Birthday With Dad

My dad and I share back to back birthdays - the truest birthday gift of any measure, of which I've only realized as I've gotten older. We've always shared a cake and opened gifts together. Every birthday photo is of the two of us. As we got older, a whole weekend has been planned around it, months in advance so the whole family could be together. My birthday celebration was our birthday celebration - and it didn't get much better than that. Today is my second birthday without him, and it still just doesn't feel right to celebrate without him. I know I'll get there, but for now, I'll leave the blowing out of candles to Griffin, who is more than happy to take over :)

Fear

I am the worst flyer in the world thanks to the flight from hell at 15 when the oxygen masks dropped & people cried all around me. I thought I was going to die that day, and now I do every day I step onto a plane. So grim. My palms are sweating right now just thinking about it. And as you can imagine, I'm the worst passenger ever. Ask my husband & his poor hand. You'd basically rather sit next to a crying baby than me. Or the lady who barfed into a ziplock bag ten times on my flight once. You'd rather that rankness. Trust me. It's bad.

This past weekend, we left our kids for the first time since Louise was born to go to my cousin's wedding Atlanta, and flying without kids only makes this anxiety worse. My wacko brain immediately goes into worst case scenario mode & I picture my kids without parents -- something I'm unfortunately too familiar with. Again, grim. I know.

But this weekend, our flights to & from Atlanta were smooth. Smooth, I tell you. I never say that. And for the first time in my whole life, when were approaching New York City on the flight home, I was actually kind of, well thrilled, to be flying 10,000 ft in the air. It was a cloudless day, and as we approached the city, we flew over Brooklyn and could see our building! where I knew both kids were likely sleeping at the time. We then flew over the Hudson river, where I quickly snapped the above photo of the Manhattan and Brooklyn Bridges. I felt like we were on our very own tour of the city as we kept going north, watching the yellow cabs going up & down Broadway, spotting MSG, then Central Park and Yankees Stadium.  It was... cool.

I can only hope this is a sign of a dwindling fear. Or at least a new perspective on flying. Makes me wonder what other fears I have that could turn into magical moments...

Checking In at 9 Weeks

Wheeeeew.

Louise was 9 weeks old yesterday, and I can finally say that we are slooooowly coming back to life. (I want to add like a hundred more o's in that "slowly", but you probably wouldn't be able to read it as a word. Just so you know.)

Griffin gave his little sister the gift of germs at five weeks old. Which was really fun for Mom & Dad. She visited the ER twice, had her first x-ray and was put on antibiotics to prevent the fluid in her lungs from harboring any bacteria. It was a pretty trying & scary time - sucking mucus from her nostrils, keeping her upright, visiting the doctor. But we got through it, sleep-deprived and over-caffinated.

And now I'm thrilled to say we're out of those deep dark woods. Our healthy little chunkster is the happy little girl we started seeing glimmers of at four weeks - smiling, eating, sleeping, pooping, burping. All those things babies do best. Makes me so happy to see her thriving after being so fragile there for a while.

So that's the update from here. More (happy & healthy ones) to come. A photo above from the weekend, where Louise fell asleep in my arms waiting for her bath. Pretty good little life, Miss Louise. Your Mommy loves you, even though you scared the bejesus out of her.

15 Years Without My Mom, Linda

Death is Nothing at All

Death is nothing at all…

I have only slipped into the next room…

I am I, and you are you…

Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.

Call me by my old familiar name,

Speak to me in the easy way you always used.

Put no difference into your tone;

Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed

At the little jokes we enjoyed together.

Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.

Let my name be ever the household word

that it always was.

Let it be spoken without effect,

Without the ghost of a shadow on it.

Life means all that it ever meant.

It is the same as it ever was;

There is absolutely unbroken continuity.

Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?

I am waiting for you, for an interval,

Somewhere very near just around the corner…

All is well.

                                           

                                                   - Henry Scott Holland

This week marked the 15th anniversary of my mom's passing. I was telling a friend that after years of being sad for myself, of missing her for me, that in recent years, I have felt more sad for my mom - for her missing out on seeing her four kids through college, seeing all of us get married and being a grandmother to eight (going on nine) grandchildren. My friend sent me this poem, above, - a beautiful & simple reminder for me that while she is not here physically, she is very much here. Another friend who lost his dad a few years ago told me that he actually likes when people ask about him, that he likes talking about him. I feel the same way. I love talking about my mom & dad. And the more I do, the more I really do feel them here.

One of Griffin's Christmas gifts was a Names & Places Book with photos of people we love, including three of his grandparents who are no longer living. He can quickly identify them by name, which is a good start. And because we've told him, he knows Farmor made the blanket he sleeps with. As he gets older, it'll be even more important for us to keep talking about them so that he and his soon-to-be brother or sister know them as they know anyone living - that his Farmor, Pop & Grandma Linda are just as familiar, present, here.

We're baaaaack!

 

Sorry for the super long hiatus. I didn't mean to leave you so abrubtly or for so long. But sometimes life tells you to just take a break. A big ol break.

And that's what we did. 

We had Popsicle Night every night.

 

 

 We learned a whole new set of vocabulary - all related to things of the beach. Correctly identifying a mahi mahi not excluded.

 

 We got our first haircut at a barber shop. (Thanks to a lolipop.)

 

 We became obsessed with surfing. On the sand or in the kitchen. Didn't matter. It was surfing.

 

 We shared our dessert.

 

 And sometimes ate that dessert with sand. No matter. It was sugar!

 We explored.

We took a big time out without even really realizing that we needed it. A lot has happened in the past couple months since I left you hanging, so I'll fill you in a bit.

We moved. Not far - about a mile away - but a move nonetheless. A pack up everything, get rid of everything, unpack everything, get rid of more of everything kind of move. The next day, John's mom passed away, rather unexpectedly. And our lives changed. As it goes when you lose people you love. My brother & sisters and I agree that it's the finality of death, of being gone, of not being here, that is so hard to accept. One day they are there, the next they are not. One day you can call them, and the next day you can't. Time passes, and it kills you because it's further away from that person actually being there - you count the days, the weeks, the months, the birthdays. Last month, I celebrated my first birthday without my dad. His birthday is the day before mine & we had celebrated together every year of my life. My birthday also happens to be John's mom's birthday, so it was even harder and more surreal.

But one little (or sorta big) piece of good news & happiness has come into our lives recently. I am expecting our second child! News we were fortunate to share with John's mom before she passed - her 14th grandchild. We are so excited (and also a little nervous to have two!), and I am especially happy that the first few months of nausea are behind me. As I'm sure are the people around me:) I'm due in January, which means Griffin has about five months to figure out what big brother means. And we have five months to get some sleep.

In the meantime, we're happy to be back at work (there's something so benignly right about getting back into a routine after life changing events) & gearing up for the release of the new products we debuted at the National Stationery Show this May. So stay tuned. And if you haven't done so, sign up for our newsletter (by entering your email on the right) so you can be the first to get the news of the launch, as well as upcoming launch discounts.

Many thanks for reading & supporting. I don't intend to weigh down this blog too much with my personal life, but it's comforting for me to be able to share all of this - from the not so good to the great. So thank you.

xo
Liz

Google Chrome Ad

In honor of Father's Day, I'm posting this ad that tugs at my new-parent heart strings & makes me cry every time I see it - even if I just catch a few seconds of it.

I blame my little sack of sugar.