Tuesday, December 23, 2008

I hope she knows...

How beautiful she is....

Inside and Out.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

There is something...

so incredibly beautiful about my daughter when she looks downward. I have no idea what it is that makes my heart stop beating and my breathing pause when I see her looking down, but it really does something to me. I think it has to do with how delicate her little face is when you can't see her big eyes. I love her face. I love her pretty lips and her pretty coloring and her pretty eyebrows. Everything about her just screams "Prett".

Thursday, September 11, 2008

It seems like a lifetime ago....

and it also seems like yesterday. For me, at least. I am sure if you loved someone who lost their life on that wretched day, you might have different feelings than I do.
7 years ago I came back from Arizona, Daniel in belly, on September 10th, very late at night. I awoke on September 11th to my phone ringing and my father in law saying a plane hit the WTC. I turned on the news just in time to see the 2nd plane hit. It was horrifying. 80 miles away, something sinister was going on. I spent the day, shell shocked, trying to get a hold of my American Airlines NY Based flight attendant friend and her Delta pilot husband. It was 4:00 before I heard from her husband and he assure me she was fine. I had spent the day running through 30 years of Polaroids in my head, my oldest friend starring in most of them. To say that hearing from her husband was a relief is an understatement. I thought for sure I had lost her and in losing her, I lost a part of my history.
That night I drove to see my mom an hour away. The sky was so blue and so incredibly empty. We live on a flight path, so this was an oddity. My mom and I went out for Chinese food. It was an upscale Chinese Joint and we were the only ones there, the AM radio piped in, feeding us one more horrifying news story after another.

My grandmother called me that night. Our conversation was bizarre. She never mentioned the attacks, though she lived 20 miles from them. All I could think was that it must be nice to be oblivious to what is going on- I can't wait to get old.

It seems like no one really remembered this day this year. It makes me sad. It will end up just being like December 7th. No one remembers what important thing happened on December 7th anymore and 2400 people lost their lives that day, 600 shy of how many lost their lives on 9/11. I don't think the people who lost loved ones at the raid on Pearl Harbor ever would have thought that hardly anyone remembers "the day that will live in infamy" 67 years later.

People might not remember this day in 60 years, but if I am alive, I sure will. Because 9/11, to me, was the first time I really realized how charmed life as American has been and I suddenly felt(and still feel)like that sense of security, the arrogance of entitlement is gone. Maybe the latter was a good thing, but it's hard for me to see anything good having come out of that mess. I am sure the victims and their families see it the same way.

2 weeks ago we walked the Brooklyn Bridge and then went by the WTC site. You can;t see in it anymore as construction management companies have obstructed viewing, which is puzzling to me considering that in the months post 9/11, it was an open observatory for the morbidly curious. When we were at the site, I saw a soccer team there posing for team pictures. Like they were in front of the Taj Mahal or White House, not where people dove from fir blazing offices 80 stories up to their terrifying deaths. It all seemed so macabre, so thoughtless, so disrespectful.

Mike's flying home tomorrow. As much as I want to see him, I am glad it is not today.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Am I the only one....

Who thinks Michael Phelps has the body of an adonis?
Good God.

Friday, August 8, 2008

and to think....

I felt insulted when a bride whose wedding I was in was particular about what color under garments we wore.....

Saturday, August 2, 2008

Sometimes I feel like an awful person...

but this is not one of those days.
My MIL made her usual 5 calls before noon on a Saturday today. Most of the time I let it go to voice mail and today was no exception. I think only speaking with her once a day is quite sufficient. I am convinced that to the elderly, the phone becomes a weapon.
Anyway, most of the messages involve some crying and desperation. She never addresses me in the messages, just Mike *or if she can't remember his name at the time she calls, he becomes a sibling*. Most of the calls frankly, annoy me and I feel bad about that (at times..not when she wakes my kids up right after I get them to sleep). Today's last message actually made me sad. It was thundering our and the message she left was awful. She told us that she had no electricity and that she was sitting in the hallway crouched in the middle because she was so scared of the storm.
How. Does. That. Not. Make. You. Feel. Sad? Standing in the hallway, scared of the storm is something a pet or a small child would do, not an adult. It made me sad to think how incredibly terrifying the smallest things must be to her, living alone.
So, despite the fact that I have 50 people coming to my house tomorrow for my sister's 40th and my grandfather's 98th, I told Mike to go get her, trying really hard not to direct some anger towards his useless brother who lives down the street from her and has not seen her since the last time he took money from her a few months ago.
So, she has been here all night. At one point, I was sitting on the couch, painting Caroline's nails and she just stood there and stared at us for 10 minutes, right in my personal space. I am claustrophobic to begin with, so the crowding almost made me crawl out of my sin.
Tomorrow I asked her to wash windows. At least it will keep her out of my space. Plus, they are pretty dirty.

Monday, July 28, 2008

Hate filled diatribe


Please put one hand over my shoulder and one hand over my mouth....

I saw that today on a billboard outside a church...I think it was apropos considering...

I can't stand my MIL's situation anymore...
I can't stand that my entire weekend is always spent with her.
I can't stand the person I become when I am around her.
I hate that I tense up the minute I know we are picking her up or that she is in my presence.
I hate that I find myself being mean to her when mean is just really not an adjective I usually associate with myself.
I hate that my husband feels guilty if she is all alone, so he arranges to go pick her up and then dumps her on me while he works in the yard or goes running while she literally stalks me in every room I am in, repeating the same things every 60 seconds to me with no recollection that she has said them.
I hate that I look like a meanie to my kids who constantly want to know "Why doesn't Grammy just move in with us?"
I hate that she makes my son feel like he is responsible for her by saying "I'm all alone all day, wouldn't you like to spend the day with Grammy rather than go to school (ummm Camp. Get with the program).
I hate that I can't stand to even go in her house because it smells so bad and I hate that I can't sit outside her house it is such a dump that I feel guilty that we don't do enough.
I hate that she brings that smell with her to my house, which means extra laundry and cleaning for me on Sunday nights.
I hate that she cries all the time, even when she is with us.
I hate that I once loved to spend time with her and now I count the minutes till she goes home.
I hate that I can't just have her over for a two hour dinner because she ends up spending 2 days here.
I hate that my husband won't force any decisions until he meets with all of his siblings, which will never happen so we are in limbo with her.
I hate that if she is not with someone at all times, she is calling. I look at my caller id at the end of the day and she calls a minimum of 10 times a day, even if we are at work.
I hate that we do her bills now and she harasses us endlessly about them.
I hate that she refuses to let us have someone cut her lawn besides family.
I hate that she refuse to let us have groceries delivered to her house, so someone is always running to her house with milk and bread.
I hate that my husband has made me the heavy in all of this, saying to me "Well, you don't want her to move in with us" to absolve himself from guilt.
I hate that he can't see that our marriage and our family would be destroyed by her living here.
I hate that Mike has two other siblings who do jack shit and another that is in the same boat as us.
I just hate this all and I needed to vent.