happy days are here again

Spring may have finally sprung here in New England and boy what a difference some sun, a little warmth, budding trees, singing birds - you get the idea - makes. Remind me again why we live here and torture ourselves through months of frigid temps? The kids are great, so happy to be spending more time outside, playing with toys and taking in nature. I'm happy to strip away a few layers, put the coats and hats away and have tired little kiddies who are easy to put to bed at night from all the fresh air and running around.

Had a good easter last weekend. It wasn't great because 1. Saturday was 40 and rainy all day, 2. P woke up grumpy and confused about the Easter Bunny and 3. the Easter Bunny did a crap job with the Easter Basket. P was less than thrilled with it and I have to concur, it was lame. I failed at Easter this year. At least I can do better next year. The weather was amazing though and we had a fun afternoon with the cousins and an egg hunt. Noel wasn't really digging the egg hunt, he was more focused on experiencing grass for the first time. He was intrigued yet put off. He kept falling on his bum but he couldn't stand to touch the grass long enough to push himself up. They spent all afternoon outside - slept so soundly that night.

Noel continues to get more communicative. Starting to imitate now - likes to try and blow his nose, use a fork, give kisses. 13 months is an exhausting age, but it's also an exciting one where every day you start to see something new in your child. With Paudie things are kind of leveling out, change and advancement is incremental. But with Noel, new skills just suddenly seem to appear. I had forgotten what that was like. With Paudie we were so focused on it because he was the only child so I know we drank it all in, but my mid-life mind can't seem to retain very much of anything.

Like billions of other people, we did watch part of the Royal wedding this AM. Paudie was interested in it given his own relatively recent pageboy experience. Well that and all the horses. He suggested I wear a veil to work today. I was surprised to get as sucked in as I did, but I think I'm just thirsting for some feel good type stuff right now. Is it just me, or do things feel really, really bad? Did my parents feel this way in the 70s and 80s? Were things as bad then as they are now? Everywhere you look, sadness, anger, idiocy. From the weather to politics, everything seems like a struggle. I also can't tell if I'm more interested in current events and politics now because I'm a parent or because things are so bad. But suffice it so say I'm very uncomfortable with where things are heading. The morons that get elected to make decisions for the rest of us. Forget the birth certificate, how about an IQ test?

Wait, this was supposed to be a happy post. Why can't I stop being Debbie Downer for the time it takes me to type all of this out?

So to recap, spring = good. Kids = great. State of the union = verging on Idiocracy.

Have I posted about the uptick in crime in our city? It's getting bad. Granted I understand we live in a city and cities have problems but the problems are spreading over into our quaint little section - and from all that I read, it's almost entirely drug related. In fact I tuned into Intervention the other night, one of my favorite shows to feel better about myself and my coping strategies and it's like, hey, this heroin addict is walking her dog on the beach... at the end of our street. Made us feel all warm and fuzzy to see her shoot up and then drive around. Watch this space, 3 bd/3 bath colonial coming soon...

Ugh there I go again.

where is my mind?

Here's a pic of Noel opening his present at his daycare party. P is looking on, being pretty reserved since afterall it is his official job to open all of his younger brothers' presents and play with-hoarde them. I'm also pretty impressed Noel is actually opening the gift himself since only the night before he was more interested in eating wrapping paper.

Noel continues to get more expressive and interactive. So fun to see a baby's mind really start to evolve, the things he is starting to grasp. Is at that stage where he puts things in and takes things out just about wherever he can. His milkaholism is also in full effect - the other night he sat crouched in the corner of our kitchen with nothing but a diaper and t-shirt on pounding a 6 ouncer. We've taken to watering every bottle down since it was all getting a little out of control. He doesn't seem to mind.

Paudie is Paudie. Hates to wake up on weekdays, balks at getting dressed in his room, has OCD about being the one to pick up his cup of milk and vitamin off of the counter every morning; turning off the TV; watching How Its Made. He's going for a dental checkup tomorrow so that will be interesting since I missed the first one. He actually went to the doc last week to have a cough checked out and I think it's the first time in over two years he wasn't screaming in hysterics. Haircuts still remain slightly problematic for him, I'd be perfectly fine to just let his hair grow a little long but problem is his hair grows up and not down. He has his father's hair for sure.

Hard to believe Easter is coming soon. I think we have to do a real Easter basket for P this year, though we haven't exactly talked it up, the Easter Bunny concept. He keeps asking about an Easter Egg hunt and all I think back to is the one (and only one ever in my life) we went to when he was about 1 1/2 at a neighborhood church. Massive hunt yes, but a little too much, how should I say this... propaganda... for my comfort zone. Raised Catholic, any sort of formal religious event that includes holding hands, dancing, guitars and clapping makes us, how should I say this... extremely nervous. The hunt itself was enormous and fun for the kids, but really does Easter have to be all religious? I jest! I get it, but it was just a bad scene for a little kid who wanted to get be outside picking colored plastic eggs off the ground - you know, picking things up and putting them in.

Also hard to believe is that next week marks the 11 year anniversary of that fateful night that John and I met at JJ Foleys. Have I already remarked on how cliched it is to pick up a Paddy in an Irish pub in Boston? Well I didn't exactly pick him up but whenever people ask how we met, it's like, he's Irish, I'm American, he's a carpenter and I work in software - take a wild guess how we met. Lot has happened in 11 years. It's always something to think of fate, to think, what if I hadn't had those X drinks on a pseudo-bender that took me from Davis Square to Landsdowne Street to last call in Downtown Crossing? That'll be a good story to tell the kids in like 20 years and they'll be all horrified that their crazy mom used to be fun and tie one on here and there.

Ode to Noel

Ah Noel. One year ago today you entered the world and brought more light and love into our lives. You were the quietest, happiest baby. You never cried! You were a complete and utter delight. And those blue eyes of yours - killer. A little gift from your brother in heaven I think. And now as I think of you turning one... How you effectively dumped a full bowl of Special K onto my lap/the ground/the couch this morning making everything wet and cold and smell like milk. The cherished time you spend molesting Banjo's food, throwing it around the kitchen, and finishing with a hand-wash in his bowl of water. Your incredible armspan that has forced us to move every kitchen tool/foodstuff to the very backs of our counters and all of our piles of random things that don't have other places to go to the very center of the dining room table. Watching you take down your 3 year old brother, wrestle him into a headlock, steal his toast as he is trying to put it into his mouth - priceless. The morning earlier this week that you were sleeping so soundly next to me then woke me with a head-butt to my face with your humongous head, splitting my lip open - charming. Yes our little Noel is growing up - what a difference a year makes eh? Watching him go from this quiet, placid cuddler of a baby to a complete terror and roughneck has been, well, a surprise quite frankly. I always thought he'd be the calm one. But even though he's a squirmy, strong willed bull of a little boy, our special bond is intact. Noel was the first of our three children I could just completely enjoy in infancy. With Cian I was clueless and then, well, you know the rest. With Paudie I was still grieving Cian, felt guilt at any glimmer of happiness and was consumed with cancer striking again. With Noel, I just felt love. I was calmer and more confident. Things just clicked. So happy first birthday to Noel. Too bad you couldn't squeeze yourself down the birth canal only 35 minutes earlier, then you wouldn't be an April Fool's baby. But I digress. It's been a wonderful year watching you grow and change and I know that the best is yet to come. We're so lucky to have you in our lives.

baa

Ah March, the lion and the lamb. Here we are, on our way to April and today it's going to be lovely and mild - and I will get outside and experience it dammit. Then tomorrow the lion returns. Drat. It's funny how you managing through the winter is all about rationalization. If it's a blizzard, well maybe you don't have to go into the office. If it's just arctic, hey at least it's not a blizzard. When it's 30, you think, at least it's not arctic. But once you start to get a taste of spring, that all starts to go out the window. You are no longer grateful. You want 65 degrees every day, then 75 and 80.

I really don't belong on the east coast. I see no value in winter. I have no love in my heart. I do not ski, ice skate, or partake in any other winter sports. Oh, and I'm cold all the time. Like I probably have a circulation problem or something. I have a space heater on my desk at work that I use every day - it's about 6 inches away from me. I hate being cold. There are few things worse than feeling cold. So yeah, it's a bummer cos I don't see myself heading south unless I'm ready to trade in my car for a golf cart and have the grandkids down.

Still no pics of the kids. So bad. We have albums and albums of Paudie's pics. Noel, not so much. All of his photos live on our laptop. I feel like now that he's turning one it's time to get a nice picture taken of him like we did Paudie. He still has such a chubby baby face. He is not walking yet though trying to get brave about it. he also won't wave bye-bye but get this, I guess it's his first word. He always has a strong verbal reaction when we say it to him. So damn cute. Paudie was not really verbal like that so maybe he'll be an early talker. He's been staying up later - the past few months it was a struggle to keep him up past 7:30 - now he has no intention of going to bed before 8:30. Damn you daylight saving time. And he's super bitchy about it. Before we'd just put him in his crib and he'd turn over and go right to sleep. Now there is lots of screaming involved. Sigh. Could also be due to the transition to more table food. He seems to have a few faves - fish, beans. And Banjo loves Noel even more now. He parks himself under Noel's highchair as he eats and gets in on everything that fails to make it into Noel's mouth, which is substantial.

Paudie is definitely at that kids-say-the-darndest-things stage. This week there were two gems - "oh great. someone forgot to flush the toilet. (it was him). and "shh guys, i'm trying to sleep" - he came out of his bedroom and went back in. Okay so they really aren't the darndest things I guess, it's more his tone. Very serious and adult like. And he's taken to quoting "An Idiot Abroad" because he watches way too much Science channel. He must have said "congress tarp" 20 times last night. I couldn't even understand what Carl was saying but apparently P could.

You'd think being a semi-Irish family we'd have had some big St. Patrick's day to-do. But we didn't. Kids wore their Ireland rugby shirts. That's about it. No boiled dinner, no parades, nothing. The closest we came was an at-home Irish breakfast with some friends last weekend. Oh man, Irish sausage and puddings are some goooood stuff. I'm not a huge carnivore but damn, I like myself an Irish fry. Nothing beats being sweaty and dehydrated all day long after. The boys love it as well. I think if we lived in Ireland we'd have cholesterol and/or blood pressure problems for sure, though perhaps the thrill would fade.

There you have it, another riveting update. When I see all the chaos in the world, all the troubling things, I am thankful for our quiet existence. It's true I feel restless with where we are, but I appreciate all that we have and hope things improve for those living through just incredibly hard times.

i will be happy today.

Yup, still no pictures to post. It's been ages, I know. We never take pictures anymore with our SLR - John takes them all with his iPhone and I never even see them.

Today I am going to be happy. Because it's Friday and it's looking like a decent weekend. Because Noel is on the verge of walking which I find very exciting if for no other reason than I won't have to bend down to the floor as much to haul up the 28 lb bundle of joy that is wrecking my back. I do think once he walks, he and Paudie's relationship is going to blossom. They have been playing together a lot more lately. Gets a little rough sometimes - and more often then not it's Noel making Paudie cry. He doesn't know his own strength.

Spent last week with the fam in upstate NY. Noel reverted back to basically a newborn with his sleeping patters while there - couldn't seem to sleep more than 3-4 hours at a stretch, up at the crack of dawn each morning. Within about one day of being there, I was wholly sleep deprived. Between bad sleep and chasing him all over the most baby unproofed house, it was a rough week. We were able to get out to the Science Museum one day and it was totally empty so that was nice. Also hit the Children's museum which is like perfect for kids Paudie's age. Noel got in on some of the fun, but really everything is perfectly oriented for pre-schoolers. Also ate a lot of tasty upstate NY junk food. Schalers, Abbotts, DiBellas, Dinosaur, Zarpentines... jaysus it's easy to gain 5 pounds there. Plus hit Wegmans a few times. Such a great store - I'm so jealous of my fellow massholes who live west of 495 that will be enjoying a brand new Wegmans in only a matter of months I believe.

Given our sheer exhaustion all week, really made us ponder how we could ever manage having another baby, assuming that would even be possiblt. I think we realized we probably, realistically can't do it again. It's not even a financial thing or the notion of being outnumbered. It's that I'm sick of being tired all the time. I want a life back. But it's hard for me to come to terms with 'being done' because of all these pent up fears and anxieties I have about childhood cancer combined with prolonged grief from losing Cian. It's just this extremely complicated thing but I think I realized I don't want to be a miserable, tired mum. I need to enjoy what I have and be in the moment with it. But it's all easier said than done. It's a process for me to internalize it.

So got back Saturday evening, got a great night sleep (all of us did actually) - and my god, isn't it truly amazing what a great night sleep can do for one's body and mind? I think it is the best medicine. Had a quiet day Sunday to gear up for Cian's 5th birthday Monday. I thought this might be the year we involve Paudie, maybe get a small cake. But we just couldn't do it. I came to work on Monday, which was a first. And a mistake. I really had no right being here and my disposition and overall miserable attitude really showed it. I think it was the first anniversary I didn't cry - and that's not because I'm okay with it, despite my showing up to work, it's because I was completely numb this year. But it's behind us now and we are free of anniversaries for a little while.

Looking forward to a weekend witht the boys. 3 1/2 is such a great age, minus the occasional and horrible temper tantrum. We took P and N out for a walk last sunday as it was quite mild and there P is, pointing out conifers. The stuff pre-schoolers understand and maintain is just nuts. He's also really into watching Man Vs Wild. He's a riot. Likes to pretend he's Bear Grylls. Gets a total kick of out him. I know, not the most age appropriate programming but I think it's better than any cartoon. And Noel is Noel. Doing better eating tablefood though still seems to wear more than he ingests. He's starting to point a little bit, take a few steps here and there. Getting more interactive, playing little games like handing us things. Pointing the remote at the TV (sigh). I cannot believe he is one in only about 2-3 weeks, where did the last year go?

i am i said

That's a great Neil Diamond song. Not as great as America, but what is, really?

Don't have any new pic to go with this update. Please someone, a wireless SD card for our camera.

Am going to try to be more upbeat in my musings today. Because I'm sure that people who don't know me read this and think, wow this is one morose, sad, whiny woman. And those that do know me think, well they probably think they same thing. I really believe for the most part I am okay. It's balance. For me to get on with my life and be a productive part of society, a good mom, a... well, an employee, I can't let the grief off of its leash. It grounds me. And maybe I need to stop being grounded but it's a little too comforting to cut it loose. Because I know I can't get over losing Cian. That doesn't mean I walk around dressed in black crying like John Boehner, that just means there is a sadness I live with every day. That doesn't mean I don't enjoy life or laugh, it just means my highest high right now is let's say a 7.5 and not a 10. But I'm pretty happy with a 7.5. That is my cross to bear.

I think what people can't understand until they are in the shoes of a parent dealing with a terminally ill or dying child is that you would do anything to save them. Literally. If a doctor had said give us every single penny and we'll save your son, no brainer. If some higher power had said, mama, you take the cancer and we'll save your son, yup, that would have worked too. So when you actually live like that and ponder those types of things, when you are so desperate... how do you rebound from that once the inevitable happens? How can I care about money any more when I would have given it all away? How can I worry about death when I would have taken it to spare my son? This is just part of the mental damage you are left with.

I love my family. My living children saved me. I am thankful for every day that I feel healthy and wise. But I just can't and never will shake the grief. I've come to terms with that much.

In just over a week Cian would have been 5. I'm supposed to be the mother of a little boy starting kindergarten this year, instead I'm the mother of a little boy who was supposed to start kindergarten this year. After Cian died I thought I'd be some neuroblastoma warrior mom. I started an organization in his name to spread the word - the disease is out there and most docs don't have a clue what it is or how to diagnose. But then I realized, I don't know the first thing about the disease really. He was sick for seven short weeks, then he was gone. He only managed through 3 rounds of chemo. So what the hell do I know about this disease besides it is evil and should be eradicated post haste? Not much. I tried to go there, to learn more, to throw myself into the disease and I realized, I hate this little mf so why am I burdening myself any further with it? I hope Cian understands.

Ugh and that's another thing, living your life out with this sense of being watched over. WWCT? What would Cian think?

The other night I was out driving alone thinking about Cian and I had one of those, "did that really happen" moments? Did I really have a child and he died? Really, that really happened? To me? I think that's why I am fascinated by the stories of other bereaved parents. It helps me deal with what I'll call low self esteem that stems from his death. We brought him here to give him a great life and protect him. Fail and fail. And while I know it wasn't our fault and there was nothing more we could do beyond what we did do, none of it helps.

So this post didn't really turn out as positive as I thought it would - but really I'm okay. It's just late February, that's all. And this is all part of the lifelong healing process. I'm sure just about the time I've internalized it all, when it finally clicks, I'll be sitting in some SNF with diabetes, dementia and heart disease telling Paudie that my pants are too tight and that I need to go to the bathroom.

crickets.

Yeah I got nothing for a title today. I am completely out of any ideas and there is no general theme to this update I can try to work with. Happy it's Friday. Happy it's springlike out. Happy my husband told me I looked skinny this AM. Look at that, I'm actually copping to being happy!

This pic was taken late last week at daycare - was for our Valentine's day card. Cute stuff huh. To me these two boys look nothing alike. I think the main resemblance is between Noel and Cian which is something I am grateful for. It does my heart good to think that Noel can help answer many unaswered questions I have about our first born. Who knows really but it works for me so there.

With how I feel these days it's pretty clear an anniversary is bearing down on us. Cian's 5th birthday is March 7. The birthday is the hardest of all for me. Because it really marks the day that was the most life-changing for me, the best day of all. Every February the feelings of hope I had in 2006 are just so palpable to me. I think I am trying to get more comfortable with denial. I read recently it's not really any worse to deny grief than to embrace it. Cian turning 5. Wow. So hard to think of having a little boy ready to enter kindergarten this year - wonder where we'd be living. Cos I don't think we'd be living where we are - especially in light of the neighboorhood crime watch that is being formed on our street. Crimony.

But I digress.

These next few weeks are hard, on March 8th things will be a little easier, especially as we look forward to Noel's first birthday. Trying to figure out what we will do to celebrate - definitely won't have the huge party we had for Paudie, but we'll put something together. I have to say, raising Noel this year has been a wonderful experience. With Cian I had no idea what I was doing - and that was before he even got sick. Once he got sick, it really all went out the window. I'd never even given a child medicine before - I was a deer in headlights for the 7 weeks he was sick. With Paudie I was an obsessive, anxious, depressive mess that was still grieving for Cian and worried the same thing would happen. With Noel it's been a completely different experience marked by confidence, and what an enormous difference a little confidence makes.

So what else is happening? Paudie had a great Balentine's day as he called it. Lots of candy. Candy good. Noel is all up in Paudie's business these days which is driving him nuts - I do feel for the boy. All he wants to do is put a puzzle together or read a book or even drink some milk and there Noel is, in his face. And he's an aggressive little fella. He remains on the verge of walking. Like his brother before him, he can already open doors and pull things off of the counter. It's a whole new way of living all over again. Shutting the doors and gates, locking the doors and cabinets. He's at the stage now where the most fun best thing ever in the world to do is take things out of something and thrown them on the ground. I can't say I understand the fun in that but it does seem to be a universal desire at his age. It's exhausting though. For us mind you. John and I are always talking about how parenting would be so much easier if we were younger. Well easier in some ways I guess.

Okay so this entry is wandering off into extremely dull territory. Shocker. I think it's all the carbs I had this AM. Why can't I be the type of person who can haul her ass out of bed and exercise then have a high protein breakfast? There are some days at work I actually consider napping under my desk, there I said it. For the record, I have never done this. So I'm not quite George Costanza but perhaps not far off. Sad.