2013 in Pictures

Before I wax rhapsodic about what I did and didn't accomplish this year, let's have the photo spam. My favorite pictures of 2013:

January
Our decision to get a vasectomy was the right one. Even if I still feel sad every time I think that I'll never be pregnant again. Because I am insane.

February
Three of the most delightful children I've ever known

March- a tie
SI and DD helping Aunt Genocide with the four questions. The first time we've had a Passover seder without my parents, and hopefully the last for a very long time

March- a tie
Grandma and Grandpa came to town for Easter, and we walked up to the chapel for services. It was a beautiful day, despite my panic fueled humiliation. 

April- a four way tie
People have told me since they were born that my kids should be models. Well, if I were going to send a picture of DD to an agency... it would be this.

April- a four way tie
I love everything about this picture. Everything.

April- a four way tie
That's one stylish guy I'm married to.

April- a four way tie
We went to New York City for my cousin's bar mitzvah... and if there's one picture that sums up everything about it that meant the world to me, it's this one- my daughter playing with my cousin, while my great aunt watches. My children had never met half of my family. Never. And of course, everyone loved each other instantly. I will never forget it. And neither will they.

May
Poppa, SI, Aunt Something Funny, and DD.
We went to Grinnell for my father to receive an honorary doctorate. It was amazing, and wonderful, and beautiful, and one of the best long weekends we have ever shared.

June- another tie
I finally got to introduce my children to my best friends, and it was magical and amazing.

June- another tie
The bride- a friend of mine for fifteen years- kidnapped my children and took photo after photo after photo with them.

July- another three way tie
We saw the Body Worlds Animals exhibit at the MSI, with our Spanish loaner teenager.

July- three way tie
DD steering the River Queen in Au Sable

July- three way tie
SI steering the River Queen in Au Sable

August
SI and DD were flower girls at the wedding of another friend.

September
DD and SI second first day of school

October- another tie
SI and DD turn four years old

October- another tie
Our family of superheroes

November
I don't care about how much happened in November. This is my favorite picture. Aunt Something Funny reading to her nieces. It just doesn't get better than this.

December
The three sweetest little girls I know.

Now- onto 2014!

Each year, I eschew the traditional "New Year's Resolution" in favor of a to-do list. But rather than a bucket list of things I want to do, I give myself a checklist every single day of simple tasks I'd like to accomplish to make my life better.

I've been doing this for years now.

I know how many paintings I painted and how many books I read, and nearly how many hours I played with my infant twins in 2009.

I can tell you ridiculously mundane details about 2010. For example, I read 21 books that year, three shy of my goal. I cooked on 239 days.

In 2011 I wrote on 321 days. I cooked even more often, and I read a whopping 28 books.

In 2012 I started focusing on more self care. I managed to eat two meals on 347 days. Yeah, I measure that.

So what about 2013?

Me, hard at work, writing a book

Goal: Wrote Daily (365)
Outcome: 293
I feel like I should be shocked I wrote so little, but then I consider what I DID write. I was published on HuffPo a dozen times. I finished a first AND second draft of an entire book. You know what? I might not have remembered to sit down and pen a haiku each day, but I'm very pleased with what I accomplished.

Goal: Ate Two Meals Daily (365)
Outcome: 336
This number went down. And while part of me wants to feel guilty that I did so poorly at feeding myself, I have to remember... I kept getting sick. I kept not being able to eat. And maybe I wasn't as good to myself as I should have been, but I feel better than I did a year ago. I feel healthier (cold notwithstanding) than I did a year ago. I'm going say I succeeded here too.

Goal: Maintained Hygiene Daily (365)
Outcome: 281
Yes, this is still totally unacceptable. But I did better than last year, horrifically enough. And every day that RH is more independent and each day that her big sisters are more interested in playing with her is a day where I can take five minutes to splash some water on my face and brush my teeth. I'm determined to bring my weekly shower average up to at least a two. I think I can do it.

Goal: Went Outside 6xWeek (312)
Outcome: 268
I know I could do better, but I'm pleased to know this number is going up. Plus, now that RH finally walks, I'm confident there are more trips up and down the stairs in the coming year.

Going to BlogHer and meeting this awesome lady?
(And lots of other awesome ladies?) Rocked it.

Goal: Had Alone Time 5xWeek (260)
Outcome: 238
I totally nailed this one. That said, I only nailed it because I enforced nap time so strictly. If this week is any indication, 2013 will bring a fairly dramatic change in nap time. Mostly, in that most days I'm not sure the big girls will take one. And that's a little terrifying. I'll have to find another way to get some time to myself.

Goal: Exercised 3xWeek (156)
Outcome: 123
Pretty damn close! Of course, the bulk of that "exercise" was grown up private time, which I recognize only counts if you're a) very athletic about it, and b) take an awful long time. So I recognize that I didn't *really* get as much exercise as I like to pretend I might have. That said, the new year will definitely have me sweatin' with Richard Simmons some more, so I'm hoping that 2014 will blow that number out of the water.

Goal: Observed Sabbath (as much as 52- but realistically closer to 35)
Outcome: 29
And you know what? That's not half bad. Considering the number of nights M and I had Friday dates, or were out of town on a Friday night... I'd estimate we lit Sabbath candles at home four out of five weeks. So I think I can do better, but I'm glad it's becoming so habitual. Which is really the point of all of this.

Goal: Finished Book 1xMonth (12)
Outcome: 9
This is where I really failed. Especially considering how many books I started. I have four unfinished books on my Kindle, and two on my shelf. If I'd managed to FINISH them I'd be really pleased with myself. Instead? I'm kind of embarrassed. This year- less WordFeud and more reading!

Goal: Made Art 1xMonth (12)
Outcome: 13
CRUSHED IT. Yes, I counted costumes and cards as "art," but let's be honest... it's a creative enterprise, and there are lots of post-modernists who would completely accept a gallery show of homemade children's Halloween costumes as a legitimate thing. So I'm taking it.


I'm only making two changes in my 2014 goals. Instead of "Made Art," it will be "Finished project." And I'm adding another one- "Sang."

It shocks me how little singing I've done recently, and I know I'm emotionally healthier when I sing a lot. So now, it's a daily to-do. So- you can expect there will be many more karaoke nights in 2014 than the last year saw.

Happy New Year, one and all!

The Persistence of Memory

DD by night
photo by Phil Forsyth

Everyone remembers their first real nightmare.

Not the garden variety bad dream, but the first time they woke up in the weird dawn light, confused and eerily quiet, and they crept out of bed with forbidden footsteps to go searching for the one person who could convince you that everything was okay.

I remember. I was about three years old. I had a dream that my father and I were walking from our house to the Children's Museum. When we got there, the door was locked, daddy couldn't open it. Then, out of nowhere, a GIANT BUMBLEBEE came zooming towards us down the abandoned street. It flew towards my father, and he batted it away. Then it rushed towards me... and I woke up.

I tiptoed down the stairs to my mommy and daddy's room, and told my mom I had a scary dream. She grumbled something about being sorry, and groaned quietly as she looked at her bedside table. Then she murmured something about it being okay, and although the feeling of unease still hovered around me, the very real presence of my very real mother made the rest of the world feel more tangible. My nervous energy from dream began to fade.

Strangely enough, she later told me that her own first nightmare was about a bumblebee as well.

Recently, began to wonder how old most children are when they have that first real nightmare. SI and DD are definitely around the age I was for mine, and their imagination play has developed to a point where a nightmare seemed pretty inevitable.

They like to pretend they have scary dreams, but their descriptions of these dreams are always the same.

"Mommy? I had a nightmare."

"I'm sorry, pumpkin. What happened?"

"There was a mean radish, and it ate up all the other radishes."

In case you're wondering, that is a near perfect description of a scene from one of their favorite movies. (Seriously- check out 4:22.) It is the only "nightmare" they know.

Until last night.

Last night, I was up writing until nearly three am. I crawled into bed and managed to pass out from sheer exhaustion, despite the weirdness of not having M in bed with me. A mere four hours later, I heard my door creak open, and the sound of suppressed crying. I looked up to see DD, bedheaded and red eyed, standing in the door.

"Whassamaddahpunken," I managed to sigh out. Not my most comforting moment, I'm sure.

"Mommy..." she said, and broke into tears. I closed my eyes again threw my arm into the air, gesturing her into a hug, and she dove into the bed. She curled up next to me and cried into my shoulder.

"Sokaysweetie... sokay.." I yawned over her, and kissed patches of forehead between the curls.

I drifted in and out of consciousness while she clutched my shoulder and whispered, "I love you," over and over again. It must have been a doozy.

With a near Herculean effort, I opened my eyes again. The sun had risen over the top of the trees across the lake, the world was full of golden tones and the sounds of birds and crickets and toads.The light glinting like diamonds off the gently rippled surface of the water was excruciating.

"What happened in your dream, honey?" I yawned again.

"Mommy... Mommy... Mommy, I dreamed you and SI went away and you weren't going to live with me anymore." And she burst back into tears.

Now I felt like the biggest jerk in the world. Here I was, totally unable to achieve consciousness enough to comfort my daughter, and her nightmare had been that I didn't love her anymore.

"Oh, sweeite..." I hugged her as tightly as I could, and scooped her under the blanket with me.

"Sweetheart, I love you so much. I won't ever leave you. I'll live with you until you're all grown up, and then for as long as you want to live with me."

"I love you."

"I love you too, pumpkin."

"Me too."

"I love you."

"I miss Daddy."

"Yeah honey, I do too..."

Eventually I managed to get a bit more of the dream out of her. She couldn't cross a road, and I took SI into a river. Something like that.

And the thing is, this is something I know she's going to remember. Forever. She's never going to forget finding her way out of her dark room, sneaking out of the bed she and SI are sharing, waking me up and my useless mumbles. She's never going to forget being scared of whatever was in that dream that frightened her so much. She'll never forget how it felt to wake up and not know if I really had gone.

I hope I managed to make it, overall, a good memory. I hope she'll remember that I rubbed her back and kissed her cheek and told her how much I adored her. I hope she remembers that after a while, SI jumped in the bed with us, and the three of us cuddled and talked about going to get Daddy at Aunt Genocide's house tomorrow, and that there was laughter and smiles and I actually kept my eyes open.

I hope she remembers how small she was, and that I was there to comfort her.

I hope there's always someone there to comfort her.

In Which Becoming SuperMommy Has An Epic Freakout

My current co-workers don't know I have plans to change positions.

The last time I had a job interview, it was 2007.

I was young, smart, sharp. And I knew for a fact I had the job before I walked through the door. In fact, the interview was purely a formality. The job had been invented for me. I knew I was going to rock it.

And so I did, and my job began.

And then M was diagnosed with brain cancer a few short weeks later, and I resigned to take care of him.

That was the last time I had a job interview.

Since then, I've gained twenty five pounds (it looks worse than it sounds), had three kids, finished my degree, and done... very little that can go on a resume.

In four and a half years, I haven't had to look professional once. 80% of my clothing have tears, rips, stains, paint splotches, or just generally look like they're falling apart. That's because they are. They are LITERALLY sewn together with bits of string, mostly by hand, in my free moments.

This is my wardrobe, people.

But the fact is, I have marketable skills. I have useful experience. I am still a totally awesome choice for pretty much any position in a non-profit- I'm awesome. And I don't have any reservations saying so. See what I did there? You totally want to hire me.

So why am I having a meltdown of doom?

Maybe it was realizing that my "interview clothes" are COMPLETELY inappropriate given my nursing related breast enhancements. Wow, it's not even cool. I mean, I look awesome. but maybe for a nice, romantic dinner. NOT for an interview.

Maybe it was realizing that I have managed to give away or toss out ALL my lipstick in the last three years. Perhaps during the great makeup cull resulting from the nail polish apocalypse. Who knows.

Maybe it was noticing for the first time in a wave of mortality realizing narcissism, "Holy crap I have a wrinkle." I know. It's absurd.

Whatever it was, I am FREAKING OUT.

Do I have pantyhose? No. No I do not.

Do I have an outfit picked out? Sort of. But yeah, it's stitched together by hand in a quick effort to look presentable, and yeah, it's partially held together by safety pins.

I am so nervous I am actually breaking out. That's right, I have a wrinkle AND pimples.

And as I panic harder and faster, as the interview draws nearer and nearer, I keep asking myself...

Is this the right thing to do for my family? For my kids? Is going back to work, now, full time, really what I want?

As though to highlight the sacrifices of childrearing that going back to work entails, my interview is forcing me to miss my kids' preschool's Passover Seder.

I'm actually going to miss something I really care about with my kids, because of work, and I don't have a job yet.

And so, I am panicking. If I didn't have littles all over the place, I would be trying on outfit after outfit, I would be obsessively rechecking my route to and from the interview. I would be putting my head between my knees and hyperventilating.

I know that the job is mine for the taking. I know that. And I also know that if my heart isn't 100% in this, if I don't go in with the confidence that this is a job I WANT, and a job I'm going to GET, I am not getting that job.

T-36 hours and counting.

Wish me luck.

Ending the Hiatus of 2012

Our final selection for our Happy Holiday card photo

Hello, dear friends and lovely readers.

I know, I haven't been around much.  Which is to say, I haven't been around at all.

It's been a hell of a season.  I wrote the first draft of a novel in November, and then...

Then came the Month Of Chaos.

We all got the flu.  We hosted two parties in two days.  We went to an outdoor wedding in Minnesota on the Mayan apocalypse.  There was Channukah and Christmas, and then I got the virus of destruction and evil, from which I am now recovering.  Slowly.

There were births and deaths and crafts and baking and disasters and delights, and despite driving through winter storm Draco RH made it through her first Christmas travel season without being in a car accident.  The streak is broken.

But as you know, all of that couldn't keep me away from you.  All of that wouldn't stop me from finding a way to tell you the stories, share the pictures, crack the jokes.

No, what's kept me away from you is the change in my children's schedules.

You see, with no school (I took them out of school while we passed around the flu, and then while we went out of town, and then because their school was on break), the children have shifted to what I would call the lazy-teenager schedule.  Which is kind of nice... kind of.  It means they sleep in until 9:30am.  Unfortunately, it also means there is no nap.

No nap.

Just saying it makes me want to cry.

And RH- she's making things worse.  No nap has its drawbacks, but it doesn't really change bedtime.  For the big girls.  But RH has decided that she doesn't believe bedtime happens before 11pm.

And that means all of my writing time is gone.  If there is no nap, and there is no post-bedtime reprieve, when do I write?

How am I writing now?

Ladies and gentlemen, today I reinstated naptime.

And let me tell you, it is fucking GLORIOUS.

I don't know if it can last, but right now, ALL of my children are asleep.  And I am hacking and coughing and reveling in how incredibly peaceful it is to be sick all by myself.

Nursery school starts up again next week, and I'm optimistic that with the return of the school routine I can keep this nap thing going.  But in the meantime, please believe me when I say that I would MUCH rather be blogging.

I will leave you, for today, with a load of photo spam to sum up our chaotic holiday experience.  I will be back tomorrow for my annual New Year's wrap-up, including best pictures and resolutions.

Happy New Year, lovely readers!  I have missed you!!!!

The first night of Channukah, RH got her first present ever.  She handled it well.

DD, me, and SI lighting the candles for Channukah, night two.

Believe it or not, these containers were so exciting that the girls slept with them for two nights.

DD is opening Annie, the result of which is that now SI sings "Tomorrow" on a loop, all day.

Day 5, the girls and I make cookies.  I think Poppa ate a whole batch by himself.

Day 6, new favorite dresses!

We had a party with some of our best friends.  RH handled being passed around by seven year olds beautifully.

The next day.  My family descends upon us with absurd numbers of gifts in tow.  The bacchanal that followed was impossible to photograph.

Rob and Kate were wed amidst much merriment and joy, despite the freezing temps and plausible end of existence.  They got the front page and THREE color photographs in the paper!

Christmas Eve- chaos reigned supreme.

Christmas morning, two hours of bliss and insanity followed by a ten hour drive.

We returned home in time to open stockings at home with Aunt and Uncle Texas, who RH took to immediately.

And last but not least, Santa stopped in to see how the girls were enjoying their Christmas presents.  Thanks, Uncle Robot!

And that, dear readers, is mostly what we've been doing.

It's been a hell of a month.  It's been a hell of a year.

Here's to starting a new one.  :)

A Day in the Life of Yours Truly

You're about to witness this... and more!

I realized that I haven't done a Day in the Life post in... years!  Can you believe I've been a parent long enough that "years" can actual describe a span of time within my parenthood experience?

Anyway... here you go- from dawn until well after dusk, yesterday.  So now you will know all about the insanity in which I live.

I slept late.  Perhaps this was because I hate mornings, or perhaps this was because the previous day's fast had given me a raging migraine, which I had treated with ample quantities of codeine before bed.  In either case, the moment M left for work, all three children woke up simultaneously.  It was like magic.  I crammed a marzipan banana into my face (if it's candy that LOOKS like fruit, it's pretty much fruit, right?) and went off to collect my children from their beds.

As RH seemed content to look at her mobile (based on her happy coos over the monitor), I started with the big girls.

RH was happy all right.  She watched her big sisters trash her room while I made their breakfast- green eggs.

While the girls *allegedly* ate their eggs, I made their lunches for school.  RH let me know that she was done cooperating, and it was time for her to eat too.

I took her into the living room to feed her, while the girls *allegedly* ate their eggs.  DD came into the room, and announced that she had finished.  When I told her to bring me her empty plate, she returned to her chair to finish her meal.  SI then came running, insisting that she had finished her meal.  Smelling the freshest bullshit, I sent her back to finish her eggs, warning her that little girls who don't eat breakfast don't get to go to school.  I finished feeding RH.

Surprise, surprise, SI had NOT eaten her eggs.  Thereafter followed a bout of shouting and threats not to take her to school, while DD got cleaned up (having finished her delicious eggs like a rock star) and picked out her clothes.  SI got dressed in a hectic rush, and as per usual, we didn't get out of the houes until the children were already supposed to be at school.  Which SI got to go to anyway.  Because I'm a softie.

The girls' school is near the synagogue, so I took the opportunity to stop in and learn about the Sukkot happenings this year.  My children, as usual, went running into their preschool classroom and didn't look back at me once.  I enjoy this every bit as much as I thought I would.

In her typical fashion, RH spent the time in the car spitting up stuff that looked like curdled cheese.  First order of business when we got home, a change of clothes for her.

My first form of sustenance after my marzipan banana.  And, I believe, a full third of all the liquid I imbibed during this day.  I'm terrible at adulthood.  While I drank my juice, I pounded out a few hundred words about Mitt Romney.

After my daily blogging-for-pay, I fed the baby again.  I've been in the process of putting the nursery together for the last month, and it's finally getting close to done.  Only two things left, and then you'll even get a blog post about them!  At any rate, this is probably my new favorite spot in the house.

RH nursed herself to sleep, and I put her in her crib to enjoy the rarest of mommy pleasures...

That's right, bitches.  I got to take a SHOWER.  What you may not know about mothering preschoolers is, if you wish to take a shower while they are home and awake, you are actually going to perform "The Shower Show."  I do not like performing The Shower Show.  Too many questions asked of the performer.  After my shower, I changed shirts (accidentally dropped the old one in what appeared to be a small puddle of toddler urine- oops) and then did laundry.  For a whole hour.

My first *real* food of the day.  Breakfast links and raisin bread.  I'm counting it as a meal.

While eating, I read some blog posts.

After reading about all sorts of sad and happy things and scarfing down my "meal," I woke up RH, put her back in her car seat, and went to collect her sisters.

They spent the entire drive home telling me about a boy in their class.  That happened fast.  After getting home, I put away clean diapers, and SI pooped in the potty!  She got a neminem!

It being snack time, DD had an epic meltdown, caused by my insistence that she put RH's weeble-wobbles back in their drawer.  She hid in the corner behind the glider clutching them to her chest and weeping long enough for me to collect the camera from the bathroom, laugh at her uproariously, and snap this picture.  For our snack, we had Cheerios on the couch, while watching cartoons.

Well, SI and DD had Cheerios, anyway.

During the cartoons, I took care of a pointy little problem.

RH fell asleep, so I put on something else, set her in her swing...

And reaped my reward.

...and then I did more laundry.

The girls played dressups with my shoes, and colored on some paper while I folded and whatnot...

...and then RH woke up.  So we cleaned the room for a dance party!

DANCE PARTY!

Then I took some phone calls...

...lots of phone calls.  SI's speech therapist, LifeSouce, the receptionist at my doctor's office, the girls' pediatrician confirming an appointment, several junk calls, a pollster, and a neighbor.

After that, it was tummy time.  RH almost rolled over!  She was SO CLOSE!

Then we Skyped with Grandma.  And RH ate some more.  And DD and SI wreaked havoc in the living room

But then DD peed on the floor, so... you know... not her best moment.

I did dishes and made dinner for the girls while they played in RH's room.  That is to say, while they completely and utterly trashed RH's room with a combination of "Baseball" and "Five Little Monkeys," which they learned in school.

Dinner!

After dinner, the girls trashed the living room.

...while RH ate again.

A Cease Fire rally went by right down our street, which was a source of much fascination.

And then it was bedtime!  I didn't take a lot of pictures of this, as I didn't want to add any more excitement to the routine than was necessary.  But we read "The Three Kings" and "The Little Fur Family."  And then my littles crawled into their beds, and passed the eff out.

Then I ate some fudge.  I felt I'd earned it.

...and then I made a hotdish for dinner.  Because all I'd eaten had been breakfast links and raisin bread and a s'more and a marzipan banana, and I was too tired to bother cooking something complicated.  Plus, no clue when M would come home.  He was working up to a deadline, and has been putting in tons of overtime.

While dinner cooked, I put RH in her pajamas...

...and then both of us ate.

...and I caught up on some Words With Friends.

...and had some more fudge.

Joy of joys, my husband returned!  Just as he managed to leave the house the moment the children gained consciousness for the day, he managed to arrive mere moments after I had assured myself that they were all asleep.  How does he do that?

We watched some Daily Show...

I sorted out gifts arriving for the impending THIRD BIRTHDAY...

We learned some sad news that M had been following religiously...

And then we got ready to go to bed.

My exhausted husband...

We exhausted parents...

Let's do it again tomorrow.