Anti-Head-Explosion Monday

If you are FlyLady aware, then perhaps you know about Antiprocrastion Day. It’s on Wednesdays. The premise is that, each Wednesday, you do one thing that you've been putting off for at least a week. Last week, on Antiprocrastination Day, my head exploded.

Consider my to-do list:
• Go with Brian to the hospital to sign Ava's birth certificate. We somehow got out of the hospital without signing it, and we've been putting it off ever since.
• Birth announcements. She's four months old, so I guess I should scratch that. Perhaps Baby's 1st Christmas cards?
• Thank you cards for new-baby gifts. I wrote half of them and then ... I'm not sure what happened.
• Write in Ava's journal. When Ben and John were four months old, I'd already written about 50 pages in their journals. Ava's? Not even started. I haven't written in the boys' journals for months, either.
• Clean the house!
• Do laundry!
• Buy Halloween candy!
• Gather brain matter and put head back together!

This is just a small sample of the things on my to-do list. So today, to preserve what little brain matter I have left, I must get a few things done.

In the meantime, in the absense of a beautiful, heartfelt post about Ava at the four-month mark, I leave you with a few pictures of her, in all her super-chunk glory, taken yesterday afternoon during a break from pumpkin guts. (That's me and Spider Man with her.)




Happy Halloween!

(If you want something a bit more gory to read, go here.)

Halloween, Right?

Yesterday was supposed to be all about caramal apples, hot apple cider and pumpkin guts.

Intead, we had snow ...


... a snowman ...


... and hot chocolate.


After a few hours outside Ben said, "I don't like winter that much." Poor kid. It'll be a long four months.

Today the sun is out, the air is mild, and Brian and I must gather enough energy for caramel apples, hot apple cider and pumpkin guts. Wish us luck.

Friday Freewrite

Wondering what this is? Look here.

Today's writing prompt: "She felt her strength begin to drain away"

"She felt her strength begin to drain away," as she lay on the darkening field. Rain started to drip on her face, her eylids, encouraging her to keep them closed. In time, she figured someone would come along. Or maybe not.

She sat up slowly, pushing with her hands. She felt wetness on the back of her neck, but she was afraid to to touch it. She didn't even look at her hands, or her jeans. Her weakness was becoming more like pain, weighing down on every inch of her skin, like tiny hands holding her down. She remembered the school nurse telling her once, after she gave blood and got dizzy, "Head up! Head up!" So she tried. She looked toward the sky and saw black clouds swirling before a gray haze, a muted sun losing its battle to shine through. The field where he brought her was large and mowed, surrounded by tall evergreens and blotched with spatterings of violets and dandelions. She didn't recognize the place, didn't know which way to go.

She strained to hear cars, a tractor, kids playing. But something seemed wrong -- she had muted, underwater hearing. Then she saw them, the tracks from his blazer. They traveled toward the bottom edge of the field, where she thought she could see a clearing.

She started crawling but it was too hard, and she kept getting glimpses of red stains and strange protrusions on her hands. So,she stood, slowly, pausing half way up, holding her arms out to her sides for balance, trying to breath slow and deep, trying to use her hypnosis training to quell the pain and regain her composure. She began taking steps and seemed to be moving at a good clip. She felt no pain now. Darkness closed in on her, and she recognized the sensation from after her car accident, the tunnel vision, the altered reality. She kept watching the dandelions on the ground before her, like streetlights, such a bright yellow that they made her squint.

She didn't use thoughts of her family, or of how much she wanted to live, to keep herself going. She just thought of the tire tracks meeting the small clearing, thought of walking to it, and making it to the other side, wherever that may be.

Thursday Thirteen

Thirteen Things on Wonder Mom's mind today I got this over at Sleeping Mommy's: 1. No matter how hard I try, I cannot accomplish everything I need to in a day. Cook dinner or fold the laundry? Go to the bathroom or brush my teeth? Play with the boys or nurse the baby? 2. We’re involved in a lawsuit because of a car accident we were in three years ago. We had the deposition on Monday. Let me tell you, there’s nothing quite as disconcerting as being questioned by an opposing lawyer as he peruses your medical records. 3. Turns out my son’s grammar school (he’s in kindergarten) is the worst in town. We have MCAS standardized tests here in Massachusetts, and less than one-third of the kids in his school were proficient. That’s two-thirds that need improvement. And there’s no sign that he will be taught to read this year. Ugh. We decided against home schooling for now, but it looks like we’ll have to do it anyway. 4. I wish Ava liked the Baby Van Gogh video. She doesn’t. 5. I’m not neurotic enough to win the war against germs. 6. Only two pairs of my “regular” pants fit. Something must be done. Tomorrow. 7. John used the word “otherwise” today in a sentence. I think he's brilliant. 8. I finally got a clothes dryer with a buzzer so that I can get the clothes before they become a wrinkled mess. Of course, I can’t hear the buzzer because the dryer’s in the basement. 9. Ava is addicted to swaddling. Or, I am addicted to her sleeping through the night. We stopped swaddling, and she stopped sleeping. After a few nights of this, I got desperate and wrapped the swaddling blanket around her middle and tucked in one of her arms. She passed right out and slept through the night. I guess I’m willing to risk her physical development so that I can get a good night’s sleep. Priorities, people. 10. Why do they play commercials for Internet access and vacuum cleaners during Timothy Goes to School? 11. I was going to make some kind of elaborate vegetable-laden dinner tonight requiring lots of chopping and sautéing and, well, time. We’re having turkey sandwiches instead. 12. Today for the very first time ever, I volunteered, in my son’s kindergarten class. I hosted a rousing game of Rhyming Bingo. Ben came over and gave me a hug, in front of his friends. How long before he doen't let me even look at him in front of his friends? About a week, right? 13. I’m late with my DotMoms post. Way late. So late that, well, I shouldn't be doing this. Sorry, Julie! Links to other Thursday Thirteens! 1. (leave your link in comments, I’ll add you here!)

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!


The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

Wonder Mom to Germs: It Is On

I didn’t want to be one of those parents. You know the kind. They clean the shopping cart with Lysol wipes before using it. They wash their kids’ hands down after they touch anything, including their own face. They wash their own hands until they crack and bleed. They’d stroke out if they caught their child eating another kid’s pretzels on the playground.

I am now one of those parents.

Ava had her first ear infection a few weeks ago. She was just three months old! Cold and flu season had just begun! We couldn’t be sick already! But the boys caught colds at school, and within a few days she got sick too.

Now, just a few weeks later, another cold has made its way into our happy household. It invaded the noses of Brian and the boys this weekend, and by Sunday, I had the Lysol in a hip holster and was flying about the house spraying every sink, door knob, toilet and touchable surface with antibacterial cleaner. I set up a Detoxification Station in the kitchen with hand sterilizer, a box of tissues, a roll of paper towels and a trash can.

Brian tried to fight me on the paper towels, wondering why they couldn't just use a hand towel. "A hand towel?! Are you insane?! Hand towels harbor germs!"

Seeing the maniacal look in my eyes, he backed off. I gave the boys repeated lessons on not touching their noses, wiping with tissues and sterilizing afterwards. If I keep repeating this, they’ll eventually get it. Right?

Ben missed school yesterday, John’s home today. At 5 this morning, I had to clean Ava’s nose out with a syringe. Damn it, I will not have upper respiratory infections in my SIDS-vulnerable baby. Germs, you will not win, not this year. This is Wonder Mom you’re dealing with!

Now let’s see, aren’t I supposed to have super powers or something? Where is that Super Hero Handbook ...

Friday Freewrite

Here we are, Friday again, time for another writing prompt! Here's what we do: Spend 15 minutes freewriting (writing without stopping and without thinking too much), using the prompt as a jumping off point. I changed the name to Friday Freewrite because, it doesn't have to be fiction.

If you play along (please won't you?), and you want to share your results, you can post it here in the comments or on your own blog. Let me know so I can come check it out!

Today's prompt is the first words from Ernest Hemingway’s “A Clean, Well-Lighted Place”: “It was late and everyone had left the café except an old man who sat ..."

It was late and everyone had left the café except an old man who sat in the bar, nursing a warm, watery scotch.

The woman beside him didn’t have anything to say. They sat here all night, never saying a word to each other. For a while I wondered if they were even together. Then at one point their eyes met, and they held eachother’s gaze for a few seconds. The waitress appeared and they each looked sad.

At first, I thought they were sad because of the interruption. But now I think they were sad because there was nothing to interrupt.

Further confusing me, she looked about 25, still young, but a woman. She didn’t have any make up on, her wore her hair in tangled ponytail. Yet, her beauty still drew people’s eyes to her, again and again, through the night.

When she stood and left so abrubtly, I thought certain she would come back, that she’d just gone to the lady’s room. When she left, the old man grabbed his glass and took a large mouthful. His arm dropped back to the table and his shoulder’s sunk. Roddy, the bartender, arrived right then, placed a scotch on the table, murmered “my compliments” and went back behind the bar.

The man’s stillness led me to grow excited at one point, urging my companion that the old man had died right in front of us. She looked down at her plate and told me, in a soft voice, that the man would most want us to stop staring at him.

Boston Blog Love

I’m stealing a few minutes before taking John to school to tell you about three Boston blogs that I love:

The Boston Mommy Blog: Meredith and I went to journalism school together. I was the one sleeping in, missing classes and drinking too much; she was the one running the school newspaper. She’s still overachieving today, as you can see for yourself. I always enjoy reading her humorous perspective on the day’s parenting topics.

Halloweenlover/lots and lots of nonsense: In addition to loving Halloween, Halloweenlover is an attorney, and a great writer. When I stumbled on her blog I just couldn't believe I hadn't been reading her! Why am I always the last to know?!

being jennifer garret: I found Jen's blog just as she was starting her 100 blogs project. Since then, I've enjoyed her daily mediocrity as well as her blog finds (she even featured me one day). Head over and check her out... just don't call her "Jenny."

Help, My Thighs Are Swelling!

How's this for 5-year-old optimism? The other day, Ben said to me, “Mom your belly is getting so small. It’s just getting smaller and smaller and smaller! Pretty soon it will be this [makes tiny circle with fingers] small!"

Ssshhh! Don’t tell Ben that my stomach is bigger now than it’s ever been, postpartum or otherwise. Don’t point out that it protrudes further than my boobs, or that I haven’t lost one pound since giving birth. In fact, I’ve gained five pounds. Let's not even talk about my thighs.

I’m going to eat some celery sticks now ...

Fiction Friday

Long, long ago, before I started blogging, I used to spend my idle time doing free writes from prompts with various writing groups online. In an attempt to get back to that, and my dreams of writing fiction, I've decided to start doing some free writes here.

Every Friday, I'll post a writing prompt and my 15-minute free write. If you decide to do the free write (c'mon, it's fun!), don't read mine first. You don't have to write fiction, just whatever comes into your head. And remember, it's just 15 minutes of free writing, don't spend hours on it. Then let me know so I can come see what you wrote!

Prompt: Eating bananas on the beach.

I sat eating my banana on the beach, and I saw him walking over to me. He was kind of cute, not my type at all. In fact, the idea that he wanted to talk to me didn't occurr to me, until I saw his legs stop moving out of the corner of my eye. I glanced up at him, and saw the sun directly behind him, making his head look like a lunar eclipse. I realized he had a great angle on my cleavage. Then he said something, it sounded garbled, and I didn't hear him so I stood up.

He was just my height, and not quite as handsome as I'd thought, and a bit older, once I got a look up close. All plusses. Then he said, "Would you like to go for a swim?" in an accent so thick I barely understood him the second time either.

"Um, sure," I said, feeling confused and annoyed, yet intrigued at this dark stranger's nerve. Of course he's a foreigner, when's the last time an American man has approached me, especially at the beach?

As we trudged through the sand, he said, "Do you come here often?"

"No, well, a few times a year. I live across town, at the Winston Apartments." Stunned at my stupidity, telling this somewhat odd alien where I live, I began looking around for possible rescuers, reminding myself where my keys were, where I'd parked my car.

"Thank you for joining me," he said, as our feet hit the icy water. "I haven't found people around here to be that friendly, you know?"

"Ah," I said, assuming that meant he's a real wacko.

"I'm from Brazil," he offered. "My name's Pedro. And you?"

"Laura," I said, letting him take my hand. I smiled broadly, "Nice to meet you."

"And you," he said, pausing to look me in the eye. We began strolling along the shoreline, knee deep and getting iced by waves every few minutes. He told me how he had come to America to make a living, to start a new life in the land of opportunity. Part of his plan, he said rather bluntly, was to find a wife.

"Not so easy," he said, his face serious, his eyes glancing out over the ocean.

"C'mon, Pedro, maybe it's just a cultural thing," I offered. "Sometimes American women like to play games, they don't want to know right off the bat that you're looking for a wife."

"Why not? What are they looking for? Not a husband?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I know I'm looking for a husband, but ..."

"But what?"

"Well, it hasn't happened yet for me. I don't seem to attract many marry-able guys."

"Well, you attracted me," he said, flashing me a glance of his straight white teeth, which were set off by his smooth brown skin.

"I did? I thought you needed a tour guide or a best buddy."

"No," he said, "I need a wife." He winked at me, then turned toward the surf and dove in. He came up about 20 feet away. "C'mon in, Laura," he yelled, "it feels great!"

I liked the way he said my name and, after a moment, I dove in after him.

I Have Needs, You Know

I got this meme from Dani at Postcards From the Mothership, and she got it from Hello Josephine. Here’s how it works: Do a Google search on your first name plus the word “needs,” for example, “Kris needs.” Check out the results, and post your top 10. I was amazed at how accurate many of them were! Who knew I had so many needs?

• Kris needs to say thank you
• Kris needs to change his name, mow the yard while Betsy throws quarters at him
• Kris needs a posse of five
• Kris needs MONEY to fight off the lawsuits
• All Kris needs now is Best Actress award and she’d have done it all
• Kris needs to be popped in the mouth now and then
• Kris needs volunteers
• Kris needs to think before she speaks!
• Kris needs just one
• Due to imbalanced energy, Kris needs more rest during this tension-filled cycle
• I think Kris needs to spend a little less time in the Liberal Arts/Humanities department
• Kris needs help
• Kris needs to do these weird therapy techniques
• Kris needs a female R&B singer to spice up a hook on a few songs
• Kris needs to know at the beginning of h[er] journey, the answers to his questions: Who are the visitors? Where do they come from?
• I do, however, think that Kris needs her own weblog

And now, back to reality, Kris needs to go make dinner!

A million little pieces

My latest post is up at DotMoms:

Last week, my three-month-old baby chatted and kicked on her Noah's Ark mat while my boys, ages 5 and almost 4, played with their Imaginext castle on the other side of the room ...

Kristi's "Broken Road"

Kristi of Small Things has written a truly beautiful essay about her past year's journey. Don't miss it.

Overheard at Bathtime

Ben, my 5 year old: "We have to take a bath. It's mama's birthday tomorrow and we have to look nice!"

Son, I don't think you'll have any problems with the ladies. And? You just earned a chocolate in your lunchbox.

A Mere Symptom

Turns out the Tinkerbell incident was just the beginning.

Ben: I’m going to have a boy birthday party. Only boys and ladies can come.

John: And girls?

Ben: No girls!

Me: Ladies? What ladies?

Then, the park ....

Ben: John, when you see a pretty girl will you kiss her? Go ask that girl if you can kiss her!

John: Ok. [Runs off to girl.] Can I kiss you?

Oh, God, help me. He's only 5! OK, wait, now I seem to remember chasing a boy named David Gagnon around at recess and laying a big wet one on him (David, if you're reading, I'm sorry).

So what's next, dutch treat at Chuck E. Cheese? A Micky Mouse telephone in his room? Judging by his first line to a potential male playmate on the playground before school last week ("Do you want to sleep over my house?"), I think he's going to move pretty quick.