Harriette Audelle Saunders 1918 - 2011

March 3rd, 2011

My sweet Grandmother, known lovingly as "GG" to my girls, passed away this morning.

We are all tremendously sad. She was truly a remarkable lady.

I already miss her so much. I miss her voice. I miss her perfume. I miss her soft, manicured hands. I miss her lovely white hair.

I know I will always miss her.

I will miss the sounds of her cuckoo clock and her grandfather clock. The deep softness of her couch. The beauty and serenity of her garden.

She was so strong. So vibrant. So sharp-witted. She lived on her own and drove herself around until very recently and had standing appointments to get her hair and nails done. She remembered everyone's birthdays. She gave wonderful hugs and kisses. She had a throw pillow that said "if I'd known having grandchildren was this much fun, I would have had them first", which she gave to my mom a few years ago. She was both thrilled and incredulous at being a great-grandmother.

She said things like "Oh, for Heaven's sake", "Isn't that neat?" and "Gee, whiz." She could use her fingers in her mouth to whistle louder than anyone I know. She called everyone "honey". She always had a box of See's candy on the table, a bowl of M&Ms out and a basket of Beanie Babies in the corner. She had beautiful handwriting. She was a lefty. She was a lady. She wore pantsuits and blouses and things with embroidery. She put out unique and whimsical decorations for every holiday. She loved and collected teddy bears. She liked to watch Jeopardy. She wore a heart locket necklace with pictures of her two children in it. She liked the chicken club sandwich from Jack-in-The-Box. She enjoyed watching the birds in her garden, especially hummingbirds. She liked wind chimes. She loved Spring. She was genuinely clever and had a great sense of humor. She would sometimes close her eyes and clasp her hands together in delight when she laughed. She loved to hear anything we had to tell her about our lives. She was upbeat and positive and always smiling. She and her late husband, my Grandpa Fred, called each other "pal".

It was my honor and privilege to be her granddaughter. Whenever we visited her, she always said how lucky she was. I think we're the lucky ones.

FRIDAY, MARCH 17, 2011 - a wee bit o' fun

Saint Patrick's Day

I've been feeling rather gloomy lately. Between the utter devastation and ongoing crisis in Japan, the murderous wrath of Qaddafi in Libya, and my grandmother's stroke 11 days ago, I just feel like I'm in a bit of a tailspin of negative emotions.

While my girls are allowed to be blissfully unaware of the tragedies in the world, I'm having a hard time falling asleep at night - much like I did for many weeks after 9/11.

I allowed Sadie to watch a bit of CNN with me last Friday and I think I said "Oh my God" about 10 times in ninety seconds as the images and footage of the earthquake and tsunami flashed on our T.V. screen - so much for keeping that phrase out of her vocab. I did my best to explain what had happened there, and her eyes widened as she gasped, "oh no! we have to save the world!" If only, kiddo.

Luckily I don't have to look far to find a little bit of joy.

This morning it came in the form of a mischievous leprechaun who turned Sadie's eggs and Lilah's yogurt green. When we arrived at preschool, we were informed that some leprechauns had gotten into their paint and scampered about!

then there were Irish dancers to watch, which Lilah loved:

my little lucky charms:

Threenager

I heard this term not too long ago (I forget where) and it made me laugh out loud because, well, it fits:

Mercurial mood swings? Check.
Answering "I know" to almost everything I try to tell her? Check.
Wanting to wear my make up? Check.
Slow as molasses in the morning when we need to get out the door? Check.
Big opinions on what she'll wear or not wear? Check.
Experimenting with attitude and talking back? Check.

So...three and a half is proving to be pretty interesting around here. We've been having more battles than I'm comfortable with, so I'm trying to take a few steps back and examine where my frustration and lack of patience is stemming from. I mean, what do I care if she feels the need to repeat "hair ball" fifty times because it gives her the giggles? Who cares if my hair gets messed up by letting her brush it? Why not get the playdoh out every single day if she's asking for it?

Lately I am feeling the need to grab my girls, hold them close and soak in every nuance of their ages. It's all so fleeting. Lilah is closing in on a year (how did that happen?!) I sometimes can get so caught up in trying to keep crumbs off the floor and sticky fingers out of hair that I'm afraid I could be missing the truest nature of this precious time when they are little.

Everyone and I mean everyone says "enjoy them while they're young!" and for some reason that chipper bit of advice can sometimes really stress me out. Like, how dare I have any moments in which I'm not swooning over my children?

True story at Ann Taylor Loft a couple of weeks ago:

Woman: Oh, your girls are so beautiful.
Me: thank you!
Woman: Mine is all grown up.
Me: how old is yours?
Woman: Seventeen.
Me: Seventeen. What's that like?
Woman: Heartbreaking.
Me: (lump forming in throat) Oh...why?
Woman: Well, we just...we just used to be so close. And don't get me wrong, we have no real problems. We love each other very much. We just aren't...well, we just don't share as much or talk to each other as much anymore.
Me: (voice cracking, looking for box of tissues) Oh, that's my nightmare. I don't want that day to come. Ever.
Woman: (not unkindly) Oh, it will. But you have time. Now when my daughter asks me what I want for my birthday or Mother's Day, I tell her 'a hug' and I really mean it.
Me: (bursting into tears) Oh! Oh, that's so sad! Oh, that makes me so sad! I'm sorry...
(awkwardly making my way out of the store)

Now, some of my long time friends might think, "Aha! There's the weepy, cry-at-toilet-paper-commercials girl I've known forever!" and it's entirely possible that perhaps my hormones have all finally regulated back to their normal state and this will be happening on a regular basis again, but I think I'd better get a grip. Quickly.

I found myself explaining to a friend last night that it seems like Sadie is in a transition from being a toddler who needs to everything to be managed for her to a child who has opinions and ideas that need to be heard, respected and honored. It's a tough one, because her behavior vacillates greatly so I have to be really on the ball at all times in order to deal with her in a way that I can feel okay with and that is fair to her. Like, I have to be okay with letting her slither off the couch onto the floor while she pretends to be Ariel the Little Mermaid, but I have to lay down the law when she starts flopping and bouncing next to her 93 and a half year old great-grandmother or 11 month old sister.

This is about the age when children start to have a few lasting memories, and I'd really like them to be positive ones in which she feels carefree and cherished rather than ones where she feels rebuked and stifled. Just writing that feels bizarre. I mean, my God -- I love these children more than life itself and I want absolutely nothing but the best for them and yet I'm already worried about their lasting memories of me? See what I mean? I need to get a grip and lighten up. I've got a long way to go!

Happy Heart Day!

Lilah love:
Sadie made a Valentine for us at school:

a super cute shirt came in the mail from Nana:

Old School x2: Sadie's onesie from 3 years ago (thanks again, Aunt Shannon!)
and a shout out to the days of passing binder paper notes:

another Valentine outfit:

we made cookies at Aunt Jill's:

Happiness is:

and last but not least, here is video of the girls enjoying the musical cards

that Nana's sister, the wonderful Great Aunt Marilyn sends from Ohio:
Sadie and Lilah with musical cards

30 hour recharge

Aaaaaaaah. I needed that.

While in MA over Christmas, it came to my attention that a dear friend of mine from college (Anne Marie, with whom I am in very limited contact, but that's a whole 'nother story) was going to be starring in a play in her hometown of Phoenix, AZ. It sounded like a really great script.

Since we'd just been rewarded with travel vouchers from Southwest Airlines due to an unexpected and lengthy delay on our trip East, my wheels had already been spinning and trying to hatch a plan for a "mom getaway" for myself.

I contacted the most likely candidate to join me in this adventure, my best friend from college, and plans were set in motion. I kind of didn't want to get my hopes up, but everything came together just perfectly and we had a blast. Bill drove out early Saturday morning from L.A. to meet my plane and we drove straight to another alum/friend's house in nearby Chandler (Monica). We relaxed, talked and snacked for a couple of hours, went to a great dinner, and headed to the theater. The show was excellent and my friend knocked it out of the park, as expected. She's a powerhouse on stage and always a joy to watch.

To our delight, we learned that yet another college pal (Kevin) was in town visiting his kids and was seeing the show as well, so we all gathered at the stage door and surprised Anne Marie. That was my favorite part - I'm a sucker for surprises, both getting and giving. We got a backstage tour and actually got to go onstage too, which was very cool and practically made me swoon with inspiration and the itch to act again as soon as possible.
Then we headed to the cast's favorite bar and did the best we could to catch up on each other's lives over more munchies and drinks. These are people I spent countless hours and many late nights with during our years in the theater department at school. Laughter, tears, the works.
It was definitely bittersweet because we all know that getting together is becoming an increasingly rare luxury as time passes and our individual lives unfold in all their crazy variety.

We said goodnight and met for brunch in the morning to try to squeeze in a little more time together. Before I knew it, Bill was dropping me off at the curb at the airport. It was a total whirlwind but definitely worth it.

I could kick myself for not taking more pictures, but here's what I've got.

Everybody at the bar post show:

Kevin and me:

the next morning at brunch:

me, AM, Monica

me, Bill, AM

me & AM

Oh, and I thought this was funny:

booze & breastmilk
(no one partook of the Bailey's or the Jager - that's just what was in the fridge when I opened it)

Sucker!

A couple of weeks ago, in a moment of tired mommy-shopping-with-two-children weakness, when my 3 year old's eyes glazed over at the sight of a cotton candy confection tulle explosion of a dress, instead of saying "you know, we don't really need a dress for you right now, honey", I caved and bought two.

Total sucker.

(They were actually cheaper than flimsy Halloween costume dresses, and we have a family wedding coming up, but that's beside the point.)
It's scary how easy it is to justify these things! Sadie was practically drooling. She didn't whine or beg or demand. She kind of went into slow motion as she approached the rack. I don't think she even blinked as she stared, slack jawed and starry eyed at them. "Mom," she gushed, "they're so beauuuuuuuuuutiful!"

You get the picture. Anyway, they turned out to be just the thing for getting photos of the girls for the annual Valentine card that I like to send to some far away family and friends. Thanks, Aunt Andi!
It has not escaped my attention that I suppose we might "have to" start amassing some dress-up dresses. Apparently it's all part of totally healthy imaginary play. Just the other day, a mom graciously offered to let Sadie borrow the little mermaid outfit that she had on when I came to pick her up from her first drop-off playdate. I was not particularly happy about the arrangement because essentially it meant that Sadie had succeeded in getting what she wanted by whining and defying my objection, but I appreciated the gesture nonetheless. More to the point, they had to get on with their day and I'm pretty sure that watching our mundane and cliche battle of wills play out in their backyard was not on their agenda.

So yeah, it might be time to get a few dresses for pretend play. But seriously - someone slap me if I ever buy those little plastic high heels...

2011

I stopped making New Year's resolutions a long time ago. I can't think of the last time I did, actually. I'm not sure if that's because I'm lazy or if I disappointed myself one too many times by utterly failing to keep them or what.
For some reason, I am feeling the itch to make some this year. I probably won't spell them out here because more than likely they'd read like a laundry list of all that ails me and you'd want to reach through the computer, take my hand and lead me to the self help section of the nearest bookstore. Or to a therapist's office. (for what it's worth, I'd welcome both trips whole-heartedly and would go willingly - but who has time for that?!)

I've actually never been good at setting realistic, attainable goals for myself. I'm sort of in the Go Big or Go Home camp, but not it a good way. Like, I'll do 200 sit ups and be pissed that my tummy isn't flat when I'm done. Or I'll sit with a friend trying to teach me the basics of knitting and I'll want to scream in frustration when I can't whip up a hat at the end of the hour.

Patience is so not my virtue. Although quotes like "the longest journey starts with the first step" sound really lovely and unquestionably wise, that's not really my bag. If I decide to undertake a "journey" I'm more likely to do the splits (speaking metaphorically here, folks) trying to take the l o n g e s t first step possible, pulling all the muscles in my leg while doing so, and then decide I can't make that trip, and maybe I didn't even really want to get to that destination in the first place. Humph.

This is why, for example, we are coming up on a year of being in our rental house and we still don't have photos on the walls/books on shelves or the girls' playroom organized and functional. It's why I am still carrying a good 20 extra pounds. It's why Lilah's baby book is basically empty and my "filing system" consists of piles of paperwork here and there. It's why my Spanish is still very halting even though I was super gung-ho about brushing up my conversational skills not too long ago...yeah, remember that? It's why I don't go on auditions.

I suspect that somewhere along the line I developed a semi debilitating fear of failure, so that I rarely undertake anything which puts me at risk of not succeeding. It's such a vicious cycle. If I don't even try, how can I accomplish anything? The last thing that I really had some momentum on was my volunteer efforts for Jenny's Light and the MOMS program at El Camino Hospital - and I've basically fizzled out on both. I carry major self-imposed shame with regard to those short lived endeavors. *sigh*

So what am I getting at? I guess just that I want to have a good year. Whatever that means. I want to be a more mindful parent. I want to figure out how to get regular exercise back into my life. (it has been many many many years since I have done any consistent exercise. Yes, years!) I would love to figure out how to stop comparing myself to others. And it would be awesome to be cast in a show.

Okay, I'd better stop there. Wouldn't want to accidentally commit to anything here in the blogosphere. ;)