Archive for the 'life and pups' Category



Gems

I feel pretty blessed. I really can’t complain (though sometimes I do). I have friends who are like family and family who are like friends. I have a job that I (usually) enjoy. I live in a town I love with a little nuclear family we’ve created that is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Notwithstanding all of this love fest, I admit to getting a little down from time to time. And a little overwhelmed. I felt the overwhelming nature of things creeping up on me lately and I decided today – rather than letting it get out of hand and taking it out on those closest to me – that I needed to take some time off. I know this is a luxury that so many are not afforded, but I didn’t think I’d be doing those less fortunate any good by stewing in my overwhelmingness just for the sake of solidarity. So, with knowing that I had done triage on my work at the office and could afford a vacation day, I woke up and said to AO, “I slept really poorly last night. I think I’m going to stay home this morning.” He said, “Ok, but why don’t you take the whole day off?” The whole day? Done and done.

These hours off have felt decadent, blissful and all too short. I’ve stripped the bed and am washing the sheets, but I’m still in my pajamas and watching Income Property on HGTV. An hour or so ago I finished Sisterland. I’m still sort of sitting with it, but I declare Sittenfeld has produced another excellent book. It’s no American Wife, but what is?

For a long time while I was reading the book, I wasn’t sure how much I liked the story or characters, but I did appreciate the writing. But as I approached the end, I began to realize that I was relating to the characters and their struggles with love and forgiveness, for accepting their loved ones despite – and sometimes even because of – their flaws. I really have a lot to learn.

When Kate’s father says to her, “‘We all make mistakes, don’t we? But if you can’t forgive yourself, you’ll always be an exile in your own life,” I nearly cried. I hope I can instill this in Mollybear. When I read this, though, I did cry:

How peculiar, that morning we pulled out of our driveway on San Bonita Avenue for the last time, to think that Rosie and Owen wouldn’t remember living in this city, this house; if Rosie did remember, it would be only vaguely. There are, I have learned, so many gifts of motherhood, and so many sadnesses, and one of the sadnesses is the asymmetry of the family experience: that in spite of all the daily nuisances, and in spite of the unforgivable way I transgressed, these years of the children being little are the sweetest time in my life. And yet, for Rosie and Owen and Gabe, these won’t be their best years. They’ll grow up and go away, they’ll find spouses and have sons or daughters, and no matter how much we loved them, they’ll probably recall their childhoods as strange and confusing, as all childhoods are. The happiest time in their lives, if they’re lucky, will be when they’re raising their own families.

I got choked up again, writing it here. This is the happiest time.

Wisconsin Wednesday

As you may know, the State’s school “report cards” were released yesterday. I found some of the information really interesting. For example, did you know that almost 20% of Madison’s school kids have only limited English, but that number drops almost in half if you move to Milwaukee? Also, did you know that Madison Metro’s student population is 48.6% economically disadvantaged? That’s crazy. And more than 82% of Milwaukee’s school population is economically disadvantaged? 82%!? That’s crazy! I mean: that’s CRAZY. Geez Louise do we have some work to do.

Anyway, so I’ve been scanning the interwebs for other Sconnie education news and came upon this. I don’t really have too much of an opinion on it right now, but I think it’s interesting. Any thoughts, friends?

No pics of the shower!

So the shower that dominated my life for so long came and went and I hardly took one pic. What can I say? The day got away from me.

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Mason jars with fabric & twine

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Date night tongue depressors

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Masking tape toothpick flags

 

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90 some shortbread cookies taking a break

 

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The before shot

And I had such good intentions to get some shots of the bunting on that pretty oyster-colored burlap. Sigh.

Three things

There are several things on my mind today, but I’ll bore you with only three of them.

One, today I saw something really baffling. First, let me say that it really bugs me when a parent is biking along with their child and the child is all helmet-ed up, but the parent is sans protection. For a lot of people, this is annoying because of the message it sends to the kid: when you’re old enough you, too, can choose to be an enormous idiot. And that message bugs me, too. But the bigger thing that bugs me — because, frankly, the message that adults can make choices that kids can’t is valid — is that it is a colossally dumb plan. What happens when you get hit by a car, parent? You’ve crashed and hit your head. Sure, your kid is fine. Except that she has a parent with a head injury (or is – God forbid – dead) that could have been easily avoided. Anyway, now for the even weirder behavior. Today I saw a man biking with a girl in the attached bike trailer. The girl looked about three. Maybe four. And guess what was on her head? Nothing! No helmet! Please PLEASE explain this. Actually, please don’t. I don’t want to know.

Two, (and this is completely unrelated) I saw this Kotex commercial last night that was sort of making fun of other tampon commercials. This young woman said to the camera, “How do I know if a tampon works for me? If I see a commercial with a woman dancing in circles.” Or something like that. And it was heavy with hilarious sarcasm. So the commercial then says something like, “Try our tampons. Try them for yourself. We are not pushing them in any annoying way. No gimmicks. Just try them. If you don’t love them, we’ll give you another box for free.” Uh, what? If I don’t love them … I get more of them? I’d rather just see the woman dancing.

Three, (and again, not related) Bear and I went to Target this morning because I decided I needed to suck it up and buy her a doll. She loves the dolls at day care and while I see this in her face, it never really occurred to me I needed to do something about it. And then yesterday, when we were at a friend’s house and Bear was playing with all of the little girl’s dolls, it hit me: Bear needs, and deserves, a doll. So, at 9:30 this morning, we headed to Target. I also needed some microfiber cloths to clean that damn smudge off my camera lens, FYI. We tool around the doll aisle and she alternates between jubilation and fear, which I think will seem very honest to you if you’ve seen that aisle. Anyway, fast forward to the check-out line. We place ourselves behind a couple and their son, who looks about Bear’s age. The woman leaves as if to go look for something else (though she does not return in my story and really is a red herring in this tale). The boy is being held by his dad and is looking sorta old mannish and worried; his brow is furrowed. When it’s their time to check out, the check out clerk coos over the boy. She says, “What’s your name?” and “He’s so cute!” I kinda think she’s laying it on a little thick. I mean, the kid is cute because he’s a little kid, but he’s not the kind of kid that makes people ooo and ahh. Unless maybe you’re the type of person that ooos and ahhs over every kid. Which she must be, right? Then she amps it up even more, asking the boy if he’d like a sticker. She holds the sticker out to him, gently, patiently, kindly. The kid takes the sticker. The clerk is glowing. Glowing, that is, until we start the check out process. Then it’s all, “Do you need a bag for this?” That’s. It. No, “How old is she?” No, “What’s her name?” Certainly no, “She’s so cute!” And absolutely no sticker transaction. I put on a brave face for Bear, of course, but Dear Reader, what the what was that? How. Rude.

Ballydesmond

Gracie told me she was more than ok with changing the header image on this blog to honor her friend, and the world’s most joyful dog, Bally. I really don’t think I’ve ever met – or will ever meet – another dog as happy as Bally. Honestly, I don’t think it was possible for anyone who met her not to burst into giggles. Her joie de vivre was so contagious and sincere that I don’t even think the world’s most hardened, self-proclaimed dog hater could have done anything in her presence but fall in love with her.

For me, today started with learning that sad news that Bally’s long battle with her terrible illness was coming to an end. The day’s news got worse with the devastating story out of Boston. How do we go on when things seem so heartbreaking and we feel so helpless? I think we do so by remembering that there are good things in this world, in this life. One of those things that reminds me that life is good and worth living is the love of a wonderful dog. Rest, Bally. And thank you for letting us know you.

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