Day 34

They used to not really like each other.  It was tough for Mud and me to watch.  I think they were too much alike in a lot of ways.  But too different too.

We used to have to watch a lot of really bad plays because they found that to be where they could meet half way.  Always a really bad play instead of arguing and bitterness.  I would take it any day.

And now?  Now we have duets with flute and trombone.  And these performances are magic in their similarities and differences.  Magic for Mud and me. 

Day 33

Hockey hockey hockey with girls
who keep me from getting old. 
Out of my league, but
keeping up none-the-less.
You will keep my heart healthy
and my legs sore.

Day 32

It's been a gradual ascent towards self love for me.  I didn't come out of the womb loving myself.  But I feel like I'm almost to the top- all thanks to these amazing women who lifted me up on Friday night like I had just scored the game winning goal.  I felt more loved and appreciated on this night than I've ever felt in my life.  40 years in the making.  I don't even know how to begin to say thank you for the song, the words, the joy, the slideshow, the strength you give me.  It's incredible.   I'll be talking about this evening for the rest of my life and I will cry every time.  Tears of joy.

Thanks you bitches.

Day 31

Spent the day collecting rocks for the pizza oven.  Can't wait to have you over for beer and pizza.  Let's celebrate this thing called life.

Day 30

 This is Uncle Stinky Jon.  He's not related to Uncle Dirty Steve.  But they know each other. 

 He has a new toy.   And he brought it over so that Paul Bunyan and he could play with it.

It's a brand new portable saw mill and it took the two of them, let's say, about 6 hours to figure out how to use it.  But after they did the dreams started pouring out of them like sap from a tapped Maple.  They've got ideas for projects that will take them into their 80's.  It's incredible what a few boards of wood will do to the psyche. 

Day 29

 The boys had their Spring choral concert on Monday.

 I made them take tubs and comb their hair and scrub behind their...parts.

They wouldn't let me take a picture of them standing.  And so they're, well, jumping.

Auggie didn't even want to go.  He expressed this to me a few days prior.  I told him he had to tell his music teacher that he wasn't going to go and why.  "But Mom," he complained, "I can't tell her I think her songs are all too babyish."
     "Well, I don't really know what else to tell you.  I'm not going to let you ditch her.  If you don't want to do it you don't have to.  You just have to tell her why." 
     "Fine.  I'll go."
     "Excellent choice."

 Well, in our attempts to get to the school on time I didn't grab my telephoto lens.  Hence my pictures are too bad to share.

However, I do think (for the sake of remembering) that I'd like to blow them up for you (just a little) despite their blurriness.

Because I think my son Auggie would want it stated for the record for all of you to know that....

he did not sing ONE word of those baby songs.  So there.

Day 28

Today I celebrate the heroes that ran towards the bomb instead of away.

Day 27

Sunday it spit stuff out of the sky all day.  Hard chunks of something.  We walked anyway because she wasn't going to let me get away with not.  And that's okay because I don't like giving up the chance to pick up smooth stones for my pockets.  And I don't like missing the chance to see her run through the forest like a deer being hunted.  She disappears for awhile and then reappears huffing and puffing, foaming at the mouth.  I know some day she'll be old and not leap over logs or sniff a trail like she does now.  She sometimes stops with me when I look at ramps poking through the dead leaves.  But generally she is always on the move, running three or four times the amount I walk.  She barks at me if we haven't gone for a walk yet.  She knows she deserves one a day.  She knows I deserve one too.

Day 26

So I play hockey with some people and one of those people is making a dream come true and one of those people's husband is making a dream come true.  And Saturday I got to sit in the basement of those peoples to try their beer for FREE and soon you'll be able to too.  And while I sat there drinking a dream come true beer, I talked about my old dreams not coming true and how I didn't know what my new dreams were or how to make them come true.  And while I sat in those people's basement drinking dreams and talking dreams, I watched an old high school friend's husband's dream NOT come true.  Sorry Rand Pecknold that your dream didn't come true- because I know how that feels (three times over I know how NOT winning a Final Four National Championship feels).  But that day, in those people's basement, I celebrated you coming AWFULLY close and them tasting the victory of beer and me (according to my horoscope) "rejoicing in the blessing of not knowing".  

Day 25

I had a little slice of this.  Love.

Day 24

 Uhmm, so yeah.  I've been recovering from staying up too late to watch this.

So, uhm yeah.  Today I'm celebrating him.









It's a really really good movie (not) but if you can't sleep it won't help you.  

Day 23

My hockey buddy Cindy took me on the slow boat home from hockey last night to help save the salamanders. We drove 10 miles an hour, getting out every few yards to help a peeper, wood frog, or spotted salamander cross the road from the woods to the vernal pool in which they're programmed to leave sperm and eggs to meet up.  It takes a perfect storm for the migration to occur- the right temperature and a slick road.  And it's unfortunate that a speeding truck or car may just squash their attempts at procreation.  So that's where the volunteers come to help.  People in reflective clothes and boots up to their thighs and head lamps rotating around like lighthouse beams are walking along dirt roads- some with clipboards taking count of how many alive salamanders, peepers and frogs they help with the crossing and how many, unfortunately, died in their attempts. 

Cindy told me about how they mate.  I couldn't stop thinking about it so today I had her clarify because I wanted to make sure I got all the language correct. 

"So the males gently nudge and bump both females and other males (usually males out number females in ponds, so there is competition for the females.)  then they deposit their spermatophore on the bottom of the pond.  The stimulated female positions her vent over a spermatophore and removes the sperm containing cap.   You can find these whitish spermatophores attached to leaves and sticks under water in the breeding ponds following a night of heavy rain in the spring.  These are the ones that are left over from the night before that the females did not choose.

Say wha?  They dump their sperm at the bottom and then the females just go sit on it?  Really?  

I couldn't help but imagining our human race doing "it" this way.  Can you imagine bars (vernal pools) where men just spooge their spooge onto bar stools and the women  just come in and put their coats on the back of one of the stools and then just sit down.  And then that's that.  Battaboom battabang.  It would take a whole lot less work.  Ya know?  

And then the salamanders make their way back to the woods to burrow under leaves and detritus to hide.  Yea, I think I could do that.

Day 22

I have a room with a view.  

Because Paul Bunyan was able to put his fear of being on ladders aside for a little bit, I have a room with a view.

Because I was able to level off the windows from the inside, I have a room with a view. 



Because I've been waiting 9 years I HAVE A BATHROOM WITH A WALK-IN SHOWER THAT HAS A VIEW!  Now I just need to get the cement guy to come.  geesh. 

Day 21

Take a whiff.  It's one of my favorite things in the world. 

Day 20

Half way there!

 I don't know why I'm celebrating this; I guess it represents the beginning of warm summer months.  And freedom.  And the joy my children have. 

But by golly this thing is a Mother's Nightmare.  I think I'll make a stiff drink with the same title.  And then I can calm the heck down when my children are on it doing flips, tricks, games, and generally being jumpy children who could all essentially fall off of it and break a neck.  Their father got it for FREE and it has no net protecting everyone's body parts from breakage and please don't tell the insurance company?  And how could a nurse really be that....?  And guess who is going to be all alone here when the shit hits the....?  And why am I celebrating this?  I'm too old for this shit.

Day 19

 I know you've been waiting to see these all year.

The cold breeze blowing in the night somehow melted the half sheet that was still floating. 

And somehow he still does it. 

Day 18

The Crossfit Open for 2013.  I go to Crossfit so sporadically that I could never be as strong as this woman.  By the way, her son is in my son's class so the turning 40 excuse is ridiculous.  I want to be strong but I don't want to look like a man.  But today I celebrate the smidgen on me that could do 1/3 of this. 

Day 17

Soaking up the sun and warmth on the fist cookout of the year.  Burgers.  Steak tips.  And Dogs.  Lots and lots of dogs. 

Day 16

Paul Bunyan being a true Paul Bunyan.  I am celebrating the fact that we haven't burned one ounce of propane this year because of his hard work.  I mean, we've burned a little on the stove to cook macaroni and cheese.  But NONE to heat the house.  I love the sound of that- and the way Paul smells like chainsaw oil after a morning in the woods.  I'm weird.  I know.

Day 15

Paul Bunyan and I walked in the woods on Day 15.  We are apt to do this sometimes.  Especially now that we have a dog that needs these woods and the space they provide.  Paul's been teaching me about the trees and how to tell what's what and who's who. 

I was reminded of the first time we hiked together to the top of a white mountain in N.H.  We were 23 and 24.  So young.  Paul Bunyan even had some hair.  On that hike he taught me about bird calls, imitating them with words we know: "teacher teacher teacher".   And then at dinner later that night his fingers brushed up against my ankles and that was that.

Besides identifying trees, he's also teaching me how to use a chain saw- of which I'm very nervous to use because quite frankly I like all my appendages right where they are.  He's taught me a whole hell of a lot over the years, mostly that you can pretty much do anything if you put your mind to it.  I could probably write a beautiful eulogy right now for him if I had to.  "He taught me how to fold a tent properly, how to paddle a canoe, how to fix..."

And then I had to start thinking about what he would say at my funeral:  "She could fart in her sleep and belch like a mother-f...."

yup.  

Day 14

Random weird baby photo.  I know.

But Day 14 I celebrated my last day with this family.  My first set of fraternal twins after 4 sets of identical.  James and Bronte are on different rhythms, which means more work for mom and dad.  Praise the god in charge of my identical twins who still shit at the same time every day.

But grow babies grow- it's always hard leaving.

Day 13

The Children know.  They know because I told them last summer.  Because they asked, "Is there really an Easter bunny?"  I was very mean in my response, "Do you really think a very large bunny comes INTO our house to leave you candy?"  Claire was 10 at the time.

"But there definitely is a Santa Clause, right Mommy?"

"Yes, there is definitely a big fat man who comes down the chimney with your new bike on his shoulder.  Definitely."

I kid.  I kid.  But it was a little different this year mostly because I could say to Claire, "Darling, I have to hide all the jelly beans around the house and fill your tiny buckets with chocolate.  Can you please go to bed because I am exhausted."

And then she said, "Mom, will you make it harder this year?  I mean, like, really hide the jelly beans?  Because it's too easy."

That's what I get for telling her the truth.  Criticism.

Well, I hid the jelly beans like my mother did for me, and her mother did for her, on dusty windowsills and corners of cabinets that are easy to see and easy to find.  Mostly because a) I don't want to find them in July melted to my antique furniture and b) I want the hunt to be over rather quickly.  Which it was, luckily.  Claire meanly declared herself the winner and then Timmy proceeded to spill his all over the floor.  Auggie held the dog back while Claire picked up one and despite my hands possibly being a little wet, Timmy and I picked up the others.  And then a few minutes later Timmy is screaming, "MOM- they're melting.  My jelly beans are MELTING!"

"Timmy," I said, "please be quiet- your father is trying to sleep!"  Because he worked the night before and was headed back in in a few hours.  Happy happy.

"MOM!  They're melting."  Freaking out over jelly beans.  Seriously?  I went  to look in his bucket and there mixed with fake grass (green paper ripped into strips by Claire) and real dead grass (picked from the poop yard outside, also by Claire) was his melting jelly beans.  My hands may have been a little more than a little wet.  "Okay, well what would you like to do?  What do you think your choices are?"

Silence.

He really didn't know what his choices were.

And there it was- another perk of actually being out of the closet:  "Honey, I have a half of a bag of jelly beans in the cabinet.  Would you like to throw yours out and get a few more handfuls?"

Big smile.

What a relief to be OUT of the closet!  I saved the day!!  If I was still the "real" Easter bunny I would have had to make him eat melted, poop covered, jelly beans.

Well, he was happy but then I turned to look at Auggie and he was about to cry.  "What's up buddy?"

"Mom," he said sadly, "I can't eat these."

And he was right.  Two days prior he had his very expensive pallet expander put in.  How timely.  "Oh, darlin, I'm sorry.  Aren't you glad I gave you mints?"  I tried to sound enthusiastic. 

What a dumb question- mints over jelly beans, are you kidding me?  I knew he wouldn't answer me and it was okay when he turned away from me.  But after a few seconds I made an announcement to everyone- including Paul Bunyan sleeping soundly upstairs.

"Hello Everyone?  Hello!  This Easter bunny is RETIRED!  You guys are in charge of your own Easter next year.  Have fun!"  And then I turned around to the sink full of dishes.

Day 12

 41- the "girl" on the left.

She's the girl that does it all.  Works full time, trains for a half marathon, raises two kids under 3, skis practically every day, wins ski races, goes on dates with her husband.  Yeah, she actually GOES on dates with her husband.

We skinned up a mountain to celebrate her birthday.  Paul Bunyan bought me these monstrosities to share.  May be why I was last to make it to the top.  That or my skinny skins.  Or my, possibly, being the worst in shape, with the biggest...okay I'll stop.
 

At some point it can be considered miraculous what we women do.  

Most of us do the laundry.  We clean piss off the back of the toilets, especially if we have boys.

We generally do all the shopping and cooking and dishes.

 We clean vomit out from the spaces in between the wood floors at 11:45 p.m.

And by golly if we want to celebrate each other- we should.  And by golly if climbing up a mountain at sunset to ski down mashed potatoes is celebration- then good for us.  Let's do it again this Friday?