking that you hear this prayer before Ethan's birth and during his development. I'm willing to offer this if Ethan is okay".

And as soon as I said it, I felt the weight of my prayer and realized that it was not like the bargaining I did when I was younger. That this serious and real. And immediately I knew that in the best case scenario, I had committed myself to quitting smoking, whether Ethan's myclonic shakes had turned out to be something "normal" or not. Because within my prayer, I addressed the whole idea, promising this regardless of the details in the end and if I felt like God had actually done anything. I made a bargain. If Ethan was okay, I would fully quit smoking.

Now keep in mind that I hadn't fully quit smoking. I was barely smoking at that point, but it was something I hadn't stopped doing and during the time that he was in the hospital, I started smoking more than I had been because I was a mess.

We got home and everything was supposedly okay. It was with great relief, but I felt the heavy burden of responsibility to quit smoking. And suddenly, I felt this...You must quit smoking by this weekend or I will take your child away from you.

I WAS DEVASTATED. I was uncontrollably upset and for obvious reason, but I kept it to myself until Saturday...and that day, through an avalanche of tears and my own kind of shaking, I told Mike what I had felt. Because honestly, what could I do? It didn't matter if it seemed right or fair to me. I was the one burdened with the thought. I had made a bargain with God and that's what I heard. And Mike disputing that feeling (which of course he did) offered little calm. There was still some chance that what I'd felt was real and it was all my responsibility. On Sunday, I called my Mom.

My mother listened to the entire story completely silent. She's the only one that can fully understand my history of spiritual experiences, and although this one was different, i knew she would understand why I would take it so seriously. And when I was done talking, she very simply said that she did believe that i needed to quit smoking, but she did not believe that this was the time. She said that she felt that I had been through too much emotionally and that, given a previous history of serious post-pardum depression, that I should wait. She asked me if I had prayed to God for help and I told her no...I had begun avoiding God. That I was afraid of God. That I wasn't talking to God because I didn't want to deal with it. And she said that it didn't sound like something God would do because ultimately, it was making me far away. I accepted what my mother said.

I talked to Ana about it. Ana said that she agreed with my mother, but felt strongly that God taking my baby away from me could easily mean me leaving my child. In other words, why was I so convinced it was Ethan that would die? This made incredible sense to me.

I talked to Jessica about it and Jessica confirmed what my mother had said in terms of my mental health, but it was hard for her. She said she felt it was important that I quit smoking, but that she felt emotionally, the transition would be very rough.

So that's what I did. I prayed a little to God and explained that I was not strong enough to do it immediately, and that I wasn't even sure if he'd said those things anyway, and that I needed to get through these myclonic shakes...Ethan's sickness...Emmett's transition...and my own trasition. That I needed to balance emotionally, because (for me) what I'd been through was fear to euphoria to devestation in a very short amount of time. But I promised to make good on my bargain and thanked him for anything I couldn't understand about what happened.

It's been a secret because in my admission here, I'm saying that now I know it's time. Ethan is totally healthy. I managed to skip depression. I have to honor this commitment I made. And I'm scared.

Not for close minded people.

2008-02-07T10:20:00.000-05:00

I am so upset right now, I (literally) feel like I'm going to throw up. This is why..THIS is why I hate politics and I don't get involved.

I just forced Mike into an hour long discussion of my disillusionment with our time. WILL THE NEXT REVOLUTIONARY PLEASE STAND UP!! And by revolutionary, I don't mean someone that's going to do a little on health care. I mean the next person that can see that we live in a sheep to the fold society and people follow whatever they're told and DON'T QUESTION AUTHORITY. I'm looking for the person that says "This works", and says it unabashedly to people that are conditioned by their political affiliations to agree or disagree.

Martin Luther King and John F. Kennedy keep coming to my mind as I think that they were dealing with a society of people that didn't think they way they did, and they were able to change ACTUAL THOUGHT, not just bills. They were revolutionary in that they actually changed the way our society viewed right and wrong. And it wasn't about their political views and it wasn't about their extreme situations...It was simply that they made sense and were't afraid to say it to a flock that never thought differently. I want that man. I want that woman. There has been no one in my lifetime that has done that.

I am so sick of following along in a society with politics that haven't been rethought since the 60's. These little tiny, minor changes are cute and pacifying. But there is a thought pattern on both sides (There! I! Said! It!) that lacks questioning. I am so over the Liberal that seems to agree with EVERY Democrat issue. I'm so over the Conserative that seems to agree with EVERY Republican stance. I'm so over people praising our so called revolutionary Michael Moore for literally "preaching to the choir". OF COURSE liberals are against war and guns. It's in their code of conduct. Now convince people to feel or think about something they're not supposed to. I'm over Bill O'Reily critizing gay marriage, singing directly to his mother. OF COURSE Republicans are against gay marriage. It's what they're supposed to think.

I am craving to speaker that brings me to tears. I'm begging the person that will lead us back to questioning authority (and I don't mean authority of the party we're not in). I want a liberal that's questioning the liberals. I want a conservative that's questioning the conservatives. Ideally, I want someone that questions both. So where is this independent, dynamic, likable individual that can acutally make things better and will make people THINK.

And if your pissed at me because this is what I think, it only goes to prove exactly my point.

Bill Clinton was my favorite president

2008-02-07T08:14:00.000-05:00

and he was because I loved the fact that I liked him. I loved his humor. I loved his candidness. I loved it when I quit my job and his plan covered my health care during the transition. I loved that he protected mothers who were pregnant from losing their jobs. I loved the funny videos he made of himself. I was really a fan of Clinton. But I'm a fan of JFK more. In fact, I believe there should be a JFK day. He was so revolutionary in what he was trying to do, that he was shot and killed most likely by his own government. I equate him in my mind to Martin Luther King. Only he could never be so forthright.

WARNING: POLITICAL ISSUES. ABORTION.
Having said that, my mother brought up the abortion issue when I mentioned that I was routing for Obama. I said "Mom. There's been a Republican in the white house for 8 years. What's really changed?" And my mom said "Partial Birth abortion changed".

So, this morning I looked it up. And I tried to find a page not covered in gruesome images, and I did, so I began reading this one .

And actually, partial birth abortion was something changed when Clinton was in office, but he vetoed it. There were enough votes the second round that he couldn't veto it again. And when I glanced at the diagrams (black and white sort of medical drawings) on the left, I shut the page down and realized I couldn't look at it, despite the fact that they're not really offensive comparitively. It's been 15 years since I've allowed myself to think about this issue. And now, I'm stuck.

First, this blog is not meant to cause a debate and everyone should believe what they believe, but if you don't understand what happens during partial birth abortion, please read about it. I don't know why this is a conservative/republican issue. I really believe anyone having any opinion should know what they believe intelligently and should not think in anyway because a party tells them too.

It seems so unfair! Why is it cool to be pro-choice? I just said to Mike "I have to vote for McCain. THIS IS SO UNFAIR. THIS SHOULD BE A LIBERAL ISSUE. LIBERALS ARE AGAINST KILLING. REPUBLICANS SHOULD BE WANTING TO CONTROL THE POPULATION. WHY IS THIS A REPUBLICAN ISSUE!!!" And I wonder sometimes, does everyone actually know what they're talking about? I mean, I can understand if someone is pro-choice for "this many weeks" or for "this kind of procedure" or "In this situation". But there are a lot of people that are pro-choice through the entire 9 months -- across the board. And to those of you reading who understand the details of all of it and still feel pro-choice, we just have a different opinion and I don't feel conflict because of it...because you know what you believe and why. But I know that fthere are other people that are doing exactly what I've done for so long when it comes to this issue. Just not thinking about the details. Avoiding understanding what's actually happening. And this is totally wrong.

I believe in life. Of all kinds. I don't believe in the death penalty. I don't believe in war. And above all, I don't believe abortion is right. AND I AM NOT AFRAID TO SAY IT despite the pro-choicers reading here and depite the fact that this is not a cool stance to take. I don't believe killing of any kind is right ever. Having said that, I am still more moderate. Things like The Day After Pill seem a lot less bad to me than other things. I really should make that Liberals Against Abortion website I always thought I should make.

As a mother that ADORES my 3 month old, I am totally distressed. I don't want to be an issue voter. I really like Obama. I think he is strong, intelligent, capable, intellectual. I believe in him. BUT, I think abortion is so incredibly wrong that someday it will be considered bizzare and unusually cruel. It is this issue (and a few others) that keep me dreaming of the Independent that will rise up from the ashes and will just do what he or she thinks is right, rather than what the party tells them to.

I long for the next JFK.

I am feeling better and am realizing

2008-02-06T20:23:00.000-05:00

that weakness is something that's very hard for me. I'm frustrated by myself when I'm tired. I get irritated with Mike if he's sick. But after this bout with the flu, I have learned my lesson. I realize that I'm not a person that gets "sick" often. That my sickness until now has been what some people would call the sniffles. I am sorry Mike for the times I didn't take care of you enough during your illness.

I'm coming out of it. Today I just stayed on the couch and worked on getting well. Emmett went to his friend Zach's house after school it was my final push into "getting back on the mend". So i did some thinking today and watched CNN for a long time:

1. I am officially an Obama fan.
2. I can't stand weakness. This is a serious problem.
3. It seems like my cat no longer feels the need to "get out of the way" if I'm walking up the steps.
4. I think one of the worst ways to die would be drowning.

I also talked to my friend Meredith today. She's one of my mom friends that doesn't live in South Philly, but I sometimes wish she did. She's so easy and accepting, yet brilliant and introspective. And I look at her and all the other moms I know and realize that I (somehow and despite myself) have managed to make friends with "the best" in the mom world.

I'm going to write about three of these women that I am appreciating right now. One of them doesn't read this blog, but I'm thinking of her fondly and want to include her. As for the other two...you guys are very special to my heart. Thank you for reaching out and being there for me.

In a stream of consciousness way, here are my thoughts on R*, S* and M*:

R*: Gentle. Peaceful. Always talks slowly. Nonjudgmental and can bond with you at a moment's notice. Emotionally in touch, but never frantic. Calm and collected. Laid back. Together. An excellent listener. Beautiful. Honest.

S*: Striking -- adorable when casual and magnificent dressed up. Genuinely sweet and good natured. Sincere. A very aware mother. Has an engaging laugh. Gentle. Kind. Thoughtful. Calm. A role model.

M*: Intelligent. Sophisticated. Quirky in a very cool way. Smart. Fashionable. Clever. Urban. Intellectual and diplomatic. Refined taste. Can get very deep. Can dwell on the positive side.

I am so, so lucky to know great kids with great moms.

I am going to the doctor's

2008-02-04T11:00:00.001-05:00

because I'm sicker than I've been in my entire adult life. I think this must be what being sick is like, and I've just been spared. I thinjk I have the flu. eberything is foggy, but I can't sleep. My legs hurt. I'm sneeing uncontrollably. My sense of time is off (an hour feels like it's about 3 hours). I am shivering and then hot. My head hurts. My vision is blurry.

It's 9:53 and

2008-02-03T21:52:00.000-05:00

Emmett is at my parents house. About 10 minutes ago, he called and said "Mommy, I want to come home" and I said no problem and tried to make it as simple and as easy as possible. Having said this, I'm sick. Very sick. I've been sleeping and shivering all day adn Mike has been taking care of me. And as happy as I've been to have Emmett not in my "den of sickness", there's something in me that just wants everyone home.

When I was little, I remember one time, being at my grandmother's house, a place I loved going, and suddenly missing my parents and wanting to go home. There was a desperation I felt. I needed to go home. And right now I'm wondering if Emmett feels that way. And if he does, I feel like we're doing something right.

it was the ultimate test

2008-01-28T09:36:00.001-05:00

last night. Within hours of writing that last post, I had to do everything I'd just written about. And right before bed, I felt like I should read the Bible, but I didn't. I did crossword puzzles instead.

At 2 in the morning, Emmett woke up screaming at the top of his lungs, demanding to play. He was completely hysterical, kicking and shaking and unable to stop crying. Mike couldn't do anything, so I got up and got in bed with him and hugged him and whispered to him and tried as hard as I could to go through it with him, realizing of course, that he wasn't crying because he wanted to play exactly, but that that's what he felt. And I sat up with him for about an hour and a half talking. i made him a peanut butter and jelly sandwhich and slept in his bed with him (very uncomfortable for both of us). And when I told him I loved him, he very distinctly (through sobs) said "I love you too".

And I think I would have gotten an A+ on this test if it hadn't been for the second wake up at 4:30 in the morning. He woke me up, told me he couldn't sleep, and asked me if he still couldn't sleep could he go downstairs and play and I was calm and said no. It was when the baby started crying to nurse that I got a little upset. Mike came in and I said "I've been up for 4 hours (not true, it was only 2 and a half). I am so tired. I just want to sleep!" and i got up and went into my room and nursed. Emmett went to sleep in his old room in his old crib and woke up just a second ago, sleeping a little under 8 hours.

I just talked to one of the moms I know who mnade me feel like what I did was the right thing (thank you r.). She talked to me for about 30 minutes. I'm so fearful of the problems. I want so much to be a good mom.

It's easy to forget

2008-01-27T21:47:00.000-05:00

the loving side of being a parent when you're all caught up in an obsessive need to clean and organize and keep things going for everyone and you're trying to run a tight ship and make sure your kids are behaving and that you're disciplining enough when it's something you totally hate doing. And I admit all of you here and now, that I have been failing in this way and something monumental happened over this weekend.

Backup for a second and let me tell you that there have been some markers in Emmett that things are not okay. He's all bottled up and it's taken me two months to see it. It's also taken me two months to realize that my behavior towards Emmett has changed since we brought Ethan home. All of the loving babying that I've given to Emmett was replaced by responsibility. Suddenly I expect Emmett to act older and to do things by himself. I've been expecting him to make choices and to plan things. The age difference between my boys has skewed my understanding of Emmett as a 4 year old.

A mom and her daughter came over for a playdate this week and the mother told me, while trying to get her reluctant daughter to get ready to go, that although she wanted her daughter to obey her, she wanted teach her to question authority when she grew up. And I kept thinking about this.

And I realized that I am teaching Emmett not to question authority. I realized that Emmett is very obediant and when he's not, I discipline him, and I kept thinking about it. And then my friend Laura sent over a list of cute things her son Nicco was doing, and when I had a playdate with her, she asked me about some of the cute things Emmett was doing and I realized, I didn't know. I've become an instructor and have lost the part of me that delights in Emmett's cuteness. So, I called my mom and talked to her about these things. She reminded me of something I know but forgot: Emmett is very, very sensitive. He doesn't like yelling and cannot handle anyone being mad at him. She said that while he was there, he prayed to God that Mike and I would stop fighting.

I was stunned. Mike and I don't fight very much anymore, but it put up all kinds of red lights in me. That something is wrong. Emmett is praying about anger, and I became frantically worried.

When he came home, I sat him down and told Emmett that I wanted to have a serious talk with him. I asked him if he thought I loved him and he said no. I asked him if he thought daddy loved him and he said no. I asked him who he thought I loved and he said Colin and Jessica. So I talked to him asking him lots of questions for about 45 minutes and told him how much I did love him and that if Mike and I were ever arguing in front of him and he couldn't stand it, to take a certain blanket (I showed him which one) and to just throw it into the room, and that we would stop. We had a wonderful night that was full of tickling and laughing and Emmett was the most relaxed I'd seen him in a long time. I knew Emmett felt loved and I realized how complicated children are and that it's my job to figure out that complication and communicate safety and UNCONDITIONAL love in whatever way he can understand it.

And readers and future self, I have felt victory and like there is a light at the end of this dark transition. I am protective of Emmett and know he would not want me to write the details of what happened, but there were three incidents where I reacted to something with love instead of expectation and I REMEMBERED that my role as a mother is FIRST TO LOVE. Instead of trying to correct Emmett, I have been going through things with him. Rather than trying to get us through the transition, I am trying to go through it with him and putting sympathy, empathy and love before anything else. I have an incredible, amazing, talented, obedient and very caring little boy and I must reward his natural desire for acceptance with a lavish of unconditional love. And my heart is heavy and my eyes are all watery as I think about the trust that I'm starting to rebuild with him -- saddened at the word rebuild in this sentence. I continue to fail, but thank God for the people around me because with them, with Mike and with God, I think it will turn out okay.

I deleted my last post because it embarrassed Emmett. I found out he didn't want to wear the sticker to school and that he didn't like wearing it when he got his haircut. He is a private, sensitive person and I need to begin respecting that...even on this blog.

I've got 50 things to do, but I'll get back to you...

2008-01-25T07:21:00.000-05:00

A line from one of the songs on the first record my sister and I ever bought when we suddenly figured out that we were allowed to listen to rock and roll. I was in 8th grade and the album was Eat Your Paisley by the Dead Milkmen. And we knew nothing about music or even punk rock music. We just that the cover looked funny. It was $6.99 on sale, and Audrey and I listened to that album forever. To this day, I think I know almost every word to every song. My parents had NO idea of the radical switch from Amy Grant and they probably would have cared if they'd listened to it. And I'm trying to Google this to a link of the song, but I can't find it because no one really liked that album except for me.

I keep thinking about this blog and how much I want to write in it, but I don't because I can't justify the time, and thoughts keep piling up and then I don't want to write because there's too much to write about,and I just end up forgetting everything anyway. Somehow, all these little "realizations" seem to feel so ultra important to me in a way I can only describe as the importance that my mom hang ALL of my artwork on the refrigerator. Like every little thought means so much.

Things are okay right now...to the point of being pretty good. I'm noticing that this whole elipsis thing (...) has become part of my way of writing and I don't like it. I have a friend that does it and it's become very addicting. I notice he does it at seemingly inappropriate times while writing (times that make no sense). I don't want to become like that.

So, here's a summary of what's up. I'm on a "get the f**K out of the city" kick, because of the school situation. I also wonder if Emmett's stress is connected to the busy way of our lives. Sometimes I think if we moved somewhere without distraction, maybe that would make me a better mom. So Lancaster has become my Eden, and everything seems so perfect there (although I've only been there once in my adult life). Okay, having said that, all of the sudden I'm going through this massive appreciation of everything about living in this city, although I still consider it second rate.

(In my mind I'm thinking, "Stop. Start over. I hate the tone of this post. Are you trying to prove you are underground with the Dead Milkmen part in the beginning? What's with the "f**K" part of the get out of the city paragraph. You don't curse. Are you trying to be edgy?". That's the problem with not blogging regularly. So I state here and now that I was not cool when I was in 8th grade, despite my one cool album, and that I do not curse and that I only referenced that explective because I felt it at that moment, and that my thoughts on Philadelphia as a second rate city are only because I still feel and will always feel that New York is the coolest).

So, I'm going through this massive thing about schools and realized, I force things through the way I want them, and the puny Philadelphia lottery muscle is no match for my will. And if I want Emmett in Meredith, I'll get him in there, so I started the process.

Then suddenly, Mike comes home and informs me that he talked to Uda (if you don't know her, you should meet her) and that we should consider home-schooling. I'm like "Mike, I get mad at Emmett for stamping a card in the wrong place. I get frustrated when he can't remember to start his capital G's at the top, how in the world could I homeschool". I don't really know what Mike is thinking except that Uda thought it would be a good idea and we don't like all this gun talk that's coming home from pre-school. He's into a collective. A Co-op etc. If I look at my sister Ana, she did turn out better than Audrey and I in her temperment (she was homeschooled for a few years), but I remember my mom sort of cheating. Like, cooking dinner was part of homeschooling (Ana can't cook). Or, me teaching Ana to type was part of homeschooling. Or me teaching a class was part of it (I was like 19).

(thoughts going through my head: This is boring! This is boring for anyone that's not you! Official disclaimer: This is for me and I'm sorry if it's boring).

A quick list of thoughts:

1. Emmett is regressing lately. It's definitely connected to the baby. I'm expecting him to be older than he is. I need desperately to work on this. I feel bad for Emmett because before the baby, he was my world. Now, the baby is my world, and I don't lavish the attention that I once did on him. However, Emmett is still my special boy. he's my first-born and I feel like we have a bond that no one can break. I need him to feel this though.

2. My marriage is getting better. To the point that it's pretty good. Mike looks hot to me lately, as he's growing his beard longer and updating his wardrobe. I sometimes think that I would notice him walking down the street if we never met.

3. Ethan is amazing and I'm planning to go to a Le Leche League meeting: It's true. I talked to the leader of it and realize I need the support. I've been nursing wrong for 2 months, and a 45 minute conversation made me feel that 1. Ethan is not starving 2. I have been nursing wrong. Since yesterday, the whole process has improved drastically. I need to go to something like LLL because I need the encouragement to continue and to remember why this is all worth it (the nursing thing).

4. We live a freelance lifestyle. And I'm spontaneous and hate planning things, so this is good. BUT IT'S HARD. I can't plan anything. Mike is "on call for work" 12 hours a day, including weekends. But it's better this way. I wish we didn't have to work. I am a bona-fide Gen X slacker through and through.

5. The t-shirt line is coming back to life. After an AWFUL year with potential name law-suits and two factories that can't seem to sew a basic shirt, we are re-energized by a new identity. We have to sort of start over. We've settled on Living Room Clothing. Please tell me what you think. I know one person that hates the name, but everyone else seems to like it.

6. I'm not back to my pre-pregnancy weight, but I'm getting closer. I can't wait to not care about this anynmore.

7. I am trying to get back into Circle a little and I miss it and I love it, but I still feel connected to the Orthodox faith -- the formality of it...the depth in it. I feel more comfortable with God as a higher being than with Jesus as a friend. I feel more comfortable with respect than with familiarity. I also feel more comfortable with the idea that the Orthodox faith holds "We do not know anything. We only know what we don't know".

8. I miss having housemates But they could never withstand the chaos.

9. I start my 3rd class next week at UArts with my old housemate Phil. It's Indesign. I can't wait, but am worried about our "freelance life" and what will happen if Mike is working.

10. I'm going back to work and am updating my website slowly. I am not actively seeking it, but if it comes, I will work.

Lastly....................................
The secret.
I promise I will tell you. It's hard for me to tell you because it's something I don't want to admit and that I haven't been ready to deal with. Mike knows about it. I told Jessica. I just continue to struggle and know that when I write it, I have to deal with it. It's nothing terrible, but it's something that happened that I'm still wresting with. When I do, the post will only be devoted to that. And I need to write it in the next week.

We took the tree

2008-01-03T09:03:00.000-05:00

down, and it's finally over. In fact, we took it down yesterday. And we took the lights down, and we took the strange little decorations down. And do I dare, during these my first alone moments -- the little bit of free time I have -- write in this blog. But I have to, because even though in many ways I hate writing, I'm a person that cleans out by writing, even if what I'm writing has little to do with the issues I'm feeling.

This has been by far the most difficult Christmas I've ever experienced. Shopping for a list of 40 people, caring for a newborn, hosting my family, and still trying to make it special for Emmett (while trying to convince him that Christmas is not about gifts, but about Jesus' birth) proved to be a monumental task and one that I started the week before my baby was born. Getting "rid" of Christmas was the most exciting thing that's happened in 2 months.

During my blog silence, every single day I had at least one thought I wanted to jot down for archival sake, if nothing else. My thoughts are these quick little realizations, mostly half-baked, explainable like defining a cliche. I doubt I'll remember even 2 of them, but maybe by starting a list some will pop out.

1. Writing Thank You cards actually make me feel organized. After I receive anything or am blessed by anyone, writing the card feels more like a housecleaning.

2. Emmett's really admires Phil more than almost anyone else.

3. When Audrey is home, my personality feels complete. I feel more robust. I can only explain it in this way: When Audrey and I are hanging out (particularly in a group of people) I feel prettier, funnier, sillier and like, as a package, socializing is almost effortless.

There's some desire in me to write everything that happened this Christmas, including a list of gifts, the "hard times", my favorite parts etc. And later, these are the types of lists that are most interesting to me. But I can't do it now. At this moment, my writing is not concise and tight. I'm tired and out of tune with all this. But I better get it together soon because I have an interview with a temp company next week and I told them I can do project-based and part time work. I need to remember my other profession.

So, so many thoughts

2007-11-27T17:05:00.000-05:00

and so little time to write them. My mind is in overdrive. It's probably because I have all this time to think when I'm nursing. It's like I jump started some kind of analysis that's been asleep for awhile.

One of the first impacting thoughts I had was while I was driving down through deep South Philly and I saw this guy in a black oversized hoodie with big sneakers, huddled against the cold, smoking a cigarette and walking by himself...and I felt briefly attracted to him. And for the first time, I felt my old Upper Darby roots. I realized that as sheltered as we were from our surroundings, I still feel a strange attraction to the city guy. The working guy. The guy that's so simple...so unlike me. I get the concept of these cultured women that marry construction workers. There's something about the urbanness...the hopelessness...the gettingbyness of people that live in real neighborhoods that I love. Thank you Upper Darby.

Last night I was watching that show where they build people a new house and realized that we are in a really humanistic time right now, and that I REMEMBER...it wasn't always like this. We came from the "Me" generation. Everything was "if it feels good, do it". "Take good care of yourself, you belong to you..." etc. etc. There wasn't a lot of giving engrained in the culture, and all of the sudden there is and it's reflected in reality TV. They're always "surprising" someone or helping people or giving something away. Then there's the green movement. And the fact that it's cool to help people and do something that means something. I don't remember it being like this when I was younger. I love this era.

The other thing I can remember wanting to write about is that I'm trying to learn not to indulge. That I am an extremist. I put the heat on really hot. I turn the fan to the maximum level. If I'm in a massage chair, I think why would anyone not put it on the highest? Even with my breast pump, I put it on the fastest. If I have chocolate, I eat almost all of it in one day. I am a glutton in a lot of ways, but gluttony seems to kill people. Alcoholism=kidney disease. Smoking=lung cancer. Promiscuity=STDs. Doing anything too much seems to hurt you. I need to learn to be moderate.

The last thing I wanted to address is Ethan and what's happening and why I never said anything before. The truth is, I believe there's a strange sadistic side to humanity where people actually feel something (oddly) positive when something bad happens to another person because it's not happening to THEM, so they feel a strange sense of peace and relief. Not that anyone on this blog is like this, but the truth is, I think it's part of human nature and that no one can help it. I made it a rule during my pregnancy not to talk about any of what was going on. I didn't want anyone to feel sorry for me or to feel separated from me or to say the words "isn't that a shame". I just wanted to be by myself in it.

My friend Chris asked me if Ethan is okay, and I realized that I didn't end my last post well. All my praise and thanks to God...Ethan is perfect. He has no health problems. He doesn't have downs syndrome. He is in perfect health in every way as far as anyone can tell. But I continue to worry about everything with him. The whole thing was so scary, I am extremely cautious about leaving the house with him.

I do have one more thing to tell you all (the secret from my last post) but I'm not ready to tell you. I will soon though. I miss and love all of you. Thank you guys for calling and writing me. Everything is great. The only problem is my fear.

Here's the story

2007-11-19T08:33:00.000-05:00

of my new baby Ethan and some confessions about my pregnancy and his birth.

Today Ethan is exactly 3 weeks old. I love him incredibly, but feel very protective of his health. In fact, unlike Emmett, I protect Ethan like he's a fragile doll. I won't take him outside unless i really have to go somewhere. I am observing (the best I can) the 40 day moratorium of the Orthodox Faith. I feed him whenever he wants. There's a lot that happened with this child, and only a few of you know.

I never wrote about this in my blog, but the last six months of my pregnancy was ruined by something called a Triple Screen Test. It's an optional test but it's presented as routine. They give it because it can be an indicator if there's something wrong with your baby. It tests chemical levels for things like Spina Biffida and Downs Syndrome and a bunch of other things. I didn't take the test with Emmett because I knew I wouldn't get an abortion, but with this baby, I didn't even realize that it was *that* test. I just did everything they said.

About month 4 of my pregnancy, my doctor called to tell me that there was some concern. I'd scored 1 in 91 chance that my baby could be born with Downs Syndrome. The regular odds for my age were 1 in 283. He said it wasn't something to freak out about, but it was something to note. He arranged for me to have a full body ultrascan which would determine the baby's sex and would give us more information about him. The bottom line is that I scored a "positive" because teh chemicals in my body showed a higher chance of downs syndrome.

The full body scan showed no signs of anything, but still, I could not rest about it. I could have opted for an Amnio (which would tell for sure), but it's an invasive prodcedure with a one in 100 chance of hurting the baby or miscarriage. How unfair! 1 in 91 for downsyndrome and to find out, almost the same odds of killing or hurting my baby. I was totally stuck. It is the most unfair position to put a mother in. How awful would i feel getting the amniocentesis if it ended up hurting him? I couldn't do it knowing those odds.

For six months, I was very, very depressed about all of this. When I found about about the test, I started smoking again and for the rest of my pregnancy, never fully gave up, which made me more depressed. I would smoke for a week, quit for a week, smoke a little, quit for 2 days...I was always battling it. My depression led me to want to smoke. When I smoked I got more depressed because I felt like I was hurting my baby. It was a terrible cycle. And I just lived with it. Everytime I had a doctor's appointment I talked about it. There was nothing anyone could say to me. I couldn't accept it. I couldn't deal with it. I was preparing for the worst. A baby born with downs syndrome and damaged from smoking. So what I did was not deal with it. I tried to not be pregnant in a weird way. I tried to absorb myself in other things. There was only a few days (one of which I blogged about) that I felt excited for my baby to be born. The rest of the time, i was arranging the pieces of why it would make sense for God to give me a Downs Syndrome child (make Mike and I closer...as punishment...etc.)

I was technically in labor for two days, i gues, but we didn't know it. On the day he was born, one of the nurses who had seen me previously at an appointment was on duty. Months before I told her about the test and how scared I was. She told me that the same thing happened to her, and I saw pain in her eyes as she recounted her hellish six months. In the end her baby was fine. She couldn't say anything reassuring to me because she knew that nothing she could say would help.

When Ethan was born, no one told us if he was okay. They just whisked him out of my arms and took him over to clean him up. Mike and I were calling "Is he okay" over and over, and that angel nurse came running over to me and said "I remember you from before. Your baby is fine. He's perfect." I cried out six months of worry at that moment, while I was waiting for my baby to come back to me. It was only two weeks before I had Ethan that I was ready to accept that he might be born with a genetic disease, and that acceptance was thanks to my friend Beth Haidle (subscribe to her zine).

We left the recovery room one day after I had him. I couldn't wait to get him home and Emmett was having a preschool play. He was a leaf. Mike's parents (and their big fat divorce-a whole other presence), my parents and Mike's mother's friend all came down to visit the baby and to see Emmett in the play.

After the play, Ethan started shaking in a seizure like way. These violent jolts and jerks that were patterned. Both his hands and feet would punch violently, over and over again, and I could barely wake him up. My mother and Mike's mother were both like "Call the doctor right now. We've never seen anything like this". I grabbed my baby, ran upstairs, Mike called the doctor and I was bawling uncontrollably crying trying to wake him up. He kept jerking...he kept having these seizures. The doctor talked to me and said that this didn't sound normal and to go to CHOP (Children's Hospital of Pennsylvania) immediately. We did. I was uncontrollable in the car. Ethan was doing it more. I was in the back acting like the world was ending. It was for me.
I spent 6 months fearing my child would have Downs Syndrome, and after the intense flood of relief, I was suddenly fearing my child had something even more serious. My reaction was devastation and fear.

We got to CHOP, they took us in immediately. I tried to be composed, but wasn't. WHILE THEY WERE LOOKING AT HIM, he began doing it. They said "Oh, but if you touch his hands, he'll stop, right" and they did it and he didn't stop. "Oh, but he's easy to awaken, right?" and he wasn't. They became very concerned and called the Neurology team. I could see and hear them meeting with the other doctors. They took his blood, they tried to put a catheter in him. HE WAS ONLY TWO DAYS OLD. So in addition to worrying about him, I felt helpless as a mother. All he wanted was peace and to sleep, and the second day of his life was cold, filled with people poking and prodding him and pain (needles).

About 4 of the neurologists came in. They looked at Ethan and talked to us for about 15 minutes. At the end, the lead neurologist (very Hillary Clinton like) said that she could not be sure, but she felt it was something called Myclonic Infant Syndrome, and that it was normal. I started crying with joy. But, she said, that she needed to talk with the other team of physicians to see if there were any additional actions they wanted to take.

For 20 long minutes we waited. I could see the two teams talking outside of my door. And finally, one of the residents came in and explained that the two teams couldn't agree and they'd like us to stay overnight for monitoring. We were devastated, but happy to think about a nicer spot for our baby.

They moved us up to a horrible, horrible place. The crib was in a cage and it was a shared room with an epileptic 4 year old girl that spoke another language and seemed to have torets. She was loud and rammy. There was no place for us to sleep, except for a chair. I just wanted to take my baby home. They were asking me questions and I just burst into tears...EVERY instinct I had as a mother was being challenged. Every fear I had was coming true. And still, my sweet baby, for every moment I held him, was totally at peace. I was the only safe spot for him, but I could tell that there was a fracture in his trust. That, even at 2 days old, my voice was no longer synonymous with total safety; only with a few moments of safety.

Eventually, we got moved to a better location and I got into the crib with Ethan and stayed with him the entire time. He was hooked up to all these monitors. They drew blood several times. Eventually, all these wires were attached to his head...And if there is only one good thing from all of this, it's that I bonded with my baby very, very fast. He knew me and I knew him by the end of that 24 hours, because I went through everything with him.

The next day they told us that they couldn't be sure, but based on their tests everything seemed normal. They'd just wanted to be sure. I was relieved, again crying with complete exhaustion. I can't tell you what this whole thing has been like
.. I can only imagine if something was wrong with my child.

Tomorrow, I'll tell you another secret and something that I've been struggling with for 3 weeks. It's too much to say it all now.

Ethan Michael Garson!

2007-11-02T19:57:00.000-04:00

Born on Tuesday,
10/29/07, at 3:10 in the morning. He weighed 7 lbs 15 ozs, was 21" long and was born in perfect health, after two pushes.

Its moments like these that I feel awestruck by God. I am completely in love with this child, and yet still in love with Emmett. I can't believe I'm capable of this much love. I can't believe I've been blessed with another gentle, sweet child. Thank you so much God.

this could be it

2007-10-24T18:51:00.001-04:00

but who knows. I might be having contractions, but I might not be.
And what a yucky day.

I just spent

2007-10-24T12:05:00.000-04:00

two hours on the phone with the worst company ever -- Brands On Sale. Nothing is going right today. I'm so frustrated.My entire morning was spent doing this rather than doing anything productive. I'm about to go get Emmett from school. But here's a little update.

The baby was due yesterday. I have a doctor's appointment today at 1. I think this baby is late.

Emmett is the cutest and smartest kid ever. I realized yesterday that he's popular. It's easy to identify if your kid is not popular, but it takes awhile to realize that he is popular. Additionally, he's so smart. He has been learning to write his name (I've been teaching him) and this is so much fun. He loves reading and is always "confirming facts" like "Mommy, those flowers will now grow new flowers, right"? (about flowers in a vase. Or "Mommy, when God made the flood, he did it on purpose, so it was okay right"? (that one is a little harder to explain) or "If a kid does something bad and gets a spanking and says he's sorry, then it's okay, right" (We don't spank him...I'm not sure how he knows about that).

I officially state here that Law & Order SVU is the best of them. The other one has the very strange guy on it, and I'm not sure if his mannerisms are working. The female co-part is just worthless.

On Saturday night I dropped off some CD's to my friend's warehouse show and people (mostly punkrock and younger without children) did not know what to make of me. Whenever I walked through the room, they parted like the red sea. I was behind a sound system I didn't know how to work and left early. I was having a good time and the music was okay, but I wanted to leave before Igot exhausted.

The baby's foot is pushing right at the top of my stomach, and it hurts. Tonight is my class (the one I take with Phil) and it has to be the last one before I have this baby. Doesn't it? Emmett was two weeks early. What is going on here. I'm not even packed for the hospital, so maybe it's okay.

The biggest joy for a mom

2007-10-23T10:24:00.000-04:00

is dropping her kid off at preschool an hour late, and when she walks in with her son, seeing 15 faces light up and 15 little voices scream "Emmett!" as if he were Norm -- and to hear your son's adorable little voice say "hi guys" sheepishly, and smile as he sits at the head of the table.

And this is why my husband is so great.

2007-10-22T13:04:00.000-04:00

Email from a few minutes ago.

...I went to the holes in our room to get down the air mattress to put in an under the bed box and they don't seem to fit underneath. I can't physically push it under. Also, there are just these hangers that you've discarded on the floor that I have to force into the baby's room because I don't know what it is. The returns..I'm not sure. They've been hanging there for more than a week with no plans to ever go back.

Mike, I need you to help me live here. I can't have it be that I am here
all day unable to physically lift and carry (although I have started to move things because I feel I have to-- I.E. The humidifier, A laundry basket of various things. In a minute, all the shoes piled at the door that I keep mentioning to you). Nothing seems to be at completion.

Elisabeth

-----

I know things aren't finished. I will run around tonight and tie up all
the quick items. There is still a lot to do, and I am not done.

A list is a great idea. Sometimes I feel that I can't start a big project
and forget that there are little things to do. You can expect some things
to get done tonight. I feel good and refreshed today. Yesterday was a
recovery day.

Love,

Mike

Whine whine whine whine

2007-10-22T12:43:00.000-04:00

I am getting so depressed so fast, it is totally bi-polar. I cannot believe how much I want to cry right now. Everything is tipping me off. I am so frustrated with how slow I am going and how much I feel like I can't do. Everything is heavy. Everything is difficult. Bending down is a major achievement. Everything is in disaster mode, but it's not, but to me it feels like it is. I am starting to wish for the suburban dream.
I got mad at Emmett for going too slow...obviously, something I can't stand that's happening to me...and begged for his forgiveness.
Thank God Emmett's friend is over and they're having a blast playing, disgusing the otherwise obvious frustration in me.

My sister sent a photo over and in one of them, the way she's looking at her husband, with total adoration (which I commonly see in her eyes for him) is something I'm jealous of...really jealous. I feel that she continues to feel infatuated with her husband.

I'm sorry for blabbing on about this, but this is my real life. This is really it. I am a TOTAL FUCK UP. I'm insatiable. I'm overly moody. I can't handle life's basics.

When I was in elementary school,

2007-10-19T09:14:00.000-04:00

a REGULAR report card comment code was "Does not work to potential". I never took it seriously and neither did my parents. We all knew it was true and it's because I was always taking shortcuts. When I type in the term "Does not work to potential" in google images, the photo I included comes up, along with similar ones for different products.

I see my son and husband -- the opposite of me in this way. They work to their potential at everything. The art of a "working shortcut" is something for them to learn, not something they default to. It's taken me 20 years to figure out shortcuts that don't damage, and even now sometimes my speediness causes disaster.

Loving Emmett makes me remember what I love in Mike. Because Emmett is much more like Mike than he is like me. And seeing the adorableness of these traits in my little 4 year old makes me realize why I fell in love with Mike. That for as much as I complain about Mike being slow with things, that there's a depth and an intelligence to "taking it slow" and "enjoying the trip". Emmett is just like him and is always trying to tell me how fast he's going because he hears it come up between Mike and I. But he's just like his dad and I need to encourage this.

So you couple Mike with me and my urgency to complete...my urgency to finish (which does at times produce good results) and there's a solid combination. Mike will do the taxes. Mike will cut perfect business cards. Mike will mathmatically figure out the perfect spacing for a piece of furniture. But I can come up with the ideas fast. I can paint a room quickly. I can clean a house with a timer. All the bitching I do about my speed and his speed...right now I'm realizing that I'm out of my mind.

I'm tired today, but woke up feeling very creative. When I pick Emmett up from school today, we're driving straight to Pearl to get some matted frames and good paper so he can paint pictures that we can frame and hang up in his room. But with Emmett, today when I layout his paints and paper, I know that he'll spend a good 2 hours completing his assignment. He's not trying to "get to the next thing. He's just enjoying things as they happen. There's something to learn from my family.

Today I feel like I want to really spend slow, quality time with Emmett. I know when the baby comes, my attention will be divided. I can't imagine loving anyone as much as I love my boy. And Mike continues to amaze me as he models the perfect husband for support during pregnancy. In the beginning, I felt like I was doing this "alone" and told him that. I asked him to please be in this with me. I asked him to please help me through this and angrily expected nothing. I have to say that he's doing it. It just took me six months to figure it all out. It's important that I credit him here so I don't forget it.

Random Thoughts.

2007-10-18T05:39:00.000-04:00

1. We got new carpets upstairs yesterday and today they're coming to finish the job.
2. Mike took another day off of work because I asked him to.
3. I have to buy Nestle Quick for Emmett's school today.
4. I'm having contractions but ignoring them because today is not a good day for the baby to come.
5. I can't believe I'm admitting to number 4, but I really don't believe this is the day for the baby.
6. The upstairs of our house looks so much better with the new carpets, I can hardly believe it.
7. When I think about a healthy, problem-free baby, I feel excited to give birth. When I think about our baby being unhealthy or having problems, I do not feel excited and feel depressed.
8. I have eaten a lot of meat during this pregnancy, hoping it will help make the baby stronger.
9. Last night at my class, I told the teacher that I might not be there next week because I might have the baby, but I would try to come in anyway since he was so hardcore about us missing class. It was slightly funny, but I was kind of serious.
10. I have something to prove with having this baby. That A) I will lose the weight fast and that B) I will not take a long time to adjust and will continue doing things that I've been doing so I don't go into depression again.
11. I can't wait to be able to roll around with Emmett on the floor again.
12. The carpet installer told me that a great vacuum is this Dirt Devil Breeze Bagless that is sitting in my living room. That he's tried them all. This is something I definitely want to get and am writing it here so I don't forget.
13. It is extremely frustrating not to be able to move quickly.
14. This pregnancy was better than the one with Emmett in terms of depression.
15. I am amazed by my friends and how loyal and loving they are. In the course of one day, Shelley gave me a hug, Chris asked me for advice and then took it and told me I was a genius, Phil picked up my notebook when I dropped it and waited with me after class, Jessica picked me up from class and drove me home.
16. I am now 170 lbs, but still look better than I did with Emmett and gained less weight.
17. The doctor told me it could be today that I have the baby...or next week. Nothing would surprise him.
18. Seph wants me to go to his warehouse show on Saturday and sit behind an office window and hand things out. It feels like a repeat of 3 years ago during Halloween with me, extremely pregnant, greeting people at the front door and them thinking I was in costume -- slightly confused.
19. Emmett has these "slim fit" jeans that when, combined with his messy hair, really make him look extremely hip.
20. Mike is the best husband ever and for once I feel more content than I have in a long time. He is literally taking care of me during this pregnancy. He's given me my vitamin every night. He's gone out in the middle of the night to get me Peptobismal. He listens to every weird detail. BUT, today when the doctor was "checking me out", Mike couldn't look and just sort of slipped to the side and looked at my face. I wonder if he'll watch when the baby comes out. He and I are alike in this way. We don't really think this whole thing is "beautiful" to watch. It's just the way it happens, but we can't force ourselves to call it beautiful or want it on video.
21. We finished this year's festival magazine and it turned out really well.
22. I got scammed by a lo-priced upholstery cleaner. Here's my post: http://philadelphia.citysearch.com/review/44692950
23. I want to go to Babies R Us like I've never wanted to before.
24. Ana basically cleaned out and organized the baby's room
25. I'm starting to like our house and am having ideas.

Everything I do seems like the "last"

2007-10-18T04:53:00.000-04:00

before I have the baby. Last weekend, it was sitting with my friend at his flea market table. "the last time" I thought, I'll be able to pick up and go on a Saturday. This morning feels like my last blog before the baby. Right now is the last morning I'll ever wake up with these aqua blue carpets under my feet. In some weird way I feel like I'm betraying them by having them replaced. They got us through. They did okay. They're not in bad shape. We created a color story with them.

I woke up this morning at 4:30 and I should have tried harder to go back to sleep but I didn't. I want to be awake. I want to be preparing. And there's a strange sadness I'm feeling at the limits on my life, even thought it could probably never be any other way. There will forever be the other side of this hill...what could have been. The things I could have done. The men I could have been with. The things I could have accomplished. Since I wrote here last, this fascination with what didn't happen has been asleep. I'm probably writing today because I woke up at 4:30 this morning thinking about the things I might have missed. And maybe I'm tired and a little poetic this morning, but each thought I have is accompanied by lyrics, so, even though it won't matter to anyone else, I have to write them (even though I hate reading lyrics mixed into thoughts with no explanation), because I thinking somehow they must be saying things I'm not, and that's why they're in my head.

why do you try to hold on
to what you'll never get a hold on
you wouldn't try to put the ocean
in a paper cup

i have had something to prove
as long as i know something
that needs improvement
and you know that everytime i move
i make a woman's movement
and first you decide what you've gotta do
then you go out and do it
and maybe the most that we can do
is just to see each other through it

And I know what all this is connected to, but it's counter productive in many ways to write it all out. On the other side of all of this is my husband, who continues to prove to be amazingly loving, caring, respectful and thoughtful. I haven't mentioned before that he's brought me fresh flowers throughout the pregnancy. He let me pick the carpet. He let me buy a $70 basket rack for the baby's room because I really love it. He's let me sleep for months, expecting nothing from me. He moved our entire office down to the basement, and asked for no help. All he wants is for me to be comfortable.

And you will take the heaviest stuff,
and you will drive the car,
and I'll look out the window and make jokes,
about the way things are.

I've never been to Camden at night,

2007-10-03T08:58:00.000-04:00

but my doctor is part of Cooper University Hospital in Camden, and I had to go to the Emergency room last night, so we went to the one in Camden so everything would process okay with my doctor's office. I was so surprised at the entire experience.

It was a four hour stay in the emergency room -- and I might be under with my time here. It took forever, but thank God, I don't have a blood clot. I have been avoiding dealing with the pain in my right leg for a long time, mainly because it feels like a bruise. But whatever it is doesn't really matter. It's not a blood clot.

First of all, I thought the staff and people waiting would be mostly poor and black -- but they weren't. There was a good (and not tense) mix with both the patients and the staff and I felt like there wasn't the "I don't have to help you if I don't want and how dare you bother me and I will make you wait a few extra minutes because I can" attitude I've experienced in Jefferson. In fact, I expected the service to be like Jefferson, but it was so much better -- it was like we were in the suburbs. Everyone was so great, things moved (relatively) quickly, and we felt like we were being taken care of. Cooper University Hospital is WAY better than Jefferson and even may be better than Penn. Who would think I'd be a fan of a Camden hospital. But I really am.

I followed my OBGYN from Jefferson and in subsequent conversations have learned a lot about the OBGYN crisis in Philadelphia. Dr. Mama (actual name) is the BEST. I have never loved a doctor more than him. Another doctor from Jefferson followed Dr. Mama to Cooper, and they were telling me about how they just couldn't keep good OBGYN's in Philadelphia because of cost and demand. The OBGYNs that are still there seem to be underpaid and overworked.

Today, I have a sore throat, I'm extremely tired and am working on being not dehydrated (which i was last night and which can make you go into preterm labor because it dries up your uterus). Tonight I have class and Emmett has soccer.

Last note, I had to get wheeled around in a wheel chair while I was at Cooper last night. They force you to do it. Every opportunity possible I was getting out of the wheel chair, but they kept making me go back in. I felt like a proud old lady that could "do it herself".

I feel kind of sick

2007-10-02T12:59:00.000-04:00

today. I have a sore throat and my leg hurts and I feel tired, like in a sleep deprived kind of way. I am just telling you all this because I am so tired, I have nothing more interesting to say.

Sometimes I wish

2007-09-28T22:09:00.001-04:00

I could move far away because I'm so embarrassed of things my neighbors may have heard.
I wish that there were (literally) two of me so I could do more.
I wish that I could do everything I think of.
I wish I could remember all my weird little daily realizations so I could write them in this blog.
I wish I had small pores.
I wish my wedding rings were different.
I wish we had a third floor.
I wish I was even emotionally.
I wish I had shaved my head or had dreadlocks at some point in my life.
I wish I'd gotten star tattoos when I was younger.
I wish I didn't feel weird about having sex when I'm pregnant.
I wish I was more regular about getting pedicures.
I wish I could have the time to make mix cds.
I wish I'd ended unresolved relationships before I got married.
I wish I were a perfect wife and mother.
I wish I were a better neighbor and would sweep my steps.
I wish I did not have ADD.
I wish I could be friends with all the people I'm interested in.
I wish I could live in California again.
I wish I could live in New York at least for a little while.
I wish there weren't so many cool things to do in this world.
I wish people didn't have tragic things that happen to them.
I wish that I could play an instrument and be in a band with Mike.
I wish that I could stop time.
I wish that I could go back in the past.
I wish I could really protect Emmett for the rest of his life.
I wish I had computer cleaner for this disgusting monitor with smudges.
I wish we had a warehouse to store the good deals we get, and resell on Ebay.
I wish I wasn't addicted to good smelling, expensive candles.

There's a lot to be said

2007-09-27T10:32:00.000-04:00

about a caring and loving person. Someone that's there through thick and thin and accepts every awful thing about you. There's something to be said for the man that sees you completely disgusting, doing horrible things, and being less than you want to be. The sad part is, the person that loves you the most is the person you feel most comfortable not loving because you know that no matter what, they'll still love you and want to try to make you happy.

I feel like I have continuously taken the person in my life for grantide. Through thick and thin, he has been there for me, by my side, supporting me -- loving me -- trying to help me through. He is like a crutch in my life and I don't acknowledge the importance of his support. I don't realize that the great and happy parts of who I am are a result of the security and love I feel at home. Just like a happy child with a loving family life, I am a happy adult with the same. Mike doesn't question what I'm doing, where I'm going or who I'm with. It's his goal to make me happy, even if it means that I participate in actions that make him feel sad or hurt. These are the things I continue to realize at 10:40 Thursday morning. That the biblical definition of love is one that my husband follows.

So I say here publicaly, because I know he reads this, that I am sorry for not being the kind of wife you deserve. And that even as I'm writing this I know that it will all happen again. I'm sorry that I treat my friends better than I treat you. I'm sorry that in marrying me, I created distance from you. I'm sorry that I expect you to be someone you're not. I am sorry Mike -- you deserve so much better than me, and I know it.

This blog really is my struggle with life. I am an odd-ball. I'm a nut. I'm not a normal woman, a normal mother or a normal person. I am unstable with tendencies towards extreme dreaming, and reality never fits in with how I want things to be. This is incredibly unfair to my husband first and foremost, who cannot become what he's not based on my momentary requirements.

I've worked hard to protect a certain amount of innocence and to keep things silly in life, but as I mature I realize that life really, really is hard. That all of this really is torture, no matter how you look at it. When I was alone and successful (financially and with career) I wanted nothing more than to be a housewife and a married woman, savoring the moments of cuddling up to midnight movies on Friday nights. Now that I'm a housewife and married to a wonderful man with an amazing child, I want nothing more than to be single and creative with no responsibilities. There is nothing outside of myself that can make me happy.

I prayed for the first time yesterday in such a long time and I honestly believe that that prayer has changed some things in me. And it makes me think that my husband, Michael Garson, models himself after Jesus. Quiet and accepting while I'm far away but always willing to take me back with unjudgmental love and a gentle, warm embrace.

For the first time during this pregnancy

2007-09-25T12:09:00.000-04:00

I feel a profound love for my baby. I haven't felt it yet, and today, sitting here with my swollen ankles on top of piled pillows, I feel deep love for someone I don't know.

And, for the first time during my pregnancy, I feel in love with Mike. I have not felt in love with him for so, so long. But as I'm writing this, I am starting to get very teary eyed -- teary eyed at how much he loves me despite the terrible person I am. I don't know why or how he can still buy me flowers every week, even though at every pass, I'm ready to blame. I don't know why he's wiling to stay up two nights in a row, with very little sleep, to work on a festival book for a Greek church because he knows that it means something to me. How is he able to take all the blame I put upon him for everything. He never argues with me. He always agrees to try to work on things, even if they aren't his fault.

(I have to go. I am afraid I won't finish this later. I want to post this because these may be feelings that lead to a turning point).

Just follow the day and reach for the sun.

2007-09-19T13:04:00.000-04:00

It's amazing how music has the ability to heal me and to put me into a totally different mood. I'm wondering if part of my recent depression has been lack of music. Is this possible? Can music have this much of an effect? I haven't listened to music through this pregnancy, but usually, music is a major part of my day. Emmett and i dance to it. I turn it up really loud. I sing in my car. Is it possible that a fix is this easy?

I so happy right now, listening to a CD I made for my friend (JR--yours). Emmett and Zach are happily playing. I'm skipping to only the happy ones.

This is a longstanding favorite song of mine -- mainly because of the words. It exhillerates me. If you never heard it, I really encourage you to download it and listen to it.

Light and day
is more than you'll say
Because all
My feelings are more
Than i can let by
Or not
More than you've got
Just follow the day

Follow the day
and reach for the sun

You don't see me flyin to the red
One more you're done
Just follow the seasons and find the time
Reach for the bright side
You don't see me flyin to the red
One more you're nuts
Just follow the day
Follow the day and reach for the sun

Just follow the day
Follow the day and reach for the sun

Also, to JB, CB, FH & HH (and Mike and Emmett)...I had so much fun last night. xo

A dream and a confessional.

2007-09-18T04:23:00.000-04:00

Sexual Content Warning. Serious Confessional Content Warning.

A Disturbing Dream

It's 4:25 am and I just woke up from a dream I was having...a disturbing dream with many parts, but a dream I was having about one of my close "ex" friends from high school. In this dream, I was walking down the street and sort of hitch hiking, but requiring that a golden car pick me up. It was a time parallel to now, only it was normal to ask for the color car to pick you up that matched your outfit. (*sorry if this is barely readable. I'm so tired).

Janine picked me up and I got in. She was driving the same car she'd driven in high school; a tattered old Nissan (?) in dingy bronze with black accents. Her car was actually NOT the right color, but I got in anyway because it was her. It had one of those seatbelts attached to the door (that attack you) and was dirty. It was like she was someone from the dead arising when she stopped. I was a little scared of her the way I'd be scared of a ghost.

I got into the car and she told me about how she's been living in Florida near the Caribbean and how much she loved it. She went into all these details and I felt like I was riding with a corpse (literally, afraid of her). She dropped me off into a picture and I was a teenage girl wearing Jordashe jeans and standing with three balloons. i was actually coloring in my own balloons (one of which had three smaller balloons in it) and I was drawn to the side, in an almost like alley area and I kept saying "See mom and dad. This is why I'm so messed up. You never noticed I was wearing Jordashe jeans". All of the sudden, this lesbian came over and started stroking my hair and asking me if I had a poem to tell, and I started crying and told her to get off (not because she was a lesbian even) and it was like I had all this super thick, curly hair when she was doing that.

Right after that, I was suddenly transferred to a cancer treatment center in what felt like a fine hotel. The lesbian was in a hotel pool that told me that she could recognize cancer in my neck and that I needed to be checked out. So I got Mike and went to the doctor (a female) who told us to wait in the lobby. While I was waiting, I was standing in front of the pool. The lesbian told me I had to get into the pool in order to be checked out for cancer. I didn't want to, but she kept saying it was the only way they could tell. This made me very worried and I told Mike, but he seemed to think we should ask the doctor. Then he mentioned that the lesbian was the "style I liked". A male doctor came out and told us that I would have to get into the pool in order for them to check me for cancer...that they wouldn't be able to see it any other way. The lesbian kind of looked up in a told you so kind of way.

Things that are making me unable to sleep

I woke up at that point, seriously disturbed by a million things a few of which are listed below:

* I am scared around women.
Between the ages of 18 and 25, I was rejected by so many women who were close to me, I actually reformed my behavior to be a lot less controversial, to make sure I ask questions, and to allow no confrontation or fighting. The girl janine, was one of the people that rejected me the hardest with little explanation. (This thought just in. I've also felt rejected by men, but for some reason, it's not as bad, so for 10 or so years, I've relied on men to make me feel fun, pretty, acceptable, okay etc.) With women that I'm close to that I think may get angry at me or reject me, I find myself walking on eggshells sometimes and creating distance unintentionally. One of my friends has felt this (JB--this is you) and I am having a hard time explaining this or reconciling this. Somehow, I think my past history with women has left me with something wrong. In fact, I always have this little imagination that the rejection I felt in the past, the damage it did, and the changes I made to make myself more acceptable left me like Jack Nicholson in One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest. Like the raw and honest part of my personality has been lopped off. If there's any danger, I'll do anything to avoid being dumped.

* I am worried about my baby.
I'm very worried that there's something wrong with this baby. Specifically, I'm worried that the baby is retarded. And even if it's born okay, I'm worried that it will be autistic. But I usually don't even get that far. I'm so worried there's something wrong with him now. I am worried that my baby is retarded because I'm being punished for being a bad wife to Mike, with straying thoughts (marriage wise) and that this will force me to be in this family more and will bring us closer together and that God will use this tragedy to bring me closer to him. I can't tell you how worried I am about this. I'm worried because in almost 2 years, I've barely prayed. I've had such little connection with God. I haven't been "trying" to be a better person. I am afraid of God also. I know very often, things happen for a reason and it would make sense for there to be something wrong with my baby in order to finally ring me into this role. I am at a higher risk for a baby with downs syndrome.

* I feel rejected by my friend C.B. (not Colin)
He's a guy and Mike thinks it's because he's immature and I'm pregnant and there's a natural divide that happens for a single guy with that. That the guy doesn't really know how to handle it and I'm not the light, fun, carefree person I was. This could be true, but it's hurtful to me. I'm worried that one of the reasons is because he was doing Living Wage stuff for me and stopped abruptly. I'm wondering if he thought I should pay him to do it (which I would have done). I just thought he wanted to volunteer.

* I'm worried that my subconscious thinks I'm a lesbian
I re-read my dream including the idea of me jumping into a "pool" and wondering, do I somewhere secretly think I'm gay? Why am I having what some people would consider a "coming out of the closet" dream. I don't feel gay. I don't even feel comfortable around women a lot of the time and imagining intimacy actually makes me shudder (anything "too soft" sexually makes me shudder). but do I somewhere secretly put all this rejection together and conclude that I am gay? I really wish I didn't have a dream where I was jumping into the lesbian pool.

* I'm worried about the festival magazine
It's not nearly as big as it was last year and I think it's because Mike and I haven't been going to church (St. George). I'm worried about the crunch at the last minute, but am also thinking about suggesting to Pete that we have someone try to call people to get more ads. Also, I'm worried about the Priest and if it is weird for him if we go to church next week and he sees us. I'm also worried because we need to baptise the baby and I want to do it in the Orthodox church, but we haven't been going to church.

I'm worried that I've been too mean to Emmett
He was crying so much today. He's been sick for over a week and I'm becoming impatient with him. He's been loving the attention -- I am sure of that, but today I needed to get things done. I was snappy with him, trying to hurry him to school. Promising to do a project with him and then letting him do the project himself. He wanted me to listen to a book with him (the kind with a CD) and I didn't. I am a shitty mom right now. I need to be better. I have the best kid in the world. Emmett has been noticing the fighting between Mike and I and keeps bringing it up saying things like "Mommy, you are my favorite and daddy is my second favorite" or "Mommy, daddy doesn't love you, but I do" or "Mommy, I don't like this house. I don't like this table. I don't like you" Today I said, "Emmett, are you saying that to get my attention"? And he said "Mommy. I want your attention. I want you to help me color this." And even though he said that, I set the timer for 10 minutes and told him I would help him for that long. He says things like "Mommy, why are you always mad at daddy" and I try to explain that it's not a big deal and that when a mommy has a baby inside of her, everything feels different and so she gets upset and that daddy isn't wrong etc. Guys, you can't imagine how much of a failure I feel like right now...to both my children. The fact that Emmett is noticing this, possibly being damaged. The fact that I haven't played with him in MONTHS... The fact that with this baby, for 8 months I've been feeling like I wish I wasn't pregnant and worried that this baby is retarded and that I smoked on and off throughout the pregnancy (not now, but before). I am so messed up. I DO NOT DESERVE MY SON. I DO NOT DESERVE MY HUSBAND. I try to escape sometimes. I go into a "single world" and I haven't wanted to give this up. I am so wrong. God please forgive me everything. I'm a mess.

And I wish Groove is In The Heart would get out of my head. It seems drastically inappropriate for how I feel right now. I'm going to get Emmett and bring him into bed with me.

You want to know what's really happening with me?

2007-09-12T10:45:00.001-04:00

I'm miserable. I have drafts that aren't published with statements like "I hate my fucking life". The moments I write in my blog are "the best" of my day. I'm writing this because people are misunderstanding what I'm writing -- like my last post. The last post is about me. It's about me no longer being light about my problems. It's about friends that don't know how to deal with me being heavy right now. The result is that I'm going into isolation about my feelings like a person with cancer not wanting to bother anyone.

I am a semi-private person. I don't like to be completely vulnernable, but I also tell a lot of what's going on. I've always held onto a life jacket when I'm dealing with my problems and that makes life bearable. Sometimes, I let more out than other times. I "heal" through talking and when I talk or write, I'm sometimes counseling myself. This is a method that works for me, but it varies by situation. So for one situation you'll see me crying, saying everything. The next, I'll tell you with a stone cold face that I am turning the hurt I feel into anger because I can't deal with being vulnerable. I'm inconsistent based on how I can deal with things.

Please don't judge me and forgive me for anything that offends you. I don't mean it. I love and value all of my friendships and anyone that reads this blog. It means a lot that you care. My intentions are never to hurt anyone. I'm never sending secret messages with the things I feel.

I'm drawn to damaged things.

2007-09-11T08:36:00.000-04:00

The underdog.

The runt of the litter.

The imperfect Christmas tree.

The face with a scar.

Yesterday, I began thinking about this -- quite randomly -- while we were eating breakfast on the Ocean City boardwalk. I began to think about the people I know, why I know them, how they're alike, how I'm like them, and what makes friendships work. Mike and I talked about it for 45 minutes and in the end, I came up with something I now firmly believe:

My Philosophy About Damaged People & Friendships

I believe people with the same amount of damage that process that damage in the same way, are drawn to one another.

In other words, the friends I have are damaged to the "same level" as I am and they deal with problems in the "same way" as I do. For me, the damage that I've experienced has created a crust of cynicism around me. It's created defenses to letting people too far in. It's created a toughness. It's created an alternative view of the world. BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY, the way that I'm comfortable dealing with my own damage *Right Now* is by skirting over things and enjoying life in a silly kind of way. By being very busy. By laughing a lot and doing funny projects. By gettting overly into analyzing something of insignificence. In a way, at this stage of my life (age 34 with a kid), I am dealing with the things that have hurt me by not dealing with them and keeping everything light.

What All My Close Friends Have In Common

I sat there with Mike and examined every friendship I have and realized that every close friend** I have has been rejected by a parent. I also realized that every close friend I have is affected by this to the "same level" as I am.

My Amount of Damage on a Scale of 1-10

On a scale of 1 - 10 (10 being drug addict on street, 1 being almost dumb, happy person), my damage level is about a 6. I'm not terribly damaged, but I'm definitely cynical. I can function. I can lead a normal life. I can cope. BUT, I always feel different. I actually *feel* more than other people. My view of living is one of survival and I don't trust people in terms of getting too close. These things do add a creative depth to me, so I've learned to embrace these things. But behind it all, there's pain I'm sure.

Over the years, I've gone through "serious" periods of dealing with that pain and "accepting" periods of just accepting my past and keeping things light. For a few years now, I've been in a period of acceptance -- distracting myself with busy, silly things that make me laugh. Surrounding me have been other people able to do this.

Problems That Happen in Friendships Are Because of Damage
Problems in friendships occur when:

1. One person is MORE damaged than the other.
2. One person is LESS damaged than the other.
3. Although equally damaged, one person is processing their damage in a way that makes the other person feel uncomfortable at that stage of their life.

During pregnancy, there's a lot of introspection, sadness, and realization of life changes. Over these past 8 months, some of my "damage" is coming out in a deeper, less silly way. Armed with these thoughts and uncomfortable with THIS way of processing damage, the only trace of it most people will see and that I feel is here in this blog. Outside of that, there's a detached awareness of a depression that's surfacing and all these doors leading to dark corridors. Sadly, I don't like dealing with all this crap this way. I want these hormones to stop. i want to go back to the way everything was 8 months ago when the idea of a rock star marionette could make me laugh endlessly.

** There are a few exclusions to this and I addressed them with Mike. But what we realized is that these people, the people on the "cusp", have older siblings that experienced this type of damage and indirectly adopted the defenses and bitter crust due to influences by their older sibling.

It seems like all the shows I really liked

2007-09-08T08:04:00.000-04:00

lasted between one and three years. (The New) You Asked For It went from 1981-1983. It was a great concept and a great show. The idea was to answer or investigate bizzare questions and ideas -- as requested by the audience. As an 8 year old girl, I wrote to the show and asked if they could find the original Annie from the first broadway play and if they could find out she was and what she was doing. I spent the whole day carefully handwriting the letter and walked it up to the mailbox, put it in, closed the lid and opened it again to see if it was actually gone. It was a big deal for me.

The night I sent the letter, I cried in my bed for over an hour realizing that if they ever answered my question on the show, I would never be able to see it because we didn't have a TV.

Now it seems so cool that my parents raised us for awhile without a TV, but has anyone noticed how much I bring it up? All these people with the "Kill Your Television" myspace response -- I can't help but to feel slightly irritated.

The incident above was the second time i was in my bed crying for hours feeling like I would miss something on TV. The first time, it was a show I was ON. The News came to our class and filmed us. I never saw it.

Can you imagine how it felt as a 7 year old in elementary school, when everyone cames into school with Burger King 3-D glasses? Can you imagine going to a friend's house, and you really don't want to play...you just want to watch TV? AND you feel like you're sneaking? It was like we were Amish, Audrey and I -- but especially me because I was older. Between that and us NOT BEING ALLOWED to sing Halloween songs* in music class, I am keenly aware of why I felt like a freak even as a little girl.

My parents did a good job of raising us and and we were far and away the most creative kids on our block. It had SOMETHING to do with not having a TV, but it wasn't without a price. When my grandmother finally gave my family a new TV (literally imposed it upon us), my parents made a rule of 2 shows (1 hour) a night. I think that makes a lot more sense.

*Imagine sitting in a circle with all the kids singing 3 little jack-o-lanterns sitting on a tree and YOU are the ONLY KID not singing because you aren't allowed

My energy is

2007-09-07T11:22:00.000-04:00

gone this week. Nothing satisfies me and I don't want to do anything. I miss smoking terribly and wish there were no ramifications to that addiction. I don't feel like going anywhere or doing anything -- except, maybe going to the shore. That's really all I want to do is be near the water and the sand. I am unmotivated and generally sluggish.

TV is actually boring for me -- even my favorite crime shows. When I work on a crossword puzzle I feel so disgusted with myself at the amount of time I'm wasting. I still can't sleep. I eat for no reason. I sleep all the time. This is depression, I'm sure. I'll probably get over it in a few days, but the energy part of this is what's driving me into misery.

Sleeping quarters of

2007-09-04T08:39:00.000-04:00

truck cabs are something that I get obsessed with during long highway trips. I talk about them endlesly...the sizes, the colors and the set up.

It's something that happened when Mike and I took our first cross country trip and it continues whenever we're on the road for more than 2 hours. I can't visually reconcile the spacing of the sleeping quarters in those cabs. I compare them...I examine them...I think about how a bigger cab could be a "perk" to working for a certain company. I obsess about what happens inside of them. I pay attention to truck stops where there are a ton of parked trucks with people sleeping.

There's something about those cabs that feels a little like playing fort to me or camping out in my grandmother's backyard when we were little. I can just imagine hearing the rain on the metal, or having a little black and white TV and eating oatmeal. I've talked to Mike about it for hours.

I think it's an extension of my obsession with Winnebegos, but it's a little more fascinating because it's less based in luxury and more on survival. It's that lonely kind of life, with periodic interactions at truck stops and miniature versions of comfort.

Suddenly you realize

2007-09-01T08:11:00.000-04:00

when you're 7 months pregnant, that your single friends don't want to actually hang out with you. They still love you, but talking on the phone works best. After all, it's strange to look at you, you can't drink, and plus -- you can't really do anything fun. And who wants to go out with a pregnant woman. Anyway, she SHOULD be taking it easy. She SHOULDN'T be going out. And there's nothing cool about being seen with someone that's pregnant. And can I blame anyone? Not really. There's really nothing to bring up with anyone, because I remember it and understand it. I remember before I had Emmett, I knew this girl that was HUGLY pregnant with her second child. When I went out with her, I felt like the only role I could fit into was "helping". I didn't feel like she was an actual person. I just felt like she was pregnant and I was an assistant and we were having a "nice", "wholesome" time. My good times happened with non-pregnant, flexible, energetic people. And when I would leave her, it would be back to normal life.

Remembering this creates this forceful rebellion in me and I work hard to not show my physical limitations. When someone asks me how I feel, I downplay it as much as possible. When it's by a non-parent friend, I offer no information, pretending that there's nothing different. "Oh, I'm fine!" I feel almost defensive. I feel a desire to remind them that this is not who I really am. With parent friends, I feel normal and I tell them what's happening.

Unlike my pregnancy with Emmett, I feel very conspicous looking to non-parent friends and abnormal and strange in a sci-fi sort of way. I feel every ounce of my coolness is drained into maternity fashion. I feel keenly aware of the fact that my energy and appearance contribute greatly to being popular with friends that don't have children. I did an experiment when I was in college with this and realized that for me, the likable side of my personality is directly connected with my appearance.

By and large, I feel like a person with a terminal illness. At this point, I feel most comfortable with other parents because I know they get it. I know they know I can't help it. And I know they understand that there's no way to be supercool with 40 extra pounds and a gigantic belly.

Comments are disabled on this one because anything anyone writes I won't believe anyway. I think everyone knows what I mean. I'm just voicing all this. And this isn't directed at anyone in particular. It's very general and connected to feelings that I had before I had Emmett.

PLEASE DON'T THINK I'M TALKING ABOUT ANYONE IN PARTICULAR OR OVERLY ASK ME TO HANG OUT... THIS IS JUST AN OBSERVATION. I"M OVER THE SADNESS TODAY (Tues)

The importance of a domineering

2007-08-30T10:18:00.000-04:00

man for me is incredibly high. It's because I'm domineering and I never want to be one of those Harriet/Nells relationships. So this is something Mike and I are working on. Me being less dominating and him being more. But I don't know how to make strength go away. I don't really know how to make myself become less decisive and less opinionated. I always have a strong feeling about things and I don't know how to not have that reflected in my reactions. Mike rarely feels anything strongly. This is a really difficult thing.

Having said that, this kind of relationship enables me total freedom. I never feel cramped by Mike with regard to friendships with guys -- going out -- involving myself in projects etc. etc. But at the same time, I often feel not taken care of. I feel alone and on my own in this marriage, which in a lot of ways is something I need. Still, there's this desire to have someone contain me slightly. I don't know how this can possibly work in a marriage. I view Mike as a captor sometimes, even though he allows me total freedom. Yet in that freedom, it takes a lot for me to control the wild nature of my personality, so I view Mike as negligent in his caring for me. He can't win.

I always related to the film "Taming of the Shrew" and felt that was what would happen to me. But I didn't marry someone like that and it didn't happen that way. Instead, the modifications I've made have more to do with my child and having to be more mature than I actually feel.

I'm just rambling on. Things are not terrible in my marriage right now, but we did have a few problems on the trip. And I still wonder what would have happened if I married a more controlling type of guy. I wish I could just be happy with SOMETHING besides my son.

Being home is like

2007-08-29T10:29:00.000-04:00

relaxing and unsettling. I am happy to be home, but not necessarily happy to be in "my home" back in my life. When I was in Florida, there were a lot of things that happened that made me want to come back right away. Mainly, I couldn't sleep.

Being back though, with the impending routine on me, is sort of depressing. I want to live near the water.

To boldy ask "Is everyone having a good time".

2007-08-20T04:21:00.000-04:00

We're in Florida at my grandmother's house. It's 4:22 in the morning and I'm the only one up. I went to sleep at around 6pm yesterday. I realized yesterday that being tired makes me very critical and irritable with my family. I get very touchy about everything and rethink events in a more negative (than actual reality) way. All this to say, I'm looking forward to my dad waking up so I can apologize to him. But I'm looking at about 4 hours before that happens.

My grandmother is so, so sweet. There are pictures of Emmett up everywhere (and Audrey -- there is a whole piece of furniture dedicated to Javin). Her entire goal is for us to have a good time. I know very much where I got my desire to host -- she's just more honest than me. We'll be sitting there, and she's bringing out all kinds of food, in odd combinations, but you know she's doing it because she has no idea what anyone is hungry for and thinks if she can just put the right thing out, when the person sees it they'll eat it. And then she will keep asking "Is everyone happy? Is everyone having a good time?" I WISH I could ask that! When I'm entertaining, even in the smallest way, all I'm trying to do is make the person or people have a good time. If they're happy, I'm happy. My grandmother is the same way.

Here's the weird thing. The reaction when someone asks you if you're happy is to not give too much response. I've made a mental note of this for when I'm older and become exactly like my grandmother. When someone is trying hard to make you happy and you're content, there's some weird desire to make that person feel like it's not working. You're not happy. Now I don't do this with my grandmother, but I see other relatives do it with her. Her dream would be for us to say "Wow Yaya! We are having a great time! The food you put out hit the spot and everything is so comfortable. We are so glad we are here!" I am making a note of this so that the next time she asks me I can enthustiacally reply that I am having a great time. (Because I am -- I'm just relaxing). One more mental note. I need to tell Yaya what a great host she is. She tries so hard and she really does succeed.

One more thought about hosting, and something that's happened to every single friend I have including every person that reads this blog. Althought I don't ask everyone if they're having a good time when they're at my house, I will secretly ask a close friend that's over if they think things are "going well". If it's a smaller group or one friend, when everyone leaves, I'll ask Mike if he thought everyone had a good time. In fact, whenever anyone comes for a visit, even if it's just for a short time, me asking Mike if he thought it was fun is a definite. The only thing that holds me back from having fun is when other people can't.

Very often, my after-visit conversations with Mike involve analyzing even the tiniest "off" reaction to ensure the person truly had fun. There is little room in the conversation for Mike to reply "yeah, it was okay". That statement for me is deadly. I don't think I ever realized this before now.

WARNING: THIS BLOG IS GETTING VERY DEEP INTO MY CRAZY WAY OF THINKING. YOU MAY NOT BE ABLE TO FOLLOW FROM THIS POINT ON

(The thinking pattern that's about to happen is proof of my insane map approach to thinking) So I wonder about my ability to have fun with a person that's not fun. I don't think it can be done. As I'm writing this, I'm realizing that paramount to me is a happy person, at least during a visit. A person that I perceive as unhappy when visiting, I take as a direct reflection of discontentment with me (unless there's been a deep discussion outlining why they're not happy). In other words, if a person is over and seems downcast, I must talk to them and try to help them out of it. This is part of my desire to create happiness around me. If I can't get into that part of them, I give up. My happiness at their visit is over.

I'm realizing now that friendships fall into two categories for me: Close, deep & analytical or fun, silly and happy. There is very little outside of these two. And when someone is on my turf, my need to show them a good time takes over, and my enjoyment is mirrored directly from the amount of happiness I perceive in them.

so so tired and about to go on trip

2007-08-19T04:41:00.000-04:00

I am. To the point that I'm thinking like Yoda, in that strange sentence kind of way. Anyway, it's 4:42 and I've had 2 hours sleep. When Mike came in (at like 3) he woke me up and I wasn't able to get back. He kept grinding his teeth and I kept yelling at him, hoping that subconsciously, he'd associate grinding his teeth with being yelled at.

My dad is going to be here in 15 minutes and then we're off to Florida for 10 days. I got a flight deal for $35 round trip and my relatives decided to have their baby's christening when we were there (and asked me to be the godmother). I'm honored but nervous.

I'm irritated with the weight of this pregnancy and can't wait until I can have my old body back again. I realize that it's very important for me to feel pretty and that being pregnant, I feel sort of "cute" sometimes, but it really doesn't do it for me.

Other than that, I go through infatuations with people and things like a little girl in a babydoll aisle. I'm constantly becoming entranced with someone or something new, and then it fades away like the hum after a delusional, dreamer-based conversation with a pile of friends. I can't keep up with myself and wish I didn't want to be so "in touch" with what I feel. Because unlike a regular person, I can't just be in touch with the actual feeling. I have to figure out why I'm feeling it. And if you do this, you know, that there are 50 million conclusions you can come to -- like a map with millions of different routes to get to the destination. So you keep thinking -- until you find the one you like, and you never know if it's even right. Or if you should keep thinking.

I am becoming an old woman.

2007-08-06T22:05:00.000-04:00

There is no question about this.

Here's the proof:

1. Crosswords. It's ridiculous. Look, I write about them here, but I am not really explaining how much I love them. How I look forward to "my crossword" as I call it.

2. Murder Mysteries. I don't write about them here, but they are far and away my favorite TV shows. Sure. It started out "normally" with shows like CSI, but I needed more. More meaning Dateline...20/20.

3. "Honey". I NEVER thought I would call Emmett "honey", but I do it. I'm out of the closet on this.

4. Weather Moodiness. As some of you know, I have slight ARTHRITIS. When it's going to rain, my hands feel it. Additionally, "the weather" will change my plans. If it's raining, I don't want to drive. If it's too hot, I'm just too tired.

5. Life Documents. I know nothing about the legal and billing side of our lives. Today Mike informed me that "if anything should happen", he has life insurance. Enough to "pay off the house". I was frozen like "Well what will I do? How will I know what to do." It was when Mike said "Don't worry. There are papers in my files. Someone will figure it out", that I realized that I don't have a clue...even about HOW or WHO to pay our mortgage to.

(ADD ON)

6. The post below. Old ladies giggly talk about "their boyfriends" even though they (the old ladies) are married and have no chance.

Things that are changing or that I figured out.

2007-08-05T21:08:00.000-04:00

In some bizarre way, i am in love with the young Chevy Chase. I actually feel slightly infatuated with him and think he is my dream guy of all times. I also feel that way about the young Jack Nicholson, but not as much. In today's day and age, the only one is Jason Bateman, but in an Alex P. Keaton kind of way.

It may be that it's the pregnancy, but my longstanding affair with frosted mini wheats is ending. I don't want them. I don't like how they taste with Soy Milk. Honey Bunches of Oats seems to satisfy me.

While talking about food, I can't get enough pizza these days.

Crosswords are becoming an obsession and I'm actually getting better at them. I usually get very close to completion, but can't seem to get the last few. Thank you Jessica for the STAR magazine which contains my favorite crosswords.

I really like underlining my eyes with red lip liner

If I don't wash my face and brush my teeth before bed, sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and have to do it. If i don't, I wake up earlier because of it.

"Sunday Morning-You're doing your thing and I...am doing mine"

2007-08-05T06:29:00.000-04:00

Yard Sale, Selling CDs & Emmett's Lemonade Stand

There's some remorse after having a yard sale...it's weird. There's some odd sadness that happens when you've gotten rid of things --even if you don't use them anymore. I didn't get rid of the CD with the song in my title, because CDs are extremely hard for me to give up. I didn't sell any. I don't even throw away scratched ones. And mix CDs are the worst. Scratched, caseless CD's without liner notes. Mike is begging me to go through them, but somehow that music relates to my history.

So yesterday we had a yard sale, and weird as it is, the hardest thing for me to let go were Mike's CD's. He had years and years of what most people would consider a great collection. Daniel Johnston, Radiohead, Half Japanese, Luna, (I saved Sigorous) and on and on. Early on, a young indie rock record shop owner who saw my post on craigslist came and bought all the best ones. About 30. Mike sold them for $100 and they were just gone. Mike doesn't care, but for me it's monumental. Like we just aged. Like, he just did something that years down the line he'll say "Yeah, I used to have an awesome CD collection". Like one of the coolest parts of my husband is now in a record store. To Mike, he has them all in his computer and doesn't feel this at all.

Emmett's Lemonade stand didn't work. Called "The Superhero Refill Station", he is way too young to have a Lemonade stand and was asking me to tell every person that "If they wanted Lemonade, he had some". It was very cute, but also embarrassing and it put me in a hard position. I was (obviously) not going to tell people that but I didn't want to let emmett down. We didn't have the kind of cooler with the spicket, so I had to pour every glass (so suddenly it's "My" stand). Additionally, Emmett became reattached to his toys -- the ones he told us we could sell. We let him keep a few. I want Emmett to get into Lemonade stands someday. For Audrey and I, this was a major step in our entereprenural development (I really believe that) and was one of the most fun things we could do on a summer day. In fact, my dad actually made us a real wood lemonade stand with a shelf and a wood banner area at the top. We'd wake up in the summer and just decide to do a Lemonade stand on Marshall Road.

Watching a disturbing show.

Then, Mike and Emmett went to a fair and I opted not to go. This was the right move as I ended up sleeping for 6 hours in the afternoon, waking up, and going back to bed for the night. I forced myself to watch something I would never otherwise watch. An MSNBC report on a case of child molesting.

Anything dealing with harm to children is something that upsets me so deeply, that I avoid it. But last night I decided that I NEED to realize that not all people are good and that I am too trusting. That I AM good and that sort of mindset is something I don't understand. That I need to, as a mother, become a little more wary of people I don't know. So I watched it. The entire thing. And then I watched a show about Maximum Security Inmates. And as hard for me as it was, I am glad I did it. I need to err on my instinct. I need to allow my instincts to be wrong when it comes to people I don't know well. Emmett is the most important thing in my life and protecting him is the only thing in the world that pumps me into extreme pride and furious defense. Seeing that has positioned me in a different way.
The most important job I have is protecting him.

We live in an evil world. It's like, there are two types of people -- good and bad. I have surrounded myself with good people. Not to say the people I know don't have a sinister side, but it's not one that does serious damage to other people. I believe that ruining another person or harming another person physically or emotionally for the long term, is the most terrible thing a person can do.

Feeling happier being married

Having said all that, lately, I've been feeling happy with my marriage and my husband. For so long, I thought we were destined for a life of misery. I'm not sure what happened, but somehow, things are getting a million times better. I've been feeling lately like Mike is my partner. Like I made a really solid choice -- something that's good for me. And that even though I feel squashed by the idea of marriage sometimes, that without Mike, I don't even know who I am anymore. That he IS MY FAMILY. That HE IS part of me. And without him, I'd be lost. I'm a mess and Mike is the binding around my edges. He (literally) keeps me together. To some people, that statement could have a flip side like "But you should be free...you should be unstuffed...what are you missing that's not coming out". But if you really think about the analogy, a stuffed animal coming unstuffed, is a disaster. Stuffing falls out, it gets everywhere --- the toy loses it's shape. It gets old. It rips more. It becomes trash.

It's like I picked a very reliable, very solid used car. I runs well, the air conditioner is ice cold, the seats are leather, the radio has good speakers, there aren't any rips or stains and I got a fair deal. A good deal. And people always remark at what a good deal I got. Instead of realizing that, I've been looking at people with sports cars (often ones that are not reliable, or very used on the inside) and feeling jealous and thinking that I made the wrong choice. When I think about an analogy like this as it relates to my marriage...it all makes sense.

I'm crazy.

There are two sides

2007-07-26T08:18:00.000-04:00

to every story. This is something I've learned as I've gotten older. Even the person that seems right has contributed something to the problem. It was hard for me to understand this for a really long time in my youth. Generally, I felt that I was totally right about everything -- not even accepting things I KNEW I'd done wrong -- even when I was called on them. One of my reactions to this realization, when dealing with someone I love, has become to take all the blame and to assume I'm wrong about everything. With Mike, when the regret of a fight hits home, I assume I've done everything wrong and that Mike has been right about everything. Even now, I'm thinking "Yep. That's usually how it is. I'm always wrong".

So why am I writing this? Without going into too much detail, Mike's family is very focused on siding. When there is a divide in the family, those involved are eager to find a safe side -- a supportive side. There is a victim thing that happens in that family, where one of the sides positions themselves as a victim. I've seen it over and over again over the years, and Mike and I (particularly me) are the most desired canidates for a "side". Mainly because we care and we'll talk about it and somehow we've won this "center of truth" connotation. My position has always been to remain neutral, but this is almost impossible in Mike's family.

Now, we're in a situation with Mike's family that involves siding. And by all appearances, it seems I've taken a side and am supporting the younger one positioned as a victim (In this unusual situation, both are positioned as victims). Unlike other situations in his family, I am more vulernerable here because we're dealing with a child. God help me. I'm so confused. I don't want to contribute problems. I just want peace.

I'm realizing I don't know how to stay neutral and talk about anything with anyone. Everyone is telling me how they feel (which is fine) but my reaction in conversations is to say "Yeah...I understand....uh huh". How do I not do that?

I guess the whole sleeping thing is ending.

2007-07-25T06:04:00.000-04:00

It's 6:04 am. I woke up early this morning and early yesterday morning. I miss the days (like a month ago) when I was sleeping so late and so long.

I had really weird dreams last night. Something about an English guy, us -- living in England, a house, and sci-fi. Unlike other dreams, I can directly connect this to the movie "Arthur" we watched with Emmett last night. He got it at a bike race we took him to on Bastille Day in the Art Museum area. Last night, Mike took off the side of his crib so he has a big boy bed now. (He climbs out everyday. In fact, one day he gave me a demonstration of how he does it, and I videotaped it). Last night, when the bar was gone, Emmett told me he wanted the barwall back up because he was a little afraid of falling out of the bed. So we lined pillows on the floor just in case he fell out (which he hasn't). He also gave up his pacifier a month ago. I made him play the "why I like you game" yesterday. I would say "I like you Emmett because you're funny" and then he said "I like you Mommy because you're funny". It went on and on with him repeating the same things to me. Here are the things I said to him. I like you Emmett because...you're funny, you're smart, you're giving to others, you're cute. (then the game ended)

Also, I got these antique party invitations at a flea market. Most of them are cutesy with little girls on them. But one of them has this extremely cute little painting of a 60's style puppy holding flowers in it's mouth with script that says "You're Invited". When Emmett saw them, he told me he wanted them as the invitations for his birthday because he loves doggies so much. He hugged the invitations and said "I love them". (see invitations above)

Last weekend...Surprise Adventure Tour II

2007-07-24T04:58:00.000-04:00

Over the weekend, we did our second Surprise Adventure Tour for Mike's 36th birthday. It was one of the best weekends of the summer. Everyone had fun, and we included a kid's option, so Emmett was able to come. We all bonded and had a completely awesome time.

Here's a portion of the email invite I sent:
THE “Choose Your Own Adventure” SURPRISE ADVENTURE TOUR
This year, we're doing a Surprise Adventure Tour for Mike's birthday, only we decided to give the option for being surprised. In case your new to this concept, Surprise Adventure Tours are “our take” on adult birthdays. Rather than doing something for Mike, we’re trying to make a memory with you. We give you the dates and times. We give you an approximate cost. We give you clues and tell you everything you need. You simply show up and we go. This years adventure involves the word “FUN” the word “RELAX” the word “INDEPENDENT” and the word “THRILL”.

Surprise Number One - Amusement Park
At about 10am, Mike, Phil, Chris, Anthony, Emmett and I made our way on a three hour journey to Knoebels -- a theme park out in the middle of nowhere PA that has no admission fee. It's like a place straight out of the sixties with old style paintings, wooden roller coasters, surprise parades, a dog show, and hundreds of rides. The place is well kept and stress fee, with affordable concession stands, lots of space to BBQ and picnic, and very clean grounds. We got to the motels around 1:00, dropped off our stuff, and went to the park. Emmett Chris and I hung out in the kid's section and everyone else did the adult rides.

Surprise Number Two - Rodeo
At about 7pm, we took off and went to a Rodeo about 50 minutes away. They had bull riding, a horse competition, and a horse doing "tricks". Chris and I both felt sort of disturbed by it all, but of course, we are not at all in touch with how those animals feel.

Surprise Number Three - Drinking at the motel
We went back to the Glosser Inn motel and Jessica and Colin met us there. I am very picky about motels, and this was a very lo-level. It was cheap and we had two adjoining rooms. They were both smoking, so I brought candles and aired it out for the day. It was okay when we got back, but it was no Best Western (my favorite hotel chain). I found out that Tammy Faye died and got pretty depressed. Emmett and I went to bed and everyone else went out to the surprisingly well stocked "motel bar" and drank to celebrate Mike's birthday. I was going through my own struggle with a bed that I couldn't sleep in. Literally, "my side" was sunken in. I got upset when Mike came back and realized once again that I hate non-chain hotels.

Surprise Number Four - Exploration in Edysburg
We got up the next day, checked out, and went to a weird flea market down the road. Phil saw a guy with his face blown off and another guy with several wooden limbs. I bought some antique party invitations, Phil bought some vintage lunch box thermases, and Mike got some sparklers. Emmett got a little remote control car (complete with a wire). We got lunch at a nearby restaurant, but it was really dinner. $10.99 for an all you can eat buffet. It was an insane amount of food and Emmett ate for free. At the end, they sang happy birthday to Mike and we all got ice cream.Back to Knoebles...we went for day 2 at the park. Chris played Laser Tag with Mike and Phil. Laser Tag for them turned out to be one of the highlights of the journey. None of them had ever played before. Emmett and I did more kids rides with the grand finale being a ride on the kid's roller coaster. Emmett was 1 inch too short, and when the guy told him he couldn't go on, his head sunk into Mike's shoulder and he was crying -- devestated. We took him on one more ride -- a big slide -- and that made everything okay. We got in the van and began our journey home.

Final Surprise - The City On Fire
The final tour involved a tour through Centralia a city that's been on fire (underground) since 1962. We walked around a little.

The Ride Home
We stopped at Turkey Hill and realized we'd eaten terribly the entire time. Anthony got in Jessica & Colin's car, and we stopped at the Cracker Barrel. I was craving a fresh salad. The ride back was actually one of the highlights for me full of laughter. And as of yesterday, all of us felt sort of hungover and tired.

I just have a few more minutes

2007-07-13T09:26:00.000-04:00

of my morning Internet routine. Emmett has a few "engagements" this morning. he has more friends than I ever did growing up. Yesterday, he played with Shu for awhile and was supposed to play with Nate and also Chloe. But we both fell asleep for hours and Mike canceled them for us. Today, he's playing with Zack then Chloe then Owen.

Last night, Mike went to this women's wrestling thing with Phil and Seph and I decided that I would take Emmett out for a special night. We went to Johnny Rockets and colored. He wore the hat and got two red balloons. Then we rented the Land Before Time 13. Can you believe it? I asked if they had the original movie and they said no.

Things are just getting better all around and I feel like we're getting on top of all of this. I'm much happier with Mike and my life lately and my family is beginning to come first -- and it's enjoyable for me. I guess I just go in phases. Emmett is adorable and is in this "I love Mommy" stage which I wish would never end. Our business is on haiatus until we get samples, but everything is coming and we still get inquiries. I started going to Circle again and think I will continue. I also need to start going to St. George again somehow. A big part of me believes in the Orthodox faith. I am going to baptize this baby orthodox again.

Summer is wonderful. I don't want it to end. It makes me think of LA. It makes me think of NY. I'm so bored with Philadlephia, aside from the people. BUT, for Emmett's sake, this is the right place for us. Maybe when Mike and I are old, we'll get a tiny little apartment in New York city. That's what I've always wanted to do anyway.

Jessica asked me about the transition with Wayne and Phil moving out, and surprisingly it hasn't been as hard as I thought. I think it's in part because they live so close and I talk to Phil everyday. I don't talk to Wayne as much, but he's busy with his kid this summer. Phil is the one that was always here and the one I thought would be hardest to adjust to life without. But so far, everything is okay. This isn't to say I don't want to live in a gigantic commune someday, because I still do. But a commune meaning a community of people doing neat things. That's what I'm into.

Other things running through my mind are...is there a hair on my back that's making my shoulder blade itch? Emmett sure is sleeping a long time. The mean lady on our block is being really nice to me. I wonder how much weight I've gained outside of my belly. I can't wait until Mike and I are in business. I wonder how Jessica's trash initiative is going. I'm excited about the BBQ on Thursday. I wonder when Emmett will wake up.

I feel so grateful

2007-07-10T10:13:00.001-04:00

for the friends I have. I'm sitting here thinking about how deep my relationships are. I'm thinking about the loyalty and the kindness...the care, concern and acceptance. I realize I am so, so lucky. I don't know how I've found such genuine people and how it's possible that they're around me. God is so good to me. I love you guys. I would write names here, but you all know who you are. Thank you. Thank you so much for loving me and for supporting me and listening to me, and for reading this blog even.

I'm an oddball. I'm crazy. I'm unstable. I'm emotionally sporatic. Somehow, none of you judge me for these things.

Here's some proof that

2007-07-09T09:18:00.000-04:00

"friends with benefits" is a concept that doesn't work. A girl I really like came down on Friday to see this guy she sleeps with about once a month. They're just "friends" and have been friends for about 10 years. All along, he's said it's nothing more. But all along I've known (and several other people have known) that she is into him because it's obvious. I made warnings to this guy and told him he should back off or just recognize it. He didn't want to hear it or deal with it. If it was left unsaid, I think he felt not to blame.

The problem is, this is a really sweet, gentle and sensitive girl. She has problems, but I genuinely like her. This weekend, when she came down from NY, she told me she was getting into a real relationship with someone else and that it was hard for her to stop seeing this guy. So, she told the guy -- hoping to find something kind or loving in him. There was nothing. He said "Why are you acting like we have a relationship? Your emotions are way too strong for this situation."

I am friends with both of them, but much better friends with the guy. Somehow, I've gotten into the middle of this situation and I'm always "supporting" the ruins of this impossible arrangement. Last night, when she was at my house crying for three hours, I started getting really irritated with his lack of irresponsibility. I counseled her as much as I could, and when he came over later, I made him deal with it and made them talk.

There's a certain point that a person knows that another person is in love with them. To keep that person around -- ignoring their feelings just to get what you want "blamelessly" -- is just wrong. I started thinking about this guy and the fact that he has KNOWN this the whole time and thinking about how callous it is to let someone love you when you don't love them back. Whenever a guy has liked me -- particularly a friend -- I would immediately move away from the friendship so they wouldn't be hurt by me if I wasn't interested. I know today I'm going to have to talk about this more and somehow resist aligning against him with her.

Marriage really is better. Thank God I'm not in the dating scene.

Here's my list for today

2007-07-02T16:38:00.000-04:00

Call:
• Wayne- Okay having Nate on 4th (done)
• M Card/B Republic
• Mom - Dianes
Clean:
• Bathrooms
Do:
• Charge old cell
• Fill out ticket info (done)
• Check for Ana
• Send Aunt Flo card
• Uncle Peter - Gift?
• Emmett Bath
• Grad Check - Jesse
• Genuardis Order

I would also like to address my last request for people to tell me who they are. The truth is, it's okay if you don't want to. I don't really care that much. I don't want to make anyone feel like they're not allowed to read this blog. I don't want it to be private, that's why I have it up here. And that's something I've been really thinking about lately. There is something in saying things honestly -- outloud, instead of pretending they're not happening. There's something about allowing people to see you as imperfect, instead of trying and pretending to be perfect.

Here's a funny story
(I've told this story about a million times).
When Phil and I began taking our class together, we sat next to each other (of course) in the computer room. It was set up in a square, and the desks went around the parameter of the room. On the first day, I was joking with Phil and writing his name in cursive with hearts and stars all over my computer screen (and laughing). But I realized that everyone in the class could see my computer screen. It looked like I was "in love" (in a very girlish way) with my boyfriend that I was taking the class with.

As you can imagine, there was nothing I could do about this besides erase it. I couldn't stand up and make an announcment to the class that Phil was just my housemate and that I was married with a kid. It turned out not to matter. There weren't really any pretty girls in the class...until we noticed the redhead. She was the only girl in the class with potential. I cut class one week and phil said he talked to her.

After one of our last classes, she warmed up to me and started a conversation. I was participating and so was Phil -- but I was barely participating. I was waiting, like a hunter, for an opportunity to clear Phil of any connection to me, very clearly pregnant at that point. And brilliantly, I figured it out!

Me: "So, where do you live"? I asked
Girl: "Oh, I live in West Philly. Where do you guys live?"
Me: "Oh, we're not boyfriend and girlfriend at all! This is just my housemate. I have a separate husband that's the father of my baby and everything"...
Phil: "Yeah. Not my baby".
(Pause)
Me: "But yeah, we live in South Philly".

Dear Everyone

2007-07-01T10:21:00.000-04:00

It's all hanging out here on this blog. Some of it is obvious, because I write it straight out. Other parts I've coded for myself to understand. Pictures mean things to me. This blog is very odd. I don't want to take it down, yet I become self-conscious about how much I'm saying and who I'm saying it too. I mean, anyone can read my blog. I'm not going to be a dictator demanding you tell me who you are. But if you're a regular reader, would you mind telling me? You can email me or write your initials in the comments, and I'll figure it out.

Yesterday was another frustrating day for me. We had a BBQ for Wayne's birthday. Originally, it was because Wayne and Phil are moving out also, but I was convinced out of focusing on "the move" at the party. So it just became about Wayne. I'm getting sick of not drinking and not smoking.

I've been focused on one friendship circle for awhile now, and I think I need to undo some dependence I have on it. I think I need to focus more on the other friendship circle I'm in, even thought it's not as edgy. Somehow, in this preganancy, I'm drawn to things that scare me slightly. I'm drawn to things that push my beliefs. I'm drawn to things that create a feeling, whether good or bad...just that there's a feeling. I need to expand my friendship circle to include more Christians, more women and more sensitive people.

I go through this thing almost every day about moving. Sometimes it's into a commune. Sometimes it's far away from everything, with just Emmett and Mike. Sometimes it's moving away by myself, with just Emmett and not Mike. I'm continuously unsatisfied. I can't seem to get myself above water. I'm insatisable. I could cry at any second. Everything feels sad. And when it's not, I'm so SO happy because of the extreme relief. I go through a very low spot about two times a week.

I miss smoking. I've dipped back into it and have smoked about 1 cigarette a day for the past week. It's bad because I want more than that. I keep taking them from Phil and I think he knows. Today, I'm not going to take one.

Movie drama feels like

2007-06-30T08:54:00.000-04:00

the ultimate catharsis for me right now, and last night, we saw one that made me feel quiet afterward. All along, my baby is kicking inside of me, and I want the excitement to hit me. I want to want this baby.

I wish I could change my feelings.

emmett is outside

2007-06-27T12:39:00.000-04:00

in the pool we got him. He's having so much fun. Ana is watching him today and my mother is here. I have a very hard time being around my mother. There isn't anything she's doing wrong, but when she's on her brand new computer that Audrey and Josh gave her as a gift for helping them with Javin for 4 months fulltime...and when she's making plans to go back to LA, promising to be back by October 1 (the month I'm due)...Even though she says she'll help me, in some ways, I don't want her to. And I'm paying Ana to watch Emmett while my mother sits inside. Something feels wrong. (NOT about paying Ana. She's not getting a job so she can do this for me. I need her to do this. I don't mind...don't get me wrong. The juxtaposition is just weird).

I don't know what she's doing here today. I don't know what she wants from me. She swears she's going to be there when I have this baby, but I will not allow myself to believe her. Anything she does is a shock to me. I expect nothing from her ever. But where Audrey and her child is involved, I start to become resentful.

"God forgive me everything...

2007-06-24T11:51:00.000-04:00

she said, feeling the impossibility of struggling...A little peasant muttering something was working at the rails. The candle, by the light of which she had been reading that book filled with anxieties, deceptions, grief, and evil, flared up with a brighter light than before, lit up for her all that had been dark, flickered, began to grow dim, and went out forever." Anna Karenina

My feelings are beyond me. I long to not feel the things I feel. I understand the peace and harmony in dying. Not feeling the guilt. Not trying to rearrange a puzzle with pieces that simply don't fit. Not trying to figure out solutions to things that feel like understanding the concept of infinity. There is no solution to the problems I have, and as a person that feels more than other people, I am left with a lifetime of internal conflict.

I am inconsolably sad today. I can barely sit here without crying. I am so afraid of the choices I've made. I'm so afraid of the things I've given up...the things I didn't do...the passions I didn't follow. I'm afraid of spending the rest of my life in complacency. I'm afraid that I've made myself stuck, and there is no way out. I feel caged, trapped and scared. My family loves me so much and wants more than anything for me to be with them, devote myself to them and be happy with them.

I can't talk too much about this. Suffice to say, that the majority of my time is spent in a quietude of sadness -- completely alone in my mind, trying to reconcile things that can't be reconciled. I'm deeply, deeply confused.