I can’t believe what a slacker I’ve been lately. One little newborn baby and all of a sudden I’m skipping days of blogging! Oh well, hopefully you’ll put up with me and keep checking for new posts.
My 7 year old brought home a book from the school library the other day about a kid who puts lots of things in his pockets. I can’t remember the title and it wasn’t really that good, but it did bring up an Eric memory. One of the things the little boy in the book sees (but thankfully doesn’t put in his pocket) is a crayfish.
I remember catching crayfish with Eric at Island Beach, the local lake where we used to swim in the summers. It was called Island Beach because, well, the beach was an island. Very creative. You had to go over a small foot bridge to get there from the parking lot. The parking lot wasn’t paved but was covered with small rocks and we’d walk mincingly over them in our bare feet to and from the car. I’m not sure why we didn’t put shoes on, but we didn’t. There was a small concession stand on the parking lot side of the bridge, and monkey bars on the beach side of the bridge. There was a lifeguard chair on the beach and a raft floating at the far edge of the roped-in swimming area and that was it. And it was wonderful. It was only about a mile from our house so we spent a lot of time there.
The area under the bridge and between the beach and the rest of the lake front were great places to catch minnows and crayfish and we caught plenty of both. Once we even brought crayfish home in a Tupperware container and tried to keep them as pets. I don’t think that lasted very long.
I had not forgotten about the beach, but I had forgotten about catching crayfish until this book. Not only did it bring back a great memory for me, but it provided an opportunity for me to share it with my son and talk about Uncle Eric. So I guess even boring books can have redeeming qualities.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
#329 Shelves and Mirrors
One of my favorite Eric stories took place when he was decorating his first apartment in San Diego. He had just graduated from college, bought his first car and road-tripped across the country with a friend. (After getting a ticket on the way home from the car dealership for driving the wrong way down a one-way street)
He was determined to have an adult apartment, not a kid just out of college apartment, so he was decorating. He wanted to hang shelves. He got them and the appropriate tools and proceeded to hang said shelves. When he was done he was disappointed, he thought they were a little too high. When we asked if he had measured he said yes, but he was standing on a box when he did so. Only Eric.
When my parents visited him later the shelves were still hanging, but the brackets were upside down or backwards or something I could never really picture. He apparently did that on purpose for aesthetic reasons. Again, only Eric.
Last winter my husband and I went to Tucson where I had a medical conference. We bought a mirror framed in painted tiles and punched tin. It took us a long time to get around to hanging it (it usually does), but we finally got it up on the wall. I decided the spot and left the actual hanging to my husband. It’s way too high. And not because he’s that tall or because he was standing on a box. Even though I can’t even see the top of my head when I walk by the mirror, I don’t want him to re-hang it. It hangs right outside the door to my bedroom and makes me remember Eric and smile every time I walk by.
He was determined to have an adult apartment, not a kid just out of college apartment, so he was decorating. He wanted to hang shelves. He got them and the appropriate tools and proceeded to hang said shelves. When he was done he was disappointed, he thought they were a little too high. When we asked if he had measured he said yes, but he was standing on a box when he did so. Only Eric.
When my parents visited him later the shelves were still hanging, but the brackets were upside down or backwards or something I could never really picture. He apparently did that on purpose for aesthetic reasons. Again, only Eric.
Last winter my husband and I went to Tucson where I had a medical conference. We bought a mirror framed in painted tiles and punched tin. It took us a long time to get around to hanging it (it usually does), but we finally got it up on the wall. I decided the spot and left the actual hanging to my husband. It’s way too high. And not because he’s that tall or because he was standing on a box. Even though I can’t even see the top of my head when I walk by the mirror, I don’t want him to re-hang it. It hangs right outside the door to my bedroom and makes me remember Eric and smile every time I walk by.
Monday, March 28, 2011
#328 Recovered Memories
I treasure every time a seemingly random conversation helps me remember something about Eric.
I took my four year old to a friend’s house for a play date yesterday. The baby and I stayed too, to hang out with the friend’s parents. We all had a great time. His friend’s father had just gotten an iPad, so of course we had to talk about that. I left my phone at home so of course we had to talk about that and about how dependant I have become on it. There is a breastfeeding app and well, let’s just say, yesterday was the first time I fed the baby without it and I felt totally discombobulated having to time it myself! Somewhere in all of this talk about Apple and iDevices I remembered that Eric was going to write an iPhone app. He wanted to create a program that would sync your calendar with a GPS mapping program and a traffic program to help business people get to meetings on time. He had investigated programmers and my husband and parents and I were planning on investing in him. Then he did the patent search. Someone else had patented, but not developed the idea. And that was the end of it.
Sometimes I forget how creative and into everything Eric was. There was not a topic that didn’t interest him or that he didn’t think he could improve.
Thanks to D and Z for helping me recover this memory. There are only so many and I don’t want to forget a thing.
I took my four year old to a friend’s house for a play date yesterday. The baby and I stayed too, to hang out with the friend’s parents. We all had a great time. His friend’s father had just gotten an iPad, so of course we had to talk about that. I left my phone at home so of course we had to talk about that and about how dependant I have become on it. There is a breastfeeding app and well, let’s just say, yesterday was the first time I fed the baby without it and I felt totally discombobulated having to time it myself! Somewhere in all of this talk about Apple and iDevices I remembered that Eric was going to write an iPhone app. He wanted to create a program that would sync your calendar with a GPS mapping program and a traffic program to help business people get to meetings on time. He had investigated programmers and my husband and parents and I were planning on investing in him. Then he did the patent search. Someone else had patented, but not developed the idea. And that was the end of it.
Sometimes I forget how creative and into everything Eric was. There was not a topic that didn’t interest him or that he didn’t think he could improve.
Thanks to D and Z for helping me recover this memory. There are only so many and I don’t want to forget a thing.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
#327 Time
If this blog had a theme other than Eric, it would be time. Time is so precious and so fleeting and so unpredictable. We never know how much we are going to get.
Time passes so quickly sometimes. It is incredible to me that my oldest child is seven and that I now have a third baby. How did that happen?? And soon my baby won’t be a baby anymore. Every moment of his babyhood seems extra precious to me in part because I know how fast this will pass and in part because I know this is my last baby.
I was originally planning on taking 2 months off from work. I can take 3 months according to FMLA, but I wasn’t going to take the whole time. My leave is all unpaid and I only got to take 6 weeks with the other boys so I thought 8 weeks would be plenty of time. I was wrong.
I have been stressing all week about whether or not to take the extra 4 weeks. On the one hand, I get to spend more time with my baby and the other boys. On the other hand I have another month of missed income and my tech has to reschedule a month’s worth of patients. Everyone whose advice I’ve asked for has told me to take the extra time. I can work forever; my son will only be a baby once.
I don’t know why it took me so long to come around, but I am taking the full 3 months. If I have learned anything from Eric’s death it’s that time is precious. I have this one opportunity to spend my time where I want to, with my family. I’d better take it; it’s not going to come by again.
Time passes so quickly sometimes. It is incredible to me that my oldest child is seven and that I now have a third baby. How did that happen?? And soon my baby won’t be a baby anymore. Every moment of his babyhood seems extra precious to me in part because I know how fast this will pass and in part because I know this is my last baby.
I was originally planning on taking 2 months off from work. I can take 3 months according to FMLA, but I wasn’t going to take the whole time. My leave is all unpaid and I only got to take 6 weeks with the other boys so I thought 8 weeks would be plenty of time. I was wrong.
I have been stressing all week about whether or not to take the extra 4 weeks. On the one hand, I get to spend more time with my baby and the other boys. On the other hand I have another month of missed income and my tech has to reschedule a month’s worth of patients. Everyone whose advice I’ve asked for has told me to take the extra time. I can work forever; my son will only be a baby once.
I don’t know why it took me so long to come around, but I am taking the full 3 months. If I have learned anything from Eric’s death it’s that time is precious. I have this one opportunity to spend my time where I want to, with my family. I’d better take it; it’s not going to come by again.
Friday, March 25, 2011
#326 They're only things
During my maternity leave I have become an HGTV junkie. It doesn’t really matter what show is on, it’s pretty much always on at my house. My favorite show is “Selling New York” where they take you inside luxury Manhattan apartments. I actually have the DVR set to record that one. The others are kind of like junk romance novels. They fill the time and give me something to watch while I’m feeding or soothing the baby, but they take no effort and I don’t really care if I miss any.
Yesterday there was a show on featuring a brother and a sister who were racing each other to see who could become a homeowner first. The dynamic between the siblings was great. There was clearly a lot of competition, but there was also a lot of love and laughter. It made me think about when I was getting ready to buy my first house.
My husband and I were moving to Oklahoma where I was going to start my residency. My mom and brother and I pre-screened houses before my husband came out to look. Then we all did some more looking together. We had a great time. I love house-hunting anyway, it brings out the snoop in me (come on, you know you do it too) and it was fun to do it with Eric. In one house that hadn’t been redecorated since the 1960s he literally had us on the floor laughing with his send up of the décor. Even the realtor couldn’t resist him.
I was working at the eye institute where I would later be a resident during that time. One morning I was in the OR before meeting my mother, brother and the realtor. When I got to our meeting spot I realized that I hadn’t put my jewelry back on and I went to get it off of the ties of my scrub pants. It wasn’t there. My watch, wedding ring and engagement ring were gone. I felt sick.
Eric came back to the medical center with me and we searched through all of the OR garbage and laundry. We scoured every inch of the walkways and sidewalks. We finally recovered my watch and wedding ring at the lost and found. I never did get my engagement ring back.
The whole time as I was shaking and crying and afraid to call my husband. Eric kept telling me they were just things, it wasn’t a person. I knew he was right, but I was still really upset.
I would gladly give up all of my jewelry if I could have him back. Even the gorgeous replacement engagement ring that originally belonged to my grandmother. I wouldn’t even have to think about it. If only it were that easy.
Yesterday there was a show on featuring a brother and a sister who were racing each other to see who could become a homeowner first. The dynamic between the siblings was great. There was clearly a lot of competition, but there was also a lot of love and laughter. It made me think about when I was getting ready to buy my first house.
My husband and I were moving to Oklahoma where I was going to start my residency. My mom and brother and I pre-screened houses before my husband came out to look. Then we all did some more looking together. We had a great time. I love house-hunting anyway, it brings out the snoop in me (come on, you know you do it too) and it was fun to do it with Eric. In one house that hadn’t been redecorated since the 1960s he literally had us on the floor laughing with his send up of the décor. Even the realtor couldn’t resist him.
I was working at the eye institute where I would later be a resident during that time. One morning I was in the OR before meeting my mother, brother and the realtor. When I got to our meeting spot I realized that I hadn’t put my jewelry back on and I went to get it off of the ties of my scrub pants. It wasn’t there. My watch, wedding ring and engagement ring were gone. I felt sick.
Eric came back to the medical center with me and we searched through all of the OR garbage and laundry. We scoured every inch of the walkways and sidewalks. We finally recovered my watch and wedding ring at the lost and found. I never did get my engagement ring back.
The whole time as I was shaking and crying and afraid to call my husband. Eric kept telling me they were just things, it wasn’t a person. I knew he was right, but I was still really upset.
I would gladly give up all of my jewelry if I could have him back. Even the gorgeous replacement engagement ring that originally belonged to my grandmother. I wouldn’t even have to think about it. If only it were that easy.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
#325 Children of the 80s
Eric and I grew up in the 80s. It was a decade of big hair, Madonna bracelets, jelly shoes, Indiana Jones and break dancing. So many really poor style choices….
It was our decade though and while I didn’t have big hair, I did wear parachute pants and hot pink oversized shirts with leggings. I had plenty of tops with shoulder pads. When I think of those times, though, I don’t think of it in style terms. It doesn’t seem outdated in my memory.
When we were in Savannah last weekend my mom and I were looking through old photos and found this one of Eric. As my husband said, it looks like he just finished watching Goonies. Welcome to the 80s.
It was our decade though and while I didn’t have big hair, I did wear parachute pants and hot pink oversized shirts with leggings. I had plenty of tops with shoulder pads. When I think of those times, though, I don’t think of it in style terms. It doesn’t seem outdated in my memory.
When we were in Savannah last weekend my mom and I were looking through old photos and found this one of Eric. As my husband said, it looks like he just finished watching Goonies. Welcome to the 80s.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
#324 Community
I found out today that a friend’s brother died last night. My heart goes out to her and her family. Her brother had cancer and was in terrible pain at the end, so in some ways it’s a relief that his suffering has ended; but of course, my friend and the rest of her family are still hurting. And they will be for a while.
I have also recently come into contact with Gael, whose comments you may have read on the blog, who also lost her brother. She writes a blog about her brother at http://hairballgazette-california.blogspot.com you should check it out.
I don’t want anyone to face that pain, but if you have to, and some of us do, it’s nice to know there are others out there facing it with you. It’s a community I never wanted to be a part of, but a kind of community none the less. I have gotten support from a friend of mine from high school whose younger brother died 10 years before Eric did. I want these three people and everyone else to know, that I’ll be there for you. Seriously. I have been there and sometimes you just need to talk or rage or be silent with someone. I’ll be that someone if you need it. Anytime.
It’s the least I can do.
I have also recently come into contact with Gael, whose comments you may have read on the blog, who also lost her brother. She writes a blog about her brother at http://hairballgazette-california.blogspot.com you should check it out.
I don’t want anyone to face that pain, but if you have to, and some of us do, it’s nice to know there are others out there facing it with you. It’s a community I never wanted to be a part of, but a kind of community none the less. I have gotten support from a friend of mine from high school whose younger brother died 10 years before Eric did. I want these three people and everyone else to know, that I’ll be there for you. Seriously. I have been there and sometimes you just need to talk or rage or be silent with someone. I’ll be that someone if you need it. Anytime.
It’s the least I can do.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
#323 Baby Boys
There must be something in the air. In the last month two of Eric’s best friends and I have all had baby boys. My baby was the first on February 23rd, then one friend on March 7th and finally the other friend March 21st.
Eric not only loved these friends, guys he knew from college, but he loved their children and wives. He loved their extended families as well. He would have loved to get to know these new babies too. He was so excited about starting a family with Katie. It wasn’t going to happen immediately, but it was definitely planned. Eric loved kids.
It’s so sad that Eric is missing out on these new arrivals, but I’m glad his friends’ families are growing. I’m also glad they had boys. Maybe these three new little ones will each have some of Eric’s traits. Besides, both of their families already had girls….
Life goes on; sometimes that makes me sad, and sometimes it doesn’t. Today it doesn’t. Today I’m happy to be cradling my almost one month old and happy that the other little baby boys are being cradled as well. I know Eric would be so thrilled at all of this.
Eric not only loved these friends, guys he knew from college, but he loved their children and wives. He loved their extended families as well. He would have loved to get to know these new babies too. He was so excited about starting a family with Katie. It wasn’t going to happen immediately, but it was definitely planned. Eric loved kids.
It’s so sad that Eric is missing out on these new arrivals, but I’m glad his friends’ families are growing. I’m also glad they had boys. Maybe these three new little ones will each have some of Eric’s traits. Besides, both of their families already had girls….
Life goes on; sometimes that makes me sad, and sometimes it doesn’t. Today it doesn’t. Today I’m happy to be cradling my almost one month old and happy that the other little baby boys are being cradled as well. I know Eric would be so thrilled at all of this.
Monday, March 21, 2011
#322 Lawn Javelins
I have mentioned again and again in these pages about the large and occasionally loud gifts that Eric has given to my kids over the years. This time I’m going to show you. We spent most of yesterday driving home from Savannah. It takes a really long time when you are travelling with a passenger who screams when he is hungry and doesn’t stop screaming until you give in and stop and feed him. Unfortunately there is no safe way to feed him while still driving.
When we got home it was dinner time and we had two stir crazy boys. After dinner we went out to play in the backyard. For a while the boys were happy on the swings and playing basketball. Then they opened the outdoor toy chest and pulled out the lawn javelins. These are easily three feet long and luckily for me are soft and blunt tipped. They were a gift from Eric; one he never got to see them enjoy. They love them and they happily threw them to (at?) each other until it was time to come in for bath and bedtime.
I love seeing them enjoy something from Eric. I hate that he can’t see it too.
When we got home it was dinner time and we had two stir crazy boys. After dinner we went out to play in the backyard. For a while the boys were happy on the swings and playing basketball. Then they opened the outdoor toy chest and pulled out the lawn javelins. These are easily three feet long and luckily for me are soft and blunt tipped. They were a gift from Eric; one he never got to see them enjoy. They love them and they happily threw them to (at?) each other until it was time to come in for bath and bedtime.
I love seeing them enjoy something from Eric. I hate that he can’t see it too.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
#321 Heartbreak all over again
What a weekend. We’re in Savannah, staying with my parents. We came down to bring the baby to see my grandmother, and my uncle flew down from New York as well. We’re having a good time and my grandmother is as in love with the baby as the rest of us, but there is a sadness underpinning it all.
It’s not an unspoken sadness either. Both older boys have been full of questions about Eric. My oldest asked my mother if Eric had a gravestone and so she had to go through the explanation of cremation with him again. Not an easy thing to explain to a 7 year old. My 4 year old confirmed at dinner last night that I didn’t want him to die. When asked why he would ask that he said he didn’t want to die like Uncle Eric.
Later last night after the boys were in bed and the adults had had dinner my mom took me into her closet to show me a new pair of shoes. We ended up on the floor crying. She has a large picture of Eric that was displayed at his memorial service in there and she talks to him everyday. I just couldn’t stop staring at it. Sometimes it all just hits me again, the rawness of the loss, the amazement that he is really and truly gone for good. The sadness that the baby will never know him.
My 4 year old has to do everything my 7 year old does, right down to repeating the same words and phrases. For example this morning the 7 year old took the baby’s hand and waved it at himself and said “Hi” in a high pitched voice that was supposed to be the baby. Then the 4 year old did the same thing with the same words and gestures and intonations. It doesn’t matter if the 4 year old understands what the 7 year old is doing or not, he does it anyway.
I’m sure that someday the baby will be copying his older brothers in the same way. It’s possible that the older boys will be talking about missing Uncle Eric and the little one will say that he misses Uncle Eric too. And I know that will break my heart all over again.
It’s not an unspoken sadness either. Both older boys have been full of questions about Eric. My oldest asked my mother if Eric had a gravestone and so she had to go through the explanation of cremation with him again. Not an easy thing to explain to a 7 year old. My 4 year old confirmed at dinner last night that I didn’t want him to die. When asked why he would ask that he said he didn’t want to die like Uncle Eric.
Later last night after the boys were in bed and the adults had had dinner my mom took me into her closet to show me a new pair of shoes. We ended up on the floor crying. She has a large picture of Eric that was displayed at his memorial service in there and she talks to him everyday. I just couldn’t stop staring at it. Sometimes it all just hits me again, the rawness of the loss, the amazement that he is really and truly gone for good. The sadness that the baby will never know him.
My 4 year old has to do everything my 7 year old does, right down to repeating the same words and phrases. For example this morning the 7 year old took the baby’s hand and waved it at himself and said “Hi” in a high pitched voice that was supposed to be the baby. Then the 4 year old did the same thing with the same words and gestures and intonations. It doesn’t matter if the 4 year old understands what the 7 year old is doing or not, he does it anyway.
I’m sure that someday the baby will be copying his older brothers in the same way. It’s possible that the older boys will be talking about missing Uncle Eric and the little one will say that he misses Uncle Eric too. And I know that will break my heart all over again.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
#320 Newborn Nephews
We are leaving tonight to drive to Savannah to bring the baby (and the other kids) to see my parents and my grandmother. The last time we brought a newborn to see my grandmother Eric was with us.
My grandmother broke her hip the night before my oldest was born and therefore couldn’t come to see him. At 3 weeks of age he flew with us from Oklahoma to Florida to go see her. Eric came on that trip. Together we walked the streets of West Palm Beach feeling way underdressed and marveling at the prices in the high end boutiques. We ate at a restaurant by the beach and Eric wanted to bring the baby to the beach and I wouldn’t let him. I didn’t want my soft newborn’s skin marred by the sand. I would let him now. I would let him do almost anything. What’s the point of limiting such harmless experiences? What was I protecting him from? We need to gather all the experiences we can in this short life. I hate that I denied Eric the pleasure of introducing his nephew to the beach.
I’m sure this was not a big deal in Eric’s life. It gave him more ammunition to make fun of me with, and he used it well. And later, when the same nephew was about 18 months old, the only person he would walk in the sand with was Eric.
Had I known what little time he had left I would have made sure we saw him more, I wouldn’t have put off visiting him the way I did.
Still, he made an impression. Yesterday, out of the blue, my oldest told me that he missed Uncle Eric. He said nothing in particular made him think of Eric, but that Eric was the best uncle in the world. I told him that I think of Eric all the time too, and I agreed, there was no other uncle quite like Eric. No other brother either.
My grandmother broke her hip the night before my oldest was born and therefore couldn’t come to see him. At 3 weeks of age he flew with us from Oklahoma to Florida to go see her. Eric came on that trip. Together we walked the streets of West Palm Beach feeling way underdressed and marveling at the prices in the high end boutiques. We ate at a restaurant by the beach and Eric wanted to bring the baby to the beach and I wouldn’t let him. I didn’t want my soft newborn’s skin marred by the sand. I would let him now. I would let him do almost anything. What’s the point of limiting such harmless experiences? What was I protecting him from? We need to gather all the experiences we can in this short life. I hate that I denied Eric the pleasure of introducing his nephew to the beach.
I’m sure this was not a big deal in Eric’s life. It gave him more ammunition to make fun of me with, and he used it well. And later, when the same nephew was about 18 months old, the only person he would walk in the sand with was Eric.
Had I known what little time he had left I would have made sure we saw him more, I wouldn’t have put off visiting him the way I did.
Still, he made an impression. Yesterday, out of the blue, my oldest told me that he missed Uncle Eric. He said nothing in particular made him think of Eric, but that Eric was the best uncle in the world. I told him that I think of Eric all the time too, and I agreed, there was no other uncle quite like Eric. No other brother either.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
#319 Scrawny
I took the baby to the doctor yesterday. I was concerned that he wasn’t gaining enough weight. Born at 7 pounds and 3 ounces, he is the smallest of my kids. Before we left the hospital he had lost about 10 percent of his body weight which is borderline for needing supplemental formula in addition to breast milk. I thought this was pretty ironic as he took to breast feeding better than the other boys did. My oldest also lost a lot of weight in the hospital, so I wasn’t too worried.
We took him to the pediatrician the day after we brought him home and 4 days after that for weigh-ins and he was gaining appropriately so we didn’t have to supplement and I stopped worrying about it. But I did continue to notice his scrawny little chicken arms and legs.
We have a friend who happens to be our former nanny and a professional photographer; and she came and took pictures for us last weekend. She kept commenting on how little the baby was, and she shoots newborns fairly frequently. At one point I pulled out a picture of my oldest son from before he left the hospital and he had arm rolls. I started to get concerned.
The next day my husband and I decided to weigh the peanut on the food scale. We put a platter on the scale, a blanket over it so it wouldn’t be so cold and put the baby on that. I wish I had a picture but it was too precarious and he wasn’t wearing a diaper which meant we were all on pee alert, so photography didn’t happen. The food scale said he was almost 7 pounds. Not even back to birth weight and 3 weeks old!!
So yesterday I called the pediatrician and brought him in to be weighed. It turns out you shouldn’t weigh a newborn on a food scale. On the doctor’s scale he was 7 pounds, 5 ounces and they were happy with that. I was relieved.
Later I talked to my mom and told her about all of this. She told me that Eric had scrawny chicken legs as a baby; she used to notice it every time she changed his diaper.
I should have known.
We took him to the pediatrician the day after we brought him home and 4 days after that for weigh-ins and he was gaining appropriately so we didn’t have to supplement and I stopped worrying about it. But I did continue to notice his scrawny little chicken arms and legs.
We have a friend who happens to be our former nanny and a professional photographer; and she came and took pictures for us last weekend. She kept commenting on how little the baby was, and she shoots newborns fairly frequently. At one point I pulled out a picture of my oldest son from before he left the hospital and he had arm rolls. I started to get concerned.
The next day my husband and I decided to weigh the peanut on the food scale. We put a platter on the scale, a blanket over it so it wouldn’t be so cold and put the baby on that. I wish I had a picture but it was too precarious and he wasn’t wearing a diaper which meant we were all on pee alert, so photography didn’t happen. The food scale said he was almost 7 pounds. Not even back to birth weight and 3 weeks old!!
So yesterday I called the pediatrician and brought him in to be weighed. It turns out you shouldn’t weigh a newborn on a food scale. On the doctor’s scale he was 7 pounds, 5 ounces and they were happy with that. I was relieved.
Later I talked to my mom and told her about all of this. She told me that Eric had scrawny chicken legs as a baby; she used to notice it every time she changed his diaper.
I should have known.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
#318 25,000 Mornings
25,000 mornings. According to a commercial I saw for the state of Michigan this morning, that’s how many mornings the average American can expect to have. That works out to about 68 years. Eric had fewer than half of that amount.
The point of the commercial was to make sure that you spend some of your mornings doing something other than sitting in traffic on your way to work. I’m sure the Michigan tourist board would like you to be watching the sunrise or sleeping through it somewhere in Michigan.
I’ve written a lot over the past year about making sure I get the most out of the time I have and this just continues that theme. Not every morning can be about beauty and serenity though.
This morning was crazy. I was up at 4:30 to feed the baby and then made the older boys breakfast making sure to leave the cups of milk in the refrigerator since they wouldn’t be eating it until about 6:30. By the time they were eating it I was back asleep (thank you to my wonderful husband who got them up and through breakfast and got the oldest onto the school bus) until the next feeding at 7:30. After that I pumped, I won’t go into details but I’m trying to build up a supply of milk for when I go back to work, and got dressed so I could take the 4 year old to school. I came back home and had breakfast and then a good friend stopped by to meet the baby.
It was a hectic, non-stop kind of morning and there were times when I wondered how I’m going to keep this up. But I am so lucky. I have three beautiful boys. I have a husband who helps immensely. I have good friends.
Even though I’m exhausted and yes, I’d rather be sleeping through the night instead of in 2-3 hour chunks, I’d count this morning as a good one. I don’t regret using one of my 25,000 this way.
The point of the commercial was to make sure that you spend some of your mornings doing something other than sitting in traffic on your way to work. I’m sure the Michigan tourist board would like you to be watching the sunrise or sleeping through it somewhere in Michigan.
I’ve written a lot over the past year about making sure I get the most out of the time I have and this just continues that theme. Not every morning can be about beauty and serenity though.
This morning was crazy. I was up at 4:30 to feed the baby and then made the older boys breakfast making sure to leave the cups of milk in the refrigerator since they wouldn’t be eating it until about 6:30. By the time they were eating it I was back asleep (thank you to my wonderful husband who got them up and through breakfast and got the oldest onto the school bus) until the next feeding at 7:30. After that I pumped, I won’t go into details but I’m trying to build up a supply of milk for when I go back to work, and got dressed so I could take the 4 year old to school. I came back home and had breakfast and then a good friend stopped by to meet the baby.
It was a hectic, non-stop kind of morning and there were times when I wondered how I’m going to keep this up. But I am so lucky. I have three beautiful boys. I have a husband who helps immensely. I have good friends.
Even though I’m exhausted and yes, I’d rather be sleeping through the night instead of in 2-3 hour chunks, I’d count this morning as a good one. I don’t regret using one of my 25,000 this way.
Monday, March 14, 2011
#317 March Madness
Every year my husband runs a March Madness NCAA basketball pool. This was never a big deal in my house growing up; in fact you could say I was barely aware of the tournament until I started dating my husband. The first year I played his, I won. That was the last time I ever won. I think it helped that I knew absolutely nothing about the teams. I’m still not a basketball fan, but I know enough about the teams through my husband to throw off my picks.
My husband has a core group of home town and college friends who play every year, but all who are interested are always welcome. After we got married, my father and Eric started playing in the pool. My father has a little knowledge of college basketball, enough to make a serious attempt at his bracket. I know he enjoys watching some of the games and seeing how it all shakes out.
Eric had absolutely no interest in college basketball, and yet he still entered the pool. I think he did it just to participate. He clearly had no interest in winning. He was the comic relief in the pool and it got to the point where every year people would wait to see what method he would use to make his picks. The first year he did one side of the bracket alphabetically, and the other side reverse-alphabetically. Another year he had Florida Atlantic (who was the play-in team) winning the whole thing. One thing was sure, Eric’s picks would make you laugh—especially if he actually beat you as he did with my husband a couple of years ago.
This year my oldest son is old enough to understand what’s going on. We’re not going to let him enter the official pool, but we’re going to have a family pool among my husband, myself and the two older boys. The winner will get to pick the restaurant for a family dinner out. While my oldest may understand the tournament, he knows nothing about basketball. And the 4 year old is too young to truly understand, but too old to leave out of the game. We should have some humorous picks this year. I’m sure they won’t be Eric quality funny, but they’ll remind me of him just the same.
My husband has a core group of home town and college friends who play every year, but all who are interested are always welcome. After we got married, my father and Eric started playing in the pool. My father has a little knowledge of college basketball, enough to make a serious attempt at his bracket. I know he enjoys watching some of the games and seeing how it all shakes out.
Eric had absolutely no interest in college basketball, and yet he still entered the pool. I think he did it just to participate. He clearly had no interest in winning. He was the comic relief in the pool and it got to the point where every year people would wait to see what method he would use to make his picks. The first year he did one side of the bracket alphabetically, and the other side reverse-alphabetically. Another year he had Florida Atlantic (who was the play-in team) winning the whole thing. One thing was sure, Eric’s picks would make you laugh—especially if he actually beat you as he did with my husband a couple of years ago.
This year my oldest son is old enough to understand what’s going on. We’re not going to let him enter the official pool, but we’re going to have a family pool among my husband, myself and the two older boys. The winner will get to pick the restaurant for a family dinner out. While my oldest may understand the tournament, he knows nothing about basketball. And the 4 year old is too young to truly understand, but too old to leave out of the game. We should have some humorous picks this year. I’m sure they won’t be Eric quality funny, but they’ll remind me of him just the same.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
#316 Elephant Lamp
It seems like half of the blogs I write are about things that Eric has given me. I’m lucky to have had such a generous brother, and also lucky that I still have so many things around to remind me of him.
Several years ago, when we were still living in Oklahoma, Eric gave me a lamp with an elephant base. I collect elephants, so this was a pretty cool gift. It was a little glitzy for me, but I put it on my bedside table anyway. I don’t think I ever used it though. I don’t read in bed. I read, a lot, but on the couch and then I go to bed.
When we moved to North Carolina the lamp came and resumed its place on my nightstand. It continued its neglected life there.
Our house is configured with a downstairs master bedroom and 2 more huge bedrooms upstairs. I don’t want to be running up the stairs several times a night to feed a newborn, so he is living in our room for the time being. We have a co-sleeper attached to my side of the bed, a changing table, and multiple bins and baskets full of various baby stuff. The first time I tried to change the baby’s diaper in the middle of the night I realized it was too dark to see what I was trying to clean. I didn’t want to wake my husband by turning on the room light, so I turned on the bathroom light and used the trickle that made it from there to the changing table. The next day we moved the elephant lamp from my nightstand to my husband’s dresser which is next to the changing table. It’s perfect.
Thanks, Eric
Several years ago, when we were still living in Oklahoma, Eric gave me a lamp with an elephant base. I collect elephants, so this was a pretty cool gift. It was a little glitzy for me, but I put it on my bedside table anyway. I don’t think I ever used it though. I don’t read in bed. I read, a lot, but on the couch and then I go to bed.
When we moved to North Carolina the lamp came and resumed its place on my nightstand. It continued its neglected life there.
Our house is configured with a downstairs master bedroom and 2 more huge bedrooms upstairs. I don’t want to be running up the stairs several times a night to feed a newborn, so he is living in our room for the time being. We have a co-sleeper attached to my side of the bed, a changing table, and multiple bins and baskets full of various baby stuff. The first time I tried to change the baby’s diaper in the middle of the night I realized it was too dark to see what I was trying to clean. I didn’t want to wake my husband by turning on the room light, so I turned on the bathroom light and used the trickle that made it from there to the changing table. The next day we moved the elephant lamp from my nightstand to my husband’s dresser which is next to the changing table. It’s perfect.
Thanks, Eric
Saturday, March 12, 2011
#315 Self Soothing
When I was little I used to suck the three middle fingers on my left hand and play with my ear lobe with my right hand. My parents called it the operator position. Of course my kids will never understand why they called it that since they will have no idea what a phone operator was…
When my oldest was born he would never take a pacifier. Pretty early on he found the first two fingers of his left hand and while he was sucking those he would twirl his hair with his right hand. It had an amazing similarity to “the operator position” and just shows how powerful genetics can be. He has mostly grown out of doing this, but I’d bet that sometimes, late at night, those fingers find a way to his mouth.
My middle son was a pacifier baby and oh how I loved it. He went everywhere with a pacifier clipped to his clothes and all it took to soothe him was to place it in his mouth. It was also fairly easy to break him of the habit. You can take away a pacifier; it’s harder to take away fingers.
I would like my youngest son to be a pacifier baby. I am pushing it every chance I get. Sometimes he seems to like it and other times he doesn’t, but in all fairness he’s two weeks old. He doesn’t know what he wants. He does seem to trying really hard to be a thumb sucker though. Several times I’ve caught him either sucking on it or trying to get it into his mouth. Unfortunately his coordination stinks and he loses it about as soon as he finds it, but if he persists, he’ll get better.
Eric was a thumb sucker. While sucking his thumb he would hook his first finger around his nose and rub. He rubbed it so much he created a divot that my mom was afraid would become permanent, or at the very least infected. I know she tried band aids and everything else short of a straight jacket to get him to leave his nose alone. I can’t remember if she finally cured him of it or if he just grew out of thumb sucking, but there was no lasting damage done.
I’d be ok if this child sucks his thumb. I can live without the nose divot though.
When my oldest was born he would never take a pacifier. Pretty early on he found the first two fingers of his left hand and while he was sucking those he would twirl his hair with his right hand. It had an amazing similarity to “the operator position” and just shows how powerful genetics can be. He has mostly grown out of doing this, but I’d bet that sometimes, late at night, those fingers find a way to his mouth.
My middle son was a pacifier baby and oh how I loved it. He went everywhere with a pacifier clipped to his clothes and all it took to soothe him was to place it in his mouth. It was also fairly easy to break him of the habit. You can take away a pacifier; it’s harder to take away fingers.
I would like my youngest son to be a pacifier baby. I am pushing it every chance I get. Sometimes he seems to like it and other times he doesn’t, but in all fairness he’s two weeks old. He doesn’t know what he wants. He does seem to trying really hard to be a thumb sucker though. Several times I’ve caught him either sucking on it or trying to get it into his mouth. Unfortunately his coordination stinks and he loses it about as soon as he finds it, but if he persists, he’ll get better.
Eric was a thumb sucker. While sucking his thumb he would hook his first finger around his nose and rub. He rubbed it so much he created a divot that my mom was afraid would become permanent, or at the very least infected. I know she tried band aids and everything else short of a straight jacket to get him to leave his nose alone. I can’t remember if she finally cured him of it or if he just grew out of thumb sucking, but there was no lasting damage done.
I’d be ok if this child sucks his thumb. I can live without the nose divot though.
Friday, March 11, 2011
#314 Mixed Feelings
There are so many manifestations of loss. There is major loss, like that of Eric, which in some ways I will never recover from. Luckily, these are usually few in number.
Life, however, is full of minor losses. I am a little sad that I am not pregnant anymore and that I never will be again. I don’t miss the discomfort or the frequent urination or the waddling, but I miss feeling life move inside me and the anticipation of it all. However, I love holding my baby in my arms, and I don’t regret our decision not to have any more children. I don’t want to be pregnant again, I’m just a little sad that that phase of my life is over.
I found out recently that one of my best friends is moving out of the state. And not just to the next state over either. This is another loss I’m dealing with. Realistically, we live close to three hours apart now even though we’re in the same state, and we only see each other 3 or 4 times a year at best, but I like knowing she is here and that I can see her. Now we’ll need to fly to have our spa days and there won’t be any direct flights either. I’m happy for her because this is a good thing for her and her family, but it makes me sad. (Don’t feel bad if you’re reading T, you know I’ll always love you and your family and you know this is the right thing to do.)
I know the hormonal storm is also playing a big role in my sadness today. It’s hard to figure out if I’m appropriately sad or magnifying things. I’m not depressed, I don’t need an intervention, I’m just sad.
Time to stop focusing on the losses and move on to the gains. My oldest son is going to audition to play the piano for a volunteer appreciation breakfast at his school. It amazes me that he has the capability, but he’s good and I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t make it. My middle son had school pictures this week and insisted on wearing a blue button down shirt so he would look “handsome”. He never cared before. My littlest son slept five and a half hours between feedings last night and even though I had to hold him to make it happen, I’m grateful for the sleep. We’re all making gains and moving on even though it means we’re leaving other things behind.
I guess it’s just a mixed feelings kind of day.
Life, however, is full of minor losses. I am a little sad that I am not pregnant anymore and that I never will be again. I don’t miss the discomfort or the frequent urination or the waddling, but I miss feeling life move inside me and the anticipation of it all. However, I love holding my baby in my arms, and I don’t regret our decision not to have any more children. I don’t want to be pregnant again, I’m just a little sad that that phase of my life is over.
I found out recently that one of my best friends is moving out of the state. And not just to the next state over either. This is another loss I’m dealing with. Realistically, we live close to three hours apart now even though we’re in the same state, and we only see each other 3 or 4 times a year at best, but I like knowing she is here and that I can see her. Now we’ll need to fly to have our spa days and there won’t be any direct flights either. I’m happy for her because this is a good thing for her and her family, but it makes me sad. (Don’t feel bad if you’re reading T, you know I’ll always love you and your family and you know this is the right thing to do.)
I know the hormonal storm is also playing a big role in my sadness today. It’s hard to figure out if I’m appropriately sad or magnifying things. I’m not depressed, I don’t need an intervention, I’m just sad.
Time to stop focusing on the losses and move on to the gains. My oldest son is going to audition to play the piano for a volunteer appreciation breakfast at his school. It amazes me that he has the capability, but he’s good and I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t make it. My middle son had school pictures this week and insisted on wearing a blue button down shirt so he would look “handsome”. He never cared before. My littlest son slept five and a half hours between feedings last night and even though I had to hold him to make it happen, I’m grateful for the sleep. We’re all making gains and moving on even though it means we’re leaving other things behind.
I guess it’s just a mixed feelings kind of day.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
#313 Helping
I got this comment on yesterday’s blog.
Liz,
I just found your blog and I find it profound. I, too, lost my brother to a catastrophic brain bleed, suddenly and without warning. I, too, write about him in my blog.
I lost Dan almost exactly one year after you lost Eric. Your writing gives me hope.
Thank you.
Gael
Wow.
Gael, I am so sorry for your loss. I hate that it happened. I know what you are going through and I hope you have the support and strength you need. I’m glad that this blog is helping you.
I started this blog as a way to get my feelings out and try to process and maybe heal. I love the thought that watching my process can help others. So many of you have urged me to create a book from this blog and comments like this really make me think there would be some value there. I guess I need to start working on that proposal.
Gael, I’d love to read your blog, if you read this I hope you’ll leave me the address.
Liz,
I just found your blog and I find it profound. I, too, lost my brother to a catastrophic brain bleed, suddenly and without warning. I, too, write about him in my blog.
I lost Dan almost exactly one year after you lost Eric. Your writing gives me hope.
Thank you.
Gael
Wow.
Gael, I am so sorry for your loss. I hate that it happened. I know what you are going through and I hope you have the support and strength you need. I’m glad that this blog is helping you.
I started this blog as a way to get my feelings out and try to process and maybe heal. I love the thought that watching my process can help others. So many of you have urged me to create a book from this blog and comments like this really make me think there would be some value there. I guess I need to start working on that proposal.
Gael, I’d love to read your blog, if you read this I hope you’ll leave me the address.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
#312 Writer's Block
It’s 7:30 pm and I just realized I haven’t written a blog today. It’s amazing how quickly the days are passing and how little I’m getting done. I’m lucky if I get in a shower (I did today!). Part of that is because new babies just take up a lot of time. Part of that is I’m still moving slower as I recover from the c-section. Part of that is never wanting to put the baby down. I know how quickly this stage passes and it’s never going to happen for me again. I’m cherishing every moment—well, almost every moment, I still don’t like waking up every 2-3 hours for overnight feeds and that’s only if he falls asleep in between….
Still, you’d think I could find time to write a blog. After all, the little peanut is snoozing on me as I write this. I think the real issue is I haven’t been able to come up with a topic for today’s blog. I was hoping that if I just started typing something would come to me. Sometimes that works. Today, no such luck.
Well, I’m sure even Eric experienced writer’s block sometimes, be it with his science fiction novel or the book of poetry he wrote for Katie. I’ll try again tomorrow.
Still, you’d think I could find time to write a blog. After all, the little peanut is snoozing on me as I write this. I think the real issue is I haven’t been able to come up with a topic for today’s blog. I was hoping that if I just started typing something would come to me. Sometimes that works. Today, no such luck.
Well, I’m sure even Eric experienced writer’s block sometimes, be it with his science fiction novel or the book of poetry he wrote for Katie. I’ll try again tomorrow.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
#311 Thank You Notes
Lots of people send gifts for a new baby. This is wonderful and I always enjoy opening the packages and seeing the adorable tiny things inside. Less wonderful is writing all of the thank you notes. I don’t necessarily enjoy the process, but I think it’s really important. I know the people who get the thank you notes will appreciate them, and I want them to know how much it means that they thought of us.
I try to make each thank you note personalized and different. Not only is it boring for me to write the same note over and over again, but it’s more fun to get a thank you note that contains real information than a generic “Thank you for the gift”.
The first time I ever remember writing thank you notes was after my Bat Mitzvah. We had a huge party with lots of guests which meant lots of gifts and therefore lots of thank you notes. My mother asked me to write a certain number of notes everyday and I didn’t want to write any. I remember getting in trouble because I skipped out on my required notes for the day and went to a friend’s house instead. At the time, I didn’t understand the importance that my mom placed on the notes. I do now.
It seems that people are starting to teach kids to write thank you notes earlier now. When my sons go to birthday parties we get thank you notes from their friends. In turn, we also send them out after their birthday parties. Most kids’ party invitations now come with fill in the blank thank you notes. It’s not very personalized, but easy for kids and it teaches them the habit early.
One year, either for his birthday or Chanukah, Eric got my oldest son personalized stationery; an odd gift for a child who couldn’t read or write at the time. We made fun of Eric for the choice, but the stationery is really beautiful. I had forgotten all about it until I was looking for my stationery and opened the box. I think his is nicer than mine. After his next birthday his friends are going to get some really nice thank you notes. But I think we’ll save at least one as a reminder of Uncle Eric.
I try to make each thank you note personalized and different. Not only is it boring for me to write the same note over and over again, but it’s more fun to get a thank you note that contains real information than a generic “Thank you for the gift”.
The first time I ever remember writing thank you notes was after my Bat Mitzvah. We had a huge party with lots of guests which meant lots of gifts and therefore lots of thank you notes. My mother asked me to write a certain number of notes everyday and I didn’t want to write any. I remember getting in trouble because I skipped out on my required notes for the day and went to a friend’s house instead. At the time, I didn’t understand the importance that my mom placed on the notes. I do now.
It seems that people are starting to teach kids to write thank you notes earlier now. When my sons go to birthday parties we get thank you notes from their friends. In turn, we also send them out after their birthday parties. Most kids’ party invitations now come with fill in the blank thank you notes. It’s not very personalized, but easy for kids and it teaches them the habit early.
One year, either for his birthday or Chanukah, Eric got my oldest son personalized stationery; an odd gift for a child who couldn’t read or write at the time. We made fun of Eric for the choice, but the stationery is really beautiful. I had forgotten all about it until I was looking for my stationery and opened the box. I think his is nicer than mine. After his next birthday his friends are going to get some really nice thank you notes. But I think we’ll save at least one as a reminder of Uncle Eric.
Monday, March 7, 2011
#310 Baby Rolls
My mother tells a story of how unique Eric was right from the very start. When he was born he was in the newborn nursery and apparently rolled over. I’m suspicious that one nurse turned him over and then went off shift or something so no one else knew and everyone else just thought he turned over. My mother insists he actually rolled, and if he did, that is truly remarkable. I can remember urging my oldest to turn over and even getting on the floor to demonstrate it and he would just never do it. And that was at a few months of age, rolling as a newborn is impressive.
I put Drew down for tummy time for the first time today, and no he didn’t roll over. But he came close! He hated tummy time which wasn’t really surprising considering all of my kids have hated it. He fussed and screamed and lifted his head and his bottom and one leg went higher than the other and he came really close to flipping onto his back. I left him there as long as I could stand the screaming but eventually he tired out and I picked him up and calmed him down. I’m not expecting him to roll anytime soon, but we’ll try tummy time again and see what happens. Knowing my kids, he won’t come close again until he’s one.
I put Drew down for tummy time for the first time today, and no he didn’t roll over. But he came close! He hated tummy time which wasn’t really surprising considering all of my kids have hated it. He fussed and screamed and lifted his head and his bottom and one leg went higher than the other and he came really close to flipping onto his back. I left him there as long as I could stand the screaming but eventually he tired out and I picked him up and calmed him down. I’m not expecting him to roll anytime soon, but we’ll try tummy time again and see what happens. Knowing my kids, he won’t come close again until he’s one.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
#309 Holey Scarf
One year when Eric was living in London he sent me gorgeous white cashmere scarf for Chanukah. I love this scarf. It is stylish, goes with everything, and is really soft and warm. Somewhere along the way it developed a hole, but I’ve been wearing it anyway, it’s a small hole and really not visible unless you’re looking for it.
I haven’t worn the scarf all winter; I haven’t worn any scarf all winter. I’ve barely worn a winter coat. I get hot when I’m pregnant. Now that I am no longer pregnant, even our pretty moderate weather is feeling chilly to me. I was cold inside the house today, so I pulled out the scarf. There are now multiple holes. Most are teeny tiny, but some are not. There are multiple other places where you can see the fabric thinning and holes beginning to start. It looks a little bit like Swiss cheese. I have no idea why these holes are occurring, but I probably can’t wear the scarf out in public anymore.
I’m not getting any more gifts from Eric so I hate that one that I have is deteriorating. I’m still wearing it as I type this, but I’m going to have to get a new one for going outside. Next year.
I haven’t worn the scarf all winter; I haven’t worn any scarf all winter. I’ve barely worn a winter coat. I get hot when I’m pregnant. Now that I am no longer pregnant, even our pretty moderate weather is feeling chilly to me. I was cold inside the house today, so I pulled out the scarf. There are now multiple holes. Most are teeny tiny, but some are not. There are multiple other places where you can see the fabric thinning and holes beginning to start. It looks a little bit like Swiss cheese. I have no idea why these holes are occurring, but I probably can’t wear the scarf out in public anymore.
I’m not getting any more gifts from Eric so I hate that one that I have is deteriorating. I’m still wearing it as I type this, but I’m going to have to get a new one for going outside. Next year.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
#308 Unexpected Tears
I had an Eric moment this morning. We were out to breakfast and my seven year old started talking about the Harry Potter movie. He said there was a part in the beginning that he really liked when they were all first at Hogwarts and were eating a meal. He then went on to quote the bit of dialogue that made him laugh. It was really sweet. And I cried.
I am a hormonal mess right now. I don’t cry easily and can usually manage to choke the tears back when they threaten to come. I don’t think my kids knew I was crying, but I had to cover my face and turn my head for a moment until I could get it all under control.
Eric used to do that. He would watch his favorite movies over and over until (and even after) he had pretty much the entire thing memorized. I remember this especially with the Indiana Jones and Star Wars movies. I don’t know if that’s a boy thing, a kid thing or just an Eric thing, but it wasn’t anything I ever did. Viewing a movie once is usually enough for me, maybe twice if it’s really good.
Watching my son happily quote dialogue from a favorite movie just stopped me in my tracks. I’m starting to cry again just writing about it. I never would have thought that would affect me like that. And maybe it wouldn’t have if I hadn’t just had a baby a week ago and wasn’t a sea of hormones.
Either way, it’s amazing the things that bring the memories back. Sad as it makes me, I’m glad the memories are there and that they come back. I so wish Eric could see the people his nephews are turning into. Maybe somewhere he can.
I am a hormonal mess right now. I don’t cry easily and can usually manage to choke the tears back when they threaten to come. I don’t think my kids knew I was crying, but I had to cover my face and turn my head for a moment until I could get it all under control.
Eric used to do that. He would watch his favorite movies over and over until (and even after) he had pretty much the entire thing memorized. I remember this especially with the Indiana Jones and Star Wars movies. I don’t know if that’s a boy thing, a kid thing or just an Eric thing, but it wasn’t anything I ever did. Viewing a movie once is usually enough for me, maybe twice if it’s really good.
Watching my son happily quote dialogue from a favorite movie just stopped me in my tracks. I’m starting to cry again just writing about it. I never would have thought that would affect me like that. And maybe it wouldn’t have if I hadn’t just had a baby a week ago and wasn’t a sea of hormones.
Either way, it’s amazing the things that bring the memories back. Sad as it makes me, I’m glad the memories are there and that they come back. I so wish Eric could see the people his nephews are turning into. Maybe somewhere he can.
Friday, March 4, 2011
#307 Expectations
Throughout the life of this blog I’ve talked a lot about what a crazy, mischievous, creative and non-conformist person Eric was. He was like that his entire life, starting as an infant when he would throw his head back as the person who carried him would walk through a doorway, inevitably hitting the door jamb. This started a life of hard-headedness. He and my father would literally head wrestle each other, and Eric was also incredibly stubborn. I see a little of him in my middle child who insists he is right even when it is obvious that he is wrong. (“Mommy, the sun is down.” “No honey, it’s still light out” “No, it’s night, the sun is down. Etc…)
Although I loved Eric dearly, he was difficult to parent and I have expressed in this blog already that I hope my new baby doesn’t take after his uncle too closely. I don’t need to find out from strangers that he found his way out of the house and onto a busy street or to have him try and blow up a friend’s house with a gasoline volcano. Still I hope he’ll have some of his uncle’s traits, like his sense of humor and his sweet and generous nature. Too bad we don’t get to pick and choose.
Although we’ve named him after his uncle, I want Andrew to be his own person. I don’t want him to feel pressure to live up to his uncle. He is perfect as he is, however that turns out to be. It might already be too late for that message though. The other day, at less than a week old, my husband was carrying him through a doorway and he threw his head back. He didn’t hit the door jamb, but give him a little more time and strength and he might….
Uh oh.
Although I loved Eric dearly, he was difficult to parent and I have expressed in this blog already that I hope my new baby doesn’t take after his uncle too closely. I don’t need to find out from strangers that he found his way out of the house and onto a busy street or to have him try and blow up a friend’s house with a gasoline volcano. Still I hope he’ll have some of his uncle’s traits, like his sense of humor and his sweet and generous nature. Too bad we don’t get to pick and choose.
Although we’ve named him after his uncle, I want Andrew to be his own person. I don’t want him to feel pressure to live up to his uncle. He is perfect as he is, however that turns out to be. It might already be too late for that message though. The other day, at less than a week old, my husband was carrying him through a doorway and he threw his head back. He didn’t hit the door jamb, but give him a little more time and strength and he might….
Uh oh.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
#306 Bris
We had Andrew’s bris last night. It was wonderful. We had friends and family gathered in the house and the Rabbi came and formally bestowed both his English and Hebrew names. There was no cutting involved—that was done before we left the hospital. (for those of you who don’t know a traditional bris involves a naming ceremony as well as a circumcision)
I asked the Rabbi to say a few words about how Andrew was named after his uncle. An uncle he will never get to know. The Rabbi never knew Eric, and he asked what he did and all I could do was smile and say he did everything. I told him that Eric was funny. I didn’t really give him a lot to work with. He managed to create a very touching ceremony. I guess when you are a Rabbi you get used to making very little sound like a lot.
He talked about how we get different names throughout our lives, beginning with the ones given by our parents and God. He also talked about living up to the names we are given. He talked about honoring Eric in the giving of his names and in the living of his life.
There were several wet eyes in the room, including mine. Even Andrew started fussing.
We cried and we smiled and we remembered and we looked forward. There were a lot of emotions in the room. Luckily we had each other and Andrew to hold onto.
I asked the Rabbi to say a few words about how Andrew was named after his uncle. An uncle he will never get to know. The Rabbi never knew Eric, and he asked what he did and all I could do was smile and say he did everything. I told him that Eric was funny. I didn’t really give him a lot to work with. He managed to create a very touching ceremony. I guess when you are a Rabbi you get used to making very little sound like a lot.
He talked about how we get different names throughout our lives, beginning with the ones given by our parents and God. He also talked about living up to the names we are given. He talked about honoring Eric in the giving of his names and in the living of his life.
There were several wet eyes in the room, including mine. Even Andrew started fussing.
We cried and we smiled and we remembered and we looked forward. There were a lot of emotions in the room. Luckily we had each other and Andrew to hold onto.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
#305 I'm back
It’s been a week since I’ve written a blog. In some ways I’ve missed it, in other ways it’s been nice not to have the pressure of writing one everyday. I enjoy writing them, but it’s always nagging at me until it’s done for the day.
In that week I’ve spent a lot of time high on pain meds staring at an incredibly beautiful, incredibly tiny face. I’ve also had a house full of family and been very sleep deprived. And have I mentioned the pain meds?
Yesterday I had a moment where I reminded myself to call Eric and tell him something. That hasn’t happened in a long time. I don’t know if it’s the pain meds, the sleep deprivation or just me missing him, but his loss hit me all over again. We are having a bris for my new son tonight and Eric should be here. We will be honoring him with both the English and Hebrew names for my son, but I’d rather he be here.
And I know I’m not the only one.
In that week I’ve spent a lot of time high on pain meds staring at an incredibly beautiful, incredibly tiny face. I’ve also had a house full of family and been very sleep deprived. And have I mentioned the pain meds?
Yesterday I had a moment where I reminded myself to call Eric and tell him something. That hasn’t happened in a long time. I don’t know if it’s the pain meds, the sleep deprivation or just me missing him, but his loss hit me all over again. We are having a bris for my new son tonight and Eric should be here. We will be honoring him with both the English and Hebrew names for my son, but I’d rather he be here.
And I know I’m not the only one.
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