Monday, December 8, 2014

PW: Goofus and Gallant

I am actually planning a post on life with an awesome four year old, but for now click on over for unending marital crisis.

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Now we are four

I think I'll always have that little baby in my mind when I think of how amazing she is now.  At four, LB had a friends party and loved giving out Hello Kitty plates.  Her favorite animal is the giraffe.  She loves puzzles and suddenly gone from struggling with a four piece interlocking puzzle to being able to do a big puzzle on her own.  She likes to wear sundresses, shorts, and t-shirts even as winter closes in.  When she excited she does a little running skip and jump and looks like a tiny blond fairy.  She needs mamma and mommy and her blanket "bit,"and wants to be held and hugged and kissed.  She plays babysitter, which requires a mom, baby, and babysitter: the mom goes to work, and the baby tells her not to be long, and the babysitter says mom with be home soon.  She likes daycare as long as she doesn't have to stay to late in the afternoon.  The other parents say she is always sunny and happy.  She likes to watch Frozen and Babe.  She's memorized Richard Scarry's Bunny book, and it is the cutest thing ever to hear her say "Angora rabbits have soft cuddly fur."

Monday, November 3, 2014

Preemie Memories

November is Prematurity Awareness month, for what it's worth.  In my writing class, I did an exercise describing an object with sentimental meaning, and describe it for five days without looking back to see what I had written previously:

It fits in the palm of her hand.  A perfect impression, the plaster only crumbling along one edge.  How could feet that small belong to a person?  The tiny lines and creases preserved.  The plaster is grey, but the memory is pink feet.  Tiny human pink feet already scarred with needle holes.  Pink feet against a background of florescent lights, machines beeping, digital numbers rising and falling on monitors. the footprints sit in plaster, in a box, in tissue paper.

Wrapped in pink tissue paper in a closet on a shelf in a crate in another box, in another box.  “It must be in here.” Something so important must be here where it should be.  She digs past the vacuum cleaner with the canister that crashes off, past the wrapping paper, past the weights.  It’s not in the torn cardboard box, not in the shopping bag, but in the orange crate.  She digs, unpacks, and lifts.  Uncovered.  A tiny plaster cast of two feet. Perfect feet with lines and creases.  Like human feet, in tissue, in a box, in a box, in plaster

The footprints fit in her hand.  Gray plaster in the shape of a scallop shell, the impression of the feet creased and veined.  She imagines what she did not see.  The nurse, name forgotten, releases the side panel on the isolette.  She strokes the baby's head and moves the wires to the side.  Her gloved hands lift the baby's feet.  Deftly into the plaster and back out.  Did the nurse sing or coo? Did she rock a startled baby?  The footprints don’t remember.

Tiny footprints preserved in plaster—gray toes and lines and creases like real feet.  The real feet attached to the baby were pink and in motion, scarred by needles, taped down, glowing with a pulse ox, kicking and pushing.  The plaster feet stay still and silent.

Footprints in a scallop shell.  Tiny feet preserved in gray, toes and lines and creases, perfect and silent.  “Mama, mama, mama” four years later she doesn’t sleep at bedtime.  Dirty feet in purple butterfly flipflops as the leaves fall.  Chipped nail polish feet in motion kicking and crunching leaves.  Dirty feet thump and run overhead long past bedtime. Plaster feet stay wrapped in tissue paper in a box in a box in a closet.

Sunday, November 2, 2014

The giraffe doesn't fall far from the tree

LB was a giraffe in a sea of Elsas and it was good. We went trick or treating on historic Benefit street, more for the adults than the tired child, but she was still charming, and said all the things she was supposed to say to strangers who gave her candy.

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

"The cold never bothered me anyway": a post brought to you by Wonderful Wednesday

LB has declared herself for Team Frozen and she also has decided that she only wears sundresses despite it being October in New England.  I can't say I've been very gracious about the situation, but I'll admit she's cute.

I bought these Dr. Marten's chelsea boots and I think I'm in love.  These are by far the butchest item of clothing I own, and since I was wearing a pink coat and red shoes and coming dangerously close to twee, that's probably a good thing.  Also I walked three miles while wearing these and suffered only a vaguely worrisome numbness in one foot, no bleeding blisters like back in the day.

Today was blustery, but LB and I got to school and back home okay with only some light rain and strong wind.  Now it's raining like crazy with thunder and lightening and it's very cozy to be in here and not out there.

Sometimes I feel happy, sometimes I feel sad.  This past weekend was great.  I had a friend in town and Providence appointed herself very well.  The weather was lovely, the city was charming, the food was good, and the conversation was excellent.  One of the best things about my current situation, has been checking back into friendships, rediscovering what kind and interesting people I know and how much I enjoy their company.

Thanks for the prompt Amanda

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Fun with Children

Just to keep it real, LB is intermittently shrieking as I write this post.

It was a good LB weekend.  It didn't start that well when B rolled in at 11:30am from where evs'* after planning that we would have family breakfast and get an early start for the pumpkin patch.  But we saw it through and did our duty to our child, and ate some New York System hot wieners for our troubles.

We went to PRONK, which was great!  I think last year, LB wouldn't have been into it-too loud and weird.  But this year she didn't want to leave and we even got to march for a bit.  Next year we'll follow the parade downtown and watch some of the performances.

LB has been playing a game I call in my head "Ebola Clinic." It involves patients with tummy aches who are moved by cart to a hospital made from a converted shed and then locked inside.  When Fisher Price comes out with their own Ebola Clinic, don't say I didn't warn you.

And of course there was the obligatory pumpkin patch.  Amazingly we have pumpkin patch pictures for every year beginning when LB was in utero.  This year's trip was a good one.  LB ran around like a real child.  She scavenged animal feed off the ground, and had strangers sharing with her, and then tried to convince the strangers to feed the llamas.  We bought her an ice cream cone filled with animal feed and she actually fed it to a goat, and it was amazing.

LB still has her shrieking, screaming, annoying times, but we've been getting along so well.  Maybe I can only handle one source of angst in my life at a time, and right now it's not LB.  It's also easier now that she can talk more and tell me what's wrong (even if it's totally irrational).  Good times.

*In this phase of our separation she is free to spend her nights as she pleases....not going to rant....about anything...