What I Know For Sure

In my house if you want dessert, you eat your dinner.  I know, blah, blah, rewarding with food, blah, blah.  Olivia's and Grace's dinner consisted of one little taco with steak and vegetables and about 2 bites of re-fried beans.  Gracie powered through because she wanted dessert.  Olivia cried.  Actually, she's still crying right this moment just two rooms away.  It's been 40 minutes, she will keep crying well into bedtime.  Olivia is very determined.

End result, Gracie got to eat a dessert and Olivia didn't.  What did Gracie pick for her dessert?  Well, first let me tell you what would have happened if the situation was reversed.  Olivia would have wanted a big fat bowl of pink ice cream in a pink bowl that she would decorate with a little pink paper umbrella and eat with a pink spoon.  Would this be because Olivia LOVES pink?  No, Olivia doesn't really like pink.  Olivia loves yellow.  It would be because Gracie loves pink and Olivia wouldn't want to miss out on sticking it to her sister.  That's how she rolls.

Here is what Gracie had for dessert; two pieces of celery with peanut butter and a scant sprinkling of tiny white and chocolate chips. 

Here's what I know for sure; Olivia hates celery and peanut butter.  Gracie knows it too.  Gracie is a really nice sister.

2011 Part Two: Things That Lifted Me Out of Darkness (Even If Only Momentarily)

This was supposed to publish on New Year's Day and I got distracted.  If I have left anyone out, know that I am so thankful for so many things in my life and you are no doubt one of them.

The 40 years of love I received from my mom (even the cases where it felt more like emotional water boarding).  Disclaimer:  I wrote this before stupid Kathy Griffin said it live from Times Square on NYE

My brother, Erin, without whose existence I would literally fall into pieces.  He is the only other person who wholly knows what it is to live in Cheli’s world and what it will be like to live without her. I am grateful to have a partner in this, even if our experiences there were different (like sometimes first class and coach different)

My best friend, Shawna, who keeps me from driving off of bridges and for being my essential person, always.  Also for thinking “if I’ve got 3 days left, he’s got a day and a half” is as funny as I thought it was

My children for teaching me that it is totally possible to love someone so much you’d happily jump in front of a train for them while in the very next moment you can actually visualize the handle bar mustache that would appear on your face as you were tying them to a train track of your own accord because they make you so crazy

The Fair Weather Friend signs I designed and had made for my ambulance

Fair Weather Friend customers

Tina's Closet in Lisle who helps to hold up my giant boobs; no small feat


Thia, Jesica, Pam, Amber and Kim who ran the kitchen at my mom’s memorial. Thia and Jesica for helping me hold it together and for doing anything I asked and didn’t (including writing a giant check to the caterer when I forgot)

To one of the above women for entrusting me with a precious secret

The Batavia Plain Dirt Gardeners for keeping me busy and for the small group of women who mother me when I need it

John Janunas for being the object of the only Dad crush I’ve ever had and

Sally Janunas for kissing my husband firmly and frequently and for the love she has bestowed upon me and my kids (well…and my husband, obviously)

Melissa Hyams for just being herself and being my friend and for her surprising love of small children


Aunt Mare for being Aunt Mare

Dr. Tim McGee for keeping our heads above water and our hopes afloat

Every ICU nurse at CDH but most especially Rhonda, Robin and the little one who’s name began with an E

My Aunt Donna for being here

Cathi who has been my good friend through the hardest 5 years of my life

Tricia for being my new friend who feels like an old friend

Maria and Minmae and Jon (who seems really crabby but is sad that we’re moving) and Maria for knowing how I feel and constantly having the ingredients I’m out of

Every single person who has ever commented on and/or followed my blog; most especially those in South Africa and South Dakota.  I am lucky to have a group of friends I’ve never even met and excited to be conversation fodder at book clubs!

Aidan Erin James Harper and specifically his razor sharp sense of humor

Grace Lillian Kaminski and specifically her steadfastness

Olivia Rose Kaminski and specifically the joy that spills out of her daily

Dan for being always willing to try harder; you are very determined

My amazing mother in law; Patti Kaminski who has been there for me through everything

Leah and Jenny for stopping and being present and for being not only cousins, but two of the best friends I have

Pete for being a pain in the ass but for giving us options

Heather B. Armstrong for keeping me laughing (www.dooce.com)

Carol Meyerson at Sugar Plum Dresses in New York who went above and beyond

Lisa Minakata for the very funny newspaper articles and her mom, Pat Demus, for picking up a phone and being a voice I’d recognize anywhere.

Jeannie and Bill Petrosini for taking my kids into their hearts and amazingly into their home (you guys are nuts)

The Cremation Society of Illinois, not because I used them (I didn’t), but because their motto is “Thinking outside the box”. Seriously

Ron Schweigert for loving my mom and for being the closest thing I’ve had to a real dad

Hele Effgen for always thinking about my family and Caitlin for keeping me busy

Every woman (and there were many) who confessed to me that, they too, were raped (including my own Mom) when I wrote this post.  Sisterhood cannot be under-valued, women get through trauma by sharing and your sharing was a gift to me. Thank you

Everyone who had something interesting or funny to say about my mom

Dr. Anthony DiCarlo at Batavia Back and Neck Center for fixing me when I'm broken


Logan for lighting up any room he’s in

Boston, Natalie and especially Mason for being the best friends my daughters could have

All of the facebook friends who lifted me up when I was down, something that is usually silly became like a life preserver

My neighborhood for its safety, friendship and comfort, I love my pajama party girls’ nights

Cathi (again) and Jim for loving my kids like their own; the feeling is mutual.  An extra shout-out to Jim for being able to tell my girls apart since infancy, it's really special to identicals to be known apart

Tricia (again) and Nick for the same; although your love feels a little scarier like if they ever go missing, I’ll be knocking on your door first

That my grey hair is coming in the color of my very expensive highlights (thanks Hagan genes)

That by this time in 2012 I will have chickens, so many chickens

As usual I have much more to be thankful for than I deserve.  Have a blessed and beautiful 2012.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart

2011 Part One: Things That Can Kiss My Ass

This post was to publish on New Year’s Eve and I just plain forgot as I was busy throwing out my hip. 

As what has been a truly horrible year for my family ends I’d like to share two posts with you.  The first one will be entitled, “Things That Can Kiss My Ass” the second one, “Things That Lifted Me Out of Darkness (Even If Only Momentarily).” I thought I’d finish with the good in some sort of effort to fool karma or whatever force it is that has been fucking with my family all year.

Part One:Things That Can Kiss My Ass

Death

Uterine cancer

COPD

“End-stage” anything

Mortgage companies

Soccer Ball sized cysts and fibroids

The Republican Party in general

Arch Bay Holdings, LLC

My flat fucking feet

My back, neck and all bones attached to either

Over draft fees

AT&T for keeping me on hold for 40 minutes while deciding weather to give back my dead mom’s money

All doctors at Suburban Lung except the lovely, hopeful and empathetic Dr. Tim McGee (my mom would want me to tell you he looks just like Rahm Emanuel)

MDS (the blood disorder, and while we’re at in; throw in muscular dystrophy, that sucks too)

Alcoholism

Clinical Depression

AD/HD

Food poisoning

Packing up your life

Moving your garden in the late Autumn

Writing thank you notes that you can’t send for your mom’s memorial because it's too final

Anything that causes any of my children to be heartbroken, except bedtime; that one is ridiculous

KISS MY ASS, 2011, DON'T LET THE DOOR HIT YOU IN THE ASS!

Where Upon I Get Trapped In My Life (Literally)

The lock on my bathroom door is broken.  Well, it's not so much broken as it is unable to withstand my two smaller children.  Literally, they have found a way to just make the locked door open.  I have one of those fancy knobs and their forcing the lock has sometimes caused the outside handle and this long metal piece to fall out.  It's really annoying but the door is easy to open.  Or so I thought. 

This morning I decided that I was going to make one of my own Christmas wishes come true.  I was going to go to the bathroom in complete and total silence and privacy.  If I need to go to the bathroom or if I have a phone in my hand I go from being a red-headed step child to being the belle of the ball.  Instant popularity.

To overcome my passive lock, I locked my bedroom door.  My children have perpetrated the following list of evils upon gaining entrance to my master bedroom/bath over the years resulting in a heavy duty utility doorknob with a heavy duty lock being placed where my beautiful, stylish doorknob used to be.  It requires a key which we keep hung out of reach (although, working as a team, they have gained access to it twice).  Here is the list:

1. Used approximately $500 worth of my extensive make up kit to decorate the (at the time) 2 year old carpet with tribal drawings rendered in $35 Bobbi Brown Gel Eyeliner in both brown and black  and a large variety of Bare Minerals eye shadows for color and highlight.
2. Drew stick figures in Black Sharpie marker on the carpet and left signatures (which did not keep them from arguing their innocence)
3. Unwrapped a stack of beautifully wrapped EMPTY lia sophia boxes for a display (they knew they were empty, they watched me wrap them).
4. Cut their hair no less than 5 times between the two of them.
5. "Cleaned" mom's closet by unhanging everything within their 3 year old reach.
6. Used Essie "Jazz" nail polish to decorate the cabinet in our bathroom that their Dad built for me
7. Put SEVEN small bars of soap down the toilet at one time and flushed.
8. On at least 2 occasions they dumped an entire bottle of shampoo in the Jacuzzi tub while jets were on resulting in an 8 foot high pile of bubbles and a level of giggling that nearly made it worth while.

I'm sure I'm leaving out some of the better ones. Now, back to this morning; I lock my bedroom door, I walk through the open bathroom door, I close it and I lock it.  When I'm done, I turn the handle.  Nothing happens.  Did I mention that I've turned up the TV so that I won't even be able to hear them yelling, "mom, mom, mommmmmmmy" at the door?  No?  Well, I did.  Did I mention that the outside handle had fallen off earlier that morning?  No? Well it had; it happened to Olivia and I promptly forgot about it.  Did I mention that I am naked except for a fluffy pink bathrobe and that the window to my bathroom is small?  No?  Well, that's true too.

As it turns out, it's not so much that my lock is passive; it's more that it's passive/aggressive which didn't work in my favor.  I keep my house at about 62 degrees and suddenly it felt very warm.  I yelled and yelled for the girls.  Aidan was sleeping soundly in his bed across the entire house and up a flight of stairs, safely insulated by his ever-present headphones.  The girls were busy playing with the Disney Enchanted Castle.  No one came.  Where was the popularity?  Didn't they know I had just used the bathroom privately, with no interruptions?  Usually my cell phone is in my pocket.  Not when I'm naked in a pink fluffy robe.  I tried yelling again, targeting the specifically helpful child. 

"Gracie, Gracie, GRACCCCCCCIIIIIIE, mommy needs HELP!"  Success. 

"Mom," she yelled and I could tell without seeing that her entire little body had been thrown up against my bedroom door, "mom, how did you get stuck in your bedroom?"  "Gracie, I'm stuck in the bathroom too, can you go get your brother?" 

Suddenly Olivia the spy is interested, "I'll get him, Mom, I'll help save you!" Away they tear to get their brother, Olivia screaming, "Hurry Aidan, our mother is in grave danger, you must come quickly."

The plan was that Aidan (who can reach the keys and is welcome in our room) would unlock the bedroom door, re-assemble the bathroom knob and free me.  Who am I kidding?  There was no plan and quite honestly I figured he'd just push the door and it would open. The adrenaline induced emergency fueled newly fabricated plan involved the aforementioned lock re-assembly.  And, it would have worked except....for once in her life Olivia stopped upon dropping something (the doorknob), picked it up and sat it where she figured it belonged......IN MY BATHROOM!

On to plan C.  Aidan had to go out the kitchen door onto the deck and I had to hand him the pieces of the doorknob through the window.  The girls heard him, thought he was in the bathroom with me, and started to cry because they wanted to be in there with me.  Had I been thinking clearly, I would have stayed in that bathroom alone until someone came looking for me.  It probably would have been the highlight of my week.

Aidan re-assembled the lock and I was free.  The moral of the story, I think, is that privacy in the bathroom is highly over rated.  It's also possible and I would venture to say, probable, that the ghost of my mom was just having a little laugh.  Until I was a mom myself, I just thought my mom was one of those people who pees with the door open.  As it turns out, she was just a mom who couldn't catch a two minute break by herself.  Well Mom, you got me back, I'll never try to go to the bathroom alone again!

Grace

Dear Gracie,

Happy Birthday, you’re 6!  Remember the other day when you read to me and I started to cry?  That was because I’m so proud of you and so happy for you.  You are a lot like me; reading is going to save you over and over again.  I’m so excited that you are beginning that journey. 

I love, love, love that you could give a crap about boys in general but are a loyal and good friend to Jake.  I’ve never met a six year old in a 1 ½ year relationship, it’s really, really interesting to watch.  It’s further proof of how consistent you are as a person.  Once you make up your mind about something, that’s it.  You get that from me, maybe that’s why I like it so much; I get it.  That will serve you well for your entire life.  It’s a gift to make decisions and not ever question them.

I admire your independence and I love that you and your sister are close without being clingy.

I’m really excited about this summer, the new house and all of the gardening we are going to do. 

I know this year has been hard, you are the middle child for certain; always keeping steady, never causing waves.  I hope you know that it’s okay to freak out.  It was really hard to lose Grandma and have Grammy get so sick.  You are amazing.

Here are some things I think about telling you:

1. Keep working on your kindergarten grip; it gets easier.
2. Snuggle your sister more; the opportunity won’t be there much longer.
3. Don’t be self conscious; everything about you is absolutely breath taking.
4. Sing loudly and dance more, you are a fabulous dancer and I’d be happy to get you some singing lessons.
5. Embrace your curls, know that your hair is God answering my childhood prayers.
6. I hope you never, ever, stop squinching up your nose like an angry troll; it’s enchanting.
7. Crocs don’t actually work with everything; in reality, they’re hideous and I hope you grow out of that phase.
8. I would never willingly leave you.

Gracie, it’s your day, enjoy every moment of your 6^th birthday.  I love you.

Love, Mom

Olivia

Dear Olivia,

This year has been a hard one, but you are finally six!  I am so proud of the person you are growing into.  When Grandma died and your Grammy got really sick, I was really worried about you.  Don’t tell your brother and sister, but one of my favorite things about you is how joyfully naughty you are.  I think when Grandma died and Grammy got sick you got scared that I might die too and you started trying to be too good.  You did a really good job at it; I was afraid that you were never going to be my joyful naughty girl again.  But, I think you’ve found a really nice balance between naughty and nice; I’m sure Santa is impressed. 

We had so much fun while you were five and I’m really excited about six; it’s one of my favorite ages.  I can’t wait for all of the adventures we are going to have together this summer in our new house; it will be even better than last summer. 

And, no, you may not have a cell phone now that you are six.  Just relax because it is going to be a long, long wait. 

I’m trying really hard to remember all of the funny things you say now because faster than anything you are sprinting away from your babyhood.  Just the other day you asked me if the holes had grown into your ears yet so you could wear earrings and even though you got really mad when I said that you have to have them pierced and you’re not allowed to until you’re ten, I thought it was so cute that you just believed they appear with age.  I’ll be really sad when you say “thank you” instead of “fank you.”

Here are some things I think about telling you:

1. Don’t be in such a hurry to get married, being single is really, really fun
2. Don’t worry about being “cool” for Boston or anyone else, you’re cooler than any boy I’ve ever met
3. Sing louder and dance more, you have a charming voice and moves that make me question weather or not I am biologically responsible for your existence.
4. Stick with the leopard print; it works with your personality.
5. The key you wear around your neck makes you seem mysterious, that will work in your favor in years to come.
6. You have great taste in music.
7. You will be reading fluently momentarily, I am literally holding my breath; whole new worlds are about to open for you.
8. I would never willingly leave you.

Liv, I think you’re amazing and I hope you have a fantastic 6^th birthday.  Also, six really is too old to draw on furniture and walls now, please stop.

Love, Mom