You’d be a Fool to Turn Down a Pizza

So tonight, we’ve crashed Papa’s one-man party.

And we've crashed it old-school and downright hard.

HE THOUGHT, he’d be in bed by 6:30 PM.

To which we say: BOOOYAH.

Here we are, it is 4 hours ’til bedtime, entertain us Papa, entertain us!

HE THOUGHT, he'd watch Wall Street Week In Review in silence.

and we've said

Have you seen Rudy? Dec is dying to see it!

He THOUGHT, he’d eat leftovers from the fridge - but instead we stroll in with extra large “Roni Pies”......

Tonight, we expected Grouch but got Grace. We were warned about gray but got gold. Hard-shelled was replaced by soft-shelled soul. Sour skeptic replaced by cheerleader.

And I sat back, watched it happen, and wondered why I felt surprised..

On our way over this evening I asked Dec if he thought Papa would be mad that we

were bringing food with us.

To which Dec responded, "why would anyone be mad if you brought them a pizza?”

and as I drove along I realized that I had no response, he was right. You’d be a fool to turn down a pizza.

So tonight, with Roni Pizza, we came and lifted and propped the leg, told stories of Chicken Soup With Rice skits at school, and of PlayDates with Hive Camp Friends.

We told Papa that the weather was cold, dark, and windy. We talked of nothing really. But looking back on it all, it was everything.

And during it all, we shared and savored the roni pies. For a split second, I was home again - a twelve year old girl - on Friday Night, Pizza Night. That is how comfortable, warm, and good it all felt. Tonight, a kind and pizza-loving soul opened to us. And we were happy to be there for it all.

The next generation

I stopped a little boy on the way into art today.
We had just finished a little math "check in" and I noticed that after 30 minutes of work he had answered 2 of the 20 or so questions.
I stopped him, test in hand, to make sure things were ok. He's a bright kid, not exactly a self starter. This leads to some idling.
"You wait here" I motioned to him as he walked by.
When the rest of his classmates were inside, he looked at me.
"I failed you"
What?
"I failed you didn't I?"
"What? No. I just want to make sure you understand everything."
I thought quickly of his home life. It's nothing I could ever know for myself. It's nothing I have ever wanted and if truth be told, it's nothing I could ever wish on anyone.

I sat with him on the floor in the hallway outside the art room. He did a page of his test with relative ease. I find that he loves for me to watch him do his math. "Soooo... it's 2+3=5 because they haven't used the 2 yet?????(!!!)"
His chocolate eyes reflected his inner joy. Successful math + extra attention.

"You know you could never fail me.
I'm very proud of you."

His eyes nodded.

And with that, he was off to art.

It Takes A Moment in a Mid-Town Hospital

There has been a lot that has made me cry in the last few days.

Not the least of which is a short visit to a Mid-Town Manhattan Hospital to see dad

recovering.

It takes about a minute (and not much more than that) in the waiting room of an NYC hospital to put your life into perspective. I'm talking about really big, eye-opening perspective. And also, changing my perspective to see simple, little things differently. Like Dec's lego men as he sees them. In his mind, his lego men are larger and more powerful than they are in my mind.

On Sunday, I had my own gentle reminder that if we were all to throw our most dreadful problems into a large pot, we'd quickly scoop our own problems back out after taking a silent glance at the problems that our neighbors had thrown in.

Sunday, and some days, it all comes down to perspective:

Like that picture up there. It is a proud mother (I know this because she is me). But when I look at that picture, all I see is the smiling 7-year old who took it. She might just be President of the United States of America some day and, won't that just be amazing. Or, she'll be an owner of a deli that serves the most delicious cider donuts you've ever tasted. Either way, I'll love her to the moon and back.

And this picture?

He begged for that helmet kiss. He did! (despite what his shoulders might try to tell you).

And this pic below? This is not a jealous 6-year old, blocking his 3-year-old sister's spotlight. It is a proud older brother saying:

BOOYAH SIS! NICE SKIING!!!!!

I can't wait to ski the trees with you!

Oh, and in there somewhere you might just spot one cute dad in the background. Yup, my hubs works OVERTIME teaching his beautiful children about "perspective" and seeing the world from more than one view.

And this guy?

He's not just a nutty Giants fan.

He's a nutty Giants fan in my winter coat.

And that is something special.

Booyah.

AND THIS? It is NOT a snowy day mess.

It is snowy day brilliance.

And this pajama dancer below, she may appear self-sufficient,

confident,

and full of independence.....

But she still needs her Mommy.

There is one person in this world who she trusts to tie her ballet slippers.

And that lucky person is me. And I savor each tie.

Boy do I.

And this pic below? This is not just "cooking a chicken with Nonie one afternoon...."

(first of all, we cooked two - one was for leftovers...)

This was actually an afternoon of listening to her ask me "will the chicken bite me?", each time she brought the salt and pepper close to the chicken's soft flesh.

And in this skiing pic? Nonie is actually saying GO FASTER MOM!!!! (despite what you might think, given that temps were 100 below outside)

See this kid below? When he gets off the school bus, he's actually NOT an "I Have a Headache Today and All I Really Want To Do is Lie Down along" 6-year old. He is (second to me) the most snuggliest cuddle bug in our whole family. This kid needs a hug. Most minutes of most days, he needs a hug.

This child could sit on my lap for decades (especially while looking out the back window at the forest and in the early morning , with a cup of Earl Grey tea in his hands).

And I love him. Tea Cup and all.

Boy Do I Love Him.

And this picture - a family of four happy snowmen?

This isn't three happy snowmen with one crazy-haired snowman (second from left) melting in a mid-January thaw.

Rather, it is three happy snowmen surrounding one awe-inspired, lucky as lucky gets, super-grateful woman who feels like - even if she melted into the ground tomorrow, she's been blessed with the best of the best.

It Takes A Moment in a Mid-Town Hospital to realize that

life is far to short to take this serious world too seriously.

It Takes Just a fleeting second in a Mid-Town Hospital to confirm that

I'm blessed with the best, in more ways than one.

To "Papa", to my Dad,

Thanks for accepting the spice drops

I brought to you this evening with the grace of Sweet Toothed Man.

I love you for that.

And for so much more.

Brain Fart

I am not sure of the statistics but I am pretty sure I am losing brain cells with every feeding. That and my ravenous appetite make for longs days while on maternity leave. When I am not feeding the baby or feeding myself I am staring off into space or watching the real life desperate housewives of any given city. Yup. That's what my last 2 brain cells can handle. Housewives drinking copious amounts of wine and wearing the most outrageous clothing screaming at each other about whose life is worse. WHAT?

Some hours are spent playing Star Wars vs Army Guys vs Firemen. In an attempt to quell the blood shed I like to lighten things up, like telling X that Darth Vader likes to drive the firetruck and he always needs his coffee before he battles anyone.

Another couple of hours are spent kissing and staring at these faces. I mean, how can you resist? Kell loves to snuggle. So far that is his best quality. I am sure we will figure out more in these coming months but I pretty much spend my "free" time cuddling him. X is onto us that we do this most of the night too...

And this one can't get enough of his baby bro. He always wants to kiss him and I am pretty sure that is 99% of the reason that Kell has greasy hair. He is constantly being touched, caressed, cooed at and occasionally manhandled.

It's been fun.

Writing this is my first step at building my brain cells back.

Tonight I might even pick up a book.

Look out world.

cookies for breakfast

Two of them.

Can you believe

that this is all I can put into words right now. 

Nothing else wants to make sense. 

 

So I'll tell you that I ate cookies for breakfast

and thought about my little angel

who watched me eat them.

"That Guy"

Yes to all the sistas who were there for the story.

Let it be known that "this is the picture that Maddy took".

the other guys

She is overweight and slightly dramatic,

she arrives late to retrieve her daughter regularly.

I have never given her life much thought before,

nobody has. It seems.

Her daughter is immature and behind in her homework.

She would rather color, or stare into space, or chat.

Fine with me, always has been.

But I have never given her life much thought.

They bicker at pickup, the two redheads... with white eyelashes. Stark white.

Never seen anything like it, and I have a red headed sister.

The mother is late, the night is dark, the wind is howling, the roads are ice.

The girl is whiny. The mother is tired.

She opens up to me, just a bit, in her exhaustion.

She dreads going home to the cold apartment across from price chopper.

She has no dinner prepared.

Just "junk food" which they eat too much of, she tells me, since they can walk to the market.

She can't afford this much longer. This school, this home, this life.

She tells me with tears in her eyes. It is hard. Very hard. She is alone with this girl.

This girl who is behind.

She has tried it all. Nothing is working. She is overwhelmed. The girl is loud.

Happy to see her.

The Mom is cold. Hard. Done.

They leave and the Mom hopes the car will make it home.

The girl laughs.

My eyes are finally open.

I will never be the same.

oui.

yes.
yes i did.

she looked like an angel. like you.
she had your nose. your deep brown eyes.
she tilted her head down while talking to us.
she looked strong and healthy.
she looked sure. sure of her decision.
sure of us.
sure of you.
she looked like she loved you.
she looked like she'll always love you.
love us.
she looked ready.

HER

i thought i would be prepared. i knew it would come some day.

i thought it would be a while from now-

i thought i would have time to discuss the answer with

honey.

not the little one, not the hairy one.

the one with whom i discuss all answers.

i didn't think the question would come today.

this morning.

with honey 400 miles away-

the clock screaming that we were late-

me sitting on the (closed) potty waiting to do her hair-

i didn't think it would come as i was hollering to hurry up-

i didn't think i would hear it from the next room

as she was feeding her hamsters.

"mom-

bugsy, i am not going to answer you until you get in here-

but mom, did you see her-

bugs, i told you, i am not coming into see them- we have to go- come on-

but mom- did you see HER??

bugs, get in here. see who?

my birthmother. did you see her?"...

to be continued

Let Your Acquaintances Be Many

First Reading

A reading from the Book of Sirach



Let your acquaintances be many,
but one in a thousand your confidant.

A faithful friend is beyond price, no sum can balance his worth.

A faithful friend is a life-saving remedy.



**** Just cleaning out files and came across a copy of the readings we handed
to all the readers at our wedding ceremony.
(Typed in large font, of course - I was way more detail-oriented back then).



Let your acquaintances be many, but one in a thousand your confidant.


To dusting off old file cabinets!

Thoughts from a lucky student.

Yesterday he asked me if the
box that I work in has a bathroom in it.

When I inquired about "what box"?
he explained, "you know, the small room with four walls that you sit in with your computer..."

And, after further reflection, the space is really best described as a box, though I've never viewed it that way.

Yikes! a box!
(It might be time for a change.)

Yesterday he declared that he knew what he wanted to be when he grew up.
Which, for the record, is a long way off since he is a sprightly 6 years of age.
Either that or he has already grown up cause the kid blasts me from reality with
age-old wise one liners on a nightly basis. In many ways, he is my spiritual guide.

Without further ado from behind the shower curtain,
he declared he would be an author. One day. He'd write great stories because he had
so many great stories to tell.

As my heart flipped and then flopped, I immediately declared to him that
I would faithfully read, and then own, and then cherish each of his books.
Clearly.


I learn so much from him.

I learn so much from him.

These are just two of many Lessons from Him.

Oh what an incredible teacher he is.
Oh what a lucky student I am.