#304 AWE

The dreaded C-section is over. I survived and we now have a beautiful new member of our family. My new baby boy was born yesterday at 1:50 PM and was 7 lbs 3 oz and 19 inches long. We are both doing well.




This new little man is adored by his older brothers who couldn’t stop touching him and fighting over who was going to hold him next. His parents and grandparents think he’s pretty cool too.



In a previous post I discussed the meaning of names. I told my parents they had cursed themselves with Eric’s difficult behavior since his first and middle names mean ever-powerful and manly. I guess no one will be able to tell me I didn’t bring it on myself since we gave him the same names, only in the reverse order.



I’d like to introduce Andrew Eric. Together with our last name his monogram is AWE. Eric would definitely have approved of that.

#303 Fear

I am scared. I am having a c-section today. This is the way that I bring my children into the world.




I labored with my first born child for 12 hours with no signs of progression before my doctor called it. She said a c-section would be the way to go; she thought the cord might be wrapped around his neck. It was not, but my beautiful blond baby boy still entered the world through my abdominal wall.



At the time I had my second child it was thought that it was too dangerous to try laboring after a c-section. The thinking has changed since then, but too late for me. My precocious mischievous boy came as scheduled in the operating room.



I was terrified both times, but had more time for the fear to hit me the second time.



Long after the fear faded my husband and I made a choice to try and have a third child. Today this highly anticipated boy will make his scheduled appearance. And I am scared.



I am worried about him and about me. I am worried about what would happen to my family—my husband, my kids, my parents if something were to happen to me. Eric didn’t knowingly put himself into a potentially fatal position, but I did.



Hopefully all of this fear is unfounded, but just in case, to my sons, my husband, my parents, my in-laws, my extended family—I love you all. I am proud of you all. I am honored to be a part of your family.

#302 Getting Old

Wow, I knew I was right when I was writing yesterday’s blog post, I just didn’t know how right I was. Apparently I am already obsolete. Or at least blogging is. According to both Time magazine and CNN this morning, blogging is losing favor with the young and hip. They have moved on to social networking sites like facebook and twitter and given up on the “long” format.




First of all, I didn’t know these posts were long. Second of all, I love facebook, but it doesn’t let me express myself the way this blog does. Third of all, I still can’t figure out how to make twitter useful in my life. I guess that’s because I’m not young and hip anymore…if I ever was to begin with.



I wonder where Eric would be on the technology spectrum. Until yesterday I would have guessed that he would be with all the young and hip people, and that could still be right. Except that yesterday even my totally tech savvy husband admitted that twitter doesn’t do all that much for him.



I think we’re getting old. And I hate that not only can’t we know where Eric would stand on this issue, but that he’s not getting old with us.

#301 Singularity

Eric was hugely interested in science fiction and artificial intelligence. What would he have thought, I wonder, about Watson’s huge win on Jeopardy!? (Watson being a computer)




I just read an article in Time magazine on the Singularity movement, the idea that men and machine will converge in just a few decades. Or maybe that machine will take over completely. Then there are the people who view humans as little more than complex machines and believe that eternal life is possible if you can only root out all of the bugs and apply the appropriate patches.



All of this is fascinating, if hard for me to take in. I am not a technological whiz. Sure I can facebook and email and use my new iPhone; but I am not an early adopter and I really don’t use the devices I have to their fullest potential.



I will probably be one of the people left behind when the computers take over; I just won’t be able to keep up.



I wonder how this will affect my life and the lives of my children. And I’m sorry that Eric isn’t here to debate it all with me because he would undoubtedly be more informed than I am and have some concrete opinions about it. Whereas I am just going to watch and wait. Unless the computers make me do something…..

#300 Tough Guy Tattoo

My 7-year-old learned to ride a bicycle today. It was really exciting. He has had the bike for over a year, and when he got it he didn’t want any training wheels, but today is the first day he has figured it out. To be fair, his practice sessions have been few and far between. We live on a hill and until he can really ride, it’s not a great place for bikes. Put that together with weather issues, busy schedules and us forgetting about the bike, and it’s been a while since we’ve taken him out regularly.




My husband took him out a few weekends ago and even with the requisite helmet, my son was too scared to really attempt to ride. He didn’t want to try again until he had knee and elbow pads. He’s not the bravest of children…. So after purchasing “Cars” knee pads, elbow pads and gloves, they went to try it again. And lo and behold he got the hang of it! He even fell and scraped his chest and my husband convinced him it was a “tough guy tattoo” and now he’s proud of his wound.



I remember learning to ride a two-wheeler and the confidence and independence that came with that skill. I don’t remember when Eric learned to ride, but I do remember our family bike rides around town. For a while we went every night after dinner. Maybe that’s something we’ll do when our boys are older.



I also remember laughing with Eric about the proposed requirements for bike helmets. We didn’t think that would ever happen. No child would wear one, it was just too uncool. Little did we know…. Now, as a mother, I won’t let my kid on a bike without one.



And then my kid one-upped me by asking for extra protection. If he doesn’t care then neither do I—better safe than sorry.

#299 Nests

Eric always loved the bathtub. When he was little he would wake my mother before sunrise and demand a bath. Later, he and I would take our sleeping bags and sleep in the bathtub (sans water, of course). Still later, he would do his homework or just sit and read a book in the bath. He was a big fan.




My kids like enclosed spaces. They will read or play with their iPod Touches in the closet. Or in a cardboard box. Or on the couch completely covered with a blanket.



Today my oldest son decided to watch his Touch in the bathtub. He crawled in there with 2 pillows and a Snuggie, made himself a nest and was happy in there for over an hour.



I like enclosed spaces also. I like the corner of the couch and at restaurants I like to sit in the back and face the door. My mom and I often fight over this spot. I don’t get the bathtub thing though. When I was little our pediatrician said I had to stop taking long baths because I had eczema and it dried my skin out too much. Later, I just didn’t take to them. I did like “sleeping” in there with Eric, but decided it was much too uncomfortable way before he did. It would not be my nest of choice.



My son must have gotten that from Eric.

#298 Whining

There’s nothing like the last month of pregnancy to turn you into a whiner. I’m huge. It hurts to walk. I can’t find a comfortable position in which to sit. I can’t sleep. I’m hungry but food gives me heartburn. And yes, I know, I volunteered for all of this. And I also know that it’s going to be harder, although in different ways, once the baby is actually here.




There’s nothing like premature death to remind you why you shouldn’t be whining. At least I’m here. At least I can still see, touch, hug, talk to my loved ones. I can enjoy the beautiful weather we’ve had for the last couple of days. I have a future to anticipate.



So I’m going to try and suck it up and deal. I’m going to get through the next 5 days until the baby is here and then I’m going to keep going. I’m going to do my best to keep all the balls in the air and take care of myself, my kids, my husband and maybe even my house. At least I won’t need to worry about work for 2 months. But I’ll deal with that when it comes too.



Because I have the privilege of still being here.

#297 Tennis

Once again I’m not working and I’m late with a blog. At this point I am running around trying to get a million things done before the baby comes and just haven’t had a chance to sit down and write. I contemplated no blog and almost went through with it. But here I am. I know I will be missing days next week after the baby comes, but I don’t want to start this early.




This afternoon I took my older son to his Tae Kwon Do class and then we watched my younger son in his gym class until it was time for us all to go home. My younger son’s class was learning tennis today. It was adorable. They had a mini-net set up in the middle of an indoor gym with a court delineated with colorful plastic mini-cones. The kids were placed in two lines and the gym teacher and an assistant lobbed balls over the net to them. Each line had a classroom teacher helping and each kid got one chance to hit the ball him or herself and if they missed the teacher helped them hit the next one. They all had a lot of fun, but my son had a great day. He figured out how to hit the ball on his second try and didn’t miss after that. He would jump up and down, pump his fists and scream yes every time he hit the ball. When they were done he looked at me and said, “Best day ever!” I may need to sign him up for tennis lessons.



It made me think of Eric. I never knew he liked to play tennis until he moved to Las Vegas and started playing with a “friend”. I was curious because he seemed to spend an awful lot of time with this “friend”, but he assured me there was nothing going on. Well, it turned out he was wrong; he just hadn’t figured it out yet. His friend was Katie. If tennis could bring Katie into Eric’s life, then maybe I should sign both boys up for lessons.

#296 Monkey Bars

A friend of mine just posted this on facebook.




"Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars. You have to let go at some point in order to move forward." – Unknown



Wow. This is so true. And the letting go is so hard. Because I don’t want to let go. What does that mean if I let go? Is it the path to forgetting? Does it mean Eric is no longer influential in my life? How can I let go of my brother?



In some ways I am letting go without realizing it. Time and life just do that for us. But I just can’t consciously do any letting go. I can’t and I don’t want to.



But I have to move forward. Even if I don’t want to life just keeps dragging me that way. Sometimes I feel like a piece of driftwood in the rapids, other times I seem to have more control. But still, ever forward I go. Because you can’t go backwards and you can’t stay still. As much as you want to sometimes.



Next week we take a huge step forward as a new baby enters our lives. A baby that will never know Eric’s smile outside of pictures. A baby who will never get an outrageously loud and enormous gift from him. A baby who will not have crazily posed pictures taken by him. A deprived baby. But still, my baby, who is loved and will move us forward.



I’m going to stretch my arms on the monkey bars as far as they will go. I have to move forward but I don’t want to let go

#295 Life Isn't Fair

Life isn’t fair. I know this. I try to teach my boys this, although it will be many years before they finally get it, if ever. Still, sometimes you have to wonder.




Here’s Eric, doing everything he can to be healthy, eating right, exercising and bam, he’s gone, out of nowhere.



Then there’s Charlie Sheen, doing everything he can not to be healthy and not caring about the consequences. In an interview with Dan Patrick yesterday he said life was boring without alcohol and drugs and that crack use is ok if you can manage it socially.



Don’t get me wrong, I don’t wish anything bad to happen to Charlie Sheen or anyone else, I just don’t understand. And I’m never going to be able to understand and it’s hard to come to terms with that.



It also makes it hard to do what I know is right in my own life. Why eat right and watch my weight if there is no certainty it’s going to do anything for me? Why not just enjoy the chocolate and Cheetos and live a life of hedonistic pleasure since we never know when it’s going to end anyway?



That’s the conundrum. To play by the rules sacrificing some pleasures in the hopes of gaining longevity and the ability to enjoy it, or taking what you can when you can before the time runs out.



Balance is probably the key. Here’s hoping we can all find some.

#294 Showers

I just had a wonderful baby shower at work. I have amazing co-workers and they really went all out. The cake was beautiful (and yummy), the gifts were adorable and useful and the well wishes made my day. It was supposed to be a surprise, but someone told me by accident last week. That was ok by me as it gave me something to look forward to all weekend.




I was thinking about it and wondering why we call it a shower. That made me think that Eric would have a field day with that. Of course it’s not my first shower, I had one for my wedding and for my other sons, and I take one everyday. I’d be surprised if Eric hadn’t commented on it in the past, but I don’t remember him doing so.



I can imagine him scoffing at the word and wondering why not a baby bath or a baby bidet? Are you really showered with gifts? Why not a baby drizzle or a baby downpour? He, of course, would have much funnier phrasing and ideas than I do.



Well, Eric, I looked it up. According to Wikipedia no one really knows where the term comes from, but it may have originated with a Victorian custom of putting the gifts in a parasol so when it was opened the recipient was literally showered with gifts. One the one hand, where is my parasol?? On the other hand, ouch.

#293 Oops...

I almost forgot to write a blog today. I do have a lot on my mind—the impending birth of my third son, the worry that I might be coming down with a cold and how that will affect the impending birth of my child. How the impending birth of this child will affect my other children…




That doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about Eric, because I am. I guess some days I just think about him more than others. I know I have looked at pictures of him today. First of all, they are all over my house, and second of all, I get an ache in my gut every time I look at one, and I know I’ve felt that today.



I’m just not sleeping very well (thank you increasingly large child and increasingly small bladder), and trying to get everything I can done before I can’t do anything at all.



So I guess I’ll post this blog to keep my streak going and hope I find something more interesting for tomorrow. Thanks for reading.

#292 Temple

We just got back from Temple. We went to services because my 7 year old was singing with his religious school choir there. This was the first time I had been to services in about as long as I can remember and the first time my husband and kids ever been.




Even though I’m not very religious, I still expected to feel something. I can remember going to services when I was younger and feeling some awe and reverence at the experience and the words and the music. Today I didn’t feel much at all.



I kept thinking about Eric and his search for religion and spirituality in his life. He eventually found what he was looking for in Christianity. To be honest, I’m not really looking, but there is a part of me that wishes I was more engaged. I liked seeing my family all dressed up, I just wish I felt more a part of that community. I wish it filled a need in my life.



The service was ok. It was led by the sixth grade youth group and they were hard to hear which made the service hard to follow. The melodies to the songs were all different from the ones I had grown up with, and frankly pretty monotonous. I spent most of the time trying to keep my 4 year old relatively quiet and amused while waiting for the older son to sing.



The choir did a great job, although we need to work on stage presence with my son. I happen to know he loved being up there, but if you didn’t know that you’d think he hated it. He looked scared and he yawned, hugely, twice. Of course another little boy was picking stuff out of his ears….



I’m glad we went because it meant a lot to my son. I spent the morning before we went wondering if I’d want to make it a more common occurrence in our lives. I think I know the answer to that now.

#291 Ever-powerful and Manly

It seems I am not the only one in the house who is interested in names. Of course, we are all thinking about names because we have a new little one coming who is going to need one, but lately my 7 year old has been asking about name meanings. He learned at religious school that Isaac means “laughing one”, and told the little boy in his class named Isaac about this. They both agreed that the meaning fit.




While I know I investigated the meanings of their names before I named my kids, I must admit that had little to do with why I chose the names and I have forgotten the meanings. Last night we looked them up.



My oldest son’s first name means “asked of God”. This is actually pretty appropriate given that we had to go through fertility treatments before we were able to get pregnant with him and I know I was desperately asking God for a baby.



My second son’s name means “goodness of the Lord”. Again this is appropriate. I had a miscarriage in between the births of our two sons, so the Lord was being good in letting me carry this baby to term, and my son is (generally) a good sweet child.



We didn’t stop with the meanings of the kids’ names; we looked up my name and my husband’s as well. My husband’s name means “who is like God”. I hope he doesn’t get too carried away by that. My name means “consecrated to God”. From all of this you’d think we are a pretty religious family, which we are not.



Later I looked up the meaning of Eric. It means “ever-powerful”. Then I looked up his middle name. It means “manly”. Mom, Dad, if there’s anything to this name meaning stuff and Eric’s behavior as a child, I think you brought it on yourselves.

#290 iPhone!

Today I get it. I truly understand Eric’s fascination with all things Apple. I had a Mac color classic computer when I was in college, but didn’t really notice much difference when I switched to a PC. I have played with the iPod touches that we have and I have a smaller iPod that I rarely use, but I wouldn’t say I was over the moon with those. Not that I didn’t like them, I just wasn’t gaga over them. I’m sort of gaga over the iPad my husband just got for his birthday, but that’s not really mine.




Today I got an iPhone. Thank you Verizon and Apple for finally coming to an agreement. Thank you contract for being up so I could get the discounted phone. I have spent all day (in between errands, an ob appointment, more errands, after school activities, making dinner, etc) experimenting with my email, the internet, apps, facebook and texting. You’d think I’d never done any of this before, but it is all so different, and so much better on the iPhone. In fact, I think the only thing I don’t like about the iPhone is how you spell it. That second letter capitalization thing gets me every time.



So Eric, today I understand a little bit more. I’m sorry you never got to have one. You would have loved it and like my husband, you would have done more with it than I ever will. But I’ll try to use it for both of us. Now I have to go, there’s probably an app I desperately need to download.

#289 Exhaustion

Today I volunteered at both of my boys’ schools. This morning I helped out at pajama day at the 4 year old’s preschool. We did an art project and made dream catchers out of paper plates, string, stickers, paint and beads. It was a lot of fun. The kids were adorable (as always), and I really enjoyed myself.




Later I went to my older son’s first grade class to teach a lesson on citizenship as part of their character education curriculum. Usually I really enjoy doing this as well, but today I was a little bit late and we bumped up against the end of the school day and the whole thing felt a little bit hurried. Also, only two kids in the normally very interactive class seemed interested in answering any questions. One of those kids was my son and while I love that he wants to participate, I hate to always call on him when I’m in the classroom. Citizenship can be a difficult topic to grasp though, so I had to do a little bit more explaining than usual. Honesty and Justice, the character traits I’ve taught so far come a little easier to the first grade mind.



This was an ambitious day for me given my advanced state of pregnancy (2 weeks to go!), but it’s going to be easier for me to do this stuff now than it will be when the baby is here. I’m glad I did it, but boy am I exhausted. And of course I still had to do all the normal mommy stuff—help with homework, piano practice, make lunches for tomorrow, dinner tonight, etc, etc, etc. I’m not complaining, not at all, just rationalizing the exhaustion.



I was thinking about how exhausted I was when I happened to glance at a picture of Eric and realized that he would scoff at my exhaustion. He wouldn’t understand the effort just being pregnant takes (Does any man really? Let alone one who’s never lived with a pregnant woman?) and he never understood normal exhaustion anyway. He never seemed to tire; he just went and went and went until he dropped. And then he started going again as soon as he woke up.



I have never been like that as much as I envy it. I need my down time. But sometimes it’s not worth it. Sometimes it’s worth it to exert the time and energy on my kids. Besides, I’m going to be distracted enough from these two when number three gets here. Here’s hoping some of Eric’s energy somehow finds its way to me. I’m going to need it.

#288 Frustration

I am a doctor. My job is to help people. Why do some of those people make it so difficult? I have one patient in particular who is driving me nuts lately. She has a potentially serious (as in BLINDING) eye condition. I diagnosed this about three years ago and she neglected to follow my advice or even follow up with me. She has recently come back in due to other problems with her health and had seemed to be more compliant. She has no insurance so I do what I can to help her out financially. I discount my fee, don’t charge for diagnostic tests and use generic medication.




In return she doesn’t show up for appointments, calls all the time and refuses to talk with my tech insisting only on speaking to me.



Yesterday she called and would not tell my tech why she was calling. By the time I was able to call her back it was after 5:00. She told me then that she thought she was having an allergic reaction to the medication that had started 3 days ago so she took herself off of the medication. That’s fine, she did the right thing. All of the medications I have to treat this particular disease are related, however, so I’m concerned about starting her on a different one without medical supervision. It was too late in the day to reach her primary care physician so I told her I’d have to address the issue the next day.



Today I spoke with her primary care physician and explained the situation to him. I arranged for her to be able to go to his office and take her first dose of medication there so that if she had a life-threatening allergic reaction she would be in good hands.



I then called the patient and explained all of this. Her first reaction was to ask me if she was going to have to pay for the visit and tell me she wasn’t going to go if that was the case.



I understand financial pressures, I really and truly do, but these things are out of my control. I am already taking a loss seeing her (my salary consists solely of a percentage of the charges I collect) and spending way more of time on her than I do on many patients. I really don’t mind the work or the time; my goal is to do the best for my patients. I mind her attitude. It’s like she thinks I am making things up and asking her to do things solely to drain her finances. I AM TRYING TO KEEP HER FROM GOING BLIND OR DYING.



I think back to last December and how amazing Eric’s doctors were and how we would have done anything, spent anything, gone anywhere to help improve his condition. I think about the re-arranging of my schedule to get my kids to doctor’s appointments and keep them home when they are sick. I don’t mind any of that. It’s just how the world works.



I’m sorry I can’t make her disease go away with a wave of my hand. I’m sorry she is not in a financial position to truly care for herself. But how is any of that my fault?



I will continue to care for her and I will do my absolute best to make all of this as easy for her as possible. But wow does she try my patience.

#287 Doritos and Death

So how about that Superbowl? Yes, we watched even though our two teams (the Jets and the Bears) both got knocked out 2 weeks ago. It was a great game even if we didn’t really have a stake in it, and the commercials were pretty good too.




Eric wouldn’t have had any interest in the game, but he would have liked the commercials--especially the Doritos commercials. I liked them all even though I was thoroughly weirded out by the one guy licking the other guy’s finger to get at the left-over cheese powder. I do wonder about the company’s preoccupation with death though. In one of this year’s spots a friend house sits for another friend and forgets to feed the fish and water the plant. Both subsequently die and are revived when sprinkled with Doritos crumbs. Then as the house-sitting friend is dusting he knocks over an urn of ashes and miraculously brings Grandpa back to life with Doritos.



In one of last year’s spots a man fakes his own death in order to get his wish of being buried in a casket full of Doritos.



I have to say, it never occurred to me to bury (or cremate) Eric with Doritos though he would have thoroughly approved. Mourning him by eating them is something he probably would have liked more though. Why waste a good Dorito?



Doritos may arguably be the king of chips, but they are not life-giving. If they were, well, we used have used that power over a year ago.



Still, my favorite commercial was not a Doritos commercial, but was another one that Eric would have appreciated. A little boy was dressed as Darth Vader (a character from Star Wars—how could Eric not like that?) and tried in vain to use his dark powers until dad comes home and gives him some stealth help from the car remote. The little boy thinks he starts the car and turns the headlights on—much to his surprise. It was really cute, especially because my 4 year old and I used to play this game in reverse—he thought he was blowing my headlights out when I would press the lock button on the remote. Eventually he got too smart for that game though. Now he just asks if he can do the remote himself.



Eric would have approved of that too.

#286 Shoes

I was having trouble motivating myself to write a blog today. I was not feeling inspired, I was annoyed at my children and I’m as big as a house. It’s just that kind of day. Then I talked to my mom.




I was telling her why I’m so annoyed with my seven year old. I mentioned yesterday that we signed the kids up for little league and they went out to get cleats. While they were out I told my husband that if they found new sneakers for my seven year old they should get them since his are starting to fall apart. They came home with really cool light up shoes that my son seemed genuinely excited about. Then later that day he asked us if he “had” to get new shoes because he really missed his old ones and even starting crying about it. As if we were forcing him to abandon a beloved toy for an unworthy substitute. This got me really angry. Here I am trying to do something nice, replace the shoes whose stitching is starting to come apart and whose laces are frayed almost beyond recognition and he’s upset with me. So fine. We took the new shoes back and he can duct tape the old ones together when they start falling apart. He’s happy and I’m still pissed. I just wish I knew where all of this came from…it’s obviously not the first time he’s gotten a new pair of shoes.



So anyway, I told my mom the story and she told me to write about shoes. I couldn’t think of any shoe related Eric stories, so she told me some.



My mother genuinely loves shoes. All shoes. Sandals, heels, boots, flip-flops…ok, maybe not sneakers, but almost all shoes. And she has a closet full of them to prove it. Eric used to call her Imelda Marcos after the Phillipino dictator’s wife who was caught with thousands of pairs of shoes while her country was starving. 2700 pairs to be exact. Now my mom doesn’t have quite that many pairs…but it’s close. I didn’t realize that after Eric started calling her that she started sneaking new pairs of shoes into the house so he wouldn’t see. Oh the things we do because of our kids.



She also told me a story about a much younger Eric. When Eric and I were both really little she and my dad took us to get new shoes. We both got sneakers and sandals. My dad, not normally present on these shopping expeditions (because he was usually working to pay for it all) was outraged by the price of the shoes. Knowing my mother, the shoes weren’t anything extravagant, but they seemed expensive to my dad. Later, Eric managed to lose one of his sandals in the back yard, requiring another shoe purchase. I’m sure both of my parents were thrilled.



I’ll get over my shoe anger and eventually I’ll let the seven year old get a new pair of shoes, but not for a long, long while. I hope his feet don’t grow too quickly.

#285 Baseball

Today my husband took the boys out bright and early and signed them up for Little League. My oldest son has already played 2 years of Tee-ball and is moving up to machine pitch. My younger son is thrilled to finally be old enough to play. For the last two years he’s been watching his older brother play and not very patiently waiting his turn. It’s been a challenge to keep him off the field.




After sign-ups they went out for breakfast (I told you it was early!) and then to a sporting goods store to buy cleats and other supplies. They are both so excited, and truthfully so is their dad. My husband has helped to coach the last couple of years, but not this year as we’ll have a new baby and the logistics are already going to be tough enough with two kids playing. I’m sure he’ll go back to coaching in the future though. Although I find it as boring as watching grass grow (except when my kids are playing) baseball is my husband’s favorite sport and he’s working hard to cultivate that in our kids.



Eric on the other hand was very anti-baseball. In his little league days he was the kid in the outfield with a magnifying glass trying to start a fire. No joke, he really did that. Or maybe he just used his own glasses, but still baseball was not his thing. Friends of his had a baby, and this was the blanket he made (well, modified) for them.

Even so, I know Eric would have been proud to cheer on his nephews. He was just that kind of guy.

#284 Creativity

If you’ve been reading this blog all along, you’ll know I belong to a book club. I’ve had several posts inspired by the books we’ve read and our discussions, including ones on “The Happiness Project” by Gretchen Rubin and “The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks” by Rebecca Skloot. We had another meeting this week and discussed a book that I never would have guessed would have inspired a blog post, “Just Kids” by Patti Smith.




“Just Kids” is a memoir about the relationship between Patti Smith (the rocker) and Robert Mapplethorpe (the photographer) before they were famous, and even before they had truly discovered their art forms. In truth, it’s not a book I enjoyed very much, I had trouble connecting to the characters, but I seem to be in the minority—at least in my book club. We did, however, have a very stimulating discussion about it which, after all, is the point.



I think all of us were a little jealous of the fount of creativity that both Smith and Mapplethorpe were able to muster, and that they didn’t let anything get in their way, not poverty or hunger or sexuality or rejection. They found a way to make things happen. Of course, they didn’t have kids or mortgages like most of us do.



One of our members asked if there is a way to be creative, to find that inspiration among other artists, even while living and maintaining a suburban life. It’s not that we don’t like our lives; it’s just that we want more. Who doesn’t? I think this is one of the reasons there are so many 30-something mommy bloggers out there.



I think that if anyone could answer that question it would have been Eric. Granted, he didn’t have kids or a mortgage, but he still maintained a career and went to school and paid the rent all the while writing a book of poetry, designing a dress, rock climbing and more. A true Renaissance man. It’s a pity we no longer have his input, although I’m not sure he would be able to articulate how he did it all, he just did.



Eric, I’m grateful to you for helping me find this creative outlet in my otherwise typical (though wonderful) suburban life. I just wish I had found it for another reason.

#283 2009...or not...

So after yesterday’s blog, I thought today’s would be easy. I did the year of Eric’s birth yesterday, so today I would do the year of his death. It turns out Wikipedia has a lot more information on 2009 than they do on 1974. I haven’t even had time to go through it all. There are news stories by day, not month. So then I thought, well I’ll look at the day he died. It turns out there’s not much else that happened on December 8, 2009 that really resonates with how I think about Eric.




So much for that bright idea.



And of course it’s now 7:00 pm because I’ve been busy running around all day. Sometimes I think the days I don’t work are busier than the days I do work.



All of this means I don’t really have much to say or much time to say it in. My wonderful husband is currently giving the boys their bath, but once they’re done it’s time for me to help put them to bed. After that my husband and I are going to have dinner and have some time to ourselves.



I don’t think Eric would mind if I don’t spend that time on him. In light of all that, this is all there is for today. See you tomorrow.

#282 1977

I was falling asleep to my usual roster of crime shows last night when one happened to mention the year 1977. That’s the year Eric was born. It made me think that I haven’t explored what was going on in the year of his birth for a blog topic yet. Yes, I do find myself constantly thinking in terms of blog topics now, that’s what happens when you try to write one everyday.




So this morning I went to Wikipedia and looked up 1977. Of course, a lot of things happened that year, but there are some that are surprisingly connected to Eric. For example, in January of that year the world’s first personal computer, the Commodore PET was demonstrated at the Consumer Electronics Show in Chicago, and the first one was sold in September. Also in January, Apple Inc. was incorporated and their first computers also went on sale in June.



The bacteria causing Legionnaires’ disease was identified that year, important to us only because my family later stayed in the legendary hotel in Philadelphia where the disease arose. It was disease free when we stayed there.



The sci-fi movie The Hobbit premiered on American television that year, something Eric truly would have appreciated. And even more appropriate, Star Wars debuted that year.



David Berkowitz (Son of Sam) was captured and Elvis Presley died that year, big events, but not really related to Eric.



But Squidward Tentacles, SpongeBob Squarepants’s clarinet playing next-door neighbor was born that year (oddly enough on the same day my second son was born) and I know that would have meant a lot to Eric.

#281 Deep Thoughts

I’m sitting here wondering if I think about Eric too much. Is that possible? Does it matter? I think about him all the time. This morning he was there in my mind on the drive to drop my son off at school, in the drive-through at Starbucks and many times already as I’ve been at work. Part of it is related to this blog—I know I need to write something for today, but not all of it.




How much is normal? I don’t know. I started thinking about how much I think about the other loved ones in my life, but I guess I don’t really pay attention. I think about the new baby an awful lot, mostly because he’s attached to me and makes it hard for me to move and I can’t believe he’s going to be here three weeks from tomorrow!



I have already written 2 emails concerning my older son—one for school and one for his religious school choir, and am waiting on a reply from my other son’s Tae Kwon Do teacher.



My husband and I have already emailed back and forth on various mundane topics including the electrician’s morning visit (thankfully no big deal) and summer camp for the kids.



I have checked in by text with a friend of mine who recently had a baby, and I know I will be talking to my parents this afternoon as I usually do. I’ve also exchanged emails with some other friends.



I guess when the people I care about are here and I can interact with them everyday I don’t think about how much I think about them. My thoughts about Eric don’t interfere with work or life so they’re probably not excessive. It will be a sad day for me if I ever realize I haven’t been thinking about him as much. I guess that means I think about him just the right amount.