It All Started With a 25 Year Old Rotting Umbilical Cord

so, my mom loves me and my sisters a lot. i mean a LOT lot. like mrs. bates a lot.

i have proof. well, i think in the forensic sciences they would more call it 'physical evidence.'

it all started a few months back while she and my sister were going through old boxes in preparation for my parents downsizing to a condo.

they came upon my sister's baby box- out of which my sister pulled what she THOUGHT was a barrette. it was not.

it was a surgical clip. attached to the remnant stump of her umbilical cord.

THE WHA-WHAT?!?

yes.

there was also bits of first haircut hair and what might have been first lost tooth (!) and old school papers and art projects and stuff in the same box.

with the umbilical cord.

well, obviously, we threw it away and then unmercifully teased my mom about this and made all kind of 'cut the cord already' jokes to my sister.

but then.

mom found mine. a 33 year old piece of rotting tissue in a similar box in a similar closet. gags and orders to vanquish were repeated.

we thought this was over. we thought, surely there can't be any more parts to be found??

and then today, i got the following text:

"found your wisdom teeth. want 'em?"

i was 18, i think, when i had them removed. i'm 33 now. so that makes these nasty things carry-the-2, add 9....really super old and disgusting.

we bantered back and forth a bit and i told her i was going public with her shame because it was TOO too good not to share. and then i made some crack about her stringing them on a cord and wearing them like a necklace. but i immediately texted her back because i felt i needed to follow up to tell her i was just kidding and she really ought not do that. it seems like that could have got unsaid, but she's the crazy lady with all the teeth and tissue hanging about, so, you know...

i love her a lot. and i kind of sort of get the desire to hang on. and the feeling that your kid is just so precious that you want to cling to every piece of them. i get that.

i gave henry so many kisses tonight at bedtime that he had to put his stern face on to tell me to stop.

i haven't kept any of his scraps, but i've kept pretty much all of his really quite bad works of 'art' that come home from school by the fists-full.

so all that is to say that i think i understand my mom more now that i'm a mom. i always really liked her, but now i especially do.

but make no mistake about it, i will never open another box in my parents home ever again.

after all, the placentas still are unaccounted for.

And Here's Where we Conclude that Having a Little Girl Was Totally Wasted on Me

i was told this week by my much hipper and more put-together coworker that i'm supposed to have coordinating Easter outfits for my children and that pictures are supposed to be officially taken.

i'm quite bad at this whole thing.

i was feeling good that we remembered that Easter was this weekend and were planning on going to church. and that we'd even considered what the wee ones might wear.

henry got a button-down shirt from my grandparents that we'll pair with khaki pants and we got him an indiglo green tie to go with it (awesome).

and anna got a beautiful velvet dress and bonnet from a friend a while back. it's just lovely.

and we checked today, and she still kind of sort of fits in it and hasn't gordita'd out the middle just yet!

so that's god. but it's still kind of cold here where we live, so i just figured i'd put a long-sleeve t-shirt onesie and some pants under her dress to keep her warm.

and then it dawned on me....tights. there is such a thing as tights in this world and little girl people are supposed to wear them to keep their legs covered under dresses and skirts and such.

balls.

i just can't. i can't make my baby child whom i REALLY like wear tights. or nylons, for that matter, when the time comes.

if she so chooses to want to put her toes, legs, crotch and torso through that kind of misery, she can do so on her own when she's old enough to speak for herself.

but my kid will be wearing sweatpants under her dress. and the bonnet will only last as long as she doesn't mind it.

and there will be pics of them, because i compulsively take them on my cell phone because i think they're the two cutest kids in the history of the world, but there won't be professional pics and there probably won't be much coordination.

and we never sought out a bunny's lap to sit on, either. a 6' tall man in a bunny costume wielding a carrot is just too TOO creepy. can't do it.

plus, like, Jesus, and stuff.

Having a Bad Week? Apply Some Anna To It, Repeat Daily As Necessary

this kid. 3 months old and sturdy and strong and precious and funny and sweet and laid-back and awesome. i just can't say enough about how great she is. we're having a ball. she's having no major probs at daycare. not loving the bottles, but when she's hungry, she eats. and they jump through hoops to make her happy. she wakes up smiling and goes to sleep drooling. and smiling.



henry is also doing well. his imagination has just taken off and so we're 'pretembering' all the time to be kings and queens, lions and snakes, and pirates. lots of pirates.

this is my 15 minutes this week that i actually get to spend with robb, so i'm going to go do that. (don't ask. long hours at work, stupidly agreed to assistant direct a play, all kinds of other obligations...) but i will write more soon.

toodles!

And Here's Why Our Cleaning Lady Thinks We're Sexual Deviants

there's nothing better than having a sparkling clean house.

or rather. there's nothing better than walking into a sparkling clean house that belongs to you but that you, yourself, did not clean.

several years ago, we started having a cleaning lady, inga (names have been changed to protect the victims), come to deep clean our house once/month. and i've come to considerate it a valuable expense that is surely cheaper than marriage counseling or jail time.

who cleaned the bathroom last time (always me) and who hasn't mopped the floors in EVER (always robb) were frequent fights before our sainted 'inga' arrived on the scene.

and she's incredibly sweet. she's from somewhere in the family of romania (#dumb #insensitive #american) and she has this custom of giving kids money the first time she meets them. i'm so awkward about having someone i pay to do work for me ANYWAY, and then she's trying to give my kid a $5 right before she washes my floors?! it made me all kinds of anxious class warrior the first time when she met baby henry, but i learned to just graciously accept it by the time she met baby anna. (she's so doggedly persistent about it, i wonder if it's a bad omen not to let the ceremony happen or something?)

anyway. this is all to say that i like her and i feel very badly that she had to find what she found today.

and it only occurred to me after robb and i were both already at work and there was nothing we could do about it.

so, this winter of forever that slowly ate our souls has been working on eating my body, too. i have eczema/psoriasis issues and the winter is the worst. plus, i'm washing my hands 1,000 times/day to keep clean for the baby, so right now my hand skin is so dry, it's cracking and breaking, bleeding and sobbing in a corner.

i've tried putting all kinds of goop on it to make it better, but my hands stay busy all day long, and it never has a chance to do any good. even over night, bandaids covering the goop over the wounds tend to come off as i'm changing the baby or stabbing at robb in the dark to wake him up so he will change the baby.

so i know i need an occlusive dressing- something to keep it covered overnight so it can at least get a few hours of moisturizing therapy.

and i work in the operating room, so when sterile gloves get contaminated or otherwise go unused, sometimes we bring them home to wear when cleaning the house and stuff (which, as we've established, i do, rarely, only when i absolutely MUST).

so, long story made way longer, this morning my cleaning lady found a surgical glove filled with petroleum jelly on my bedside table.

.......

i'm sure she's seen worse, right? i mean, i don't make her dust the sex swing or anything! she doesn't have to organize my furry handcuffs or my lubes by flavor!!

:)

poor, poor 'inga.' perhaps this year instead of just a Christmas tip, she'll get an Easter one as well. and Memorial Day...and Arbor Day....

and this is what it made me think of. and you're very welcome for the naked brad pitt in the middle of the day.

"No Matter How Many Times You Save the World, it Always Manages to Get Back in Jeopardy Again."

back to work is going pretty well. it was a crazy week, busy in the OR and then i was flown out of state for some training for a day. which took me away from my nursing 3 month old overnight. robb did great and i managed to pump and even fly home with the bulk of the breast milk i got from my udders while i was gone. i got varying interpretations about the rules of flying with large quantities of liquid from the different Delta and TSA employees, but in the end they just had to radio-activate all of the milk to be sure it wasn't a bomb, and then i was allowed to carry it on with me in my bag. so anna will probably turn into a mutant ninja animal or something, but at least i didn't have to waste all that milk.  (grrrr)

being away was harder than i expected. or going back to work and being away from her/them overnight. or a combination of the two.

i find myself wanting to protect them all the time and worrying about what might be happening to them out in the world. this is normal parenting anxiety stuff, i know, but i'm probably especially hormonal and vulnerable to bad thoughts right now, so i'm worrying about them now and in the future. i'm already dreading them being bullied at school. or broken hearted by some jerk. or God forbid, they have a medical issue or difficulty learning or, my word, it seems like every other news article is about kids being stolen and hurt in ways i can't even let myself really think on long....

i have been reading too much local news lately. the stories just make me vomit up my heart. people are hurting everywhere around us. and often in their hurt, they're hurting others.

if i'm not careful and i don't properly keep my guard up and intact, this can bring me to my knees anyway. but when i think about my kids being anywhere among those hurt or hurting, i just want to strap them to me and hole up.

it's a fine line between being 'in the know' and being crippled by what you know. while i don't want to bury my head in the sand, i also can't feel all the feels i feel and be a functional person.

i've always had this image of robb and i against the world, turning into each other for security and then, guarding each other's vulnerable sides, going back out into the world and doing what needs to be done. like this:

and now that we have some hatchlings, i want to prepare my kids for a life that won't always be easy. i acknowledge early and often in this discussion that my kids will have an easier life than most. they'll have ample good food, clean water, safe environments, good schooling. we will give them all the opportunities (that we also had) that will certainly make it easier than it is for most kids in the world, but there will be challenges and pain they'll face and they'll have to know how to handle it.

and i reflect on how i've survived the pains i've experienced; the losses, the disappointments. and it's because i built a strength over time...from surviving the losses and disappointments. it's really true that our character is developed/sharpened by the adversity we face. i don't regret the hurt i've lived through at all, it made me 'me.' but i wouldn't want to go through it again. and i wouldn't want my wee ones to have to go through it either.

and so i find myself trying to accept that my kids will face adversity that will strengthen them, make them the whole versions of themselves. but i'm also bracing myself for it. because it might be horrible for them. and for me.

so i want to give them security to always turn into us as a family for constant support. and skills to go face the world, knowing that we have their backs. like this:

this is the image i'm keeping in my head now. they will come up against hurtful, difficult things, but we'll attempt to give them the skills to survive them and the support right behind them to come back to when they need. and the long-view to see how the hard times might turn out to be the best building blocks to who they'll become.

and right now they are 2 and 0. their biggest adversaries are that little asshole at school who keeps biting henry and any time we have to stop for traffic when we're driving in the car and anna's stuck in her carseat.

one day at a time, one conflict at a time, one karate chop at a time. we'll get through it.