Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Cosmic Forces
My cat is sick. I've had this cat all of my adult life. It hurts to think of losing him. The vet is asking me what I want to do about it. She's giving me prices. She's giving me odds. I don't know what to do. I hate having to make hard decisions on my own.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Uncle Honus and Aunt Violet Turn 9
How cool is this?! My baby brother and sister designed their own birthday cakes and guess what themes they chose...math and space shuttle--that just rocks!
Birthday party or wake?
Okay, birthday party.
General goofiness
Tillie's awesome baby camo shorts and smocked tee combo--she's so hip!
Birthday party or wake?
Okay, birthday party.
General goofiness
Tillie's awesome baby camo shorts and smocked tee combo--she's so hip!
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Sack of Potillies
I've been slacking lately on the outfit documentation, so a fashion post is required. Our friend Amy made this adorable flannel sleep sack from a vintage pattern. Yes, those are pink and grey poodles!
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Cancer
Cancer is a horrible word. It sticks in your mouth. It reminds me of the clicking, creeping, pinching of crabs. I prefer the word lymphoma. Lymphoma sounds like a little shrug of the shoulders or the shuffling sound of an old man’s soft shoe dance. I know two too many people with lymphoma.
I hate to have to tell people about the cancer in my life. The conversation becomes about managing their reaction. It becomes about taking them, as quickly as possible, from my first reaction to where I am now. It’s nearly impossible to help them skip all the in between. For most, the word cancer is synonymous with dying. Right now, for me, cancer is not about dying. It’s about enduring many small, bad things. The word cancer is bigger than what my brother is going through. It’s bigger than what my friend Camile is going through. And then, it’s also as bad as what they are going through. It’s about a constant low-level anxiety. It’s about strong people feeling weak all the time. It’s about too many doctors and nurses and syringes and pills and beeping machines and sagging IV bags. It’s about stomachs turning and tiny hairs dusting every surface.
I learned about cancer in school. It’s when parts of your body make too many cells. The other parts of your body are fine. They try to go about their merry way, ignoring these hysterical and misguided over-achievers. But soon, the healthy cells have to deal with the sick ones. They are obstructed by them, squeezed by them, trampled by them. Chemotherapy is like painful tear gas let loose on a crowd--it disperses both the rabble-rousers and the innocent bystanders. The cheerful, straight-talking nurses sit you in a comfortable chair, make agreeable chit-chat, and poison you over and over again for months. The best thing you can do is pretend that the movie or the crossword puzzle or the celebrity gossip mag is way more interesting than the civil unrest of your body.
I hate to have to tell people about the cancer in my life. The conversation becomes about managing their reaction. It becomes about taking them, as quickly as possible, from my first reaction to where I am now. It’s nearly impossible to help them skip all the in between. For most, the word cancer is synonymous with dying. Right now, for me, cancer is not about dying. It’s about enduring many small, bad things. The word cancer is bigger than what my brother is going through. It’s bigger than what my friend Camile is going through. And then, it’s also as bad as what they are going through. It’s about a constant low-level anxiety. It’s about strong people feeling weak all the time. It’s about too many doctors and nurses and syringes and pills and beeping machines and sagging IV bags. It’s about stomachs turning and tiny hairs dusting every surface.
I learned about cancer in school. It’s when parts of your body make too many cells. The other parts of your body are fine. They try to go about their merry way, ignoring these hysterical and misguided over-achievers. But soon, the healthy cells have to deal with the sick ones. They are obstructed by them, squeezed by them, trampled by them. Chemotherapy is like painful tear gas let loose on a crowd--it disperses both the rabble-rousers and the innocent bystanders. The cheerful, straight-talking nurses sit you in a comfortable chair, make agreeable chit-chat, and poison you over and over again for months. The best thing you can do is pretend that the movie or the crossword puzzle or the celebrity gossip mag is way more interesting than the civil unrest of your body.
Monday, June 09, 2008
She Creeps
Tillie isn't crawling just yet, but she can get from Point A to Point B given an incentive. Boy does she like daddy's pens!
Success...Wait...Yes, Success!!
I did the triathlon yesterday (half miles swim, 13 mile bike, 3 mile run), and I did it without stopping. Here are my results:
Swim (21:27) Bike (48:33) Run (39:28)
Final Time with Transitions (1:59:05)
Overall Rank (1021st out of 2592)
Under two hours—hooray! I’ve certainly had better results in the nearly a dozen times that I’ve done this race, but this time the stakes were personally higher: I was out to prove that I could still do it after having a baby. I’d love to say that the lack of sleep, lack of time, and lack of money associated with new motherhood (not to mention the weight gain and abdominal muscle deterioration) hasn’t changed me when it comes to essentials. But the truth is, sometimes it seems that I’m almost a different person entirely.
I remember when we were deciding to have a baby I was scared because I really didn’t want to lose the ability to do the things that I enjoy: experience exotic travel adventures, carry out elaborate fitness and craft schemes, take pleasure in my work, and see an ungodly amount of movies. I’m pretty much 0 for 4 by Old Molly standards. Old Molly didn’t have a cute little baby, which New Molly finds a great joy. New Molly looks at her plate and says, I’ve traveled, I’ve exercised and crafted, I’ve earned some money, and I’ve seen a few movies—what’s your problem? I COULD do all the things I used to do at the rate and quality I used to do them, but who has the energy?
Even the half-ass job I’ve done on all these fronts required way more time and effort than I feel is worth for the meager results. I mean, a movie for example has to be fan-freakin-tastic for me to spend an hour prepping for a babysitter, paying someone $40 for the 4 hours of childcare, and spending an hour afterwards trying to get Tillie back into her evening routine. What happened to the girl who would always make spur-of-the-moment non-plans to see truly-bad-but-truly-hilarious action flicks? She disappeared the day Tillie came to be. Maybe she’ll come back when a certain someone goes off to college.
Getting pumped for the swim:
The victorious sprint to the finish line:
With Camile, my sideline coach and support-and-gear maven
Swim (21:27) Bike (48:33) Run (39:28)
Final Time with Transitions (1:59:05)
Overall Rank (1021st out of 2592)
Under two hours—hooray! I’ve certainly had better results in the nearly a dozen times that I’ve done this race, but this time the stakes were personally higher: I was out to prove that I could still do it after having a baby. I’d love to say that the lack of sleep, lack of time, and lack of money associated with new motherhood (not to mention the weight gain and abdominal muscle deterioration) hasn’t changed me when it comes to essentials. But the truth is, sometimes it seems that I’m almost a different person entirely.
I remember when we were deciding to have a baby I was scared because I really didn’t want to lose the ability to do the things that I enjoy: experience exotic travel adventures, carry out elaborate fitness and craft schemes, take pleasure in my work, and see an ungodly amount of movies. I’m pretty much 0 for 4 by Old Molly standards. Old Molly didn’t have a cute little baby, which New Molly finds a great joy. New Molly looks at her plate and says, I’ve traveled, I’ve exercised and crafted, I’ve earned some money, and I’ve seen a few movies—what’s your problem? I COULD do all the things I used to do at the rate and quality I used to do them, but who has the energy?
Even the half-ass job I’ve done on all these fronts required way more time and effort than I feel is worth for the meager results. I mean, a movie for example has to be fan-freakin-tastic for me to spend an hour prepping for a babysitter, paying someone $40 for the 4 hours of childcare, and spending an hour afterwards trying to get Tillie back into her evening routine. What happened to the girl who would always make spur-of-the-moment non-plans to see truly-bad-but-truly-hilarious action flicks? She disappeared the day Tillie came to be. Maybe she’ll come back when a certain someone goes off to college.
Getting pumped for the swim:
The victorious sprint to the finish line:
With Camile, my sideline coach and support-and-gear maven
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Back to the Bachelor Pad
Well, it wasn't so bad as I had feared, but our place did need a bit of tidying up after a week of just baby and dad. Tillie was only kind of sticky, but I still enjoy giving her a little wash in the sink. She just loves it!
Monday, June 02, 2008
Flashback
I went out with good friends in Boston tonight. It's almost as if I never left, never graduated, never moved back south, never bought a house, never had a child, never experienced craft night, never witnessed lymphoma, never felt as close to Scott as I do now. My family members are going through so much change: cross-town, cross-country, and inter-continental moves; new babies; growth; illness; recovery. You'd think they would have been the steady rock in my life, but it is really my once-new-now-old friends from Boston (and to some extent my once-old-now-renewed friends from Austin) who provide the foundation of stability that I must consult periodically as a litmus test of values. We're all on the same trajectories that started their barely salient arcs a couple of years ago, only we are better, clearer, a few degrees closer to the apogees of our lifes' paths. I love seeing how we've just eased into the next stage.
And now for something completely different...Tillie rolling around at Emily's house, enjoying the spotlight (Ain't she cute?!):
And now for something completely different...Tillie rolling around at Emily's house, enjoying the spotlight (Ain't she cute?!):
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Aches
I'm out of town away from Tillie for the first time and oh how it aches! It never ceases to amaze me how primitive my feelings for her are. Scott told me about this sensation on his first trip away from her, and I just didn't get it until it happened to me. We video-conferenced yesterday so I could see and talk to her, but it seemed to do more harm than good. I just REALLY want to squeeze her little thighs and hold her little hands and kiss on her little face and feel the weight of her little body against mine and smell her little, fuzzy head and make her smile and flap her arms with excitement. I MISS HER! Man, I feel it in my stomach, like when you fall in unrequited love for the first time when you are a teen. Every time I see a mom on the street here in Boston, I just want to take her baby for a few minutes. Just a few minutes--I swear I won't kidnap her--I just need a little baby fix...but I probably would get arrested. Sigh. I'll be home soon.
Pics from last week until I see her again...
Pics from last week until I see her again...
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