Reading

Tonight my sweet 12 year old, D2, read to me. We reviewed his grades and he's slipping so I told him he has to read to me now, every night, for 10 minutes. It turned out not to be a punishment, but lovely. We used to do this in elementary school as an assignment. It felt like a chore then, to him, and me, because we had to do it and I hadn't started pre-empty nesting. Contemplating about all the things we'll never do together again , all the things they have outgrown. All the things I am trying to recapture now. I will be a mess when they go to college...

25 REASONS I LOVE MY MOTHER

1. My mother taught me TO APPRECIATE A JOB WELL DONE.
"If you're going to kill each other, do it outside. I just finished cleaning."

2. My mother taught me RELIGION.
"You better pray that will come out of the carpet."

3 . My mother taught me about TIME TRAVEL.
"If you don't straighten up, I'm going to knock you into the middle of next week!"

4. My mother taught me LOGIC.
"Because I said so, that's why."

5. My mother taught me MORE LOGIC.
"If you fall out of that swing and break your neck, you're not going to the store with me."

6. My mother taught me FORESIGHT.
"Make sure you wear clean underwear, in case you're in an accident."

7. My mother taught t me IRONY.
"Keep crying, and I'll give you something to cry about."

8. My mother taught me about the science of OSMOSIS.
"Shut your mouth and eat your supper."

9. My mother taught me about CONTORTIONISM.
"Will you look at that dirt on the back of your neck!"

10. My mother taught me about STAMINA.
"You'll sit there until all that spinach is gone."

11. My mother taught me about WEATHER.
"This room of yours looks as if a tornado went through it."

12. My mother taught me about HYPOCRISY.
"If I told you once, I've told you a million times. Don't exaggerate!"

13. My mother taught me the CIRCLE OF LIFE.
"I brought you into this world, and I can take you out."

14. My mother taught me about BEHAVIOR MODIFICATION.
"Stop acting like your father!"

15. My mother taught me about ENVY.
"There are millions of less fortunate children in this world who don't have wonderful parents like you do."

16. My mother taught me about ANTICIPATION .
"Just wait until we get home."

17. My mother taught me about RECEIVING.
"You are going to get it when you get home!"

18. My mother taught me MEDICAL SCIENCE.
"If you don't stop crossing your eyes, they are going to freeze that way."

19. My mother taught me ESP.
"Put your sweater on; don't you think I know when you are cold?"

20. My mother taught me HUMOR.
"When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don 't come running to me."

21. My mother taught me HOW TO BECOME AN ADULT.
"If you don't eat your vegetables, you'll never grow up."

22. My mother taught me GENETICS.
"You're just like your father."

23. My mother taught me about my ROOTS.
"Shut that door behind you. Do you think you were born in a barn?"

24. My mother taught me WISDOM.
"When you get to be my age, you'll understand."

25. And my favorite: My mother taught me about JUSTICE.
"One day you'll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like you!"


I do love her, really!

Day 23

Made it through the day...meh.

Turning it over...

Except for the dark, he's fearless!

Everyone should have a B

My son still sleeps with his stuffed animal, who we affectionately call "the B". My son is afraid of the dark and "the B" is his protection from those things that go bump in the night. Of course he would die if he knew I told anyone (he's 12 now). "The B" still travels with us!

I still have those days when I worry about those things that go bump in the night and struggle with different ways to deal with them. Recently, my Higher Power and the love of my family have been my greatest comfort.

What's yours?

Three...?

In October of 1998, at six weeks pregnant, we went in for our first ultra sound. When you are an older mother in an egg donor program, you get lots of them. Which is really cool. For the first one, however, we were very nervous. We would be looking for sacs with beating hearts and counting. One? two? Possibly three? We had been on pins and needles while we waited to find out. It seemed like we had been on this journey forever already with the ultimate goal of parenthood. One would be great, two would be terrific, but three was terrifying. Logistically, having three babies at once seemed overwhelming. I hold one, he holds one, but who holds number three? There would always be what the Old Soul referred to as "one man out". It just wasn't what we signed up for. And yet, we had. We had gone to extraordinary measures to have a child, or two; how could we not heartily welcome a third? You are probably asking, then why put in three at all? This was of course done to increase the chances of pregnancy. The more embryos implanted, the better chances of impregnation. Donor egg In Vitro success in 1998 was much lower than it is now and besides eager prospective parents, fertility doctors were all about maintaining good stats to boost their portfolios. We agreed to three, hoping for at least one. We got two!

Why I drink

There's a lot of talk out there about moms who drink. It's a hard job, the daily routine of thankless tasks: changing, feeding, bathing, napping, burping, bouncing, dressing, undressing, changing, napping and feeding that feels like it's for life, that a mom will always have to be there for that tiny person.
I was there once, twelve years ago, with two tiny persons. The Old Soul and I call them the black years. He started a new business 2 months before they were born and so was gone a good part of the time in the early months. Don't get me wrong, when he was there, he was awesome and hands on for everything but it was still hard. It made getting up and going out the door everyday (which I had done ) look like a piece of cake.
I keep trying to remember how much I drank then. It doesn't seem like it was so much, although I do remember pumping and throwing the milk away because I had drank wine and didn't want to give it to the babies.
I remember happy hours with the neighbors, but never drinking alone, and never being obsessed with when I could drink again.

I think my obsessive drinking started when my elderly mother became too ill to stay in her own home but not ill enough to die. I had to make all the choices about moving her and watch her go in and out of hospitals and skilled nursing rehab, and even hospice. My kids were eight and I was also juggling my real estate career and being office manager for my husband's latest new business which he started when the kids were four. I was more stressed than I had ever been in my life, even at my crappiest job.
I would visit her as often as possible, go to all the caregiver update meetings, and fret constantly if she was in the right place and was I doing the right thing. There are no right answers and so many woulda, shoulda, couldas. Previously, I had gone through exactly the same thing with my elderly dad; although my mom was there so it didn't all fall on my shoulders. I learned so much about the whole elder care scene that I was sure I knew it all. When it was my mom's turn, I found I didn't. I spun all the same wheels knowing the theoretical answers, with the same pitiful results. The system was broken and I felt I wasn't doing enough. It was my fault their quality of life in their declining years wasn't better. But I was just too tired to do more.

So I started drinking, heavily. After a day with mom, in the depressing place that was now her life, I looked so forward to the release and escape of that cold, crisp bottle of Chardonnay when I got home. I remember thinking this would only last until I got through this life chapter. When she was gone, I wouldn't need to drink so much.

My mom passed away in June of 2009. During my moms' decline, I had retired from real estate and working for my husband because when that became a three person job. I became a stay at home mom. And except for the 80+ days last spring and a few weeks stretches here and there, I have drank a bottle plus each and every day. Sometimes I start at 8 am.

I think a lot about why I do this. Boredom, resentment, sadness; I can't quite put my finger on it. I psychoanalyze my childhood and adolescence, my marriage, my existence. AA says I should get all my past resentments out and make amends. I just don't feel like I have that many, or they have gone away. I am afraid to explore further for the increased pain it will surely dredge up.

But I digress.

I started this piece to say that those baby days were hard and I can see why they would make a mom drink. I did some, but I wasn't in trouble then. The trouble now is, those precious babes are growing up and I am not on call anymore. Every day I realize somtehing we will never do again together. Hold them in my lap, go to the zoo, watch an animated kids' movie...
They can fix their own breakfast, they aren't scared to spend the night at a friends anymore, they go to school everyday and leave me at home with an empty void to fill. And lots of time to think about how I could have done better by everyone, my whole life.
When does that stop? And do I drink because of it, or is it so, because I drink?