I got my bag from Bluefly.com today.

The UPS guy drove up just as I was starting the hideous task of de-jungling my yard and flower beds. Jonathan’s birthday is on Saturday and he has opted to take his geeky self and several of his geeky friends down to his office to spend the whole day and night with their geeky computers all networked together to play endless amounts of geeky computer games.

Not MY idea of a fantabulous birthday, but since I don’t have a million and one Leathermans, flashlights, phones and other forms of geekary attached to my belt at all times, I know that I “Just don’t get it”. It’s his day, he can do what he wants. I just want him to be happy.

As I will be kid-free that night, I will most likely be curled up with a good book or movie and possibly a vat of cookie dough, but you didn’t hear that here.

Back to my yard.

Since Jonathan is turning 32 (YES. HE IS OLDER THAN I AM, OK? He loves calling me “Mrs. Robinson”. We are not amused.), I did want to celebrate his birthday at some point. We have good friends that grew up with Jonathan visiting from Virgina and since we wanted to get together with everyone we just decided to throw a BBQ on Friday to celebrate both events.

Which means our first outdoor party of the year.

Which means I don’t just have to clean my house, I also have to get my yard ready. Which is not easy. My trip to Minnesota (and my inadequacy of dealing with my life-suck) has put me WAY behind on my yard. The biggest problem has been with our mower. It has been at the shop since the first thaw and so my yard has been HORRIBLE. The weeds in my area are crazy bad, too. It took a very long time, some serious swearing and about 3 herniations to get the whole project done.

I swear I thought I was going to find Jimmy Hoffa amongst the weeds in my back garden. GAH! I managed to get the 200 lbs of Sienna red chips scattered, all the flowers planted and my herbs potted, and made sure that all half acre of the lawn was mowed, even though it means that I am going to need to take eleventyhundred Aleve so that I can walk tomorrow. Although, since I also had a rehearsal full of the Charleston combined with tons of frantic house cleaning, I REALLY don’t think that there is much chance of that. I am in bucketloads of back pain and I can just imagine what a night on my suckass bed is going to make me feel like in the morning.
Back to my yard. Again.
All through my gardening process, I kept eying my box from Bluefly. I left it on the porch as a visual reminder that I had something AWESOME waiting for me. Call it a, ‘Don’t stick the pruning clippers in your eye, Loralee. Just finish the damn garden so you can open me!” pep talk if you will.
I finally got the last of the weeds thrown in the wheelbarrow as it turned officially dark and then went inside to guzzle water and open my box to see my new purse!!!!

DUDE.

Total disappointment.

It’s…Boring. And stiff. And the leather is nubby, which you can’t see in the photo and which I hate. The ruffles look stiff and awkward instead of feminine and it just isn’t something that I really want to spend a hundred bucks on, even if it was 60% off.

AND…it was designed by JESSICA SIMPSON.

I think that last tidbit was the final nail in the coffin for me.

It’s so disappointing.

It’s SO being sent back.

…I’m 33.

Welcome to my great-niece!  (See my Flickr set for more photos)

“Ellie Nan”

8/14/07

8 lbs. 15 oz; 21/5 Inches

She has tons of curly blond hair, long fingers and toes, is round and perfect and I love her to bits. I was there at the hospital for almost everything. My niece did an amazing job.

It was a very.long.day.

The situation is very complicated and it could change from moment to moment, so I am going to refrain from writing about it right now. All I know is that I love Ellie and I love her mother, my amazing niece, who is braver than I can say.

I can’t believe you are 8!  You are my handsome little man. I love you so much.

I WILL BE HOME FOR CAKE TONIGHT! Even if I have to drive through another freaking forest fire, I will be home for your birthday. I promise.

Love, Momma

It covers a lot. If my lengthy ramblings/rantings bother you, don’t read it.

Today is the birthday of my friend,”Karen the Librarian”. To honor the occasion we threw her a surprise birthday party last night with a ninja theme. Karen really, really digs Ninja’s for some reason. I’m just going to put the photos throughout this post, even though the text may not relate. First things first, though. Thank you for your emails. A lot of them really helped (A few didn’t, but that’s life.) I will answer them as soon as I can.

I know I unsettled some of you with my vitriolic girl-spew at Disneyland and my spew of life suck yesterday. I probably didn’t do a good job of explaining. I think I am just crazy hormonal, sleep deprived and stressed out.

I have a hella three weeks I have to get through and I don’t know how I’m going to.

I leave early Friday to drive 6 hours with my mom to a family reunion that causes me great anxiety and that I do not want to attend and yet am. I won’t get back from there until the night before the huge annual party Jon and I throw for the 4th, I have a trip to Salt Lake on the 7th (Which I am actually looking forward to), Christopher’s birthday party on the 12th and another freaking reunion on the weekend of the 13th.

I just want to put my head down and cry and cry thinking about everything and don’t know how on earth I’m going to get the mountain of things associated with each of these things done. Normally, I could probably do all of this without batting an eye, but I am so out of whack and anxious I just can’t seem to get it together and cope.

Take yesterday:

Between washing and putting everything away after vacation, our air conditioner breaking down, and trying to plan and execute this party, I was a basket case.

Things reached a boiling point of epic proportions when the cable guy showed up at my house.

When I saw his truck pulling up I dimly remembered Jon saying about two weeks ago that he was having the DVR in our bedroom replaced and a new VOIP service bundled in with our cable. I ran into the bedroom, ripped out the box and ran to the door so that the cable guy wouldn’t see the piles of bra’s and panties and packets of maxi pads and tampons in my bedroom. It was going to be bad enough having him in my house at all.

I need to explain. I do not do well with strangers in my house. DO.NOT.DO.WELL. I barely answer the door for people I know, let alone people I don’t. Bizarre, I know. But, I was raised to be very self conscious about the state of my house, and this is by people who were really great house keepers. I kinda suck at it so the anxiety of anyone SEEING the clutter of my stuff about pushes me over the edge. AND I had stuff from my trip everywhere trying to get it put away. I literally broke out into a sweat.

IT DID NOT HELP WHEN HE ASKED TO USE MY BATHROOM.

After that he was done (AND DID NOT WASH HIS ALREADY DIRTY HANDS) he put his hand on my bedroom door.

“No! You can’t go in there!”

“I have to, Ma’am. It’s where your DVR is going to be set up and it’s policy. The box won’t work correctly if I don’t install it and then call it in.”

“Well, it’s MY policy that you do not see the underwear and panties that I have flung all over my bedroom. Sorry. Just take your form and write on there “Customer did not want stranger cable guy to view personal undergarments and period paraphernalia!“”

Yes. It was really that bad.

After he went down to the basement to hook up the phone, I called my friend Mary Ellen, to come help me assemble stuff for the party and to ensure that I didn’t freak out on the poor guy anymore. Then I called my friend, Brian.

There is something you need to know about Brian. I love him dearly, but for some reason, whenever I am way hormonal (ie-On my period or pregnant) there will be times when he is sitting there doing nothing offensive and I will just want to smack him upside the head with a baseball bat. I have no idea why, but his usually endearing habits make me want to rip my hair out. We often joke about it and as a result, Brian is usually keenly aware of it being “That time of the month”.

Brian answered the phone in his usual way:

“Hello-o-o-o-o-o-o?”

“Hey, Brian.”

“Hello-o-o-o-o-o-o?”

“Ha, ha. Brian. Seriously, I have a question.”

“Hello-o-o-o-o-o-o?”

“Ok, Brian. You need to know that I am having my period. A really BAD period. So you know that baseball bat that I usually threaten to smite you with? Yah, it isn’t a baseball bat at this point. It’s much, much worse than that. You know why they never found weapons of mass destruction in Iraq? It is because THEY ARE ALL IN MY VAGINA AND RIGHT NOW IT IS AIMED AT YOU!!”

“That would probably sound a whole lot more appealing if I wasn’t gay.”

“I doubt it.”

Mary Ellen and I finished prepping for the gathering.

Usually for these functions I work with Michelle and we are one mean, lean, party throwing machine. This time, Michelle is in Tahiti with her husband. Thankfully she did loads of leg work and purchasing of decorations before she left. My very favorite are the NINJA RUBBER DUCKIES!!!! (There is one on the plate) So freaking cute.

Our plan was awesome. Karen and I clean my husband’s office building three times a week (M,W,F) so the plan was simple. We would set everything up in the cafeteria and just wait for her to come empty the trash.

It totally worked.

We ate, played “Ninja Bingo” and then went into the big auditorium to watch “Spirited Away” on the big movie screen. Mary Ellen was really sick and had to be to work by 7 am and I was freaking exhausted, so we bowed out half way through and left around 11. I now HAVE to see the rest of the movie to see if the parents ever got rescued from being pigs. Sigh.

At least everyone had a great time and Karen was totally surprised (Though not thrilled to be caught in her “Cleaning Clothing”).

I got a solid twelve hours of sleep which I really needed and feel somewhat better. At least I know I’m not going to go postal on unsuspecting cable guys. I just have to worry about how in the hell I am going to survive the next three weeks.

I have to go pack for the family reunion.
Suck a duck.

**Edit. This post is about my son that died. I realize that this is regurgetation of facts/feelings for a lot of you. Many of you have offered condolences repeatedly. They are ALWAYS welcome, but please, do not feel like you have to keep repeating yourself if you feel like a broken record. I know that you love and care for me and my family but I realize that sometimes all that needs to be said has already. THANK YOU!**

Four years ago, right around this time of the morning, I was at the hospital, completely sick of being in labor and wondering many things.

“I wonder how big he’ll be?”

“I wonder if he’ll be as cute as my other boys?”

“I wonder what he’ll look like?”

“I wonder WHEN THE FREAK THIS WILL BE OVER ALREADY!!!!”

(FYI-When you are in hard labor, the last question usually trumps all the previous ones.)

Matthew was born three weeks early. He was due on June 26th and was born on June 7th. This was done deliberately because I was having a difficult time carrying him and been hospitalized a number of times because of it. All of my children came early, but not by three weeks. I worried about his size. James and Christopher were both in the 6 pound range when they were born, and in all the photos their hospital “Going home” outfits were drowning them. I knew Matthew would be smaller. So, I went out and got a tiny preemie outfit that was adorable and packed it in my bag.

Everyone was placing bets on how bit he would be. I guessed five lbs, but Jonathan had more conviction about his manly genetics and so he guessed 7 lbs.

Matthew weighed 8 lbs. 3 oz and was 20 inches long at three weeks early!!! He would have been 12 lbs if he had been on time!!!!

No wonder I was having such a hard time carrying him! He had red hair and was just huge. I called him my little highland warrior. I loved and adored him immediately. Jonathan was so proud. It was a very happy day for everyone. The following months were happy, productive and some of the best times my family experienced.

I don’t mean to be biased, but he was just the cutest baby. SEE?

I have about a million photos of him munching on his “Sucky thing” because I loved it. I could hang out all day and watch him. I was so happy the 3 months and 16 days that he was here. I cannot believe that he would have been four years old today. Where has the time gone?

I have a lot of people ask me if it has gotten easier as the years go by without my little bug. My answer is a resounding “Yes and No”.

I am still full of wondering questions, many like the ones I pondered on the day he was born.

“I wonder what he would look like now?”

“I wonder if his hair would still be red?”

“I wonder if he is ever here with me?”

“I wonder why this had to happen to him and our family? WHY?”

I have had some really meaningful and deep email exchanges about a mother who lost her baby a few months ago. They have made me reflect on the past a lot this week. I remember what those first months were like- I wanted more than anything to have a remote control to fast forward through all the horrible pain and get to the point where it was bearable. At the same time I didn’t want that pain to die down or go away because that is how you SHOULD feel when your baby dies. It should never abate, never subside because he was that important to me. His loss was that devastating and if the pain went away, somehow it seemed like it would be a slap in the face to how important he was to my life.

Now that some time has passed, I can see the flaws in that argument a little better, but I still hold on to a lot of things regarding Matthew and I still feel scared to let them go. I’m stubborn like that. I hate that so many of my acute memories of him are fading, I have trouble remembering a lot and there are many sleepless nights that I lay in bed desperately trying to recall everything I can. “What time did he used to go down for a nap?” “How often was he eating at the end” “Which outfits were my favorite?” “Did he ever get to see a thunderstorm? I can’t remember!”.

Thankfully, there are some moments that will NEVER go away. How I used to kiss the bridge of his nose, the way he sat in his bouncer on the day he noticed his hands for the first time. How he looked sucking happily on his pacifier and the little noises that come with frustrated pacifier munching and the time he was so desperate to eat when I was out of the shower he latched on to my upper arm and gave me an arm hickey. His brothers holding him, him sleeping on Jon’s chest.

Those memories are mine. Hopefully forever. They are the things that I think about more and more instead of the day that he died. They are the things that I want to remember and focus on and that is getting easier to do.

I am doing better. There is so much more light and hope in my life than there has been in a long time. I am trying. I am looking (Even if it is so cautiously, one tiny millemeter at a time) at ways to be better, happy and to keep moving forward. I get stalled a lot but I am trying. As I said, this is still so hard. It created this HUGE ripple effect that touched, invaded and destroyed and damaged many, many parts of my life in ways I would never have imagined and I have so MUCH fallout that I am still dealing with. There are so many days I just feel overwhelmed, bitter, angry and lost.

BUT.

I think it helps to just be thankful. I don’t do this very well because of my inherent pessimistic attitude, but I’m trying and it happens more and more often .Thankful that he was here at all. Thankful that I got to be his mom. Thankful for all the good things I have left.

I think he’d want it that way.

Happy Birthday, Little Bug. I miss you. I think about you. I love you. Always.

Love,

Momma.

It is Michelle’s Birthday!
(For the record, as a birthday gift, I didn’t take photos at the party. Except this one, which prompted the request. I feel that the color-coordinating bar of anonymity is an adequate compromise. Grin.)
To celebrate, we had a lovely breakfast at Brigitte’s home with “The Girlfriend Night Gang” (Yes, I realize that makes me sound like I’m a fifth grader in a club that has rules about no boys allowed and strict color coding of all friendship bracelets worn).
This was a fun party to plan. We sorta threw it together in a day or two and I loved getting it all sorted. Since we’re not really morning people we decided that simple food and a fussier setting was the way to go since we could set the table the night before. The inspiration for the whole shebang were these argyle gift boxes ($1.99 @ Michael’s). Chelle loves argyle and so it was perfect. I thought it would be cute to have the centerpiece be like a birthday present with flowers in the center box. I just took an 8-pck of Alysum and cut the sides of it down and placed it in the box with some white tissue paper. It turned out so cute. I wish I had done the same to the other two boxes. The place cards and holders we came up with turned out pretty swell, if I say so myself.Karen made the tags and I potted lavender and white allysum in white ramekins. Me, Karen, Bridgy and of course, Chelly had a fantabulous time munching on pastries, bagles, and fresh fruit. We talked, listened to music and just enjoyed each other’s company. All our schedules are freaking CRAZY this summer so we won’t get to spend as much time together as in the school year months.I loved the way the whole morning turned out. Hopefully, so did everyone else.
Happy Birthday, my sweet friend. I won’t embarrass you overly by making too *Big a deal* about you, but I am beyond grateful that you came into my life. I love that you embrace the weird and quirky and seek your own path and style. You’re funny, thoughtful, truthful, kind and you have great hair. You help me figure out that 2+2 does indeed equal 4, not 18.3333344455555333233343 as I previously thought. It also helps that you’re hot. Having a hot BFF is always a plus, don’ t you think?

Happy, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!