All grownsed up

Yup, there goes the namesake of this blog off to school. I still can't believe it. I felt sick as he was getting on the bus - there was no empty seat! But he barely batted an eye, a far cry from where we were a year ago as he would clutch John's leg as he attempted to drop P at pre-school. If we were still living in Massachusetts P wouldn't even be eligible for school this year so I did have slight pause about his readiness, being one of the youngest boys in the grade, but he really does seem ready. He got up at 6:50 on his own today, got dressed, helped with his lunch. Six years ago today we were in Childrens Hospital Boston and had just learned Cian's cancer was 'amplified' meaning a certain death at some point in his childhood. I remember wondering if he'd make it to school. If we'd have other kids. It's sometimes hard to grasp how life has changed in these six years. That I'm the same person.

So we made it to Kindergarten. And as P is only days away from turning 5, I am days into turning 40. So I'm all grownsed up too. 40 really hit me. A lot of my friends are telling me that its great, a good age to be. I actually don't doubt that. But why can't I have the wisdom and peace of 40 along with the energy and skin of 30?

It's been over a month since I last posted. I suck. But in my defense, summer got crazy after the last post. My dad was in the hospital for much of August. He is finally 'out' with his cancer diagnosis so I feel I can write about it. He was diagnosed with metastatic prostate cancer in October 2009 and told no one. This is what we are dealing with. I only found out at Christmas 2010 because he got sloppy and left pill bottles and his oncologist's business card out in plain sight. Or maybe he wanted to get caught. Anyways this summer he stopped eating. And the cancer got hold of most of his bones. So it became a fairly time and mentally consuming thing to deal with. We're just taking it one day at a time now. I really feel for him, it's stressful not seeing the future. Having any semblance of routine go out the window.

On a brighter note or two, Eloise is pulling herself up and trying to talk. We think she is going to bypass crawling. She has one tooth that has broken through. The other is still MIA. Like her bro Padraig, she hates food. Noel is still a menace to society. Really upset today as P left on the bus. His words continue to come fast and furious. He remains clung to John at most times which makes me wonder how we will ever get him back to daycare cos you know he really needs to get out of the house and around other kids a few days a week. Eloise too. I feel that's why P waltzed onto the bus today, he had strong socialization from the time he was one. Noel, only a small bit. Noel would rather convene with nature. Like a mountain toddler.

The only thing constant in life is change. I guess that's a theme for today.

what you talking about willis?

Doesn't Eloise totally have that Arnold look on her face? There she was, just chillaxing in her little play yard when Noel decided to climb on in and join her. He looooooves his little sister. Every morning she wakes up at about 6 and cries until I bring her into our bed. She falls right back asleep until the other two arrive in at about 7:30. For a few minutes it's just the sweetest thing, all of us resting in our bed together, until Noel and P start to fight. Then we have to swoop in and retrieve Miss Ellie Jo. I know they say the more of routine the less of life, but I sort of like knowing what to expect every morning.

So we had John's family in town for a few days and boy did we show em a Western NY good time. We ran them ragged. Hit the County Fair one late afternoon. I love how it goes from all sweet and 4-H like with the animals and the farming kids to all gross in a matter of about an hour. The clientele goes downhill fast. I love how kids don't even notice, it's just all about the rides. Hit Niagara Falls Canada the next day - my first time over the border since I was probably 20. In other words, underage and looking to drink. Man the US side is depressing. Talk about a missed opportunity for tourism - it is literally all boarded up shops and houses. But then Canada is all clean and green with activities galore. We did the Maid of the Mist - my first time. Wow. It was about 93 out and we are all struggling with the heat so the mist off the falls was so refreshing. Paudie and Ellie loved it - Noel, who is usually the risk taker, not so much. He never ceases to surprise up. We hit a Civil War re-enactment on Saturday. Wow again. Man people get really into that! The soldiers were like, the real deal. It's as if they just stepped out of 1861. No plastic bottles or soda or preserved snacks. And the calvary was pretty cool too. Later that night we dragged ourselves to a Drive-in since that seemed to have the Irish cousins pretty intrigued. But everyone either fell asleep or melted down within about 15 minutes of the movie starting. I'm so glad we have one of those close by - such a great idea. Nothing like being outside on a nice mild, breezy night and having large screen entertainment right there.

Sunday things came to a halt because my father had to go into the hospital. These past few months my position as a sandwich kid or whatever the hell the nickname is for people taking care of children and parents has really started to wear me down. To have two parents with challenging health issues who live in two different places, then three kids under 5... oy. We go to Paudie's soccer games and see all the grandparents there cheering on their kids and it just depresses me because he will never had that. Of course I never really had that either but for entirely different reasons and look how okay I turned out. Or maybe I just feel sorry for me. Last night within an hour I spoke to my father who apparently knows best when it comes to what of his medications he will and will not take then went to see my mother who I was sitting with and speaking to and she later confessed she had no idea who we were the whole time, thought we were a family that coincidentally looked like her own.

Okay enough of woe is me. We all have our shit, I know.

I can't believe July is going to be ending soon. We have had a great summer despite crazy parents and crazy kids and crazy heat. I am already dreading winter cos there is no point in trying to be optimistic about this one, it's gonna be off the hook.You don't get two mild winters in a row. You get one and then like 50 brutal ones. Why didn't anyone ever teach me how to ski, how to have love in my heart for snow and cold?

time flies when you're having fun

That's what they say, right? So another month has flown by. I'll recap by going back to late May when this photo was taken. About every two years it seems we have a photographer come take pictures of the kids. And it's a stressful event for me because I'm a perfectionist so it's all about buying new clothes, keeping them clean, hoping for good weather, happy kids. So when a small blinde curly boy splits his head open the morning of said photo session, it kinda puts a damper on things. Our first stiches episode. Let's be honest though, with Noel's personality and track record, it's amazing it didn't happen sooner. Our pediatrician stitched him up lickity split and he was home in time for the photographer. Not the happiest camper, but he rallied. And I even lifted myself out of my catatonic state as well. Yes, I was watching Noel when he slipped on the wet bathroom floor and split his head on a stone ledge into the shower. And I was completely useless as I am in every crisis.

So yeah, there's the family. Pretty good huh. Our Miss Eloise has officially outlived Cian so now our firstborn is our youngest child. I look at her, how cute and fun she is and feel so sad. It's so hard to remember Cian like that because there wasn't a lot of happiness for him at the end. And all the bad overshadows much of the good unfortunately. All the drama casts a shadow on the mundane.

Okay I've slapped myself and am moving on to happier thoughts. Summer is here in upstate NY. Paudie is playing soccer. Finally. What a scene it is watching 4-5 year olds try and do anything in a coordinated, organized manner. He loves it though. He was goalie in his first game and was lucky to have his stocky younger brother play the role of water boy and co-goalie.  All the other parents have adapted to Noel. That he thinks he's a player to and is often on the field during the game. And because he's more boy than I am mom, I can't really control him. John has been subsititute coaching for the past few games so I've been in charge of Elle and Noel which is where the issue comes in. I keep hoping P will make some friends with the younger kids who will be in his class in the fall but all he does is gravitate towards the older ones. But it's all good and we are starting to meet other parents. Now let's not get crazy here, I didn't say I was making friends - but it's a start. There should be a match.com type service for mom's like me. Shut ins.

We also joined the Genessee Country Museum last week. For anyone visiting upstate NY with kids, a must see. It's only 10 minutes from our house, one of those huge outdoor museums that make you feel you've stepped back in time. All the people who work there or waaaaaayyyy into it, living like it is the late 1800s. Going there was  a blast from the past for me - I'm sure I went there for a field trip every year of grade school. But it was great to be outdoors, doing something interesting and educational. Seeing how people lived in the time our house was built. John was outside working on the front walkway last week when the great grandson of the original builder/owner stopped by to chat. Love it. Told us a key reason he built here was to be close to the railway into Rochester. See, even 120 years ago it was all about the commute.

In other news, Princess Eloise is turning into a handful. I forgot how that happens at about 7 months. Amazing how when your brain thinks it's done with a piece of information, it just discards it. So it all came back to me this week. Fussy, loud, grabby, wants to go. At least she isn't crawling though, which Noel was at this age. My god we've been chasing him for a long time. I keep telling myself, it will all be a lot easier one year from now. Not that it's hard now, just so exhausting. Noel was up at 5 today, walked into our room, turned on the light. Then screeched like a maniac for another 30  minutes. Back up at 7:15 happy as Larry. Why doesn't he need sleep? Why can't he love sleep like his parents and other siblings do?

So that's the latest. I'd say Happy Fourth of July to all but everyone knows that it's a major bummer when the Fourth falls on a Weds.



How's the craic?

For those of you who don't know, craic (spelled wrong I'm sure) is an Irish term meaning something that doesn't easily translate to American English. I guess it's like something good, fun... Noel, pictured here with 3/5 dogs that we spent our time with in Ireland, would say the craic is good. Noel was in his glory. 10 days on a working farm with many animals and dangers. Many locks to be houdini-ed. Many dirty things to get all over his hands and clothes. I was so worried about the flight over and how he'd behave it never occurred to me that I should worry about the 240 hours we'd be there.

So yeah, the flight there? Piece of cake. Shocker, totally. Noel feel asleep as we took off and stayed that way for several hours. Eloise too. But then there was Abigail. The other 2 year old in our row. How do I know her name was Abigail? Because her mother said her name no less than 300 times. Abigail's seat. Abigail's juice. Oh Abigail. Abigail, stop that screaming. Ah Abigail. I never really counted on a different 2 year old being the cause of my flight annoyance. Well in fairness it was her mother.

So things that happened to Noel in Ireland: giant rock fell on his toe. Slipped in a pile of fresh cow poop. Grabbed and electric fence. Napped in a suitcase (open). Got stuck under a chair. Inspired cries of "where is Noel" 10X/day. Became obsessed with a yellow ball. As you can imagine, this was not a restful vacation for us. But it was great to see him have so much fun. Paudie was right there too. His cousins are all about soccer and it started to rub off on P, despite the fact that he makes up his own rules and is generally a poor loser. I think his cousins get a real laugh out of him because he's loud and bossy - typical yank. And a know it all. "Guys you want some chips? In America we call them FRENCH FRIES."

Eloise was her total princess self. I swear she didn't cry once the whole time we were gone. Slept great. She's such a joy.

So we did it. 3 small kids, 5 huge bags, 2 car seats, a stroller and 3 carry-ons. 6 hour flights and 3 hour drives from Dublin to Cork. No major illness or other issues. We ate lots of Irish meat and roulade. Even had us some Tim Hortons! Flying home I felt really accomplished despite the fact that Noel was in full tantrum mode. He was sitting with John in the row behind me and I just tried my best to tune him out.

This is probably like my tenth trip over and I never had jet lag. Well this time I had it for a week. Unreal how exhausted I was and Noel wouldn't sleep past 5 Am for days. Brutal zombie feeling. But a 3 day weekend helped. We celebrated Memorial Day by going to the Rochester parade and I remembered why that particular parade always sort of bothered me: elderly men wearing wool walking long distance in the heat. There were a few that CLEARLY should have been in an air conditioned vehicle waving. But no. So then I spent the whole parade worrying about them. Same reason I don't like to watch marathons.

Bring on Summer.

tick tock

My dad once told me, 'the older you are, the faster it goes.' It's hard to imagine time goes any faster than it is right now. It's also hard to believe that I'm looking 40 in the face. 40. When did that happen? I wish I could say that the three kids here are keeping me young and spry but the reality is I'm tired and cranky much of the time. In other ways I really don't feel older than let's say... 34. Mentally I feel about 16. The other night John and I were doing the math on Eloise. So when she's 21 we'll be... 60. My mom had me at 34 and in the 70's that was, you know, a change of age baby. So I grew up feeling like my parents were senior citizens because everyone else I knew had parents in their 30s. I used to cry and tell my mom, "I don't want you to die," and I'd say she was about 44 when I was having that anxiety. Oy.

Another quote about age that I like is, "you're as old as you've been but as young as you're going to be." I am trying to embrace my age and I am trying to take better care of myself so that I'm healthy for the kids - I will perservere over some pretty unfortunate DNA. For the past seven years I have been in some state of trying to get pregnant/pregnant/post-partum/nursing/grieving so it's been pretty easy to push aside my physical health. But now that I know we are done having kids, I know I need to get off my arse. I started back to the gym a few weeks ago and almost collapsed doing about 10 minutes of cardio. Shameful. But I'm sticking with it. Do it for the kids, that's my motto.

Speaking of the passage of time, Eloise is now 5 months. My three faithful readers will know that Cian was 5 months when he was diagnosed with cancer, seemingly out of the blue. So we did our usual 'peace of mind' belly scan this week for her. Nervewracking as always. I was telling John, I know we did this with Noel but I can't even remember. I guess my mind has decided to block that memory. So Eloise got the all clear. I was fairly certain she would - how is that for me getting lulled into a false sense of security? Eloise probably looks the most like Cian without the stunning blue eyes. But she's so different - she's the mellowest kid. Though Noel was a mellow kid and now he's super nanny material so who knows. She finally rolled over yesterday onto her tummy. Definitely our latest roller.

In a few weeks we will all get onto an airplane bound for Ireland. Or forced to make an emergency landing in Goose Bay Canada to have an unruly two year old and his family removed from the plane. I have so much anxiety about flying with Noel. Maybe part of me thinks if I really build it up and have all these worst case scenarios in my mind it will turn out to be really easy then I'll laugh at all of my angst. I so hope that is the case. We don't even take this kid to the store very often but we're going to try and buckle him into a seat for many hours. Hmmm. He hates TV so that will probaby not be a good distraction. He does like candy so that will be one strategy. Lots of fresh air before the flight, another strategy. Let's just hope he doesn't poop on the plane because that's a toxic situation compounded by his violent hatred of diaper changes. Normally when we are weeks out from this trip to see John's family I am well into the planning and packing - not this time. I can't mentally deal just yet - but it's happening so I better accept it. Today we got a notice from the airline so kindly offering us a business class upgrade for the mere cost of $655 per ticket. We wondered if they'd take Noel. He'd liven the place up. Stiffs.

Retreat damn germs

I've often heard tales of cold and flu seasons that beat families with small children into submission but had yet to experience this firsthand until last month. I knew we'd been lucky all these years but didn't realize how lucky until I experienced this cycle of illness myself. Wow. Sure the kids look happy there don't they? This must have been taken the one day last month when someone wasn't sick. We have been at the pediatrician's office on a weekly basis since February 18. We've had head colds, a staph infection, a viral/respiratory thang, stomach flu and pink eye. It's that little blonde thing on the right - he is the vector. And that cutie in the middle - she's like the magnet. Paudie just sort of squeaks by.

So yeah, germs. I started the month with a sinus infection and ended it with the stomach flu. Anyone that knows me well knows I am not a barfer. So any type of flu is makes me especially pathetic since I am completely unable to rid myself of the ick feeling. Luckily this did not set in until just after Paudie's Kindergarten screening. He was so excited to go last week. He bounced out of bed and then was angsting all morning about time - not being late. He did a great job and it was so fun to observe him interacting with teachers. I was the same way - so ready for Kindergarten. Bring on the learning!

The other big event around here was Noel turning 2 on Sunday. He is really making progress - no more bottle and no more crib. I really had my doubts about his ability to stay in bed, but he's been doing a pretty good job. He now has about 35 words in his vocabulary too, so that's finally starting to come along. Mind you he still likes to throw down a couple times a day and he still can drive our dog absolutely out of his mind with the pitch of his cry. You really gotta hear Banjo when Noel cries or whines. He sits up and starts howling at the top of his lungs - snout pointed straight in the air. Ow-ow-ow-owowwwwwwww. It'll make your ears practically bleed.

Eloise is now 4.5 months old and still a little darling. Seems to have a lot of Paudie traits - refuses to roll over, can bend into any shape to be able to view the TV. Need to get her going on food but like Paudie, not really into it. Tried cereal, tried peaches - blech.

Wow this is boring. I guess boring could be a good thing, right? I basically go to bed every night and say thanks to whomever for the boring-ness of our lives with the children. Sure I wish we were traveling the world and finding all these life experiences for the kids, but frankly I'm just so happy they are here and as far as we know at 12:26 PM on April 3rd, healthy. The bar is low my friends, the bar is low.

Beware the ides.

Yup it's mid-March. Six years ago I was struggling to adjust to being a new first time mom and having what I thought were only irrational thoughts about something happening to my precious baby. Hard to believe Cian would be six now. I often wonder, if Cian hadn't died, what would our family look like? Chances are we wouldn't have any of the three children we have now. Where would we be living? Probably not in this house. I could spend hours playing this game.

So it's March and it's about 70 degrees outside and I am choosing to be happy. Princess Eloise is 4 months old and a complete delight. We are out of the newborn phase and into the goofy, playful baby phase. Noel is starting to use words. We still have a ways to go, but he's starting to (I think) comprehend that we like to communicate with words. And then there is Paudie, this blog's namesake. We are registering P for kindergarten next week. That is huge. I can't believe he is going to be heading away on a school bus in the fall. Mind you I am currently looking out the window at his school so it will be a very short bus ride. He is pumped. And full of surprises. At his core Paudie is an introvert, like his mama. John would say he's an introvert too, but he's got nothing on me. So I take our little introvert to the playground on Sunday and immediately this big boy comes running over and wants to play. He's 7. Kids always think P is older than he is because he's tall so I caution the boy that Paudie is only 4 so don't expect too much/cut him some slack. So they play a bit and 7 year old moves on.

A little bit later 7 approaches to play a game of tackle football. I of course am like, oh dear, I don't think Paudie is really into football and then he shoots me the evil eye - I have clearly just embarressed my son for the first time. P runs off to play tackle football with a brawny 2nd grader - I am the referee. His mother is just sort of ignoring the whole thing and I am wondering, is this allowed? I hate these awkward parent moments. I am totally new at this and have no understanding of playground and playdate etiquette. So whatever the boys are running around and I think to myself, well at least he'll sleep soundly tonight. Then I turn back to see that P has the kid pinned to the ground. And is having the time of his life. Shocking. Our shy skinny kid is on top of the world playing tackle football. Not what I would have expected, not at all. I have always pegged P as a tennis player or golfer despite his big talk about hockey. Maybe he's a bruiser afterall.

And now he's getting ready for the kindergarten 'contest' as he calls it. NY has some sort of screening for kids to enter K - no idea what that all entails now - so P has been hitting the, um books, getting ready for the contest. His role as his mother's son is being solidified. I too was so excited to go to school. I can even vaguely remember going to my screening. I am so happy for him and hope his excitement doesn't wane or morph into fear in September. I actually saw the preliminary roster and there are only 36 kids on it. Yup, that's it. 36 total kids in his grade. I really think a small class size is going to be good for his introverted little self.

So there you have it on March 15, 2012. It's never an easy month but this unbelievable weather and our amazing kids have made this March a little more palatable.

hi. i'm princess buttercup eloise of scottsville.

Since it's almost March I figured it might be time to emerge from under the rock I've been living under for the last 14 weeks. On November 17 we welcomed a baby girl into the world. And despite the fact that I was a ball of anxiety and stress during the pregnancy due to our move, my age, inevitable PTSD... (not to mention a labor and delivery experience from hell), she is a placid, sweet and very happy baby. A peanut compared to her three brothers - she weighed in at 7 lbs 12 oz. And continues to be 'average' as opposed to ginormous. I'm hopeful that this means she won't be amazonian as an adult.

So a girl. Yep. I call her princess buttercup but she's really more of a rapunzel since she spends all day long in a bouncy seat perched atop of our kitchen island. It's safest for her there. The boys love her sooooo much. And don't they have funny ways of showing it. I know she needs much more floor and tummy time than she's been having so we must adjust that in the very near future. Every time the pediatrician asks about that we just sort of smile and shrug.

Finding out I was pregnant with her last year was pretty shocking and I kept fretting over 'what if' given I would be pushing 40 - then there was also my absolute hatred of sleep deprivation. I know that no one likes to be sleep deprived, but I am particularly bad at it. But somehow we've made it through the newborn phase. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't all that nightmarish ever. I was so focused on Elle being the cause of sleepless nights yet the reality turned out to be that she was a good sleeper from the beginning and it was Noel that kept us up most nights. A menace that boy is. A blonde hair, blue eyed, dimpled and gorgeous freaking menace.

I will say that at this point in my life, despite feeling haggard, sluggish and dumber than ever, I do feel some peace about a few things. I remember right after Cian died I hung onto the notion of rebuilding our family. Of picking myself up, fighting back and having more babies - not that anyone could ever replace him, but in order to give him a sort of legacy and to achieve parenthood yet again. And I said I'd ideally have three more, right in a row. While that proved to be a little more challenging than I'd hoped or expected, we got there. It still stings like hell that in just over a week Cian will not be here for his 6th birthday, but to have these three other beings is something very special. They bring us comfort.

And to have made the move to NY is also something else I feel very proud of, that we set our minds to something and executed. Aw look, a work word. As I turn 40 this year despite that number making me cringe, I feel accomplished on a number of fronts. Sure there is still work to be done, but I've come pretty far given the hand we were dealt.

So here we are, in our pink house with our pink barn, couple boys, little girl and howling dog. In one sense I feel satisfied. In another sense I am horrified by the world we've worked so hard to help populate. Does it completely puzzle anyone else, the level of dialogue we are at right now in this country? It's 2012, right? Or is it 1812? Everytime I hear some dude on TV talking about birth control I want to punch him in the face. Kids are dying of cancer. Kids are dying in war. As a society we are fatter and sicker than ever. Life is hard. But let's rehash issues that I thought were settled a couple of decades ago. Let's go backwards! Or let's get a moon colony going. Let's do anything but arrive at decisions and policy that improve our schools, our economy and our healthcare. When I was little I was semi-obsessed with the possibility of Iran or Russia bombing us. In my mind the bomb would land in our front yard. I can't even imagine what my kids will obsess about.

Okay enough from the soapbox.

the storm before the stormier storm

There they are, our little darlings working on a jack-o-lantern last week. Paudie is quite angry with his little bro - shocker. It's so hard to believe that this could be the last week of sanity for awhile. And it's hardly sane here. But two months into the move, I can say that I finally feel as if things are settling down. How naive of me to think we would have been settled before this point. Paudie just went through weeks of horrible separation anxiety - he still has his moments but he's starting to make friends and things are feeling more normal. I thought 4 was going to be like a totally awesome age and instead it has me banging my head against a wall. Paudie is such a contrarian. Everything is a battle. I hope it's just a phase and him dealing with a transition into schoolage. I don't know. Then there is Noel. The little devil/charmer. He is physically strong and strong willed. And loud. They are opposites. On Halloween Noel was a party animal and P a party pooper. Paudie ran away from every person who approached our door scared out of his mind. Noel meanwhile greeted everyone, hello and goodbye. 'Hiya' he's screaming on the porch meanwhile Paudie is rolled up into a ball on the couch watching some preschool cartoon of sorts.

Paudie hates to eat. Part of wonders, does this child have an eating disorder? He is skin and bones. We give him food and he just ignores it and Noel comes along and takes it off of him and eats it. They couldn't be more different.

This all makes me wonder what we are in store for. I found out I was pregnant back in mid-March and while I can't say it was a shock, it also wasn't entirely expected. Between anxiety around my 'advanced maternal age' and knowing we wanted to move, I really was able to turn my mind off from it for many months. Pretty strong denial that has carried me far. But 38 weeks in, it's pretty hard to deny. I am trying to savor the last few days and weeks here because this is definitely it. I can't believe this is a fourth baby for us. I feel like, well actually I have been, in some stage of pregnancy or post or trying for 7 years. This is an end of an era. While I have no idea how we are going to handle another child, I am at peace with how it worked out. I hate being on the fence and this pregnancy pushed us off of the fence. It also will be pushing me back into a darker place in terms of anxiety about the health of the baby. Hell even now when Paudie tells me his legs hurt it's all I can do not to think Wilms tumor. Sigh. That's what I worry about the most, going back into anxiety mode. The flashbacks to Cian's first few months of life and all of the trauma that came with being his mom and dad.

Funny how life works out. 5 years ago we lost Cian and here we are about to welcome his third younger sibling into the world. This is a path he set us on. If you'd told me five years ago we'd be here, I wouldn't have believed you. At that point I felt as if I'd fell down the side of a mountain and was standing next to it staring up to the top feeling like any chance of getting back up to the apex was slim to none. Thankfully I can't clearly recall the amazingly horrible feeling of losing our parenthood for a year, but I do try and go there whenever I feel overwhelmed by what we have.

There's safety in numbers, I guess that's become my parenting philosophy. So no matter how sleep deprived I am, or how rotten Paudie is to us, or how many times Noel tries to headlock new baby, this is a good thing for us. This is all a tribute to the little boy who so radically changed and touched our lives.

Live from Scottsville N-Y

Yup, I'm resurfacing. It's been almost two months I guess. Two obnoxcious, nutty months. I remember feeling right before we moved that there was light at the end of the tunnel for the stress. Hah. See, we had a difficult seller that we were buying from that was really complicating the overall process... a difficult lender that wouldn't close on a loan with asbestos wrapped pipes... then there was us doing the move mostly on our own to save money... I kept thinking, once all this is behind us it will get easier. But it really hasn't. It just got different. So we made it - got the loan closed, got our trailer empty and belongings in the house with the help of Larry, Darryl and his other brother Darryl, but then reality set in. No fence for weeks, no routine for the kids for weeks... it was pure chaos here. And me working from the turret in the meantime. We finally got going with preschool and daycare... and the kids hate it. Both of them can't seem to transition well. Someone is always crying.

Then there is the house. Our lovely pink Queen Victorian. So far we've had four gas leaks fixed. It's like everything in this house that has anything to do with gas had a gas line installed unprofessionally and not to code. Who spends gobs of money on a fancy kitchen (crazy seller) and neglects something as critical as the things that could blow the house up? But I think we have the gas issues behind us. Now John thinks we have chipmunk issues. He stayed up with croupy Noel last night and heard all sorts of noises that he couldn't tell where they were coming from, in or out. So that's the next project.

I know, I'm sounding very glass half empty. That's me. But if I try to take a step back, it hasn't all been bad. It's great living in a larger house in a nice community. We came from a small city with a growing drug problem and declining property values and now live in a small farming village where everyone knows everyone. It's kind of cute really. Quiet, safe, clean air. Kids had been sleeping so well (until all the separation anxiety set in, and croup) which we attributed to much more outdoor time and better air quality. So I don't regret the move, I just wish we could get our rhythym. I had hoped it would happen by now so I could spend the next few weeks more relaxed prior to the arrival of #4, but I guess for now I just try and cope with a few steps forward and one back. Everyone keeps telling me the kids WILL adjust. The crying and tantrums WILL stop. So I go with it. And at some point the boxes WILL be all unpacked. So I go with the power of positive thinking to whatever degree a pessimist like me can.

And did you notice that it's a week before Cian's 5 year anniversary and I'm only now mentioning it? Pretty good huh. We've certainly had a few awkward moments meeting people. Why is it when you're pregnant everyone must know what number baby it is? I try to answer the question honestly without making the asker feel too mortified. But it gets tricky especially when the questions persist. "So is this your first?" "Nope (smiling)." "Oh, your second." "Nope, we have two little boys at home." "Oh, so this is your third?" "Well, no, actually it's our fourth but our first is no longer with us, we lost him to cancer." Skidmarks.

I will try and post some pics but you know how I am about that, delinquent. Just wanted to say that we're here and we're okay for the most part. It's certainly been nice being out of the city, away from traffic and closer to my family. I just long for the day that I finally say, "we're settled." The last time I felt so very unsettled was when Cian was sick and after his death (which this pales in comparison to of course) but it does take me back to feeling like someone is sitting on my chest/wanting to jump out of my skin. Similar ick, different degree. It's just hard being type A and being trapped in like a type F environment.

Well we're moving on up...

For five years John and I have toyed with the idea of moving to upstate NY where I grew up. I actually still have a sticky note on my desk from the week that Cian was diagnosed with cancer - on it I was writing notes from our nanny about what he had eaten in her care while he wasn't feeling good (i.e., had cancer) as well as two zip codes in Rochester I wanted to check out. After Cian died we were left to rebuild our lives. Back to work we went and started our family again. The years just sort of ticked by. We worked, had more children, settled into our home and our routine here. But we always thought it would be nice to be closer to my family, in a reasonable housing market where we could get a larger home and some land in a good school district. Well this year we finally put our money, literally, where our mouths were. It's been a summer of angst and stress but it seems we are almost there. The vast majority of our house is packed into a large trailer in our driveway. New owners are preparing to move into the house that my husband basically rebuilt by hand. We are going to be closing on a historic Queen Victorian in a small village 15 minutes or so outside of Rochester. It's all really happening. Shocking. It's scary and invigorating at the same time. Is this the right thing to do? Will we like it there? How will we survive the winters? When I start to panic, as I often do, I look at Paudie and Noel and think of our dear Cian and calm down because this move is all about them. And if nothing else, it feels good to act on the fantasy. You think and you think about the things you might like to do and then one day turns into the next which turns into a month and then a year and there you are, in the same place. I feel accomplished that we set a goal for ourselves and seem to be on the path of accomplishment. I wonder what this new chapter will bring for us - in the matter of a few months we are going to settle into a new home in a village we really know little to nothing about, and then welcome another child into our lives. I feel like somehow Cian set this all into motion and when I feel pain over leaving the house that he lived in with us, I just remind myself that he's always with me, regardless of where I am. So that's it, I'll undoubtedly be out of touch for awhile as we try and settle in (shocker I know). Boston gave me the best (meeting my husband and our kids) and the worst (losing Cian) times of my life - can't wait to see what comes next... hopefully more than snow.

out of control

That's me todya's title refers to despite the photo of a frosting faced Noel. Okay so maybe it's me and the kids and the dog but mostly me. I can't believe it's been over a month since I last posted. The past month has been consummed by real estate transactions. Our house has an accepted offer and will no longer be ours on August 23rd. It happened really fast, which I think was a good thing because if my mind could have really processed what it all meant, I might have jammed on the breaks. it's so hard to leave a house in which I did so much growing up. When we moved in John and I weren't even married. It was the house he rebuilt. The house we brought our babies all home to. The house we wept in. But we are moving on to a new chapter in our lives. One that isn't fully defined yet, but hopefully will be soon. Real estate transactions really make me nuts. From dealing with so many people who claim to have your best interests at heart but really only have their own, to lack of timely response, to gobs of money changing hands... it's all so nervewracking. I feel so ignorant and it's so hard to rely on basic strangers helping me get from point a to point b. Then throw in two small kids on top of it all... and another on the way... and it's like, what were we thinking? But hopefully we're just in the thick of it and it is going to get a little easier, soon.

I've lived in Massachusetts for 17 years. I have no idea where the time went. That's verging on half my life. God I loved it so much here as a twentysomething. And now as a married mama it just grates on me. The traffic, the cost of living, the accents. But we also have the ocean, the sports and liberal idealism. It's all sort of like a metaphor for my time here, the best of times, the worst of times. But this was the plan we'd set out for ourselves even before Cian got sick and it became more crystalized after he died and we were blessed with more kids. Our lives are all about them, what's best for them, what is going to be as close to pony rides and space camp as we can give...

pinto bean quesadilla

Yes it's sad when all you can come up with as a posting subject line is your lunch because 1. it is making your office smell and 2. it is repeating on you. A PBQ always sounds like a good idea and even tastes like a good idea as it's going down but about 30 minutes later, grodiness. To the max.

So I've been out of touch for about a month. Things are hectic. For once instead of talking a big game about selling our house, we're actually taking the steps to sell our house so that has been pretty consuming. It's amazing all the little tasks you have to do to get some curb appeal going on. But we're almost there. We also had a trip to Rochester a few weeks back to spend some time with my family and take a look around the place. Paudie and Noel had a blast - they always do. The drive back was a little nightmarish, but it always is. Why can't there be some alternate form of transportation? Snap your fingers? Click your heels? Wiggle your nose? 7+ hours in a car with 2 kids and a dog = mental exhaustion.

Have no pictures to post of the kids, well any that are ours anyways. Found this one of P from his daycare's FB page - he has a knack for finding snails. His eyes look so big and dreamy and almost cartoon-like in the photo. And he kind of looks like my mom which is about right since he frequently acts like her. He scraped his knees yesterday at daycare. Not a peep about it until he didn't want to eat his dinner and then you'd think someone busted his kneecaps with a baseball bat. The tears, the drama. The limping. He's been regressing lately and we're finding it hard to handle. The more communicative Noel gets, the more reressive Paudie gets. I try to see it from his point of view - Noel gets to do a lot of messy, destructive things and Paudie does not. Well it's not like we let Noel or encourage Noel to be aggressive and bull-like, but that's how he's wired and he's still too young to know better. Unlike Paudie, which is unfortunate for Paudie. Noel is a real sweetheart though even if he is a pure thug. He is starting to do some sign language and more mimicking of us. Last night he pulled a kleenex out of the box and blew his nose like a pro. His obsession with the garbage and the bathroom - yes the two germiest places in our house - continues. Will really be good to get over that phase but I give it another month or two.

We've also been busy getting ready for John's Training Wheels bike ride for Jack's Magic Bean Fund. And by getting ready I mean fundraising - John has made it out on his bike once since the last ride, last year. And that was two nights ago for 6 miles. But I know he'll be find, he always is. Procrastinating really works for him. I'm so impressed with our fundraising progress, the support we've gotten from friends, family and many perfect strangers who are moved by our story and the mission of the group. Maybe next year I'll get my arse up on a bike and ride along.

So that's the last month in a nutshell. Some day I'll post some recent pics of the boys. I just uploaded like 400 of them off of our camera but they haven't made their way to Snapfish yet. I'm telling you, wireless 4G memory card!

all outta ideas

Ugh it's like almost the end of May. For the love of god, where does the time go. The last few weeks at work have been crazy. I feel like I never even get the chance to get outside for fresh air these days which I guess is fine since it's mostly raining out all the time anyways. But it's hard to be so busy all day - mainly lots of meetings which if you knew me better than my occasional musings on this blog you'd know I generally don't like to focibly interact with people. By the time I get home I feel so spent - who doesn't though. Whine whine whine. Make it stop!

Yeah so life is busy. Busy here, busy there. But kids are great. Noel is such a little scoundrel! He's also s sweet boy who loves to hug and literally does a little dance in his crib every morning when I open his door. He and Banjo are the morning people of our house. The rest of us? Brutal. I so fondly remember sleeping in until 12 or 1 in my teens and twenties. Agh, good times. Now I awake at 5:45 for no other reason than to think about to-do items. Grim. I don't know what would be more pathetic to 20 year old me, the fact that I get up at 6 even though I don't really have to, or the fact that I go to bed at 9:30 cos I can't stay awake past then. I would totally fit in at a retirement village - that's a lifestyle I could get on board with.

Paudie has been challenging us lately. Noel physically challenges us. He is still obsessed with our bathroom which has a pocket door on it that he can now easily open. And like his brother before him, it's really fun to put things in the toilet. This week: a cup and a spoon. The spoon then made it's way into th eclean utensil tray in the dishwasher. Conamination! The garbage can has also been moved since it's also just as fun to put non-trash items in there. He just doesn't stop and has Jason Bourne like intuition and skills. He'll be completely engrossed in a bottle laying down and it will occur to him that minutes earlier he didn't hear the stairway gate click shut. He will expolit your every exhaustion induced oversight.

Oh, sorry, I forgot it was Paudie I was about to whine about. Paudie. Can anyone out there help me understand pre-school little boys and how their minds work? He has a penchant for grossness. Licking his feet after we take off his grody socks, licking food off the kitchen table. Then there is the awful humor. Like he puts the word 'stinky' in front of nouns on a pretty frequent basis and cracks himself up. And he's insanely jealous of his little brother who he feels gets away with a lot more than he does. True enough. This isn't to say I don't love him dearly because for all his behaviors that I don't get or I'm aching to modify, there is the sweet little boy who came to the eye doctor with me this week to check out the machines and was as good as could be. A lot of people tell me it gets easier when they turn 4 so we'll see. It's just so hard when you know you have an amazing, bright kid on your hands but you only get to see that person for pieces at a time, on his own terms.

I really hope the sun finds its way to the east coast because there are a lot of us that would really, really, really like to leave our house. I think Banjo is going mental. 6 months is a long time to be basically stuck indoors. I actually spend energy fretting that the entire summer is going to be cool and rainy. My seasonal affective disorder can't take it much longer. I'm going to get scurvy. There now you know the only fact I have retained from middle school health class.

Oh, and if the rapture really is tomorrow, we're convinced our dog will eat us. Starting with John.

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.