I’m alone currently. No really — Mr. Sal is in the city and both of my children are apparently sleeping. I say apparently because, really — who knows. And when my husband complained about having to spend the evening among adults at some fabulous dinner for business, I imagined myself inhaling a self-rolled ciggy, exhaling while speaking in a British accent “I cannot imagine anything more exhilarating (emphasis on the ‘EXXXHHHHIL‘) than a trip to the city”…. which is a scene that I totally ripped from the Virginia Wolf thriller of a movie, The Hours…. Starring Nicole Kidman…. Regarding several decades of women that seem to be going through unbelievable bouts of self-exploration… which is a nicer way of saying ‘depression’. And, although I am not depressed, or anywhere near the idea of going through a ’bout’ of anything — I do have to say that it’s getting harder and harder for me to remember what it was like to not have kids. To be able to just go. Just decide to do something and then do it….ALONE. ALOOOONE… And, considering this is the second time I’ve been alone in 2011, and most likely the last — what better time to run wild with abandon and go — GO — on 2011. On the other hand, it may have been a mistake to leave me alone, and this glass of wine is delicious…. I’ll wait until morning before I publish this.

Because 2011,
CHANGED MY LIFE.
AGAIN.
(sorry, that was loud. and this post is rather long.)

In 2011, we had a 2nd baby. We had a 2nd baby just when the first baby, now 4 years old, seemed well on his way to independence. And when I think about the dramatic and early entrance that Josephine made into our lives, paired with her current ability to get pretty much anything she wants — at 7.5 months old, it’s hard not to predict that we are in it for a lifetime. And again, NOT TO WORRY, when I say ‘in it’, I am of course referring to the bliss and unbridled happiness that comes with being Josephine’s Mom. The smiles. The heart-melting coos and squeals that make up for the refusal to sleep in her own bed. Or how she spits the baby food back out at you and then laughs at your reaction. But that’s okay, as you wipe the spring vegetable surprise from your face, just LOOK at how cute she is covered in puree…. and whatever, you can just forget about your hair — you aren’t going anywhere anyway.

But I know, having just done this for the past 4 years. This time is fleeting. It really is hard to believe that she’s 7.5 months old and that Will just completed his first semester of preschool. I mean… remember back when he was two and he quit napping and I thought my life was over? I mean… it really was over, but the realization was astounding… WHAT DO YOU MEAN I don’t have time to myself anymore? That I had to put my design ‘career’ (I know, don’t laugh) on hold, sit on the floor and PLAY? I mean REALLY. I’M EDUCATED — and LOOK, now I’m playing TRUCKS? But then it stopped. He did what most do and started playing BY HIMSELF. And then I was sad, alone… sitting on the floor with my trucks (not really). And now Jo — as demanding and irresistible a baby as there ever was…. tomorrow she’ll be kicking me out of her room and demanding to pierce something.

And, I know. I’m going to get to all of the other things that happened in 2011 — I’m just taking my time because I’m still alone. That, and I just can’t get over how pleased I am with everything in my life these days. The fun little boy I have. The food allergies that he seems to be growing out of (!) paired with his need to wear a fire helmet to the grocery store. The sweetest little girl I could have ever imagined — it’s even cute when she’s slapping my face and ripping my earrings out. I’ve even been working on a few design projects that seem to be moving along nicely, and I’m happy to report that things are calm both on the friend and family fronts.

All in all, while tooting my own horn from atop the highest pedestal, 2011 was a really good year all-around.

January… My sister Annie was married to her longtime love, Rob… Which led to a reunion of sorts in seeing friends and family that I haven’t seen in years, some of which read this bloggedy blog and therefore knew way more than I did about myself…. Later, I started reading an absurd amount of anything I could get my hands on, books – magazines, newspapers, a MANUSCRIPT written by a brilliantly talented individual that also had a baby in 2011… January was also the month when I started having Braxton Hicks otherwise known as false and not funny contractions even though I wasn’t due until the end of May. Good Times.

February found Mr. Sal and I returning to Portsmouth, NH where I took this picture whist Braxton Hicking all over New England:

I may never understand why I love this picture so much other than the fact that I was a giant pregnant lady salivating over the whole idea behind this window.

Nothing happened in March.
NOTHING.
Oh come on. It’s not like I was sitting on my hands or anything, although I was waiting for something to happen. Really, nothing happened and honestly, your bravado is rather rude.
FINE. Go see for YOURSELF.

April was one of the scariest months of my ENTIRE LIFE, although it started and ended with a blessing. I kicked the month off by opening the front section of the New York Times to see a 1937 picture of my long-passed Grandaddy on page A12 (with the crooked hat). This was a HUGE surprise and one that I will never forget… It made me feel individual and incognito all at the same time…. Here was this image of a man that all but a hand-full of us recognized thus giving the paper that day an entire different meaning than anyone in the world expected it to. And while there are pictures of people in newspapers everyday, this was a once in a hundred million lives, lifetime treat.

April was going to be a great month.

It was, however, only a few weeks into the month that Josephine decided to start her attempts of escaping from my belly — one of which found me in the hospital under the guise of false appendicitis. Her Alcatraz-like plan was foiled however, mostly due in part by the numerous prayers that were heard by the powers that be. But she didn’t hesitate to try again and five weeks before her due date, Josephine Dwyer was born. After a quick incubation, she arrived home healthy and happy — that is just as long as you are doing exactly what she wants you to. April was also the month when I read a book by Sammy Hagar (hangs head in shame) in approximately 2.5 hours — an amount of time that I will always regret losing…

The rest of the year has been a bit of a sleepless/timeless/listless haze filled with the closeness of growing and playtimes. There have been moments when I stop, clear my head and listen to the news or something, but for the most part I have been in an 8 month hibernation as a full time Mom. Two kids, as I am discovering, is intense. Beyond the trip that I thought I was signing up for, but also filled with an extraordinary balance and calm. Trying to make time for myself has proved to be near impossible, but when I feel the pull and struggle to do more, I come back around. This time is precious and I’d rather be here, experiencing the lives of my kids…. A pedicure would be nice though.

And, to just sum up the rest of the year, because OMG – I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE STILL READING THIS!
June – …the must in the air was a really choice herb…
July – …SOYLENT GREEN, SOYLENT GREEN…
August – …They don’t hate you…
September – …EVACUATION...
October – …Allergy kids and Lepers having so much in common…
November – …let’s all damn the man by smelling really bad…
And, December, Well. We’re here, aren’t we?

So, while not everything that happened in 2011 contributed to the life-changing handle that I’ve given it, the few things that did happen were quite large. [abundant, ample, barn door, blimp, booming, broad, bulky, capacious, colossal, comprehensive, considerable, copious, enormous, excessive, exorbitant, extensive, extravagant, full, generous, giant, gigantic, goodly, grand, grandiose, great, gross, hefty, huge, humongous, immeasurable, immense, jumbo, liberal, massive, monumental, mountainous, plentiful, populous, roomy, sizable, spacious, stupendous, substantial, super, sweeping, thumping, tidy, vast, voluminous, whopping, wide]. It’s amazing how two tiny people can pack such a punch.

And in ending, Merry Christmas my Friends — Happy Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Winter Solstice, Bodhi Day, Boxing Day, Hogmanay, Koleda, and Festivus, etc. Happy New Year. I will see you when things are fresh and new, 2012!

That’s the way the holidays start…

And I can hear the song playing off of my parents record player as my Mom, sisters and I made sugar cookies every Christmas — ending with Goodie, Goodie, Yum, Yum, Yum… A not so typical holiday song from the 1950s — and ever so eclectic when being played on vinyl…. (QUICK, click here to taste the yumminess).

In other news, Madonna is playing in the super bowl, Gingrich is AHEAD and Trump is moderating. Anyone else confused?

Time it was!

And don’t you love this image… The strategically placed balloons paralleled with the action and heads turned from the camera… The elements, all of which, making it somewhat OK for me to publish on the internet… Because parents don’t want you to publish images of their kids online.

(photo by Doug Young)

What do you mean that’s not true? I know plenty of parents, including myself that would go so far as nothing short of BLOODY MURDER if I found images of my kids online without my permission. Because anything else is just wrong, and innocence is fleeting. I mean, just look at this picture. INNOCENT. Right? Free, fun, CARELESS. With balloons. I even hesitate, with my finger shaking over the mouse and keyboard when publishing images on Facebook. I mean, WHO KNOWS when that Doogie Howser of a programmer isn’t going to be all  — “Dude I make billions, but DAMN that kid is cute” — and change the privacy terms without telling anyone and OOOPPS.. Next thing you know, my son is the poster child for FacebooKidzzzz — the spinoff of Facebook designed specifically for ages 4-7… Because you know that they know more about the internet than us anyway. With bright colors, Team Oomie Zoomie and that guy from Blue’s Clues. They might even steal the Nick Jr. trademark slogan “Preschool on TV!”, with minor loophole edits, “Preschool on the INTERNET!”… And we as parents can finally relax about school selections — just give him the iPad, log into FBKZZZZ (I totally just copyrighted that) and BOOM! MATH IS FUN! And when I say that guy from Blue’s Clues — I totally mean Steve, the one that left to become a post hairband Metal Rock Star, only to come full circle to Grunge for Nick Jr….. That other dude is just creepy.

And Will’s birthday party was a screaming success. Kids were happy, parents seemed pleased, and Bluedog was unusually indifferent. I was my usual neurotic self, hiding inside the house until the very last second in having to greet people… wanting to climb under the dining room table — but noticing that the spot had already been taken by cookie hoarding children. I bounced from room to room in an attempt to keep small talk to a minimum. And when the candles were blown out we clapped — gifts opened at record speed, and I realized how old FOUR actually is as I watched Will and his friends attempt to beat the shit out of each other with balloons….. laughing all the while. I was rather pleased that Will participated, and didn’t go hang out in the garage during the party as he had threatened to do earlier in the week — and that his sister, upon seeing all of the people was all “I’m TOTES out of here” and napped for practically the entire party. Tears were kept at a minimum, and plenty of sugar high 3-4 year olds left kicking because they hadn’t yet played with Will’s last toy. All in all, SUCCESS. As we brace ourselves for next year….. Forget about Christmas just days away… I’ll be taking that spot under the dining room table now. Thanks.

Remember yesterday….?? Yes. Yesterday — Will’s official 4th birthday? Right? Yes. Yesterday. We should have left it at that, right? YAY — Happy Birthday — here are your presents and DONE. MOVED ON. OVER. But no.

Because weeks ago Will mentioned that he wanted to have a birthday party and that he wanted to invite his entire class. Also, he wanted the few friends he has outside of the school community… as well as his aunts, and grandparents. Because this is WHAT KIDS WANT. And who would we be if we didn’t go ahead and COMPLY? Right? WHAT IF WE SAID NO? Because… in hindsight, and well within the realization that this would have made us the MEANEST PARENTS ALIVE, we should have listened to our inner meanness, done the right thing and said ABSOLUTELY NOT.

But no. This is not what happened. Instead we smiled, said OH REEEAAALLY, rushed to the nearest party store and sent out invitations. Immediately. Look at the brains on us.

Now, today is Wednesday. Which means that I still have two and a half (approximately) days to pull my house together, plan and prepare foods that are loaded with deliciousness AND somehow manage to NOT look like a deranged psychopath. And, I know. It’s a kids party. GET OVER IT. But you see… yesterday something else happened that was totally and completely self inflicted. Like the brainiac I am, I gave Will a set of BATTERY OPERATED LAWN EQUIPMENT toys for his birthday…. YES. That’s right. I willingly gave him POWER GARDEN TOOLS, which he LOVES and has not stopped using since yesterday afternoon. These aren’t just toys, my friends — these could be the real thing, and they MAKE THE BEST noises—WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE ARGHGHEHGHEGHE WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. And, while I was fully prepared to toss him outdoors with the weed whacker, blower, mower and chainsaw — he’s getting over a cold and therefore needs to play with all of them AT THE SAME TIME, inside.

So, while I’m rushing around, with a teething 7 month old that won’t let me put her down — pulling down the curtains that were water stained during the hurricane FOUR MONTHS AGO… WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE is playing in the background, and I’ve found time to sit down and type this with my toes while ordering 2 dozen balloons. Alone, each of these things would be completely within reason. Party. Power tools. TEETH. But together, the combination is resulting in treachery, and only HOURS OF DAYS to go until 12-15 kids and their (lovely, mind you) parents, as well as assorted others come over to hang out for an hour and a half. DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG THAT IS? And knowing me. ME. I’m damn near set straight to have this be an all out BLOW YOUR HAIR BACK kids party. I even bought 15 Slinkies for the gift bags. WHO DOES THAT?

The same one that bought the 4 year old his very own set of power tools, apparently.

Today is Will’s 4th birthday.

And while we spent the better part of the morning analyzing all things associated with the number four, I started to get a little choked up. Because it seems like yesterday that I was in the hospital 2 weeks before my due date thinking, wait — maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, I’VE CHANGED MY MIND. Only to realize that every aspect of my over-controlled life was about to be out of control. Because he’s going to be taller than me tomorrow. Because, every time he says, “Mom, can I tell you something?…” I know that the something is going to be well thought out and packed tight with observations. Because whenever he catches me dancing in the car to The Police he gets mad and insists that he doesn’t need for me to be so silly — as if I need a four year old to set me straight, as I ignore him until he can’t take it anymore – “MOM, STOP IT!!!! I can’t think with you dancing like that! It’s making all of me hurt!” And the knock knock joke begins with “Knock Knock” and ends with “Orange Banana” — which makes no sense but leaves him rolling with laughter… Who cares that the rest of us are only laughing because he’s so cute that I CAN’T STAND IT. While he stands up halfway through Thanksgiving dinner to tell everyone that they only have 2 minutes left and then they have to leave and go home so that he can have some peace and quiet. Because, good GAWD, time goes by too fast.

I can’t seem to take any of it seriously.

Almost like the movie Red Dawn. I mean, I know that was the Russians taking over the Pacific Northwest and not political unrest, but along those same lines of seriousness, it really was terrible what happened to those kids.

It could be that I’m purposely turning a blind eye to all of the protesting, the people yelling “THE WHOLE WORLD IS WATCHING” while they are driven off, handcuffed in paddywagons. It all makes me feel so tired. Of course we’re watching — nothing else is on. And it was REALLY funny the other day when a good friend commented on Facebook about the silliness surrounding the Occupy Hamptons movement. Because, as you can imagine, it really is JUST as ridiculous as it sounds. Occupy. Hamptons. Movement (ew). Paddywagons, by the way, were once upon a time called Black Marias. Add that to today’s list of useless knowledge.

And I’m reaching for a time when it was DAMN RIGHT to be extreme. When screaming your cause, while not showering and camping out in rat infested parks was maybe a good idea to get the point across… There were my bumper stickers. The anti-domestic abuse and pro-choice banners… paired with peace signs and ying yangs. Social unrest was exciting — Rage Against the Machine and Alice in Chains. Those guys are dead now, at least most of them are… And I remember when Lane Staley died — the New York Times dignified his overdose with a nice little “what took him so long” article about grunge, angst and how silly it is to take yourself so seriously. Because, just like it’s tongue in cheek to pick on the dead drug abuser, let’s all damn the man by smelling really bad. Right?

But that isn’t what’s happening here. With Occupy the Hamptons. Because when you’re really angry that the cost of living is so high.. the schools are mediocre and the middle class deems it unnecessary to vote, making a nice “End the War” sign and repeating “Throw the Bums Out” is really going to make people take you seriously. Here. In the Hamptons. And, okay — MAYBE, I’m making light of what others take personally — but isn’t enough, enough? And don’t you want to not be homeless, much less pretend that you are in an effort to get some point across? What was that point again? Maybe that here, just like there and that other place out there — HERE is somewhat, okay-maybe-not-so-much, like everywhere else, AND THAT is why Occupy the Hamptons exists. To protest that we are just like everyone else… but we have really expensive taste. Is that so WRONG? Why don’t we get to protest — JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE? It just isn’t fair that movie stars live here and expect you NOT to recognize them. Or that they make TV shows based here — just as long as they aren’t actually filmed here. People pick up after their dogs… who cares if they then leave the baggy of poop on the sidewalk for someone else to pick up… And, since I haven’t mentioned it but MY GOODNESS people are angry — plastic bags have officially been banned from the local grocery stores. WHOSE TO SAY WE DON’T HAVE PROBLEMS! But really. Am I really that far off the mark when I suggest that Occupy the Hamptons might just be taken a little more seriously if it didn’t exist? Can’t they just call themselves what they really are — a bunch of peaceful organizers with sharpies, and a little too much off-season time on their hands. OR do I have to go get a bongo and start MAKING SOME NOISE… at a perfectly reasonable decibel, of course.

When he won’t eat dinner because of a made up ailment.
When she won’t sleep anywhere other than on top of me.
When a long lost friend loses her mother after a fight with breast cancer.
When a contractor hits your car, ripping off the right rear view, and then flees the scene.
When… when… when…
Is always a good time for this:

Murmuration from Sophie Windsor Clive on Vimeo.

I know. I’m a little sick of the internet too.

However.

Despite the fact that the internet is currently being over-run by Mom bloggers and social media loving tweet freaks, I still have to maintain that having an online portfolio of work is still somewhat priceless. Kind of like real estate in the Hamptons — you know. Good to own even if you never visit. Like my neighbors whom I have run into three whole times since I moved here almost nine years ago. NINE YEARS. Nine. One less than ten and two less than eleven. ELEVEN.

I am, by the way, one of those Mom blogging tweeting freaks, so I maintain the right to criticize. But even more than that, one of the three times that my neighbors came over to my house was to accuse our dog of relieving himself in their yard. And when I pointed to our pup saying “Are you SURE?” — whilst the Bluedog happened to be in a leg cast due to a severe cut on his paw, and therefore completely INNOCENT of going next door and excusing himself inappropriately. Mrs. Neighbor looked confused but never apologized for suggesting that he was guilty. And that, my friends, was just over eight years ago… I remember it clearly because while our oh so pleasant exchange was bubbling — her daughter, then a toddler, was wandering through my white walled house with melted Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup all over her hands… and eventually my walls.

But whatever. Is it really my fault that I remember instances like this with crystal clarity? I could go back even further, should the need arise… which is kind of what I did as I built my new portfolio website. Looking through old projects — some over a decade in the making. Nostalgic over some that I loved dearly — and still do… Wondering if certain opportunities, such as being a Creative Director or owning a Design Firm are all experiences that have come and gone… Juxtaposed with business partners and employees gone sour as well as clients closing their doors. Tumultuous learning experiences that I can now apply to….

Because almost everything has a timeline, but usually the good stuff reappears. Television shows go, but reruns save face. People stop eating bread. Chocolate eventually comes out of white walls, and if not one can always repaint… And yes. I can still design stuff.

So much EFFORT!

And I know. This is NOT a topic that I would usually pay any attention to, much less write a blog post about, but really — I am left with a big empty space where my faith all things underbelly used to just sit and stew in its own filth.

Because people behave badly, most of the time… with the exception of people that I know and/or am related to, right? Because TALK about going through the motions of the extreme while taking advantage of, well — EVERYTHING. While we, because I know I’m not alone, not only ask, WHO is Kim Kardashian? What has she done to be this famous? Who takes the time… I mean, who HAS the time, to be so fake? And even with people, on the whole, being less than well-behaved, apparently even those that are famous — making ungodly amounts of money for doing pretty much nothing — Even they have to reach deep down into the inner core of all things WRONG and RIDICULOUS to achieve — something? Because that is what has happened here, right? Pop culture — our society taken for a celebrity circus ride through things that don’t really exist all for the sake of an enormous dollar amount for a weird little group of people that are obsessed with “reality” television and their own reflections… right? Because the rest of us are so silly to imagine that love and marriage – you know, the BASIS of FAMILY are really all so worth it? Especially when there is a career of doing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING on the line.

And it’s just that — the doing of absolutely nothing that makes this all so much more dark. While we really don’t care, we are still being blasted at every turn with details of a planned to be failed marriage, the scandal that doesn’t really exist because it was planned, and the crazy dollar amounts that people are making for nothing short of make-believe. Was it love? No. Was it arranged even before an engagement? Probably. Can the groom in question read? Not likely. Does Kim Kardashian even exist, or did we make her up so that we would have someone to grace the covers of all publications everywhere? Possibly. Will more people than it’s worth go to bank on nothing more than a figment of our imaginations? OBVIOUSLY.

Because, in the light of day, she wasn’t really anyone… That is, until she filed for divorce.

Roasted Yumminess. That is all.