We Are Family

If you are reading this, chances are good that you are in my family. And I mean that in the wonderful figurative way of "we are as close as family" but I also mean it in the literal sense because I have an enormous family. Really, really enormous. Ever expanding.

As I mentioned before, my Uncle Dennis passed away. The funeral was Tuesday. The turnout was enormous. He was -- and is -- quite loved, which is a wonderful and remarkable thing. But the crowds were a bit overwhelming; they always are to me. I stood off to the side at the funeral home, talking to my step dad. I confided to him that there were just so many people there that I didn't even know. He pointed to a woman in front of me and said "I know that's your mom's Aunt Edna."

To which I replied "There's an Aunt Edna?"

Having such a large and complex and twisty family is what I am used to, but it is still a little strange. For example, my mom's cousin is married to my dad's niece. I've got weird stuff like that all over in my family. Not really too weird to me since it is what I know and since my parents aren't married. Well, they are, but not to each other. So in addition to my own labyrinth of a crazy family, I get step aunts and uncles (though the step part never really mattered so much to me). To me, they are just my aunts and uncles and cousins.

It is a small world. My BFF went to high school (or was it junior high?) with my cousin. Of course I know he won't remember the conversation we had about that or even my cousin's name unless I mention it again, but I find it rather amusing and part of his charm that he has such a lousy memory for details but is otherwise semi-brilliant.

But I digress. (Should I change the name of this blog to "I digress"?)

True story: when I was in high school (9th grade), I was approached by a senior who started talking to me and then she said "I think we're cousins." Twas news to me, but yep, we were. (Insert your own small town/inbreeding joke here.) But the problem isn't inbreeding. Inbreeding results in small families.

I sat next to my cousin Jenny and talked to her about the impossibility of raising a four-year-old (yay, Jude is not the only child who was ever difficult!). The conversation wrapped around to the lovely turnout of the funeral. Then we discussed our great aunts, Esther and Vi.

And, I pointed out, we also have a great aunt Edna.

To which she replied "There's an Aunt Edna?"

Movie Review: I have nothing. For the first time in a long time, I haven't had a chance to watch any movies. So, I am on the hunt for anything good.

Song of the Day: I'm taken with "Still Fighting It" by Ben Folds.

The Week in Review -- Last Week, That Is

As usual, this blog is behind. Just a week behind, though and not months as usual, so at least that is something!

What would lead a relatively normal (hey, I maintain that I am at least relatively normal) woman to spend her Friday night soaking in a hot bath, watching a DVD? Well, any number of reasons.

1. I never have. And we have a portable DVD player that never gets used. What better use than perched (safely!) on the edge of the pink bathtub where I could watch it?

2. The DVD was from the box set season 6 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The particular episode "Once More With Feeling" is one of my favorite of the whole series. So, I soaked and watched and attempted to relax.

3. It has been a challenging week. I have the headache to prove it. Monday, my boss and then my other boss decided to talk to one another and then to me about the influx of new files we have. Apparently the files than have been backed up for more than 6 months (and I have been there for 3) need to be caught up RIGHT NOW. This is my job. This stresses me a bit. This, as it turns out, was the least stressful part of my week.

The children and I are all (still!!) suffering from Fifth Disease (it's real -- go ahead and look it up). It has been kicking our booties this winter, particularly mine. The kids have had the rash and poor reddened cheeks for weeks and weeks and weeks and weeks. Not much to do for it, though, other than let it run its ridiculously long course.

Wednesday, we had a doctor's appointment for Jude. He has been having problems for some time and as I have never had a four year old before, I don't know if there is really something wrong or if it is Jude being difficult. He turns up the television constantly, swearing he cannot hear it. Yet, he seems to have no problem interrupting/hearing/maitaining a conversation. Still, we took him to the doctor because of our concerns.

Jude had a preliminary hearing test, a screening generally reserved for older kids and adults. He did not pass. He seemed to understand the test and did well performing it, but his hearing results showed below normal. So, our next step there will be with an ENT (otorhynolaryngologist) at the end of February.

Of course following this bit of info, I have had to rethink each "Jude, why don't you listen?" that I asked of him.

So we settled in back at home, absorbing this bit of news. Thursday evening my stepdad called me with the news that my Uncle Dennis (my mom's youngest brother) wasn't expected to make it through the evening. Two hours later, Bob called back to let me know that Dennis had passed away.

Uncle Dennis has been sick for some time with cancer so it wasn't entirely unexpected, but it was still difficult, particularly witnessing how difficult it was for my mom and my aunts and uncles to handle.

On Friday evening, we decided to have a quiet family dinner out, just the four of us. Jude ordered a pizza (a tiny, child size pizza) and Sully basically ate what everyone else was eating.

Jude picked at his pizza, barely eating and then asked for a snack. His request was, of course, denied. He then stated that he was full and didn't want any more food or a snack. Since he clearly didn't plan to eat any more, there wasn't much we could do.

So, we packed up and headed across the icy tundra of the parking lot. Jude was holding my hand and two steps into the (very crowded) parking lot, he began screaming at the top of his four-year-old lungs "I'm starving. It isn't fair. I'm so hungry." I was beyond mortified. When he got home, he got neither more food nor a snack. He claimed again he was full.

After the week that was, I longed to just soak in a hot bath. Since I finally finished and returned my boss's Vonnegut, I decided to watch a DVD in the bath instead. This is one lazy-step beyond watching a DVD in bed, which is the epitome of decadence to me.

Song of the Day: for a tough week, let's go with "Give Me Something to Sing About" from that Buffy episode. I love the sentiment; don't give me songs. Give me something to sing about.

Now I think I'm headed into the bathroom. The warm water is calling me. No DVDs though. How lazy do you think I am? Oh, seriously. It isn't like I spend all my time soaking in hot baths, just lounging around once the children are in bed and oh, don't look at me/the computer that way. Sigh. Fine. I'm going to watch "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia." Are you happy?

I need a laugh.

What Are You Reading?

So, if you were to ask me what I'm reading, I would likely lie. Nothing against you. I don't read books very often; I used to devour them before I had children. And I have the most wonderful discussions about books with a coworker. She and I have strikingly similar taste in books and are together lamenting the decline of readership in America, though, I did admit to her my own lack of book reading in the past few years.

If you were to ask, I would tell you with a little laugh that I had borrowed a book from my boss, a Kurt Vonnegut I hadn't read before. And that would be completely true. At my office Christmas party, I was a bit social and I drank a bit of wine (white wine. I can't be more specific than that; I lack sophistication in all matters of wine consumption). Beyond that, though, I spent an extensive amount of time browsing my boss's library, an eclectic collection of some damn good books.

On Monday after the party, I admitted to my boss that I had been browsing through his books and was interested in the Vonnegut books he had. We had a long talk about the party and about Vonnegut and he lent the book to me.

It is a delightful story and I fully intend to start reading the book any day now. But right now, my brain, addled by sickness and general sleeplessness, is incapable of processing anything more than "New Moon."

Last year, I admitted to having read "Twilight," fascinated by the sheer publishing power this book had. And I was sucked into the story, so much so that I had to also read "New Moon" and will eventually get around to the other two.

To some, the protagonist, Bella, is melodramatic; those people either have never been or cannot recall being teenage girls. Teenage girls can definitely be melodramatic, moody and absolutely certain that their love lives (or lack thereof) are the most important things in the world. Every time I turn a page and am tempted to criticize poor Bella, I recall my teenage crushes, recall each heartache visited upon my teenage self and I realize why the book is such a sensation. I am not in any way negating the essence of teenage girls or trying to generalize; I just recall my own experiences. I am alternately drawn to the story, and ashamed that I am drawn to it.

I am very close to the end of Moon and plan to start Vonnegut any day now. So, if you want to ask what I'm reading, just wait a few days and I'll be happy to discuss it with you.

It is with sadness that I announce that Dung! is now defunct. For some reason, the username and password no longer work and so there will be no further updates. I will miss being the Queen of the dungheap, but I am sure as the year progresses, a new blog will emerge.

Late Last Night

Just a quick post as I am eager to get to sleep and see if my coughing of the past 20 (!) days will finally cease when I lie down.

Last night was a rather comedy of errors around here, the sort of strange series of pratfalls that would almost be funny if they didn't involve people I love so fiercely.

We were eating dinner and Jude, who has his mom's natural grace (okay, total lack thereof) somehow managed to knock his tray (yep, dinner tray) over, falling forward onto the hardwood floor and hitting his face. We rushed into the bathroom to check for loose teeth and bloody anything and he was crying, saying his chin hurt. But crying in that hysterical way that makes my heart nearly stop each time I hear it. He cried so hard that he began throwing up. Jeff was helping him while I hovered and neither of us saw Sully come into the bathroom.

Sully wandered in to see what was happening and managed to trip over Jeff's legs and bang his head hard on the pink bathub. Jeff scooped up Sully so I could take over Jude and his vomiting and Sully did the awful thing he hasn't done in a long time: he stopped breathing.

I could hear Jeff saying "Breathe, damn it, breathe" and my heart stopped again when I looked out into the hallway and saw Sully fall limp in Jeff's arms. I know I mentioned it before but I cannot possible articulate how awful it is to behold. And he didn't seem to want to start breathing again.

So I stopped my Jude puke duties and rushed to Sullivan who finally decided to start breathing. He was purple and listless, his eyes dazed and there was a huge knot on his forehead.

Today, both are back to normal.

Or at least what passes for normal around here.

Song of the Day: "I Want To Be Sedated" by The Ramones. Because sometimes I really do. Oh, and I like to sing along to it.

It's Never Too Late

I am tardy. Quite tardy in updating this blog, but I plan to rectify that, as I have missed this forum in which to prattle on and on about this and that. Last year (!) I had an epiphany regarding Jude that was rather profound and which has slightly altered my relationship with him.

Jude is four. A very frustrating four. I have learned over the course of many, many months that there is apparently no statement I can make to Jude to which "Why?" is not an appropriate response.

"Jude, it is dinner time." "Why?"

"Jude, we need to pick up this mess." "Why?"

"Jude, we're going to grandma's and then to papa's house." "Why?"

Well, you get the idea.

Jude is constantly running late, a procrastinator. Frustrating with his general inquisitiveness because it extends to EVERYTHING. He is sensitive, cries when his feelings are hurt and is physically incapable of not making a mess. In short . . .

Jude is just like me.

No, that's not fair. He is his own person to be certain. But each bad quality I see in myself is magnified when I look at Jude. And suddenly I remember what it was like to be a kid and cry because my feelings were hurt and being told that I needed to "toughen up." Well, thirty years later and I am still not tough.

But I get so frustrated with Jude. I don't know if this is typical for parents with four-year-olds, but I can't believe mine is such a special case in terms of frustration.



I've lost my temper with him and when I do, I recall others losing their tempers with me. I think of the idea of a mother with infinite patience, a calm tone and healing hands and that angelic creature is completely not me. I'm human, frustratingly so. But I want to be a good parent and I work very hard at it.

Sully, by contrast, is quite smily. He is walking all the time, into everything and chatters a good deal. This pre-speech sounds like a bunch of squeaks and noises of happiness and I love it. In temperament, we are not similar, but I love him very much. He is a calming presence in our chaotic home. I've grown accustomed to the chaos, though.



I find it is most difficult for me to write in quiet anymore. I need the sounds of someone pounding on the Bob the Builder toolset. I need to hear the sounds of lego castles being built and destroyed.

Most of all, I need to hear the sound of tiny feet on hard wood floors, exploring, laughing and crying. Here.

Movie Review of a Movie You've Already Seen or Never Plan to See: Elf. I realize it is after Christmas, but Jude has just discovered Elf and he has declared it to be "a funny movie." I agree; Will Ferrell is very funny. It is funny and touching and enjoyable.

Song of the Day: "If You're Not the One" from Daniel Bedingfield.

Like Common People

So people who live with me know that recently I have become obsessed with the song "Common People" by Pulp (and when I say "recently" I mean within the last few weeks, since I have gotten behind on my blogging again. Really, really behind yet again. I'm working on it, though). I decided to examine my life to see if I, indeed, live like common people. I seem common enough. So I have examine bits and pieces of my life over the last couple of weeks to see if I indeed live like "common people." So, let's examine this, shall we?

First thing in the morning I am greeted by sounds coming from the boys' bedroom. I open the door and the lamp is on and both boys are in the crib. Jude has grabbed a book from the dresser and is lying down on his stomach, telling me he is reading. Sully is laughing and trying to crawl on top of Jude. Mornings are always hectic, but at least they (sometimes) start with a smile.

Jeff helps me wrangle the boys as I shower and get dressed and then off to day care. Jude sings a song from the back seat. The whole song is "I like to burp. I like to burp. It is fun. I like to burp." He laughs and then interrupts himself to comment on the traffic on the road in front of us. Jude is most helpful in pointing out red lights and such and this particular morning, he was obsessed with a large pharmacy delivery truck in front of us. "Why is that truck there?" he asked. "It is in my way."

Sully walks away from me at daycare. He is walking now and it is wonderful to see his independence but there is always a slight sadness at this, knowing that he isn't a baby any longer. He toddles over to his favorite shelf of toys and ignores me as I kiss Jude goodbye and he, too, runs off to play.

I arrive at work. I learn something new at work every day. It is a busy, busy, busy (did I mention busy?) office, but as always I am overwhelmed to be in such a beautiful building. It has heating issues and creaky stairs, but the gorgeous hardwood floors more than make up for it. I learn something new every day. Today's lesson is: holy crap, there is another bathroom back by my office that I had never knew was there. And I have been here over a month! Of course the heat doesn't seem to flow into said bathroom (which I always thought was a closet!) but still. It is good to know the option is there if needed. I hope that I never grow accustomed to the beauty in this office. I know getting jaded is inevitable; I just want to postpone it for as long as possible.

After work, a quick jog to the post office. I try to go three or four days a week to take mail for work and mingle with other common people.

Home again, home again. I usually arrive home just before the bright smiling faces of Jeff and the boys. Jude runs into the house first with a loud "Mom!" He has been making Thanksgiving Day projects at daycare and when he brings one home, it is generally with a flourish. He will hide his hands behind his back and say "I don't have nothing." Usually, I don't believe him. Then he will show me the "nothing" and then finally I can have the hugs and kisses that I have been craving. Sully isn't quite as easy. You'd think he would be. He's smaller. Easier to catch. But now he fusses if I try to kiss and hug him when he wants to be down and walking and playing. I am an interruption to his schedule.

There are phone calls to return and if I am lucky, Jude won't notice I am on the phone. If he does, then it is harder making payment arrangements with the hospital or whatever I happen to be doing. This is what common people do, I think. Common people need to work and when they are out of work for a few months, things pile up. But common people cope as best they can, using whatever rudimentary talents they possess to increase cash flow. Or, maybe that is just me.

Dinner time is always fun. Sully will now eat whatever Jeff and I are eating. Jude still will not. He will, however, reluctantly eat one of the four dinners we have on rotation for him.

There is an inevitable post dinner clash with Jude over the television. We (Jeff and I, united) argue with him that he watches too much television. Then we stand firm on the issue, not giving in. Jude argues his points with all of the determination and skill a four-year-old can muster. He still loses.

After dinner there is play time. Generally this involves the boys trying to beat up on Jeff. One night, post-Jude-clash, I have an epiphany so profound that I don't think I will ever see Jude the same way again (more on this in my next, eventual post). Then off to bathe Sullivan. Sully had developed a charming habit of crying each time he had to take a bath. Somehow I managed to disarm him and trick him into playing and laughing instead. I will take credit for this, though it is also likely that Jude and his smiling face had something to do with it.

Sully's bath and bottle. Then off to bed. He shares a room with Jude. Do common people have a two bedroom house? Because we do.

Then it is Jude's bath, evening snack and story. Jude and Sully have an extensive little library, yet we seem to read the same 10 or so books over and over.

Once Jude is in bed, my mind starts focusing on all the things I need to do tomorrow. And thus the cycle begins again.

I still haven't decided whether we are common people, but I still really dig the song.

Another Thursday Night

So I have no clue what "normal" couples talk about, but Jeff and I talk about topics like these. Who are the five celebrities that we would allow each other to sleep with should the chance ever present iteself? My list expands and evolves through the year as I am exposed to new and tasty treats and it is always a challenge to narrow said list to five. So, without further ado (I always ado way too much), here is the five as of Friday (yeah, I know the title says Thursday. I am tardy.):

1. Jake Gyllenhaal. A hold-over from last year. Still so adorable and buff and vulnerable and sweet. A wicked combination of sweetness and darkness that just begs for a bit of corruption.

2. Chase Crawford. A choice based solely on looks. So sue me. This year's Tom Welling. For those of you (everyone who reads my blog) who don't watch "Gossip Girl", he is the tasty nugget that I refer to as "the really ridiculously good looking one" so that Jeff can reply "Which one is that again?"

3. Seth Green. A choice based solely on a wicked sense of humor he seems to possess, as I think that he would be incredibly fun and . . . experimental. 'Nough said.

4. David Duchovny. It feels opportunistic now, but witness the following excerpt from a conversation between Jeff and me while he was watching "The X-Files" a couple of months ago. Me: "I would so sleep with David Duchovny." Jeff: "Really?" Me: "Oh yes. He is smart-hot (one of the best kinds of hot) and underneath that there is something more going on. That man has a huge kinky side. I can tell by looking at him." Now I look like a freakin' genius because not two weeks after this conversation, Duchovny went into treatment for "sex addiction." Okay, I feel a bit bad about this inclusion during a painful moment in his personal history, but I would be looking to have an experience, not start a relationship. I think he would definitely be an experience.

5. Sendhil Ramamurthy. The lovely Mohinder Suresh of "Heroes." Just don't expect me to call out his name during coitus.

Honorable mention: Zachary Quinto. Oddly drawn to him, but he barely misses the list because of the rumor that he is gay. I hate to waste a spot on someone who wouldn't want to do it with me. If he isn't gay, though, I'll have to reorganize.

I know it is a sad venture to have to leave celebrities off of the list, but there is only so much room. If you are a celebrity and would like consideration for next year's list, please submit an application and photograph to this blog. Thank you.

Oh, and, as always, thanks for reading, Mom.