NBFF

I'm going to be really honest about something.  The term "best friend" kind of bugs me.  As a child, it certainly didn't.  I had several!  Robin, from Day 1.  We were inseparable.  When I moved away at age 6, we stayed very close.  We moved back to Texas after 8th grade, and once again, Robin and I fell right back into our friendship even though we went to different high schools.  Best friends once again, and then college room mates and room mates again after she finished law school.  Now living in Chicago, I still love her deeply and wish I could see her all the time.

However, during those years I also had Gina, currently living in Manhattan and still one of my closest and dearest even though we hardly get a chance to talk or see each other.  Angela.  We went to high school together and were also "best friends."  And while we lived in New Jersey, I had Sue.  Also, a bestie.  See, things are already getting confusing.

Now, though, in my adult hood I have a growing disdain for the term.  I know, I have issues.  But truly, I have so many wonderful and amazing friends.  Wish I could think of a word other than amazing.  Great.  Honorable.  Kind.  Loyal.  Funny.  Remarkable.  A few have proven themselves to be in-the-trenches-loyal-to-the-bone and I know the minute I got the call that something horrible had happened they would immediately be at my side.  Some I have had for 45 years and some for a fraction of that time...but I could not say that any one of them is the best.  That would mean that others are not the best!  Why does this bug me?  I'm not completely sure but it does.

Instead of giving them labels, they just are.  Some I see more often than others, some live far away, but all are great and so very important to me.  I just don't think if someone said, "who is your best friend?" I could come up with a good answer.

Just a Regular Day

Well, here we are...ten years later.  The place I wanted to be.  All of this is really effed up, you know because you can't get your head around it.  If Z had lived, we most likely would not have had the life we have now...our path would have been different and I simply cannot imagine not having this life.  See?  Effed up.  So we kind of walk away from those kinds of thoughts.  They are not productive and get us nowhere.

While today isn't really like any other day, for the most part it will have to be!  Iain is in Seattle and Duncan is out of school so the chaos of all three of them at home (for the third day in a row!  with one more to go! gee willikers!) takes over.  I had thought about taking all of them to the zoo but a clearer head prevailed this morning and think maybe the local library and Chick Fil A will do.  Maybe we will Christen my new Kichen Aid?  Make Aunt Becky a birthday card?  It's kind of rainy and cloudy so indoor fun is best.  Right now the boys have every blanket and pillow on Finn's bed and are pretending it's their ship and the carpet is the water.  They have kidnapped Claire's teddy bear and just told her the bad news that her bear has been shredded up by Finn (a shark) in the ocean.  That's pretty good.

Happy Birthday Z.

Gosh I love this kid. He is a baseball freak. Loves it. And it's really fun to watch him love it. We are playing coach pitch this fall with the same team from last spring. Games are a bit of a drive but Claire and Finn have fun running around and they are big enough now that I can relax a bit and just let them. Tonight, the weather was spectacular and it was just a super night.

The Help

Ten Years

I remember sitting in a chair in our living room, facing the window, across from Iain and my mom.  The words "I just want it to be ten years from now" coming out of my mouth.  I am pretty sure I was not thinking that everything would be fine in ten years...probably just that I did not want it to be now.  Because now was so brutal and horrific that it felt like it would take me ten years to move an inch from that place.  I also remember saying that I was pretty sure I would never feel joy again.

So, voila!  Here I am.  Ten years later.  It's such a difficult thing, to try to figure out how I feel vs. how I thought I would feel.  In some respects, life is so much better than I ever thought it would be and in some respects it is no different.  That feeling of grief for your child just never goes away.  No matter how fast you try to outrun it, you never can.  I can so easily drum up those feelings that I felt in those first weeks and months after he died but most times I dare not.  Sometimes I do, though.  It feels necessary.  I don't find it necessary to visit where he is laid to rest, so maybe this is my "visit the cemetery." 

It's hard not to stare it right in the face...this ten year anniversary.  But, where I am now is very, very good.  It is very, very bright and wonderful and full of wonder.  I dare not entertain anyone who starts to go down the "if he hadn't died" road, indicating we would not have the children we do have...the living, breathing ones.  That is something that not only will we never know, but it does not matter.  None of the what if's matter.  Learned that lesson the hard way, huh?  He did die.  And we do have these living, breathing children.  No platitudes necessary.  And speaking of these children, somehow it has all worked out just the way it was supposed to.  God sent them to us just as he sent us Ziggy...I do know that for sure.  Some day I might have answers, and I might not, but that doesn't really matter to me anymore either.  

I like to think that I no longer have one foot in the grave, longing to be with my dead child.  I no longer dwell on the fact that he is dead.  I no longer define myself by his death.  That is what ten years does.  But that's about where it ends.  He is still as important and as real, but even more important and more real are the three that followed.  

It got below 90 degrees today, y'all.

Seriously. Just look at him.

First

Duncan started first grade this week. I am both shocked and thrilled about this. When we bought this house in May, we bought it mainly because the door that he would exit every day after school is visible from my kitchen window and my front door.

See that hallway in the background? That third window from the end? That's his class. And the window in the foreground? I rest my case. So, when the ink was not yet dry on the papers, we went over to the school to get him registered. And were told that first grade was full for next year, thus he was on a wait list for a spot. No, no, no...I know what you are thinking. It's not a private school! It's our neighborhood public school. After the feeling that I was going to vomit had passed, I immediately scoured the web for possible solutions. After all, when feeling totally out of control there is certainly something you can find on the internet that will help you feel like you have something you can do. Read all the rules and regulations and whatnot and it was a fairly grim outlook. Basically, if no one moved or otherwise gave up their spot, we would be sent to an overflow school of unknown location. Over the next six weeks we visited the new school, called the district, waited for the new principal to come on board and looked at every possible outcome.

Once everyone was back in their offices in late July we pounced on them again, to meet the new principal and hope our options had improved. We were told that they might get a waiver allowing more than 22 students in the class, and if Duncan was #1 or #2 on the list then he would have a spot. Lots of vaguery. So then I did what any other totally panicky momma bear would do and I started calling in favors and leaving messages for people at the Superintendent's office. Lo and behold just a week later they called us, assuring us that Duncan does indeed have a spot.

Drop off yesterday went off splendidly...a real 180 from last year. Two days in and we are going strong. No tears, no "I don't want to go to school"...nothing. All enthusiasm. Hooray!!!

How is summer almost over? How does he start first grade in three weeks? Summer starts off fun and great and exciting then lags a bit, but towards the end I always want it to last just a bit longer. Seems like there are just a few more things that I want to do that I know we wont have time for. I start to pine for time that is not yet lost, not yet over. While I do enjoy the routine and structure of fall, with school and Wednesday night church, it is not without its headaches of homework and waking up in time to brush teeth and get dressed and making sure the right clothes are clean. I think there are times this summer when Duncan wore the same Beatles tee shirt for at least four days in a row. And no one noticed. This summer we didn't take any grand vacations and Duncan only did one week of day camp, so almost the entire time was spent at home or someplace close by, hanging out...swimming...watching cartoons...playing. I know I'll miss that.

In with the new

Duncan's bike and scooter got stolen last week so we at least replaced the bike. We went up a size, but it fits him great and even though he seemed to be viscerally attached to his old (and first) bike, he loves the new one. Oh and that school in the background? Yes, that is the school he should go to in a few weeks. See how close it is? I can see the door he will/would come out of from my front door. More on that later.

Please ignore the unmowed grass in the background. And the ugly dead shrubs. We've had record heat, you know. But as for the focus of these pictures, this boy Finn. He is changing quickly and becoming a friendly, sweet, eager to please child. He is the first to give a hug and a kiss to those he loves and to narrate the events of the day. He lights up (see bottom photo) when he sees Duncan come into view. He has the potential to be our only late sleeper, but is rarely given the chance due to early risers #1 and #2. He loves books, trains, trucks, tractors, M&M's, raw carrots and apples. He is not interested in cake, pizza, hot dogs, spaghetti, hamburgers, bread of any kind, or tortillas. Will quickly say "no like it." He will eat numerous ice cream sandwiches, though. We love you Finn!

Several times a day, I find Claire on something...a counter top, a table, etc...and often times she has a glass or cup and water is involved. I am trying to find ways to channel this curiosity for good.

Playing with my new toy. Love that we've upgraded our camera and now need to learn to use it! Day twenty million of over 100 degree heat in Texas so the only way to tolerate the swingset is with the water hose! Everyone loves it. Summer going way too fast, but looking forward to the routine and rhythm of fall.

I am trying to stay rational and not get overly emotional but today is the last day in our house (and technically it's not even ours anymore!) and tomorrow is Duncan's last day of kindergarten. Sniff.

Traditionally, I do not handle change well. I do not handle things coming to and end well, nor do I handle saying good bye very easily. Even you, crappy old dishwasher. But big, mature trees...I shall miss you most of all.

Today will be a full day. Iain is running stuff out to the dump so that we don't leave any trash for the new owners. I am washing final (ha! will have access to my new washing machine like, tomorrow, but still...it feels so FINAL) loads of laundry, packing up the few dishes we kept unpacked to use, and being amazed at how much stuff we still have to pack. I also need to order cupcakes for Duncan's last day of kinder/birthday celebration, and we have to replace the hall closet door because of this:

We have measured our children in a messy, willy nilly way, but measured them none the less. I know I could take the measurements and start a new door but for some reason I want to take this one. So, Iain, being the great husband, is going to try to get a new door today and replace it...because he has nothing better to do.

Moving van comes first thing in the morning, and they will also come pick up the PODS. Then **poof** the house will be empty. I suppose I will bring Duncan by after school tomorrow, to say good bye. Choke.

But really, I am super excited about our new house. More about that later!

Last Saturday on Saxon Street.

Today is the last Saturday in our current home. We've been here about 11 and a half years, so that's about 650 Saturdays, give or take a few. The first Saturdays were just Iain and me, probably working in the yard, sleeping late, going to movies and me cooking really nice dinners with food from Central Market. Oh, we also drank alot of wine and kept a spreadsheet of what we drank, the price, how we liked it, etc...oh the life.

Then, in 2001 our Saturdays were initially all about trying to have a baby through intense medical intervention and how we'd pay for it. Then pregnancy! A great portion of 2001 were pregnant Saturdays, full of hope and joy and baby showers. Then Saturdays in 2001 were about death and grief and sorrow. Those were the darkest Saturdays of all. Excruciating. They seemed endless and only nightfall brought some relief.

Those Saturdays lasted a long time. I don't have alot of memories of how we filled our days for a few years, but we slowly emerged back into a life.

In about 2004, Saturdays become good and great again. Hope was involved. Iain started an MBA program and was gone for two Saturdays a month, and once again, pregnancy! Those Saturdays that Iain was gone were hard at first, but after a bit became a bit of a little treasure. While pregnant with Duncan is was some nice alone time for me. Total freedom! Little did I know how special that alone time would be. Iain would have to leave for class on Friday night, and would not be home until Saturday night. Wow, while I would not trade for that again it sure does seem particularly lovely now. Once Duncan was born those Saturdays changed but were still okay. I am sure it seemed really difficult with a newborn but seriously. It was ONE baby. My mom and sister were living back in town at this point so Saturdays became alot about family time with a new baby.

Those were mostly very good Saturdays! Although, at the time, they could seem long and lonely. Not alot of structure with newborns. Alot of moment to moment existence and alot of that nice freedom gone. Poof! But still, looking back....one baby!

Once Claire and Finn came along, Saturdays got a little more hectic. At first, they were just a blur. Iain and I running on very little sleep, one kid stops napping and two babies sleeping in the dining room (for four months.) I honestly don't know how we did it, but we did. So now, Claire and Finn are two and a half, and Duncan is almost six and our Saturdays have a fairly nice rhythm. Certainly easier than it has been in years. They are all old enough to go in the back yard and keep themselves busy, or play in their rooms...but seem most content when they are in the same room as Iain and me. Sometimes I think the size of our house would have no bearing on how many children we would have underfoot. They just like to be with us. So we hang out, play tee ball, swing high, have cheetah runs, play basketball, chat with neighbors, eat, climb, scream, laugh, and get through our Saturdays on Saxon Street.

Today was a crazy one...this last Saturday. Packing with all three of them under foot is challenging. Claire loves to put things in boxes and carry things around, so she undoes alot of what I have just done. Duncan seems a bit anxious about it all and wants to know where his things are...I inadvertently packed his baseball pants and he had to wear shorts to his game today. It caused him some initial stress. Finn just runs around with cars. As long as he has those, he is unfazed. We got them all cleaned (well 2 out of 3), fed, and to bed and will close the chapter on this routine of our lives. To start anew next Saturday.

Pack, rats!

So, here is how I pack.

Feel inspired. Tape one box together. Walk around in stupor for ten - twenty minutes trying to figure out what to put in box. Finally decide. Fill box. Feel proud. Then feel overwhelmed. Go sit. Stare at house. Walk from room to room examining how much stuff is still left. Make no plan. Tend to children's needs. Check email. Brush hair. Pace. Try to decide whether or not to have another cup of coffee. Wash hands. Look for reading glasses. Find newspaper and read Arts & Life section to confirm new Johnny Depp movie is not worth the babysitting money. Disassemble twins high chairs to find unspeakable things on the underside of seat. Throw seat covers in washing machine, on sanitize, and stand in awe of wonderful washing machine that is soon to belong to mother and sister because previous owner is leaving me her Whirlpool Duet Sport. Am bounced back to reality that we are moving in less than two weeks and need to pack. Repeat.

A Moving Experience

So, we have sold our house, and apparently bought a new one! We are moving! In just under four weeks. I am very excited, and very overwhelmed. May was busy, as it was. But now, we must pack and do everything else that is involved in moving all of our worldly goods to another location, along with three small children. Things that are keeping me up at night include:

• When do we dismantle and move the cribs? We can move our things into the new house on June 2nd, and must be out of our current home by midnight on June 3rd. Do we save the cribs for last? Do them first? My head. It swims.
• Where do we sleep on June 2nd? Current house? New house? Must have all beds in one place.
• Duncan's last day of school is also June 2nd! That just adds to the mix somehow.
• Okay, so my list is not as long as I thought it would be.

We had a small garage sale today, got rid of some stuff and made about $100. Not enough to buy the camera that I want but enough to justify some Thai food perhaps. Gratefully, our parents all came to help with the kids and it really was kind of fun. We have about two weeks until we close on both houses, then about three more days until we have to be out of here. Sometimes I just sit and stare at all the stuff and overwhelm myself.

Should I move the twins into big girl and big boy beds when we move? See, more questions.

Should we keep the twins in the same room or put the boys together?

Argh.

I am also trying to eat from the pantry and freezer. I would really like to eat up what we've got and not either throw away or move frozen food and canned goods. Things might get rather creative around here for the next two weeks or so! Tonight I did pretty good. I made a homemade pasta sauce with a can of organic tomatoes, oregano, garlic, basil. Yummy. Cooked up some frozen tortellini. Used a can of Pillsbury pizza dough and made a kind of ghetto version of bruschetta but it was good. Let me tell you. Oh, and the 8 green beans that I picked from our garden! We can each have one, then three lucky folks get an extra. Feeding my family.

Game On!

 

Oh, we love tee ball.  We love, love, love it!  Everyone goes and everyone has fun.  Today, my heart almost burst when Duncan was awarded the game ball.  I know coach is most likely picking one kid a week at random, cuz they all play their little hearts out, but it does make you swell a bit.

House Love

So, it appears we have sold our house. We are out of the option period, and are not set to close until May 31 which is both good and bad. The offer came very quickly (2 days) and so far all has gone well. It is a buyer's market so much to Iain's dismay there was not much bargaining and gaming to be done but the offer was fair and we accepted. I have many very mixed emotions. This house...well, we love this house. There are so many really good things about this house that I try to put into words but sometimes fail. But I'm going to try again.

• When I am lying on the big, comfy green couch that was a hand me down from my sister, and it's the middle of the day, and the lights are off, and the wood blinds are half-way down on the big picture window nearby, and the ceiling fan is on it's just one of those perfect moments. I can't even say why. Everything just seems right. I think it has to do with my childhood and being on the back screened-in porch at my grandparents' farm, on an old twin bed, with a fan on and windows open, hearing the trains go by and the cows mooing in the pasture. That memory is one of my greatest happy places, and the feeling I get on the green couch is similiar.


• Six (of our ten) windows look out onto green. We are on a corner lot, facing a green belt. Only one window looks onto a neighbors house, and it's a small one over the washing machine. The others face front, with neighbors across the street and all the trees in between. I love it. I have to have big trees to be happy.


• There are only two doors into this house. Front and back. When Iain is out of town, I feel confident that I can hear anything that might be weird like boogie men. Not there there has ever been a boogie man, but if there were I would hear him coming. I have a hard time being a grown up in these instances.


• Our neighbors are great. The least of these are a bit nutty and weird, but (I assume) harmless. Everyone else is fantastic and we will miss them.


• Our house is so small that in case of fire (or above-mentioned boogie man) I could get them and escape quickly. I lie in bed at night and obsess about this.

This was our first home together, and we have been here since January 2000. I have loved, loved, loved this house. But soon, I shall blog about all that drives me crazy about it. That will make it easier to leave.