Crazy

I cried in the car at this song. Ellie is 18 months old, will the pregnancy hormones ever stop? It's as if my father talks through the damn country radio station. Work hard. Do your best. Fail and try all over again. Don't lie. And love the ones you love.

They called them crazy when they started out
Said seventeen's too young to know what loves about
They've been together fifty-eight years now
That’s crazy

He brought home sixty-seven bucks a week
He bought a little 2 bedroom house on Maple Street
Where she blessed him with six more mouths to feed
Yea that’s crazy

Just ask him how he did it; he'll say pull up a seat
It'll only take a minute, to tell you everything
Be a best friend, tell the truth, and overuse I Love You
Go to work, do your best, don't outsmart your common sense
Never let your prayin' knees get lazy
And love like crazy

Forever is tomorrow is today

Tomorrow morning at 6:15 I am going to pick up my mother and we are going to arrive here to do an hour of strength training. Lifting weights and walking lunges, one minute planks and reps of hammer curls are in our future. Twice a week. First thing in the morning. Mother and daughter working our bodies for tomorrow for today. For ourselves, for Ellie. Lifting weight to lose the weight.

Stop waiting. What's your forever that is tomorrow that is today?

Street Corner Symphony

It's been a rainy weekend here in Glens Falls and today I saw a discarded, mangled umbrella sticking out of a trash can on a downtown street corner. I don't see that in Glens Falls too much, but in Manhattan it's a common hilarious site when the weather turns.

I've been thinking a lot about my time in New York City lately and how proud I am of myself for making use of the years I spent there. I landed a most perfect job right out of college working here as a Junior Designer and moved up to Graphic Designer as I lost my Junior status. I worked in London for two weeks, I made amazingly great friends that became family. Some of them I have lost touch with because of miscommunications and hurt feelings, I think of them often and regret the situations that shook our foundation. That aside, the job and the friends at the time were nothing short of perfect. I always longed for that someone to be by my side, with my heart on my sleeve I romanticized and wooed and wanted but nothing ever quite worked out in that department. I wish I could have been wise enough to just enjoy the time and not be wanting this or that. However still I am proud of my actions to go for those Manhattan-working-woman dreams. While I loved my job at Nature, I always wanted to try something else, so I put myself out there and I interviewed at my dream store. Seriously, I sat down with their Marketing Director and we looked through my portfolio (which was chock full of medical publishing pieces) and he said, "well, this is great, but you're not showing me anything related to textiles, or home furnishing. Do you know what we do here?" Ouch. I was 23, I was young, I didn't tailor my book to the industry. @#%! Lesson learned. I also should have followed up with an industry specific thank you note, or something to get myself back in the door. I didn't.

Then I dropped of my book here, here, and here. Talk about quintessential New York City. When I followed up they had either already hired or the position was no longer going to be filled.

I interviewed here too. But as I learned through the sit-down interview, it was more of an on campus copy center job than a design job. Still not a bad place to interview. I could have gotten a free masters degree if I was up for it.

And finally in the spring of 2001 I interviewed here. Twice. I was offered the job. I hesitated, I countered, they countered. I hesitated more and then I turned it down. I would have missed my Nature family, the job was in the Bronx, I was living in Queens, it meant that I'd never be in Manhattan. Or I'd have to move to the Bronx and that scared me. It seemed lonely. And yet I always wondered what really would have happened, would I have loved it, would I still be there, or would it have been a big mistake? In the end everything has clearly worked out perfectly, I spent many years here and I am now happily right where I want to be. And thankfully for me, there is a mangled token of my Manhattan days on a street corner in my hometown.

March Un-Madness Musings

Call it spring fever or maybe it's just the feeling of finally being back on our feet after the whirlwind of 2 of under 2, but we think we've found our footing after all this time. Ellie sleeps through the night, no one has thrown up in weeks (knocking on wood right now), the ear infections while still on the surface are fading into the distance (again with the knocking on the wood), and things at home and work feel as if everything is right with the world.

Our basement is in a better organized state with a distinct kid-area set up so that they can play while we work out, the car is finally back in the garage after months of it being a catch-all for old and broken appliances, three different strollers and the multiple pile-up of empty diaper boxes. Life feels organized and just as it should be.

The best part is that when we say "I love you" to Luke his response is :"I wuv you too mawm" and sometimes even: "I wuv you too much mawm." And sweet Ellie is full of kisses and laughs as she strolls about the house with her baby.

We are lucky, blessed and realize that even though this past year has been hard, we will only ever remember all the wonderful moments. John rocked Ellie to sleep Friday night (this is almost always my "job") and I think she should know that as he rocked and kissed her forehead he looked at me, choked up and said, "this has been so hard, but in 20 years we'll want nothing more than to have this time back. We're going to miss this so much."

Everyone from veteran parents to those without kids keep telling me that it's going to get easier. Although the parents usually kind of laugh and say it gets easier in some ways but the problems get bigger. So as the tedious/maddening work lessens and the problems grow, we're ready to face this next stage of parenthood and married life.

I think it's perfectly fitting that spring is on the horizon just as we're welcoming a renewal of spirit and life in our home.

Never Gonna Be Alone

So I am not a Nickelback fan, their music is just not really my thing, but they have a song that if it weren't for the video I wouldn't even give it a second glance. We recently gave up cable because we just weren't watching television all that much and Luke has been getting DVDs from the library and watching them more than anything. However, a few weeks ago before we cancelled the luxury of HGTV and Comedy Central there were mornings where John would turn the channel to MTV or VH1 to get me out of bed. Normally it was some annoying rap or rock song that had my ears bleeding as I straggled about, not ready to face the immediate needs of everyone else. This certain morning though his little trick had us both just laying there, curious to find out who the man was in the video and by the end we were both in tears.

Tears for each other. Tears for the hope that Luke and Ellie never feel the loss that we feel. Tears for what would have been.

I want the two of us to be the ones standing behind our children for every milestone for at least the next 50 years. Please God make that happen.

Gentle woman, quiet light

Forty years ago today, February 27, my parents were married at St. Mary's church in Hudson Falls. It apparently snowed heavily that day, just like today, and there is a story about my father's mother, my Grandma Center slipping and falling under the car as she went to get in. The talk of their wedding day was always met with laughter and looking at the pictures it seemed to be a roaring good time had by everyone.

This morning at 5:10am my other grandmother, my Grandma LaSarso passed away. She was 90 years old and fittingly enough was carried out of her house in the early dawn of a raging blizzard. My brother and I went to see her last night, we kissed her forehead and held her swollen hand. I said a Hail Mary silently to myself as I noticed the rosary in her other hand. She breathed so hard, she never woke up, but I think she knew we were standing by. I am so relieved to know that she has been released from the grip of illness and old age that has had hold of her for more than a year. What brought me to tears though, is the unconditional love and loyalty that my mother and uncle showed to her all along. She had wishes and demands and they made sure to keep them, to do so as best they could so that she could live out her remaining time as she hoped to. They have worked themselves into the ground to do what they knew to be the right thing. The character that they have shown is something that I can only hope to carry with me. I grew up with the sentiment that you always do the right thing even if it means taking the more difficult path. I am so proud of my family for the effort they extend and the faith they hold onto.

My grandmother was a German immigrant. She came here on a boat when she was 9 years old, landing in Albany before moving up to Hudson Falls. As a little girl I was fascinated by the stories she told of arriving in New York City and how when her mother saw the tenements of Albany she said: "Das is America?" Her father was an engineer and tried to patent the iron and coffee maker, but unfortunately they already had been done. She married my grandfather, Veto LaSarso, an Italian from Fort Edward. She raised her brother's son along with her own two children and became the consummate homemaker until later in life when she drove a bus for handicapped children. I spent a lot of time with her growing up, taking walks and making clothes for my dolls. I danced with her at my wedding in place of my father and I am grateful that she was here to hold my babies. As we celebrate her ninety years of life I will take with me the history that she brought to our family, the faith that she held so dear and the strength of a tough German woman who wouldn't let anything stop her strong willed spirit.

This weekend however, is not just my parent's anniversary, but tomorrow is my uncle's birthday as well as my grandfather's. And then Tuesday, March 2 marks seven years since the sudden death of my father. I can only imagine the reunion that is happening right now.

Gentle woman, quiet light, morning star
so strong and bright,
gentle mother peaceful dove
teach us wisdom; teach us love

It Happens

Missed my alarm clock ringing
Woke up, telephone screaming
Boss man singing his same old song
Rolled in late about an hour
no cup of coffee, no shower
Walk of shame with two different shoes on

Now it's poor me, why me, oh me, boring
The same old worn out, blah, blah story
There's no good explanation for it at all

Ain't no rhyme or reason
No complicated meaning
Ain't no need to over-think it
Let go, laughing
Life don't go quite like you planned it
We try so hard to understand it
The irrefutable, indisputable fact is
It happens

Alright so I know I can't say "I'm back" by posting a few song lyrics and thinking that will pass muster. It won't. Life has happened, sick kids, work, home, married life, family time, facebook (seriously, that is sad but true), the holidays. It's just happened. No excuse makes sense, so I'm owning it. It's torn me away from slowing down, for relishing sweet moments and precious time. Memories that are burned in my brain sure to be figments down the road of "remember whens" and "did we ever..." will remain there unless I take that step back and for my kids and my family it's time to do so.

I've laid in bed compiling perfect posts in my head of how Ellie blows us kisses goodnight, and how Luke tells me that cargo planes carry cars. I mean really, what else would they carry? Sea planes carry water and jet planes, well they carry fast cars. You can't make this stuff up.

So as I rush and run from home to sitter, to work back to the sitter and back home I am thankful that all that rushing is within less than a square mile. That I get to do what I love here in this town and that what I do makes a difference, even if it's only through the publics subconscious. We have one car and it works, we live within our means and our means justify all that we make it. 2009 was not without bumps, it was a hard year of transition on many levels but through all of that transition has come growth.

And so tonight as I drove home from Saratoga with a new hair cut, a new attitude, and fresh perspectives I sang this out loud. It felt good and in that moment I forgave myself for the months of guilt I carried by not telling Luke and Ellie's stories.

Let go laughing!

edited to add that the "bossman screaming" in my lyric version is Luke and Ellie collectively, not the other boss. Just sayin'.