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.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
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.
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