“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity.”Gilda Radner

Wednesday, February 2, 2022

Seven Years Gone

 It has been seven years since we lost her.


We say that..."lost"...like we think the person has gone missing, and we can search, and perhaps find them.


My grandmother passed away. Painfully, unfairly, much sooner than she should have. I was there. I saw it, and have since felt the hole left by her absence.


In spite of that, I haven't stopped searching for her. When I walk into church (much more rarely these days, I admit), my eyes scan the space for her. At birthday parties, the back of my memory listens for her laugh, or her upbraiding comments she never thought anyone would blame her for. In doughnuts served after dinner, I hear her say, "they're fat-free." In a dozen tomatoes, "tomay-tas," I wonder if I could get them for a few less dollars. When I see an ice cream stand, I say to myself, "Shall we get a custard? A Dilly bar?" Fucking Dilly bars. When I yell at my mischievous, pain-in-the-ass dog, I swear her voice comes straight out of me. But in all the searching, all I find are memories and her absence.


When things are really, really bad, as they sometimes are, my whole self aches to feel the hug that only she could give. She was a bodybuilder for God's sake. How many people's grandmas lifted weights? Ran marathons, did squats, pumped iron? It didn't save her from cancer, but it made her the best goddamn hugger who ever fucking lived. And I miss those hugs. And everything in me searches for them on the bad days. 


Here's the way it has worked out for my family: We live on. Not just because it is the human thing to do, but because it's who we are. We are a collection of individuals who seek the joy and the adventure and fun that every day brings. I bet my sister or my mom might not see themselves this way, but it's still true. We live our lives to the brim, and are discontent to do otherwise. We get angry, we laugh hard, we cry. We blame, we fight, we share. We laugh! Did I mention how we laugh, 'til our stomachs hurt and we're wheezing like idiots? Our days are full of special wonderful moments, most of which overlap like a great big tapestry of crazy and good.


But then suddenly, after some indiscriminate amount of time, we find ourselves searching for Grandma again. It's not always conscious, and it'll be an odd moment. We realize that she isn't here, and more, that she's been absent for so long. There are a few blinks, a few, "What would she say to us now?" or "Remember what she said then?" and then a realization that we are something else now. We have grown into a different world and we are a different group that has learned to adjust. There is no more Truscott Terrace. We haven't had her meatballs since Christmas 2014. No more, "How much were those tomay-tas, San?" "How much did we pay for gas?" 


About a year ago, I couldn't sleep. It was the middle of the night. I was stressed about my job, Covid, and, oh, probably everything. I wasn't looking for anyone, I just felt lost and alone. And then something happened. I wasn't even searching, but I swear to you, as I began to cry in the dark, loneliness of night, invisible arms came around me and gave me the best fucking hug I'd had in years. 


In all the "living on" we do, I guess she's not lost after all. She's still here. Just different. I can't say, "She didn't get to know Max," or the twins, or Donald Trump as president. I can't say she never got to see the world in Covid, or me with grey hair. Because I'm sure she does see it, even if I don't always see her. 


I don't know everything, or how it works for other people. But I'll tell you one thing.


I sure could use one of those fucking great hugs.







Saturday, October 30, 2021

Fight the Dragons

 For a long time, my son Noah was the topic of choice on this blog. His little-boy antics made people laugh, hug their hearts and own babies. It made me happy that he could do that for others, especially because he's been a fireball of passion and feeling since before he was born.


Noah is now thirteen years old. Today, he is at a local high school preparing to make a decision that is the most important one he's ever faced. My little boy, facing something so big. I guess he's probably not so little anymore, but when I look at him, I still see him that way. And I think...my little boy deserves a lot more credit than anyone seems to realize.


He's an actor. Probably anyone reading this knows that already. A few years ago, he was in a show called Big Fish. It bears repeating (a million times) that this show changed Noah's life, and the lives of each person living in my house. It is about fathers and sons, husbands and wives, and most of all, the magical power of making your life the adventure it deserves to be. This is actually the heart and soul of who we are, my little family of five, and always has been, and it was an amazing experience to see it unfold on a stage the way it did. Even better that Noah was a part of it.


I can't help but think back right now to a particular song from Big Fish. In "Fight the Dragons," the father tells his son about the challenges he's faced, and continues to face, within the metaphor of battling one's own dragons every day. Today, Noah is trying to decide what high school he will attend. I know in a lot of families this isn't even a factor, but in ours, it's a big one. My husband was gifted the same choice, and has always credited much of his identity to the strength and character he built from it. The school he chose was a brotherhood, and he deeply wishes for that same experience for his sons. The trouble is, Noah isn't sure if it's going to be the right choice for him. 


I don't think parents can help but have preconceived notions about who their kids will be, or the choices they should make. It can be crushing to see your child reject what you want for them, especially if you believe--hard--that you're right and they are wrong. I mean, after all--they're kids, right? We're the parents, we know best. But once in a great while, the line between us knowing better, and them being their own person is a fine one. It can feel impossible to know if we are doing the right thing. The words "What if...?" never seemed so crucial.


And in this case, two hearts rest on this fine line. Noah's and his dad's. I'm a mom and a wife who can offer support and love, but I can't do much else to help. That's tough, too.


So I'm doing a pretty useless thing here, listening to the words of "Fight the Dragons," and knowing how much Noah and his dad love each other. I'm also thinking back rather specifically to First-Grade Noah. A small boy who, one winter's afternoon, had an accident on his school bus. It slid on ice, and Noah's head whacked the window. Right at his eyelash line, the metal lip of the window cut him open. Blood everywhere, paramedics called, Mom rushes to the scene, Mom rushes him to Immediate Care. Noah's beautiful eyes...what will happen, what will happen. Like a miracle, it was his eyelid, not his eye. They literally glued him up, and sent him home to heal. It was scary and traumatic for him, but it was also a day many people rushed to love him and let him know he will always be safe and cared for. It should have been something that was over and became a memory, maybe even a nice one.


It didn't end like that. Due to a mishandling of things at his school, Noah ended up being punished the next day for not having his homework done. His doctor's note for gym class was lost, and he was made to play hockey with his injured eye. When I rushed to defend him and demand answers, every parent's fear came true. My legitimate concerns were brushed aside, and the adults involved took their disgruntled reactions out on Noah. 


Sometimes, without anyone meaning for it to happen, disgruntled people take something that should be small, and let it fester and spread. A whisper here, "It's not my fault," and a quick reaction there, "Noah, why are you so much trouble?" becomes a louder opinion than anyone realizes. And for a child in a small school, it can become a different kind of preconceived notion altogether. And it can hurt them. For longer than just one school year.


By the time Noah was in fifth grade, standing on a stage at Shea's Smith Theatre in Buffalo, singing, "...let's fight the dragons..." with an amazing new theatre family who showed him the same love his real family feels for him, school had become a dark place for him. Standing on that stage, Noah finally felt like he could be the hero of his own story...thanks to something astonishing that happens in theatre. People from all different worlds come together and create a brand new world. They take something totally made-up and make it real for everyone there. They made it real it for Noah.


To the cast and crew of Big Fish, thank you for putting magic in Noah's heart. Thank you for reminding him that he matters, and that not just his parents think so. Thank you for showing him he truly can be and is a hero, not a dragon. You rekindled the fire inside him that was there when he was born, but was in danger of going out. You'll be glad to know that we switched his school--again, quite a massive decision for parents to make, but boy--did it make all the difference.


And now, here we are. Noah will go to a new school, and he and his dad and I want so much to make sure it's the best place to help him keep on HEROING through his life. A line from that song--the last line, in fact--rings on repeat in my head. "So I'll fight the dragons...'til you can." Four years from now, when Noah is getting ready to graduate from high school, I hope we will look back on today and it will be a nice memory that reminds him how much we've always loved him. But right now, I just hope that he and his dad both realize they are fighting this dragon together.


Monday, January 27, 2020

10 Tips When Your Child is a "Puker"

The most important thing a good parent needs to remember is that nobody knows their kid better than they do. Natural instincts factor in, but more than that, you are the one who has seen your child through every bump, scrape, and illness. You know how they respond to shots, teeth, ibuprofen, and strawberries. You know what breakfast foods settle their stomach on the day of a big test.

No matter what the general rules are, you know what exceptions exist for your child.

Case in point, two of my three children are "pukers."

As infants, Joey and Max suffered from acid reflux. After three months of colic, Joey settled into what his pediatrician referred to as being "a happy puker." My chubby boy would sit in his toys, jolly music playing or the TV on in the background, and about twenty minutes after eating his tummy would erupt and regurgitated milk was everywhere.

No matter what I tried, all of his white shirts were ultimately stained brown at the collar and often down the front. Needless to say, those never made it as hand-me-downs to Noah.

Max, on the other hand, was a decidedly unhappy puker. From the first week he came home from the hospital, he struggled to eat at all. After a (very emotional) few weeks, the pediatrician hugged me and prescribed him medicine. Without that medicine, I don't know if Max ever would have eaten or slept as an infant.

Perhaps infant reflux is something lots of babies grow out of. Mine did not. No, they don't explode after every meal, but I find that this predisposition to overly acidy tummies manifests itself in other ways.

Stressed?

Puke.

Headache?

Puke.

Too much ice cream?

Puke.

Dehydrated?

Yup, you guessed it.

Here are 10 truths I've learned to accept as part of my general reality:

1. Ginger ale should be on hand at all times. Key words: TINY SIPS.

2. The difference between just a normal bout of the pukes and an actual GI virus can be determined by the acceptance/desire for ginger ale.

3. Dry cereal is a great go-to for settling things after a bout of vomiting.

4. Oyster crackers are a close second, but a gentle beverage is necessary (tiny sips!).

5. Hydrating is a great way to head off a later bout of the pukes.

6. If a headache is coming on (and whether or not it's connected, both Max and Joey are prone to migraines), treating the headache early can prevent stomach upset.

7. Keep their bowels healthy and regular. If they throw up, it's one of the first things I question: when is the last time you pooped?

8. On a hot summer day, avoid acidic fruits and spicy foods. Hydrate with water and popsicles. Monitor them while swimming; they become dehydrated more quickly than other kids. (I suspect this is due to the high level of acid/pH of their tummies.)

9. If they say they feel nauseated, teach them to go to the bathroom immediately. It's not a drill! Kids who are prone to puking will throw up at least 85% of the time. Keep a stool in there for them to sit on, and bring them ginger ale. Do not just sit on the couch to "wait and see."

10. Other people will judge your parenting and your child(ren). They will roll their eyes and assume that you have somehow encouraged your child to vomit. As the person who must CLEAN UP, you know this is not the case. However, other people's opinions of you are not your problem. Even when it's difficult, try to close your ears to this negativity (because seriously, you're dealing with pukers so you don't need that $h!t).

Do all children vomit due to any/all of these causes? Probably. But my truth is that someone is throwing up in my house at least once a week, and it's not due to illness. It has been a long haul for me to accept this, but also a kind of relief. Once you know this is just part of who they are, it's easier to just relax, follow the routine, and help them through whatever the trouble is (today).

Monday, October 21, 2019

A Special Birthday


I don't blog often anymore for a multitude of reasons, most of which don't matter right now. Some that do: I'm tired, I'm busy, and there isn't time.

But I realized after school today that I'm having an anniversary of sorts, and it seemed right to honor it. At first, I thought I might be too tired, but then my youngest son asked me a question.

"Mom, is it almost my birthday?"

For years birthdays were a terribly big deal to me, and rest assured I insist that my own should be made one. However, as life marches forth I do find that the piles of gifts are smaller and the parties are more dreaded. Birthdays can be sad.

But this face was decidedly not so.


Inspired, I clicked through a few pages on Facebook and came across a photo representing where I stood six years ago. Exhausted, busy, and very, very heavy--and I only had a small amount of hours left to go.



I have told anyone willing to hear how hard my life is. (Sorry not sorry--you must've looked vulnerable and/or receptive.) But when I looked back at this photo of myself, something clicked into place for me.

In six years, what an enormous lot has changed.

I have suffered more love lost in these years than in my entire life put together. My grandmother, my grandfather, my beautiful cousin. I've traveled and seen things and even fought for things I never thought I'd be brave enough to do. Italy and New York and publishers. New Orleans as many times in one year as we could afford. Disney World. I was even, for one bright moment, an actress.

I asked my older sons if they could think of any significant change our youngest has brought. "We MOVED HOUSES!" they cried. "We built an entire house!"

"We lived with GRANDMA." (This from Joey, with some chagrin.)

"We're in THEATRE!" shouted Noah. "We're ACTORS!"

My goodness. Yes.

Somehow, the advent of a small person turns a whole family upside-down. Diapers and night-feedings, milestones galore--never an easy road, but so much harder when you're starting new after believing it was over. I drove my son and his date to a high school homecoming dance on Saturday night, then came home to tuck in my kindergartener. To say things are spread thin is an understatement.

But this little person...does he trail pixie dust? Because whatever is going on, and no matter how tired I am, this person is always smiling. His eyes are lit, his voice is going (at full volume, never-ending, God help me). He's something, my youngest. Anyone who knows him will laugh to hear me say, "He's a character." Yes, indeed. A different one every five minutes, with the largest personal collection of costumes I've ever seen--on top of his own YouTube channel and a TikTok account with more followers than a kindergartener should have.

I can say my life is harder because of my children, and not be ungrateful. It is harder. But I will also say without a doubt in my heart that none of the things I cherish now would exist without these three people.

And certainly, I cannot imagine how I could have survived the last six years without true magic...my bit of pixie dust. Maximilian, you burst into our lives unexpectedly. You were a bomb that blew us to magic bits, and a catalyst that pushed us forward into a brand new adventure we never knew was coming.

Maximilian...Greatness.

 



His birthday surprise: a tree of costume hats, wig stands, and twinkle lights. Because I know how to handle greatness when I see it.



Monday, June 17, 2019

Texting My Child

Noah and I have recently discovered a common interest. We love searching unique houses on Zillow. I've recently had surgery and haven't been able to do much. When I found one particular house on the border of New York and New Jersey, I immediately texted it to Noah. This is the conversation that followed. It nicely demonstrates why he's an amazing human. You're welcome for the story, and for bringing Noah to the world.

Me:
I CAN’T EVEN BELIEVE THIS PLACE!!
Noah:
WOAH!
Me:
It has its OWN lighthouse!!
Noah:
It’s like a castle-mansion mix! And 
        also a pool and lighthouse? AWESOME!
Me:
It was built in 1910!
Noah:
SO OLD!
Me:
And there are like 5,000 staircases. 
I don’t even understand.
Noah:
ok. They don’t have 5000.
They have 4999
Me:
😂
Noah:
🙄 
Me:
Ok. Listen.
It has its OWN STATUE OF LIBERTY.
Get.
OUT.
Noah:
Wait. Where is it?
Me:
In the yard. Don’t be ridiculous.
There are also floor plans!
Noah:
No
The house
Where is the house?
Me:
Between NJ and NY
Noah:
K
Noted
I’ll remember these houses, so that one 
        day I can buy one
IT WILL BE AWESOME
Me:
Or build it.
Noah:
ooooooh
Interesting 
Me:
And I will live in a secret cave in a secret 
location on the property.
Even you won’t know where I am. 
I will be Super Creepy Mom.
Noah:
I can use ideas from previous houses 
        to make my own
Me:
Yes. But please have a castle. It’s what 
every mother wants for her child.
Noah:
😂
It’ll be castle-like
Maybe a tier or two...
Me:
You’ll have to have two or it will just look stupid.
Noah:
No. Not tiers... TOWERS
Me:
Honestly, Noah. You can’t run around 
one-towered and expect anyone to 
take you seriously.
Noah:
TWO TOWERS ON EACH SIDE
mhmm
And...
Me:
The Statue of Liberty, of course!
Noah:
Uhhh
Me:
Except it will have my face.
Noah:
Mom that’s too expensive 
Weirdo
Me:
Whatever. I’ll pay for that.
Noah:
Oh
Then yes
Me:
What am I saying? It would lead 
straight to my lair. Never mind.
Noah:
It’s not weird anymore
Because it’s yours
Me:
I have to admit, you’d look handsome 
on a Statue of Liberty.
Noah:
I’d have a goldendoodle statue
Me:
of liberty?
LOL
Can you just see Bizzy?
Noah:
That’s fifty feet tall
Me:
With a little crown and a torch?
And a book of course.
Noah:
Haha
Me:
He’d look so regal.
Noah:
I will definitely note all of that
Me:
Good call.
Noah:
But I’d need a glass elevator
Like Willy wonky
Me:
lol
Noah:
Haha
Me:
wonky
Noah:
Willy wonka 
Me:
Also, you should have an astronomy tower.
Noah:
Mhmm
Me:
That seems important.
Noah:
Yup
Me:
And GOATS!
Noah:
No
Horses
Me:
Forget it.
The whole thing is off.
Noah:
Those are majestic though 
Me:
It’s goats or nothing, man.
Noah:
Goats are all beheh, and horses 
        are like BOOM
Me:
We’ll have our own special hair-
dressers hired to style the goat beards.
Different colors, lots of braids.
Noah:
NO 
Me:
And beads.
Noah:
NO
Me:
Over here (she said in a British accent, 
which we’ll need) we have Tippy, our oldest goat. 
You’ll see his beaded green beard.
Noah:
OK
I want Tippy
Me:
We can have contests with the goats.
OMG
Noah:
And one named Copernicus 
Me:
Goats against PIGS!
Noah:
Yes
Yes yes
Me:
Copernicus is so a pig’s name.
Co-pig-a-cus
Noah:
What?
No
Me:
Did you say it out loud? It’s perfect.
Noah:
Pig-puns are overrated 
Me:
It’s…NOT a pun.
It’s just good sense.
Noah:
No
The pig will be named Waddles, and that 
        is final
Me:
There’s more than one pig.
Noah:
No
Just one pig
Me:
You can’t name them all Waddles, or you’re racist.
That’s just mean.
Noah:
And two goats
Me:
But…how will the contests work?
Noah:
One goat is Tippy, and the other is Copernicus.
They all race each other
Me:
What color is the beard of Copernicus?
(and btw, Waddles will defy all odds and 
be an undefeated winner)
Noah:
He only has a red mustache, and yes, 
         Waddles will win, because we will give 
         him a jetpack 
This is the future we’re talking about.
Me:
Noah, that sounds made up.
Noah:
Nope
Me:
Try and be realistic.
Noah:
We’d obviously teach him
Me:
Fine, but not before we all learn 
Pig Latin together.
Noah:
Aren’t we doing that this summer
??
??
????
Me:
I don’t want to start before Waddles is BORN!
That’s not fair.
Noah:
Umm
😐 
Fine
😐 
Me:
Good talk, man. I think we have a solid plan here.
Noah:
Mhmm
More info in your next spy message
THIS MESSAGE WILL NOW SELF-DESTRUCT


Wednesday, June 5, 2019

When the Dentist Asks Questions

Max was referred to a pediatric dental specialist because has unusual decay along his bottom teeth. While the dentist and pediatrician (kindly) attributed this to the acid reflux Max has had since infancy, this new specialist decided to interview Max for more answers.

The dentist (who, it must be noted, was charismatic and delightful): So, Max. Do you watch the Buffalo Bills?

Max (rolling his eyes): Only in real life.

The dentist: Oh! Only in real life. Well, okay. So I looked at your teeth and I talked to your dentist. Do you know why?

Max: Well, I'm a kindergartener now, so I'm guessing it's because I had a growth spurt in my teeth.

The dentist: Aha. So...you're a very bright light bulb, aren't you.

Max: I did just graduate Pre-K.

The dentist: Oh! That's nice. I have a question for you. Do you eat a lot of candy?

Max: YES.

The dentist: I thought you might. And, I'm just thinking here, but...you're awfully handsome and pretty smart. I bet people really like giving you candy.

Max: Yes.

The dentist: Are your grandparents in town?

Max: My dad is not.

The dentist: ...Oh? Okay...?

Me (attempting to intervene): His dad is just out of town for work for a couple days.

Max (jumping right back in): He brings me presents.

The dentist (chuckling): I see. What's your dad's job?

Max: I don't know.

(The dentist turns to me expectantly, but I don't know either because my husband does mysterious accounting work that eludes most people. I explain this, stupidly.)

The dentist (realizing I'm a lost cause and turning back to Max): But are your grandparents here in town?

Max: Well, yes. They are.

The dentist: Okay. Let's use our imaginations. If you and I were standing outside your grandma's house RIGHT NOW, and I told you I'd give you TEN DOLLARS to run in the house and grab me some candy, could you do that really fast?

Max: YES.

The dentist: You'd know right where to find it?

Max: In the kitchen cupboard. I had a Snickers today.



So...I feel like the dentist got all the information he needed from that conversation. And more.

Saturday, April 13, 2019

When To Call/Text Before 7:30AM

Update: By the time I finished writing this, I was so amused and full of love I wasn't annoyed anymore. Text if you need me.

Reasons It Is Acceptable To Text Or Call Me Before 7:30 AM

1. Someone we know has died. CAVEAT: Famous people, while interesting, do not count. Distant acquaintances do not count.

2. Someone we know has just given birth. CAVEAT: Famous people, while interesting, do not count. Distant acquaintances do not count.

3. It is a work day, and somebody needs a ride somewhere. CAVEAT: The ride should be required within the next two hours. Otherwise, the text/phone call can wait.

4. Someone in your household has become entangled in a sun roof and needs immediate assistance. No caveat. Please call, don't text.

5. Someone in your household has tumbled whilst running and thrust their arm through a plate glass window. No caveat. Please call, don't text.

6. You, your family, or any part of your home is on fire. Honestly, if your kitchen towel catches fire via carelessness by the stove and everything ends up fine, please text anyway. It is entertaining.

7. Someone in our family is stranded and needs help. CAVEAT: Only if I am actually able to help.

8. Someone in our family has been rushed to the hospital unexpectedly. 

9. Your house has been burgled and you are traumatized. CLARIFICATION: Don't call me for help. Call the police. I will, however, be glad to provide moral support by phone or in person.

10. Our brother has done something quirky and humorous. No caveat.

11. You are experiencing an emotional crisis and cannot cope for another second. 

12. You are reading an amazing book.

13. You need to tell me I was fantastically right about something. BONUS: Everyone else thought I was wrong and you're going to set them all straight. Definitely text.

14. You or someone in your house is sick and needs help. CLARIFICATION: If you need my help or advice, I don't care if the situation is minor or major. I will help you.

15. You want to talk about my novel.

16. You think I'm pretty and/or would like to wish me a nice day.

17. Advice about a crisis I am currently experiencing or you suspect is coming. 

18. Someone in one of our favorite books has done something amusing. CAVEAT: Quotes are appreciated.

19. Important information about my children. Compliments are acceptable.

General Caveat: If it is something that requires immediate assistance that I can provide, call/text. This does include pet emergencies. If it can wait for two hours, wait.



Reasons It Is NOT Acceptable To Call/Text Before 7:30 AM

1. Current Events. CLARIFICATION: Yes, this includes election results.

2.  Television/movie news.

3. Interesting scuttlebutt. CLARIFICATION: Even if we know them.

4. Local enterprises/entrepreneurship. Even with regard to our family's favorite sausage vendor.

5. Food/Shopping/Restaurant Concerns.

6. You are on a group text sent by Jane and are also awake. If you respond, this will also come through to Mary Pat. One-word responses/emojis are the most offensive.

7. You are replying to a text I sent you the day before (at an appropriate time).

8. Anything communicated by just an emoji.

9. Anything insulting aimed directly at me. (This is a terrible way to wake someone. Just mean.)

10. School has been canceled. I receive updates directly from our administrators and have usually known about this for several minutes.

11. You will be attending an exciting concert that is several months away.

12. You have booked a vacation to which I am not invited.

13. With regard to a purchase, you are torn between two things.

14. One of your home appliances is on the fritz.

IMPORTANT: I do enjoy these texts/calls at some point during the day. Just not when it interrupts sleep. 

ALSO IMPORTANT: If you have texted me for any of the above reasons, we are probably close and I definitely love you. Again, I just need sleep.