Twitter / atb20

Saturday, July 20, 2013

drained

things are surreal here in moosk-world. it seems as though my boss (more accurately, one of my bosses) is dying. earlier this year, he found out that he has stage 4 cancer. after an initial hospitalization, he returned home and ultimately to work. recently (on my birthday, in fact) he had a relapse, and now he is home, receiving palliative care... it's heartbreaking. not only is it desperately sad to watch someone you've worked closely with for seven years succumb (rather quickly) to cancer... someone who's always been very thoughtful and kind; but for me, it's a daily reminder of the worst year of my life. watching his family deal with this rollercoaster -- that seems to only have drops -- brings me back to my own sleepless nights of worry and tears. in some ways, i am grateful that we never really acknowledged that my mom was going to die from her cancer. sitting with someone who knows that they are dying... and with his family that knows that they are saying "good-bye" is just so painful. at the end of the day i feel as if i've been wrung-out. and then, in quiet moments, i start to think about how this is going to affect me. i may not have a job much longer. what should i do? should i look for another one? should i try to find someone else here to work for so i can keep working for my other boss -- whom i've worked for for the last 10 years? do i just throw in the towel, and say i'll stay home with my kids for the next year and see where we are then? ah... it's too much. my puny brain can't deal with the emotions and the stress and the small children who wake me up so early in the morning. anyone want to step in here and take over? ***FYI, this is an old post I finally published.*** at the time it wasn't common knowledge that my boss was dying, and I didn't want to make it public even in this quiet, relatively desolate spot on the internet. He passed away almost a year ago now, and I still have a job, so that's good. Still makes me very sad to think about him and how transient life is... but it also makes me grateful for the present.

places i'd like to go

in no particular order: - Galapagos - Fiji - Japan - Indonesia - Austria - Australia - Scotland places i'd like to go back to: - Hawaii - Amalfi coast - Ireland - Maine - Rhode Island

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

things i'd like to do

- create a radio show that explores social issues in depth
- create a new princess monopoly with princesses who do stuff (and happen to look pretty without looking like barbie)
- try improv
- read lonesome dove
- learn how to develop film
- write a parenting book (hahaha...)

Monday, March 19, 2012

comebacks are harder than they look

in my case, this is not because there's so much fanfare [crickets] or the expectations are too high [haha], but because i want to try to find my voice as i am now. when i was writing before i was in a different place in my life ("places" to be exact). in fact, in rereading a smattering of my old posts, i realized how much happened in the few years i had been keeping this blog, and it is nice to have a document of how i felt and the thoughts coursing through my head at that time. of course, i was not and will never be an effusive writer, so there is a great deal that i left undocumented and unremembered -- because of my own nature and because of the nature of the medium. (and isn't that a huge part of the craft of writing in any medium... editing... selecting the parts you want to share and withholding unnecessary or otherwise troublesome details?)

so, here i sit about to write my second blog post in 2.5 years, and i don't really know where to begin. i feel like i gave the quick run-through in my last post, and now i have to dive into the here and now. in some ways, i wonder if there is a here and now. despite my husband and two kids, i feel far from settled. four months ago we quickly departed our apartment of 3.5 years and neighborhood of 11 years for the relative unknown of tribeca/battery park city. it's a beautiful neighborhood, but it's populated by a different breed of new yorker from the upper west side. the level of wealth seems to have jumped up a notch... and there is a very large international contingent (it is not rare to hear children speaking russian, dutch, french, mandarin, or german in the playroom and some of these toddlers speak all of the above). i also noticed that the parents downtown are way "hipper" than the ones on the uws... (my use of the word "hipper" proving my utter lack thereof.) i overhear parents in black leather motorcycle jackets with precisely mussed hair discussing their upcoming concerts or webcasts over the sandbox. these are not my people. my people write scientific papers and consider a trip to the bookstore a major outing. even the schools are hipper... veronica's art school has harvey keitel on the board and yoko ono as a benefactor. her community center has a jazz trio that comes to entertain the kiddos on sunday mornings. what's an unhip girl like me supposed to do?

anyway, this post was about the unsettledness of my life right now. i sometimes feel like there is a pendulum swinging overhead that is dictating the course of my life. i try to lean one direction to get the pendulum to go where i want it to, but my leaning has no impact on the speed and length of its arc. of course, mil's medschool is the pendulum... his performance has a huge impact on my life, but i am not really in control of it. he will either pass or fail. he will either continue on and become a doctor, or he won't, and my leaning will likely have nothing to do with it. if he does succeed [lean, lean, leeeaaannn], then we have two more years in this new neighborhood before we head off into the unknown. if he does not, then it is more likely that we have a year or less of this life before we gather our things and shuttle ourselves off to less expensive pastures. so that is where i am... in a very cool, very hip, unknown.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

attempting a comeback

testing... testing... one... two...
silence.
that's ok. i'm good with silence. and i should be after two years of silence on my end. for that, blog, i apologize. much has happened in the last two years... a baby has become a girl. an egg and a sperm became a baby. we moved... but not far. other things have not changed. mil is still in medical school. i am still working in the same snug little dungeon... though for only several hours a week. my mom is still not here. and that still sucks.

life has kept me busy and far from computers for the most part. up until a few months ago, i was working ten hours per week, mostly from home, mostly while veronica napped. after a colleague left, i increased my hours to twenty and increased my lovely babysitter's hours to twenty-seven. wow. when i calculate that out, it seems like so much. though i use that time both for work and for taking veronica to a couple of classes without her little sister.

oh, right, the little sister. i must make introductions.

this little soft, snuggly bunny is violet. she's approaching eight months old, and she is pure deliciousness from her dainty little toes to her halo of hair fuzz. she is a solid eater... packing away finger foods and squeezy fruits to her heart's delight, and making a wonderful mess in the process. i wish i could say that on the second child i care less about the mess... and maybe i do, but just a little. i've discovered that i'm a bit of a control freak. i know, i know... laid-back, little ole me? it's true. i don't like watching a mess in the works. when i see movies where characters are tearing apart a room or throwing food about, i cringe. and then i think, "oh, and they had to do that so many times! and someone had to clean-up!" it's very distracting.

anyway, onto my darling little cherub. she is just a ball of smiles and giggles--not unlike her big sister. although there are a few notable differences (other than the presence of hair at such an astonishingly young age): violet has this sly little smile... she'll look at you intently, study you to discern if you are worthy of one of her sparkly smiles, and then she pinches up the corners of her mouth just a little... her eyes start to twinkle... and then it's there, lighting up the room. her grand, two-tooth smile. and you just want to scoop it up and smother it with kisses. or at least i do.

she also rolls. this is new to me. she has recently begun transporting herself about our apartment using the log-roll. i have heard of other kids using this method, but it is another thing to witness it in my own home. it creates its own set of conundrums. see, when a child rolls somewhere, she's not actually looking where she's going. she's just sort of hurling her body in the general direction of whatever it is that she wants. if there happens to be a piece of furniture or other pointy object in the way, she's very likely to find herself wedged against it... not understanding why she's not moving. it's cute, but dangerous.

anyway, i'd love to catch-up more, but i'm at work. and technically, i should be working. but i was tempted by you, blog... maybe i will be again.

Monday, February 22, 2010

not napping

so... here we are over seven months later. veronica is a completely different person than she was when i last wrote. she sits, she crawls, she pulls up on things... and it turns out she's also learned to make trouble... just for the fun of it. this morning, i was feeding her breakfast -- pears, she loves pears -- and she decided that it would be funny to squirt it back out of her mouth. you know... just to see what kind of reaction she could get. as she phbbltt pears across the table and my glasses for the fourth or fifth time, i no longer had to stifle giggles... i just had to figure out how to get her to actually swallow her breakfast. breakfast, up until now, was the easy meal. fruit and cereal... no real thought had to go into it. it's sweet, she's generally hungry, so she quickly scarfs it down. i guess i'll have to rethink that game-plan.

napping has also become quite a competitive sport. veronica and i read a few books, then i nurse her, then i put her in her crib. this used to be fine... it would lead to sleep, as it should. but then she learned to crawl... and pull up. turns out it's much more fun to circumnavigate the crib several times than it is to sleep. problem is, kid, you're tired. and mommy wants to shower. as fun as it is to watch that little bald head retreat into the distance and come back around to stare down the surveillance camera, i still have to wait around until you decide that you're actually tired enough to sit down. and even then, it's twenty minutes later until you start dozing off... often-times still sitting (and thus pass-out folded in half like a fortune cookie). here we are at the hour mark, and your just now showing signs of fading. i want to go in and encourage you to lie down, but generally my entrance just leads you to giggle... like the victor you are. i will hold strong. i will not go in. i will just continue to whisper words of encouragement through the video monitor. "sleeeeep, veronica... it's good for you."

of course, i love these little battles. i never wanted (nor expected) my kid to be too complacent. veronica is becoming her own person... and in addition to the spraying food at breakfast and fighting naps with bobbly walks around the crib, she loves to cover me in kisses and cuddles. she'll crawl after mil or me if we've drifted out of her sight, giggling as she makes her way across the slippery floor. it's spectacular. i want to savor (almost) every moment, so years from now, when she's asserting herself in more adolescent ways, i can bring back memories of slobbery kisses and giggly peaks around the corner... maybe even some peary bits streaking across my glasses.

Friday, July 17, 2009

3 months... and change

dear nica,

i meant to write you this lovely note in a timely fashion, but as you'll learn about me, i'm not especially timely. that's your father's area of expertise.



these past three months have flown by. i still can't believe i have a baby, and here you are reminding me every day... it's hard to believe that a year ago you were just a couple of cells meeting for the first time. and now you are a human being, complete with pudgy arms, thigh rolls, sparkling hazel eyes, and a smile that lights up the room (and wraps your mom a little further around your little finger).



your father and i can't quite believe our luck because not only do you exist (which is awesome!), but you are about as perfect as a little human being can get. okay, so it would be really nice to have eight hours of sleep every now and again, but if someone's going to be waking me up at 2... 3... and 4am every morning, i would pick you every time. even at 4am, i can discern your crooked little grin in the dark. happy to see me even though i can barely walk straight.

i never imagined that a little person who can't talk and can't walk could bring so much new joy into my life. and my life needed that joy. i still miss your gamma every single day... sometimes more than i did before you were born, but i also believe that she sent you here with your gurgles and coos to help heal the big hole she left in my heart.



it's hard to say what you've learned in the last few months... because it seems like so much. you've gone from being almost blind to seeing us and smiling at just about everyone who smiles at you. you've started playing with your toys... grabbing and shaking things that rattle, and trying to put just about everything in your mouth. you love bathtime... splashing around in the water so much so that we've had to move your bath from the kitchen sink into the bathtub where it belongs. you love to talk... sometimes entertaining yourself for several minutes with "gaas" and "oohs" and your new favorite "phlbbt!". you kick your legs and wave your arms about... a bit like a marionette. you have so much fun moving about and smiling and talking that you don't like to go to sleep anymore. you also love to stand. the moment you rise to your feet you get this silly grin -- like the world is yours to conquer. i hope you always feel that way -- proud of your accomplishments, but looking forward to the next big goal.

your dad and i feel so lucky to have you in our lives. you are everything we ever dreamed of... and cute, to boot!

love, ma

Thursday, July 02, 2009

so...


i've continued my delinquency. i am hoping to write a three month post for nica. we'll see. time is just flying by, and not a day goes by that i don't just stare at this munchkin and wonder how she finally made it from idea into personhood. i'm still stunned that my body made another human being, and i try to remember that every time i complain about not fitting into my pre-pregnancy clothes. my body may not be perfect, but it made a pretty d*mn-near perfect little person, so i have to love it.