All good (and even OK) things must come to an end

Fair reader (and I feel it's safe to put it in the singular, as I have no audience at this point),

This post shall be the last in the basket. I had intended to jot down sage reflections on my time as a blogger, but alas, I am devoid of any such thoughts.

May your blogging be bright. Peace out.
-2kool4skool

PS Please check out the 3 blogs that I frequent (and where I occasionally post comments):
http://www.tony-c.blogspot.com/
http://2562reno.blogspot.com/
http://www.blogrevolt.com/

Not quite what I pictured

I should know better than to get my hopes up for Mother's Day. I mean, it's a randomly assigned date which means that as days go, it has just as much of a chance as any other to be great, mediocre or, well, crummy. And so...

The day started out great, with my husband and rugrats letting me sleep in as they went to get "tasty treats" from the bakery and a latte. That was pretty much the high point.

After that, I decided to get a little weeding done, and when I went to grab the yard debris can from behind the gate, there was a little mother's day present waiting for me: A dead raccoon, there on the ground. Some background: we had seen a raccoon just the day before in our yard (we've seen them on and off, but almost always at night) but this was during the day. And he looked a little shaky, which apparently he was.

So, after I ran screaming into the house, my poor husband had to go and shovel him into a bag and then put him in a can by the curb.

(Side note: normally, the deceased critter would just go in with the regular garbage (!) but because there is a distemper epidemic right now, animal control IS taking the carcasses. They can't, however, go onto private property, so the person I talked to said that we could just put him (her) in the street (!) or we could bag him and tag him, as they say, for pickup.)

After that, it was lunch time... so not having much of an appetite, we decided to head to the mall for a little retail therapy. Upon arrival, we discovered that half of the mall was shut down due to a power outage. OF course, the side with "Things Remembered" and "The Picture People" was open. But none of our regular stops were open for business.

Defeated, we headed home as it was nap time for the cherubs (and, we hoped, for us too) BUT after listening to crying/whining for 45 mins., we gave up and put them in the stroller for a walk. It soon became apparent that neither child would doze off on the walk, either, but we decided to continue our stroll. And then, of course, it started to rain.

Happy Mother's Day.

Two steps forward

And one step back. We've had a few good nights- not even having "pacifier replacement calls"- but alas, not the last 2 nights. Poor little Dr. Dre- again, with the cold and runny nose, up every hour-or-so. I am somehow able to generate sympathy for her in the middle of the night; as tired as I am, I still feel sorry that she is feeling yucky can't breathe clearly (which is hard enough but add to that equation that she then can't suck on her pacifier and you double the problem).

Once day breaks, though, my sympathy seems to fade away! I wake up cranky and irritated that I got such a lousy night's sleep. I am short-fused and irritable. Even though I know just three hours earlier I was empathetic, now I am just pathetic.

My fellow Americans

I am outraged at the Terri Schiavo media circus, but not for all of the same reasons most of my like-minded friends and family are. Of course, the fact that the PRESIDENT AND CONGRESS tried to get involved, Tom DeLay, Jeb Bush, et. al. all used it for personal political gain, the money and time wasted by the abuse of our court system, etc. does make me angry.

And that it is being reported that "The call is being echoed across talk radio and from many influential religious conservatives: Judges must favor protecting life, and failing that, their authority must be weakened. "It's going to be the impetus for hundreds of thousands of Americans to reform the judiciary," said Randall Terry, a veteran anti-abortion crusader."
http://www.kansascity.com/mld/kansascity/news/nation/11283789.htm




I am angry that a key part of this whole case is continually glossed over.

I asked my husband (who is very bright, well-read, and certainly has been subjected to the same bombardment about the Schiavo case as the rest of us) if he knew how Terri came to be in a persistent vegetative state. He didn't know, and guessed a car crash.

Terri's condition was a direct result of her bulimia.

One of the best articles that DOES focus on this is from The St. Petersberg Times Floridian, "The lost lesson of Terri Schiavo" By GARY D. FOX (Published October 26, 2003-Mr. Fox was the lead trial lawyer for Terri and Michael's malpractice case).

The article says (in part) "Terri suffered from an eating disorder known as bulimia nervosa, commonly called bulimia. The disease causes its victims to overeat ("binge") and soon thereafter vomit ("purge"). The cycle of binging and purging is extremely dangerous. The human heart, to work properly, requires a balance of the body's electrolytes. Vomiting can upset the electrolyte balance and cause abnormal heart rhythms that can lead to heart attack. That is what happened to Terri. One night, Terri purged, which caused her potassium level to drop low enough to cause a heart attack. Before fire rescue arrived and took her to the hospital, Terri's brain had been deprived of oxygen for long enough to produce catastrophic brain damage."

(to read the whole article:
http://www.sptimes.com/2003/10/26/Floridian/The_lost_lesson_of_Te.shtml

I do consider the death of Terri a tragedy. And this could be an opportunity to educate and elucidate the very real dangers involved with the obsession of being thin, explore the connection between that and the epidemic of childhood obesity, and perhaps start finding ways to help prevent both from happening.

According to Wikipedia, "Eating disorders have one of the highest death rates of all mental illnesses. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bulimia

But, of course, this part of the tragedy is not nearly as thrilling to those in the Red States who would instead prefer to take this opportunity to jam their right wing agenda down our throats. Any time that Randall Terry is involved, I know we're in for a disturbing ride.

Architect? or Contractor?

The princess has been showing shades of a potential future career in home building/design/renovation. We have been living in a construction zone as workers finally get our stairwells up and finished. Last week, as we were leaving, I said goodbye to the guys working downstairs, after which the princess called down, "Don't forget to do the upstairs." Such helpful supervisory skills just can't be taught!

As we plan for an even bigger renovation, the husband and I INCESSANTLY discuss our options, and the princess has clearly been absorbing it all. First, it began with her telling me, as she placed pillows all over the floor, which pillow was which new "room"- "This is the living room, the kitchen would become my bedroom, my bedroom would become the playroom, this would be the bathroom..." Such visionary skills just can't be taught!

Yesterday, we watched as she took a pencil, drew a new sketch saying, "This is the new kitchen, it's going to look like this. And this-" she drew a crescent shape-"is where we will put the bananas." Such attention to detail just can't be taught!

Free Space comes to life!

At last, I have actually started my home organization business, made official by yesterday's site launch!
www.findfreespace.com
Along with the exhilaration of being an entrepreneur, I have this odd edgy anxiety, too. I suspect the source of that anxiety is not knowing how it is all going to pan out, life-wise. How I am going to be able to balance all of the elements in my life without shortchanging any of them? We shall see. In the interim, I am tickled to have my own website for my own business- an exciting start.

Put DOWN the Butterfinger

Ever since being pregnant with- and giving birth to- the doctor, I have had a killer sweet tooth. Sure, I have always liked ice cream, and indeed, I fall prey to the "I need something sweet after dinner" thing, but this aching for sugar is a relatively recent thing.

Previously in my life, I would be able to have cookies or candy in the house, and I would have one or two and be satisfied. Friends couldn't believe that I could have a candy dish with "kisses" and never touch them. But all of that has changed, and in the last year, I have become-along with millions of other people- a sugar addict.

I crave it. I would choose to eat something full of sugar over pretty much anything else. And one piece or cookie doesn't cut it any more. (If that's not a sign of addiction, I don't know what is!)

So, today I am going cold turkey. I am fighting the sugar addiction by cutting out the most obvious offenders, both big- no dessert after dinner, no vanilla nut granola or cinnamon almonds- and small- no sugar in the coffee, only sugarfree gum and mints.

Of course, I know pretty much everything HAS sugar in it. My goal is to lose the craving and the need for more so that fruit will once again taste sweet... and a mocha seems like an indulgent outrageously sweet treat!

Twilight Zone

Two nights ago I woke up at 6:30 a.m.

Why is that noteworthy? Well, that was the ONLY time I had been awake ALL NIGHT. That's right, both the princess AND the doctor did not make a peep all the way through the night. We looked at each other in disbelief and wondered if indeed we were paying a visit to the twilight zone.

Not to worry, blog fans, as it was JUST one night. But still, worth noting. I seriously felt like soon we'd hear the Rod Serling voice over:
"The night of Mr. and Mrs. L has ended now. A night marked by a departure not only from the 10:30 p.m., 12:30 a.m., 2:50 a.m. and 4:20 a.m. wakeups, but also from the fear of recurring lack of sleep breakdown as they, howsoever briefly, traveled through....THE TWILIGHT ZONE."

Don't believe everything you read

A friend passed along a copy of the NYT Jan. 30th "Sunday Styles" section which features an article titled "Mommy (And Me): A generation of new parents are telling tales from the crib in blogs that revel in self-absorption" by David Hochman. While I appreciate that the author, and those interviewed are attempting to formulate a hypothesis about why so many of us are doing this (approximately 8500 people have blogs about their children, according to the article, citing David L. Sifry of Technorati), I do not agree with the majority of the perspectives presented. Many of the "experts" interviewed focused on the idea that by blogging, parents can make parenting about themselves- and that it is a natural outgrowth of a generation that is "all about me." To wit: "The baby blog in many cases is an online shrine to parental self-absorption."

Althought "the basket" is not exclusively a "baby blog" I would probably fall into that category if forced to be filed under one topic.

Much of what I write is focused on expressing how I feel about my life experience, which currently that of being a mother. (Perhaps the author would argue that saying "I" and "my" is evidence of self-absorption.)

Most of my writing pre-motherhood was similarly inclined, as I have always used writing as a tool to help clarify elements of my existence. Therefore, I would argue that for me, writing has always been self-absorbed, and that posting it online is simply another way to gain perspective on my reflections. It is not for the purpose of turning the spotlight back on myself rather than on my children. One author said it's another way for parents to "get the attention and validation they seem to crave." I am neither seeking attention, nor validation; rather I write for clarification, reflection and perspective.

I am more inclined to concur with the philosophy professor- quoted in the third to the last paragraph, since it does not support the author's primary thesis- who suggested that by blogging parents are "(T)urning your life into a story that helps anwer the question 'Why on earth am I doing this?'"

If I wanted attention and validation, I think my entries would look more like this:

"The doctor has had an ear infection- her first, which I guess isn't so bad for being almost 9 months old. But I am riddled by questions: Was it something I did? Could I have prevented it? Was it that extra 2 minutes in the bathtub?

When I was a I child, I had ear infections. Did people worry about me? Were my ears important? Are my ears important now?"

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

As I write this entry, I am listening to the thud/slap, thud/slap of the doctor slowly but surely crawling toward me. Just 3 weeks ago, she couldn't go from sitting up to crawling position without face-planting, and now she's mobile- not just in reverse, as was true for a while, but forward and toward specific objects. Her targets are usually either something she shouldn't have (the rug pad, the cat's tail) or her sister, who is happy to encourage her until the doctor grabs for whatever the princess is playing with, at which point things turn ugly.

To make things more pressing, she has also started to pull herself up- not on the couch yet, but lower things, which means that even more mobility is coming SOON.

Things are changing for the princess, too- today we went to pick out her glasses. I haven't really processed it yet, that she'll need them for at least several years, and possibly forever. I hope she stays as excited about them as she was while picking them out! I suspect that the novelty will soon wear off, but I hope that the doctor is right and that soon she'll realize how much clearer the world is with them on and actually prefer to wear them for that reason. She sure looks cute in them.

This is the town and these are the people...

I love Harry Nilsson's "The Point"- if you don't know it, buy it, just re-issued on CD. I am often reminded of some of the more enduring tidbits from the album. (YES, that's right, ALBUM.)

Today I have been ruminating on the Man in the Pointed Forest who tells Oblio that "A point in every direction is the same as no point at all." It is one of those every direction days.

Focusing on just one thing is a pleasure for me, just sitting and thinking about one topic now seems like a luxury as I often start thinking about one topic- i.e. my new business- and end up with another running in-"hey, don't forget the preschool application" or "today is my sister-in-law's birthday." Even as I am blogging, I am thinking "As soon as I am done, I need to pay the Visa bill, and then go fold the laundry and I forgot to follow up with that babysitter."

A friend of mind once said that she likes to meditate as she takes that time to just sit still with her mind and "Let the shit run through." Not a pretty image, but descriptive. I, on the other hand, prefer to use what little meditation time I find to just focus on one item, topic or moment. More of a micro than a macro approach, and it is my hope that I figure out some way to find more time to be still and focus. On. One. Thing.

"Come to Sirpilla and you will see..."

While I readily admit that I have guilt whenever I feel like I am using the TV to "babysit" the princess- and even the doctor!- the truth is that I used to watch a lot of TV and in truth, I love being 70's and 80's TV "literate." I can still sing the themes for such classics as "Love, Sidney" and "The Greatest American Hero." I have fond memories of my brother trying to be MacGyver, or even further back, the medics on "Emergency!" At times I still have a moment of silence in memory of the cancelling of "It's Your Move." My greatest celebrity meeting was with Mr. T. (Tony C.'s recent blog entry (http://www.tony-c.blogspot.com/) reminded me of how many TV related memories I really have, and how many are shared by those in my generation. Whether it is sad that we are bound by TV memories or not, it is a fact.)

And it wasn't just the shows- it was the commercials, too. I still find myself singing the jingle for the "Snoopy Brusha Brusha Toothbrush." (I never got one. Perhaps having to hear the jingle all the time without me even owning it was prophylactic for my parents.) The tune from a local RV dealership circa 1983 is also an ongoing favorite, so much so that my husband now knows it, too, even though he's never seen the commercial. (The title of this entry is the opening line. If we could add .wav files, there's a chance I would include my version.)

Perhaps my fondest "what could have been" TV memory is: I could have been a kool-aid kid.

Yes, it's true. (Or at least it's true according to family folklore.) I was invited to be one by my cousin who was the ad director for the campaign (good ol' nepotism!) BUT...and here's the catch...I had to be in New York 4 weekends in a row to shoot them. Cleveland is not THAT far from New York, but it was too far for my mom to justify flying back and forth just to have me yell, "Hey, Kool-Aid!" over and over again.

Bummer, 'cause then I would not only share the TV memories but would actually have PARTICIPATED!

Maybe they'll do a remake, and have a casting call for moms who have to call for the big red (or orange or whatever) pitcher to come crashing through the wall to quench my family's thirst...as they sit in front of the TV....

NEW YEAR!

In honor of the New Year, I would like to submit a list of many of the wonderful things about living in the Rose City.

I should mention that the inspiration for this entry stems from two sources. First, having spent 1 week in the grey and wintry world of Cleveland, I realize that I could NEVER do that year after year again (without losing my sanity... CF "Silent Snow, Secret Snow" by Conrad Aiken). Second, a friend whose Aunt recently relocated to Stumptown (the city, not the coffee shop, although the second would be an interesting choice, too) sent a list to family and friends describing some of the things that make our city unique. And as I read the list, I realized that many of those things are what I love about this city!

Hers first:
On the sophisticated, wonderfully reliable bus system, there are NO bus cards on the bus interiors. Rather local art work and poetry etc. replace the advertising -- many drawn or written by local citizens.

The parking garage at Hospitals and adjoining Physicians Plazas are not only FREE but they have a bridge from garage to doctors offices or hospital.

Many stores keep a fresh bowl of water our so patrons' pets may have a drink.

On most roads here, there are designated bicycle lanes. If it starts raining after departing on your bike, the rider may catch a bus and put his bike on bike racks on the bus.

And mine:
The ground is green, year- round. And there is always something in bloom. (In fact, right now I have a pretty- if confused- Iris blooming in my front yard!)

People are gleeful any time it is sunny! And on any sunny day, people wear shorts, even if it is very cold.

People sit outside at coffee shops regardless of weather. That's why lattes come with lids.

Most people I meet live here simply because they WANT to, not because they grew up here and ended up back here by default.

Micro-roasted coffee. (CF Stumptown reference, above.)

Microbrewed beer.

I KNOW how close the ocean is, even if I don't get to see it very often!

As written in "Fugitives and Refugees : A Walk in Portland, Oregon" by Chuck Palahniuk, everyone here really does have 3 lives!

My husband can bike to work, I can walk to the Post Office, Library, and in season, a farmer's market. I mean, I can walk there now, but there wouldn't be anyone there.

It smells good here.

I can get to the airport, any time of the day, in less than 20 minutes.

As I dwell on this longer, I will certainly amend this list, and I encourage my readership to respond!

Parenting...the toughest job you'll ever....

With apologies to the Army for the blatent pilfering of the title, I feel obligated to express my current feelings about this crazy pursuit we call child-rearing. Rearing is right- that's where the pain is.

It probably isn't very nice to consider your kids as pains in the rearius endius, especially when in truth, they are gifts and we are genuinely grateful for them. But when your older child has disgusting goop oozing from her eyes, a cough that shakes the foundation, and the general malaise that accompanies childhood illness, feeling grateful doesn't really spring to mind.

Add to that equation an infant, duly infected in part by the older child, with a nose that produces more mucus than it would seem possible for such a little head to hold, wake ups (12 a.m. 3 a.m. and 5 a.m.) and a refusal to eat anything from a spoon and again, one must find SOMETHING to remind oneself of the gift that is parenthood.

I am thankful that most of the time, my kids are OK, and hopeful that these less-than-stellar days will be tossed into the memory trashcan, like used tissues....speaking of, gotta go wipe noses.

Vacation

Yes, the blog will be on vacation as I depart for what is hopefully a week of sun and fun. Of course, it is a different kind of fun when there are 5 kids around. Not my image of a 2kool "sun and fun" beach vaca. Please note: I am not complaining. Really! I am grateful that we get to go on vacations at all since otherwise we probably couldn't find the scrilla for trips to sunny climates.

In fact, I have a hard time imagining when we will get a chance to vacation without the princess and the doctor. As we say, "Every vacation is a family vacation." And not just the 4 of us, it always must involve at least 2 other relatives. Someday....we WILL again have childless and parentless and sibling-less travel!