turn, turn, turn

I wanted to share that through some hard times recently we have made the decision to move. I love this apartment/house we have, I love the big spacious rooms, the view of the bay, the convenient location, the fabulous appliances and the memories we have here. Sometimes you just need to face facts. We were doing okay before I stopped work, but since the money has been spread thin, we just can't afford to stay. Sometime next month we will be moving into a cute little basement apartment in Joel's aunt's house, and I am excited, anxious, stressed, and apprehensive about it. It's farther away still from all of my family. Not by much, but there is a certain Cape Cod mind frame that can't comprehend distances of more than 20 minutes. So I can expect to see less and less of the people I already see so little of. There are other certain hitches in the plan, like scrambling to find a portable washing machine, the daunting task of having to sell like half of what we own because most of it won't fit, and can anyone point me in the right direction of having my desktop computer become wireless capable?

But all in all, this is a good thing. We will have a quaint little two bedroom (!!) place that is clean, quiet, and under the care of family. We will have a beautifully landscaped yard next to the bike trail and be able to save some money. The plan is for Joel to go to school this fall and get this really great job that I won't elaborate on just yet, but then our next living situation could possibly turn into our first home. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. I hate moving more than anything, I've only done it twice in my life so you can imagine the amount of CRAP I have accumulated over the years. I come from a long line of pack rats and find it hard to let go of things. "but I might need that someday!" often comes spewing out of my mouth. But I am excited to purge a lot of junk and make this happen.

Isaac's first birthday party is on the 21st here, and it will be the last great shindig at this house, the first place we lived in together on our own as a married couple, as a family. I get sentimental about this sort of thing so it will be bittersweet. Changes! They are upon us.

Alright, so

Today marks the start of a spring and summer filled with fun things. The signs of it are everywhere, the hazy heat of mid morning/afternoon, the trip to the beach I've been packing for all morning, the cute little shorts the boy is terrorizing the house in, my bright red sun dress, and the giant horrible wolf spiders present in or around our house today. My skin is crawling and I can't bear the thought of confronting one on my own, without the manliness that is Joel around to be the defeater.

It also means that in only a short number of weeks my boy will be a year old. This time last year I was losing the ability to sit, stand, walk or sleep with any type of comfort or dignity. The burden on my loins is now a babbling, crawling, yelling, smiley little bruiser causing mayhem and breakin' hearts. It's the epitome of 'nuts'.

Meanwhile, the time to think about going back to work for a few hours a week is here. I'll probably end up back at the restaurant for Friday and/or Saturday nights, which won't be bad because I'll be making tips and bossing little high school girls around. Also, a family friend needs help on fridays during the day to pick his garden in preparation for the Farmer's Market every weekend all summer. The pay is probably minimal, or it could only be in the form of free veggies (which is cool with me), but I'm actually anxious to make it happen because I like the thought of being outside, getting dirty and sunburned, working hard and sweating it up for a few hours a week if I can.

Anyways, the hours of this day are slipping away so we are going to have some lunch and get going. I leave you with...

Blank page

Don't look at me like that. Stop mocking me! Oh, the pure whiteness of you, blank page, and your counterparts everywhere...long have you provoked me, challenged me, drove me nuts. Poking me in the gut with the length of your teasing arm, I abhor (no! obsess!) you. It's so bad that entering an establishment wrought with stationary, such as the enemy that is Staples, causes sweaty palms, giddy, guilty delight within the palpitating chest of your admirer. I leave with more blank pages bound in all their narrow-lined, decorative glory, only a new box of pens will do. What will inhabit your rows, oh blank page? Probably nothing, for the intimidation you deliver leaves me breathless, nary a word ever makes it to your stunning display of white. And here, you sit on a computer screen, an accomplice to the original but not at all less of a challenge. You, blank blog page, little editing box with your options and tools. How often have I typed the chatter of thine mind only to erase (with no flaky smudge marks or harsh scratching out) without a trace? So little makes it past inspection to the daunting "save" button. What ever will come of the words forgotten? Alas, blank pages everywhere will never cease to choke me up and shut me down. A writer once, a scared little fool for always.

evidently,

My baby is growing into a little boy...


roughly 1 month old


9.5 months old

This is entirely without my permission and you are GROUNDED, mister!

oh so smooth & dreamy

It's been raining non stop for two days now. I don't mind it so much, I definitely prefer steady rain over snow, or persistent fog that just makes everything damp and chilly. At least you know the earth is taking care of itself, gearing up for the spring by watering everything down. Before you know it, everything will be green and sprouting. And that's encouraging.

I've been thinking a lot about the fact that Isaac's first birthday is fast approaching. I feel like I only just settled into a routine that I can manage. Since getting my car back I finally have established some confidence in making public outings happen with baby in tow. Going to the store, post office, bank, whatever..I no longer feel like that's only something I can do if someone watches him at home. No, I am woman, I am capable. I've been thinking about how it's been such a short time since I really got comfortable and in the groove with breastfeeding, and pretty soon it'll be over. I definitely plan on making it to a year and I'm sure we'll go longer, but I'm not one of those women who enjoys the thought of really extended nursing..like til age two or three. Sorry, but I feel like at some point a boundary needs to be established. Like..this is my body. I am glad I could provide for you but now you have other means. So I figure he'll probably be about 15 months by the time he's fully weaned. And you know...that's not far off. Kind of sad.

This coming saturday at the Holistic Families meeting we'll be discussing birth stories. I keep practicing in my head exactly what I want to say. There is so much. So much back story, so much to explain. I sort of feel like that to this particular group of people there will be so much to justify. I'll probably be the only one of them who has had a c-section. It's hard for me..I'm afraid I'll end up crying while I'm trying to share my story. I am kind of hoping that talking about it with people who understand the importance of birth (these ladies are doulas and midwives or were seen by doulas and midwives) will help me to move on and find some sort of acceptance. I'm really sick and tired of feeling so bitter and emotional about what I went through. Blah.

Time for bed.

character flaws

The other night we finished watching season 5 of Six Feet Under. As we both sobbed un-apologetically (anyone who has seen the series finale to this KNOWS what I'm talkin bout) it really ran through my brain just how similar the Fishers are to my family, the Rogers'. They are each exaggerations of us..theater versions, if you will.

Ruth - the worn out, worn down, tired older women, dealing with aging and the fact that her kids are growing up and moving on. Doesn't know what to do with herself if she's not taking care of someone else. Overly sensitive, easily worked up. Living with a lot of past regrets. AKA - my mom.

Nate - the eldest son, the rebel, the idealist, the one who "got away". Moved far away from the rest of his family and fought hard to be unlike them. AKA - my oldest brother.

David - the middle child, the responsible one. Perhaps a little tightly wound. Unaccepting of himself and weighed down by the weight of the world. AKA - my other brother.

Claire - the youngest, the only girl. Slightly disconnected from her siblings and absorbed with herself and her life. Photographer, artist, caught up in drug cultures and people who ultimately do her no good. Striving to achieve her family's approval but always sort of missing the mark. AKA - me at ages 16-18..right down to the giant ugly car.

Even some of the other supporting characters...Brenda, for instance strikes bizarre similarities with my brother's girlfriend..though it would be the wrong brother in comparison. I guess that's why maybe it strikes such a chord with me. In the end when Claire goes driving off into her future and they flash forward, and you see where everyone ends up. She reminds me so much of myself. Does the things that maybe I would have if life had gone differently for me. So to see her just driving off into the unknown- and yet I am armed with the foreknowledge of what lies ahead of her...it's intense. The bonus features on the DVD are awesome too...the guy who plays Nate says something to the effect of "death can shut you up real quick..so if you've got something to say in this life, you better speak up." I can dig it.

half asleep

I'm a slacker.
I'm making good on another promise to myself for this year, attempting to get healthy. My friend the future naturopath hooked me up with lots of good vitamins, one of which turns my pee neon green with the toxins it's clearing from my system. I went shopping yesterday and didn't fail miserably at it, got lots of good food and no junk (nevermind that box of girl scout cookies.... those chicks are ruthless). I'm trying to get Joel on the bandwagon because he doesn't take any kind of care of himself. Six cups of coffee a day, ciggarettes, beer and adding salt to virtually everything he eats is gonna wear him down pretty quickly. He just thinks I'm being a hippy or something.

Well, I have been going to this Holistic Moms group with the babe. They raise their own chickens (something I'm so jealous of) and had their babies in their own bathtubs (also, jealous). We had a group discussion on cloth diapers last week which was fun. Isaac seems to like the interaction with other little ones. He, by the way, is now a 9 month old little TERROR. His personal mission in life now seems to be to get into exactly the things I don't want him to, turning the days into ones filled with the grating sound of incessant whining and constant chasing. I admire his passion for exploration though. But his toys are no longer of any interest..this weather needs to warm up so I can get this kid outside.