Mamazen

Dear 2009

Dear 2009,

In a word? suck it. You have been the worst year ever. I'm glad you're done, cause you sucked. You started off with such potential, we had an FET planned for late January and I was for sure going to be pregnant and have a perfectly healthy baby by the end of you. Well, I got pregnant but then that didn't work out so well, did it? See? you suck. 

As devastating as that was, we had more frozen embryos, so we planned another FET and moved on. Spring arrived and along with planting a garden of tomatoes and zucchini, we thawed out two more freezer tots and hoped for the best. Oh no, you, 2009 decided to fuck that up too. They barely survived the thaw and obviously didn't decide to take up residence in my embryo eating uterus. Thanks for that, 2009, I really liked that part. 

So, summer began and we tried to figure out how to pay for a fresh IVF cycle. We scraped together money, were lent some, gifted some and magicked some out of thin air. Surely, it worked once before, it should work this time, right?  Surely, this time, this was what we needed, right? HA! again, you, 2009 threw a wrench in it. Not only did it not work, but apparently we not only have male factor infertility, we also have added some crappy ovaries to the mix. Not only did it not work, but we didn't even get any freezer tots out of the deal. $15K for nothing? Oh, I had a good cry, but that's not worth $15K now is it? I can rent Steel Magnolias for $3.50. 

At the same time all of this was happening, I started noticing my sweet girl was clearly not progressing like her peers. She had some language delays and some intense tantrums. We called in some experts to evaluate, and my deepest fears were made truth, Ruby is on the autism spectrum. So we then set about starting therapies, rearranging how we run the house and what we do/don't do in order to support her and help her learn to communicate. 

Double whammy, eh, 2009? No chance on a second child and the one I was granted has developmental delays and challenges. Yeah, you suck ass, I'd like a refund, please. 

The only good thing that came out of you was one great trip to Maui. My girl was happy, swimming in the ocean breathing in the fresh air and learning new words/phrases daily. My sad and broken husband went snorkeling and scuba diving and rediscovered his love of the ocean, and I found hope in my shattered heart. I ovulated while on the island and somewhere in my broken being I started to believe in miracles. 

Oh, you, 2009. You gave me that last, tiny shred of hope... and then you ripped it away. Happy fucking New Years. Happy full moon. Happy BLUE moon on New Years Eve. No... happy red moon you fucking shitcake of a year. 

With that, I let you go. Move on into the ethers, 2009 and let me be. Let me march forward into 2010 with a new hope, a new plan, a new anything. Let 2010 bring us our deepest wish, or at least peace with what is to be. Step aside 2009 and let something new and possibly less sucky take over. Please. 

Mr. Nygaard's Opus

Everyone has a teacher that they will never forget. For me, that teacher was Mr. Nygaard. He was our amazing band/auxiliary director who led our team of misfits to ultimate high school band geek glory. In our high school, people came for the football, but they stayed for the half time show no matter how bad the game was. We were GOOD, no scratch that, we were the BEST. My senior year, we were the best in the entire state of California. I joined the auxiliary units as a sophomore, and spent my junior and senior year in positions of leadership. Those were some of the best, most memorable and most poignant moments of my young life. 

Truthfully? Everything I need to know, I learned in Drill Team.

• Keep your eye on the prize especially when the prize keeps changing because you never know when or how you'll get there... but if you persevere, you'll get there.
  
• Practice makes perfect but it also makes you strong, confident and resilient.
  
• A team is only as strong as it's weakest member, so stand together.
  
• Say it with confidence and they will believe you.
  
• Keep smiling, even when you know you missed a step, because pride matters.
  
• You can tell you moved a crowd when you hit your final mark and you can't hear a thing over the roar of the crowd and the pounding of your heart.
  
• Admit when you're wrong, or you need help with something, it can be guaranteed someone else on your team can help. 
• Try not to be envious of other teams abilities, learn from them, see their strengths and make them yours. 
• Everyone has a creative piece to share, keep your eyes and ears open because you never know who will surprise you.

He was THE teacher who believed in each of his students, no matter what, even if you screwed up, he knew you had the potential to be better. 

He was the one teacher I worked hardest for Every. Single. Day. As much as I craved his respect and admiration, I also knew he'd respect and admire me no matter what. 

I'll never forget how he'd say to us, dripping sweat in the hot desert sun "Good. Do it again. One more time." And trust me, there are many times now in my adult life where I look in the mirror and steel myself to do it again, just one more time. 

I won't forget the brilliance that was his field show to "Only Time Will Tell" or how the crowd went wild at the trumpet solo. 

I will certainly never forget the night we won 20 trophies at Chino and he said proudly with glistening eyes that it was something we should NEVER forget because things like that didn't happen often. . 

To this day, the sound of a drum corps still makes me want to start marching. To this day, when I see a parade or a field show, a huge part of me wants to get up and be a part of it: to feel the cool evening air on your face, the silence of the crowd as you march into place to the sound of a solitary snare drum, to hear the whistle bring the anticipation to a crescendo, and to hear the band ignite with passion as the flags, drill team and dancers take flight. I'd love to feel my body fly across the damp grass, the sticky vaseline on my teeth (seriously, gross, but you don't stop smiling) as I proudly give all I've got to the stands of eager crowds. I'd love just ONE MORE TIME to be in the 3rd circle of many concentric rings as we all hit our mark and bow as the trumpet soloist takes over in Only Time Will Tell (yes, Asia, what can I say, it was the 80s), just one more time to feel my heart pounding in my head, my hands tingling with excitement, and my feet aching in their wretched white vinyl boots. 

Thank you, Mr. Robert Nygaard for giving us your all. Thank you for loving us more than you loved the trophies. Thank you for instilling in us a love of music, a respect for musicianship, and an understanding of teamwork. I don't know if you realize it, but we were your Opus.  Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. 

Healing waters

Maui. We're in Maui. It's warm, sunny, perfect and just what the doctor ordered. This year (as you may have gathered from earlier posts) has sucked ass, what better way to bid it adieu than from a sunny, salty locale?

I forget how healing and soothing the beach is for me. I lived at the beach in San Diego for 6 years during college and after and it's always been a place of solace for me. So, when Ryan mentioned in September that tickets to Maui were only $300 each, I told him to book it. It was hot on the heels of our failed IVF and Ruby's autism evaluation, and holy hell we needed it. 

  

Ruby is thriving here on the island, and if I could move to a warm beach, I would do it in an instant (I'd even forfeit my wool knits for it!). Swimming and water are therapy for her and I swear she's using more words and repeating more phrases. She's just so happy, and honestly, that's all that matters to me. 

Truthfully, I'm happy too. The moment I sunk my feet into the warm sand, I felt a part of my deeply injured soul start to heal. I felt the sharp pain of this year's injuries slip away, and hope for a new year creep in. I looked out at the man I love with my entire being and I was reminded that we are strong, we are connected, we SHALL overcome.

  

Night has fallen on the land of sun and surf, and I shall lie in the dark and listen to the wind in the palm trees that sounds like a breeze through 1000 paper cranes, and I will pray that someday my wish will be granted. 
 

The end

This is it! I did it, posting every day for a month. I even was able to keep it interesting for some of it, right? I'm not sure if I'll do it again, but I am thankful that NaBloPoMo has revived my interest in blogging and writing. 

For the longest time, I kept a very private, password only blog where I spilled my guts, spewed my brain and vomited most of my thoughts on a very regular basis. I occasionally would open it to the public then I'd get smacked down by something horrific like a coworker reading it and I'd lock it up again. This year I've taken a risk and posted many very personal and painful things on this very public blog... and for the most part, I feel good about it. 

The truth is, it's just about to get juicy, this life of mine. Whether or not we proceed with attempting to have another child, how Ruby's growth and progression change and shift... it's all just beginning. Do I take it private again? Do I hole myself up in my small world of supporters and say anything and everything that comes to mind? Or do I offer it up here, to you, dear reader and let you participate in the challenge that is 'being me'? 

Only time will tell. But I'm pretty sure y'all aren't going to get the same version I'd put on my private blog. That's just too many fucks for one internets.  ;)

With that, I bid BloMo adieu and will see you from the other side... 

Cause bitches, we're headed to Maui next week. Oooooh yeah. 

Menu Planning

A couple of years ago I started planning a menu before I did my weekly shopping. It saves time, money and effort during a busy week. It makes the grocery list specific, and I rarely end up impulse shopping. I love knowing that there are built in left over nights so that on the nights I work right up until dinnertime i don't have to worry about what to cook. I love planning at least one new or exciting thing each week, and knowing we had standbys that will guarantee happiness in the child. 

This weeks menu:

Sunday: Corn Chowder (ala Lee! I couldn't find the thyme, so I added a smidge of dill and it was delish!)

Monday: Pumpkin Pasta

Tuesday: Turkey leftovers - probably sauteed with veggies for burritos

Wednesday: Sweet Potato Quesadillas

Thursday: Perogies (probably some with bacon and some with carmelized onions)

Friday: leftovers... usually a fend for yourself evening.

What's on your menu this week?

The watcher

Ruby has always enjoyed looking out the window at the world around her. She'd run to the window to watch the "BIG TRUCK!" (trash truck) every monday when she heard it coming. When friends come or go she waves to them and shouts "bye! see you!" The other morning, Ryan was leaving for work while I took a shower, and when I got out I saw this: 

She'd been crying "daddy go bike! Daddy all gone!" He didn't see her in the window, and she was devastated that he had left! (yes, she's pants-less. it was not how I left her)

This weekend we were in Seattle visiting family for t-day. Ruby thought the picture windows were da-bomb. 

 

Soon soon we're headed to Maui, and she'll be able to see the ocean from the window. What will she think of that?
 

 

Today I:

1. woke up to a very happy child.
2. drank horrible hotel coffee and then followed it with a much better alternative.
3. made (and ate) waffles.
4. cast on for yet another christmas present.
5. made (and ate) mashed potatoes, Ryan's grandma's squash dish and sweet potato gnocchi.
6. wished I'd eaten pie, and started hating my particular set of food allergies even more now that the holidays are here.
7. played wii for the first time and sucked.
8. had a cocktail made by my newly 21 year old niece and her boyfriend.
9. fell asleep snuggling my perfect 3.5 yr old but woke up to brush my teeth
10. drank wine in a hotel bed while contemplating which book to pick up: the Toddler's Busy Book or Raising a Sensory Smart Child.

On giving thanks

It's Thanksgiving. I know the cultural significance of this day, and don't pretend it isn't there, but that's not what this post is about. This post is about giving thanks for what I have. I've spent a lot of time this fall thinking about what is not, what is wrong, and what is never to be. That's not to say I don't spend time each day being amazed and grateful for what we have in front of us, but there has been a lot of grieving this season (year). 

We are in Issaquah, WA where one of my sisters lives for our (almost complete - missing one sister's fam) family thanksgiving. We're not having our actual big dinner till tomorrow when my oldest (21!) niece, Kelcie and her boyfriend arrive. Tomorrow will be the day we sit around a big table laden with delicious food and give thanks for each other's support, and presence in our lives, we'll toast one another with good wine and look forward to the next big holiday (hand made christmas!).

I am thankful for many things. Too many to write about. Too many to share. Too many that are so entrenched in the fibers of my heart that putting it into words could render my heart useless. Those things, those very tender things are mine, and mine alone to savor and be grateful for and to cherish till my last breath on this earth. 

I'm thankful we have food on the table every day, and that I don't have to worry about having enough money to buy groceries. I'm thankful for the house we live in and the jobs we have to afford our modest lifestyle. I'm thankful for rewarding work that makes me proud to do what I do and honored to serve the people I work with. I'm thankful for my creative outlet that give my hands something to do that renders some string into clothing. 

These are the things we're all thankful for, the simple, obvious things. But what about the others? the bigger things? the deeper things?  

I am thankful for my mother. She has always been my greatest champion, my staunchest believer, my cheerleader. She supports me no matter what. This is the mother I want to be.

I am thankful for my father. He has always had words of wisdom that held me up in hard times. He gives great hugs, and believes in me. He is the father I wish for Ryan to learn from.

I am thankful for my sisters. We've spent years antagonizing each other, and yet as adults have utmost respect for one another. They each live their lives in extra-ordinary ways, and are so full of love for their work and families. These are the aunts I want for my child. 

I'm thankful for my friends from childhood. Hearts intertwined with mine from our most impressionable moments. Even when we drifted, or had differing views, we still loved, respected and supported each other. The fact that many of us suffered the same miserable fate of infertility gives me pause, both in a moment of horror (what was IN the water we drank growing up?) and laughter (at least we can joke about it, eh?). These are the people who helped me become who I am and who will help me become who I am going to be. These are the kinds of friends I wish for my child. 

I'm thankful for my friends from adulthood. In some ways, these friends are the parts of my heart I have been looking for all of my life, and then upon meeting I recognized the missing puzzle piece. Friends who challenge me to think outside of the box, support my tired heart and my over burdened body, and hold me close even when they are far away. Many I haven't actually met in person but are a support and breath of fresh air none the less, and are more real on a computer screen or a telephone than some that live in my same town. These are the kind of friends I wish for my child.

I'm thankful for my husband. 14 years ago we met, and 13 years ago we were married, young and  crazy and in love. We hardly knew each other, yet we knew everything we needed to know. I never expected we'd be challenged the way we have, and still come out loving, respecting, trusting that we were on the right path together. He is my rock, my power, my reason. He supports my choices, honors my feelings, trusts my heart. He is proud, strong and fierce in his love for me. This is the kind of love I wish for my child. 

I am thankful for my child. She is a dream made real, a wish come true, perfection with brown eyes. She challenges me to dig deep for patience, and creativity and rewards me with nothing but joy. She reminds me that we are all perfect in our imperfections, even myself, and that she, like me, is amazingly lovable just. as. she. is. She causes me to laugh deep within my heart on a daily basis, and to take each day moment to moment because some of those moments are breathtaking. She reminds me that Holland is an amazing place to be, even if though not Italy. She is the reason for everything I do, every choice I make and everything that is right about my life. 

She is the reason I still believe, I still have hope, and I still make wishes. 

I am thankful for many things. What are YOU thankful for this year? 

Today I:

1. Was awoken by a 3 yr old shouting "WAKE UP!"
2. Had two cups of coffee and vacuumed twice.
3. Worked for 3 short hours while my kid sang songs with a friend on the kitchen floor.
4. Made a grocery list, checked it twice, forgot it once, and thankfully hit a mostly empty grocery store.
5. Laughed while previously mentioned 3 yr old and her buddy chased a squirrel around a tree.
6. Marveled at a 15 month old exclaiming "TREE!"
7. Mitigated countless meltdowns.
8. Coaxed a dirt loving 3 yr old out of a mud puddle.
9. Ate leftovers for dinner
10. Made 5 million sweet potato gnocchi.
11. Knit 2 inches on my dad's christmas present.
12. Am determined to fall asleep before midnight. Better get to bed!

blomo day 24

Oy. I'm struggling to come up with something to blog about tonight. I don't have any cute new pictures to show you, and frankly I don't have anything I feel like saying. So... you get a recipe. 

This is my baked ziti recipe. Have a baby? get a ziti. Have surgery? get a ziti. Have a bad week? you just might get a ziti. It's fast, easy and delicious. 

I started making baked Ziti while we were watching the Sopranos, because Carmela was always making it when someone got whacked. What a better way to say "sorry my husband put your husband at the bottom of the hudson, but... here's some pasta with 14 layers of cheese." ( ps sorry about the cholesterol too)

You'll need:

1 lb rigatoni

2 jars of your fave marinara (I like trader joe's organic basil)

16 oz sour cream

6 oz sliced provalone

8 oz shredded mozzarella

parmesan cheese

Cook rigatoni as directed. Preheat oven to 350. Layer into 9x13 glass pan as follows:

half of the rigatoni, sliced provalone, sour cream, one jar of sauce. Rest of the pasta, mozzarella, other jar of sauce, parm to your taste. 

bake at 350 (covered with foil) for 40 min, then without for 10 to crisp the parm. 

Let rest for 15 min, eat and enjoy!

I've made it with home made sauce, but the joy of this meal is that it's fast and furious. 

Happy Whacking!