Here’s The Thing

Here’s The Thing

Love Alec Baldwin and his podcast cleverly called “Here’s the Thing”.  I find myself saying ‘Here’s the Thing’ a lot lately.

So, here’s the thing.

I bought a pedometer because I wanted to track how much exercise I was getting just by being me.

Everyone has heard that you’re supposed to get at least 10,000 steps a day, right? So, what do I do the first few days I have the thing?

I go balls to the wall and get 12 thousands steps. Just a total maniac. Constantly checking to see if its working and checking the total number of steps. I figured out that normally I’m probably a 5-7 thousand steps a day kind of gal. I’m aware it’s borderline sedentary. I’m not an active person really. Lots of resting up in here. You know, chronic illness and all.

So, after getting the pedometer, I decide I’m going to turn into Jillian Michaels and bust my ass. Cut to the third day after “Pedometergate” and my system (riddled with lupus mind you) responds with “Are you shitting me?” and immediately shuts down all operations.

FLARE.

Full on. I was pissed.

And then pissed at myself.

And then thought the whole thing was funny.

After I was pissed for a few days of course.

So, now because I’m terrified I’ll throw myself into a flare again, it’s 3:30 and I’m at 1600 steps.

Apparently, I’m all about extremes. 

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Oh My God, You Guys

Oh My God, You Guys

I’ve been reading maniacally lately. Just can’t get enough. You going to laugh when I tell you what.

Fifty Shades of Grey.

Uh huh.

I read all three books in 6 days.

If you’re not aware, it’s fan fiction based on Twilight but with massive amounts of dominant/submissive sex.

Yup.

It’s totally cheesy, poorly written (like Twilight, IMHO) and full of hot sex. It’s been called “mommy porn”, a moniker which makes me cringe. I had it on my iPad so obviously no one knew what I was reading. There I was at the Karate studio or working out, or waiting for a friend at a restaurant reading this tawdry tale. I found that endlessly hilarious. My dirty secret.

It reminded me of the paperback crap I would read laying out by the pool when I was in high school like Jackie Collins’ Lucky. Titillating garbage.

In other, more respectable book news, (ahem) I came across this lengthy list of memoirs today on the Hairpin and I’m not even kidding, my heart started racing with excitement. That is what a nerd I am. I love love love memoirs, biographies and the like. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some fiction too. But I enjoy knowing that something REALLY happened. (I was devastated, along with Oprah, when it came out that James Frey made up the majority of his memoir “A Million Little Pieces”) I’ve heard of a lot of these and am excited to dig in.

Pardon me while I continue my daydream of being locked in Tattered Cover for days surrounded by all of those delicious books.

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It’s Never Dull

It’s Never Dull

Finn’s first grade class did reports on famous Americans last month. In addition to a report with pictures, they had to dress up as their famous American one day in order to present a live museum to friends and family.

The students were scattered around the cafeteria, in costume, standing next to the poster of their famous American. We all went around the pushed a button in front of them, at which time, they would come “alive” and say their little speech about their person.

Finny was Martin Luther King, Jr. which was very very exciting.

 

The following is a class picture of all of the little sweeties dressed up. Finn brought it home yesterday.

Please scan the photo from RIGHT to LEFT, as I did, looking for my darling boy.

Go ahead. I’ll wait.

Mkay. Did you find my son?

All of the way on the left side? Sort of away from everyone else? With no shoes on, mouth open and …this is the best part…he’s making the devil horns with this hands, a gesture famous at heavy metal shows everywhere.

Dr. King would be so proud.

I died laughing.

So so so hilarious.

 

Dear Finn,

Oh, my sweet sweet boy. I vow to never squelch that amazing spirit.

with love, \m/o\m/

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He’s Not There

He’s Not There

Atticus died on Saturday. Well, we had him put to sleep. The vet had a special room that looked like a tiny living room with a rug, couch, chairs and a lamp. The lighting was low and the doctor and vet techs were unobtrusive. It was intimate.

I lay on the floor next to my chocolate boy, stroking his face and telling him how much I loved him as they gave him a sedative. Peter and Hadley were there too petting him. (Finn didn’t want to go.)

Our vet gave him the final injection and it was over in 15 seconds. Hadley covered him with a blanket that was in the room.

I was crying, but quietly, until my darling Peter said “Bye, buddy” and I lost it.

Peter settled the payment while Hadley and I walked to the car holding hands. I told her I was glad she was with me.

Driving home I noticed the clear, beautiful day as Peter Gabriel’s Solsbury Hill blared from the stereo.  I could hear my sweet Hadley singing in the backseat.

Sunday was filled with Easter hustle and bustle and I was distracted and busy. I pushed sadness from my thoughts. At my sister’s house for brunch, my family offered condolences and I thought I was ok. Logically, I had accepted it. Emotionally, I hadn’t.

I woke up this morning and he wasn’t there. Next to the bed on the floor, on my side, where he has slept for the past 12 years. Every morning, I would open my eyes, look over and see him patiently waiting for me to wake up so I could feed him and let him out. As soon as we made eye contact, he would get up and nuzzle his face in the side of the bed for a pet.

I felt empty.

I got the kids off to school this morning and I was finally left alone to grieve. 

I miss my friend. I’ve never loved an animal like I loved him.  In the chaos of this life of mine, I could always count on him to keep me grounded. We’d catch eyes across the room and I’d know that he was on my side and I’d be ok. He was here through our marriage, babies, moves, lupus, my dad’s death, cancer. I don’t think more tears could be shed on a dog.

He also made me incredibly happy and for that I’m profoundly grateful.

RIP Atty. You were such a good dog.

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Atticus

Atticus

My dog faced boy has cancer. It’s everywhere. I know non pet owners don’t understand but as ELV put it so eloquently a pet dying is its own “special heartbreak.”

Indeed.

It’s hard watching the spark slowly slip away out of my sweet boy’s body. 

He is losing his physical abilities as the days go on and I think it may be time soon to put him down. It’s such an odd power to wield. Humbling. Who am I to say it’s time for him to die? He can’t really stand up by himself but when he sees me his eyes get wide and warm and he wags that big beaver tail. Still wagging even if he can’t get up. Such a gentle giant.

He’s 12 years old and has had a wonderful life. I adore him. Truly. Peter and I got him a month before we were married. He was our practice kid and we have adored him.

More than anything I’ll just miss my quiet constant companion.

XO

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Book Report

Book Report

I love to read to the kids at night. Especially now that they are into books that I like! We look forward to what’s happening next in the book. They get ready for bed and we all meet in “the big white bed.”

I read great reviews about Wonder by R.J. Palachio and decided to read it to them, mostly because I was so interested.

Here’s a brief synopsis:

August (Auggie) Pullman was born with a facial deformity that prevented him from going to a mainstream school—until now. He's about to start 5th grade at Beecher Prep, and if you've ever been the new kid then you know how hard that can be. The thing is Auggie's just an ordinary kid, with an extraordinary face. But can he convince his new classmates that he's just like them, despite appearances?
R. J. Palacio has written a spare, warm, uplifting story that will have readers laughing one minute and wiping away tears the next. With wonderfully realistic family interactions (flawed, but loving), lively school scenes, and short chapters, Wonder is accessible to readers of all levels.

I loved it and the kids seemed really into it too. Every night I’d say “Let’s see what Auggie’s up to.” Auggie narrates the first half of the book and the remainder of the book has different characters narrating a few chapters each. More than once the kids would say “Are you crying again, Mom?” I was moved on so many different levels. As a mother, a sister, and something I hadn’t felt in a long time, a 5th grader.  Sometimes we’d talk about the book after we read, sometimes not. I liked hearing their reactions to things. How other people reacted to the way Auggie looks and what they said. More than once H&F were horrified at how cruel people can be. Even parents of other kids. Strangely, I appreciated that harsh truth and the fact that I could expose the kids to it somewhat safely through a book. People can be shitty. On the flipside, people can also be wonderful, shiny and brave.

I’m trying to decide on the next read. They’re really jonesing for the sequel to The Genius Files, and I’ll probably cave. It’s a good series. Lots of cool facts, action and likeable characters, which keeps Finny P interested.

Currently, I’m reading the novel The Paris Wife, about Ernest Hemingway and his first wife, Hadley. Even though it’s a novel, I find it fascinating. I LOVE tales of the brilliant writers in Paris during the 20s. Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris was so magical to me.

I knew a little of Hadley Hemingway, which I discovered while researching what to name my darling Hadley, but this book makes me want to know more.

Reading has been a lovely refuge lately. Do you ever feel completely overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information being pummeled at you everyday?

Yup. That’s me.

Taking a break and blocking it all out.

Happy Tuesday, peanuts.  

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