Bahhhston

I am exhausted! Matt, his mom, Brit and I all got back this morning at 6:30 am from Boston. We drove Thursday night all night to attend his cousin's wedding (it was beautiful, she was beautiful, the cosmopolitans were beautiful) and drove AGAIN through the night back home. Although it's pretty much just a straight shot, staying on I-90, it's a long and boring drive when all of your road trippers are snoring in unison. I stopped at a rest area one time just for some conversation. I learned how to bathe with hand soap.

My 10 Year Reunion post will be up sometime this week. Right now I have to unpack both the bags on my bed and the ones under my eyes.

12/06/02

If I'm dreaming, don't you dare pinch me. Let me sleep. Let me slumber. For only in dreams can you float or cry wolf or tell someone how much they really don't mean to you. Only while sleeping can you jump off a cliff with only your clothes to slow

you down and reach the

bottom without even a dent.

So get your fucking hands off me.

I'm so tired; I don't ever want to wake up.

Your Camera Will Freeze Like That

When I was in Boston, I let my camera sit in the sun too long and this is what it does now. These are taken on a burst effect...the grayish pictures being the first burst and the ones with color being the second or third. Can anyone help me figure out this problem? Calling Van Tuil Photo got me nowhere since they don't deal with Sony Cybershots. "Call Sony." Uh, I'd much rather just get a new camera than deal with people who may possibly charge me more than I paid for it.

I am so lost and depressed without my camera.

Freddy's A Daddy

Congratulations are in order. Most of you would probably make fun of my admiration for Fred Savage, but you also made fun of me when my last baby died, so go figure.

First Rule Of Fight Club

First rule is you don't talk about these pictures

Imagine There's No Dreamhouse

When I was just a little girl, I used to go to my friend Shallyn's house and play every day. She was the only girl of three children. Her father managed at a car dealership (which explained her first car at 11) and her mother always wanted a daughter. I am not in any place to judge, but in my opinion she was damn spoiled. Her room was the color she wanted (including carpet and decor). Her closet was overflowing. And she barely had to lift a finger. It was a far cry from the youngest girl of 6 with two minimum waged parents and a rented, three bedroom house.

We usually played at her house, obviously. She had a pool, a finished basement but more importantly, A BARBIE DREAMHOUSE. It was not one of those cheap ones. It was the real thing. Her dreamhouse had an elevator, balconies, even the really cool cardboard backing with the ocean painted on in the background. Even though she never let me play with the "good Barbies", or didn't so much let me live in the actual dreamhouse as behind the recliner in the corner, I still played with her every single day or as much as she allowed. I took the abuse when she had another friend over. I waited outside patiently while she had lunch, or on the patio when she said I wasn't allowed in the pool while she swam.

I wanted her life, I think. I actually admired/envied her. At home I made my own dreamhouse: The Meadowbrook Dreamhouse since it was made out of milk crates and shoeboxes. The fancy cardboard backing was paper towels and tissue paper. The beds were jewelry boxes (probably from Kmart) and my "Barbies" were the three for a dollar with hollow arms and legs. If ever we were at MY house, I'd always be sure to give her the best room and doll. She always insisted on making her own across my room because, put simply, she could do better.

When I was twelve years old, my parents moved me out to the country. I didn't speak to them for weeks. All I wanted was my old life back. I didn't understand why I needed new friends, a new house and why it took 45 minutes to get to Giant Eagle. At first, the only friends my brother and I had were each other. We scoured the neighborhood of more ponds than houses. We rode our bikes everywhere. But honestly, it didn't take long to make new friends. In my old town, when there was a new kid at school, the unwritten rule was you shunned them and made them earn your respect and friendship. You didn't even talk to them the first week. When I moved all urban, they passed countless notes to you the first hour wondering where you used to live, how many siblings you had and what you favorite ice cream cone flavor was. It was all new to me. It was a complete transformation. And when my old friend Shallyn had completely turned on me at my next birthday party where I introduced her to my new friends, I ended up sending her home even before I blew my candles out.

I've seen her out and about a few times in the last few years. After getting into drugs and many boys got into her, she had her daughter in high school and her son with her new boyfriend about 18 months ago. She bounced from her mother's to her father's house. I've seen her daughter once, when she was an infant. Since then, I never see her with her children. It doesn't matter if it's Walmart or the zoo.

I'm forever grateful to my parents that I got out when I did.

The Morning After

When I was pregnant with Britain, it really wasn't all that bad. It was a great pregnancy, actually. It's not the reason why I'm through with having children. SHE'S not even the reason why. I'm just through. I've raised the 5 girls I nanny over the last 10 years, so she feels like my 6th. And I'm content with one (6). I want to give her everything I can, and since I haven't won the lottery (yet), that's kind of limited. But I'm doing the very best I can, and so far she is a delightful, energetic, and brilliant baby. She has earned the nickname "The Politician" because she works the room everywhere she goes. I'm content that it couldn't be any better.

Then last night happened.

I had a lot of diet coke this weekend...Some with rum, some with ice, some with lime. I had really started to wean myself off and didn't really ever drink it except if I was out to a fast food place and that has also been rare lately. So I thought my horrible gas pains last night stemmed from too much carbonation. I was doubled over and felt like I was going to vomit. Finally I sat on the pot and tried to go.

And soon it was apparent that it was not gas pains at all but rather uterine/menstrual cramping. I know this may be hard to believe but I've never felt cramps until last night. During labor, I believe I only experienced back labor because I can't remember pain in my abdominal region. And they thought I was crazy during my stress tests while I was pregnant because apparently I was contracting but couldn't feel it. When I asked other mothers who had already went through labor what contractions felt like, they referenced "the worst cramps you've ever had". Um, thanks.

I try not to be a vulgar person. Really! (except with Kristen). I won't go into too much detail. But what came out of me was not from my colon and it was not brown. It was dark red with somewhat grey matter.

I called Matt down to make sure I wasn't crazy, and to get me a bucket since by that time I was REALLY nauseous. I'm pretty sure it was a miscarriage. I've never had one before, to the best of my knowledge but I've went through them with other people. It explained the fatigue I'd been feeling over the weekend that I'd just chalked up to traveling. I took a three hour nap which hasn't happened since the first few months of my pregnancy. And unfortunately, early miscarriages are common with the birth control I'm on.

I went to bed with 1000 mg of Tylenol and a little regret for something that might have been.

Miss Co-dependent

I'm a big giver of advice...Some people even ASK me first. In all honesty, right behind having all the secrets in my group of close friends I also am the one they come to for advice. It's a strange responsibility, really. And I guess if I were a super hero, this would be my power, lame as it is. I am able to see what might be defective or just plain fucking wrong in someone's life or situation. And to combat that, I would never spill the beans that they came to me for advice or why.

I was talking to one of the young ones recently about puberty and how being a girl has its drawbacks, but also great power. We aren't the ones who have to go through the sweaty palms before asking someone to dance (granted, we could if we chose to but normally it's up to the opposite sex...Especially in Junior High). She was under the assumption that being a boy was so much easier. I, of course, didn't get into erections over the slightest wind gust.

Yesterday, I was giving my good friend advice about her relationship and the one-sided ways of her partner. I told her I KNEW she was strong enough to stand on her own, that her back up plan probably had a back up plan, but that she should deal with this thing head on instead of running away from it all to see if he comes back to her. She said she'd try not to hold back the next time they discussed (had a huge fight about) something. She told me she was going to lay it all out there no matter how he may react. She said she was going to start thinking about herself just a little more.

But looking back on these two situations, I wonder if I really practice what I preach. I think about how wonderfully easy it might be to have a penis or how lost I would be without Matt. And how I would certainly offer anything to him first (from sex to strawberry pie) if it meant pleasing him and not necessarily myself.

I'm leaving for Boston tomorrow with Matt's mother and Britain. We are staying with his Aunt until Tuesday for his cousin's wedding shower. It will be the first time in almost three years that Matt and I will not see each other every day. I'm kind of scared. I picture myself all lonely in the corner texting him how much I miss him. And I won't know that many people besides his mother and grandmother. His Aunt and his cousin (a sister of the one having the shower) I've only met once. And I've been warned it will be a whirlwind of family and new personalities. So I feel a little hypocritical...Like most days.

If I Just Lay Here

I can't sleep but I'm so spent. And I don't feel like posting about Britain's birthday
...because it was draining
...and because it reminds me of how much of my savings is gone
...and that she isn't my little baby anymore.

So instead I'll leave you with Snow Patrol's "Chasing Cars" lyrics in which I picture a video of Matt and I lying in the rain instead of their version (though beautiful as well)
...because I can't sleep
...because I can't stop listening to the acoustic version and the doubts in my head.
...because I need a good cry and an even better cup of Sleepytime Tea.


We'll do it all
Everything
On our own

We don't need
Anything
Or anyone

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

I don't quite know
How to say
How I feel

Those three words
Are said too much
They're not enough

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Forget what we're told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden that's bursting into life

Let's waste time
Chasing cars
Around our heads

I need your grace
To remind me
To find my own

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Forget what we're told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden that's bursting into life

All that I am
All that I ever was
Is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see

I don't know where
Confused about how as well
Just know that these things will never change for us at all

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Tam Geddes

Matt and I are getting all ready for Britain's big bash this weekend. How great is it that she was born on a Friday last year so she can celebrate her ACTUAL first birthday this year? I can't believe how much my life has changed since she's arrived. And I couldn't imagine life without her. She's pure joy.

While my father was putting in a new garage door for us and I was done hanging patio lights, I decided to snap a few pictures. I stopped counting how many petals I had to remove from her mouth.