See, I give him cupcakes....

Isaiah and his itchy, bumpy self. This was taken in June when we were in Rhode Island. I discovered these cupcakes at my favorite of favorite places - Whole Foods, or as my sister-in-law calls it, Whole Paycheck. She ain't lying. For the last 2 weeks, we've had Isaiah on a very strict diet - in stick I mean, mostly hotdogs and soy milk, why? Well because those are about the only two things that are NOT processed in plants that also process nuts or diary. After over a month of agonizing visits to the fourth allergist we've determined Isaiah is allergic to dairy, eggs, nuts, which we knew. We did not know he was also allergic to mushrooms, mustard, pineapple (which is used to sweeten everything natural,) corn (which is used in everything also,) oats (something we used to rely on for a basic breakfast.) Oat flour is also in a lot of stuff including most lotions since it can be calming on everybody but Isaiah. He's also allergic to sweet potato, salmon, sunflower which is a natural oil that is in a lot of items you'd never expect, but in about every dry snack from animal cookies, to chips and oh, a few other things. There is a list on the refrigerator that lists everything Isaiah can eat and it fits on an index card. The list of the things he can't have is short and sweet and has the 10 or 12 items I mentioned above and a note that says, *DON'T FEED ISAIAH ANYTHING FROM OUTSIDE THIS HOUSE. When we go to Lego Land or Playgroup, I watch him like my life depends on it - even a bite of something seemingly innocent could throw this month's trial off. The goal of this month is food elimination - so we can figure out what else other than diary, eggs and nuts he should stay away from. But so far, as I suspected, his skin isn't any better. In fact the day he started his diet he contracted some viral rash that covered his body with hundreds of tiny itchy bumps. Nothing relieved the itching except a very strong steroid - which I held off giving him for a week until I just could take all the blood in his crib and on his clothes from his scratching. He's finally doing better and we are all relieved, I just wish he didn't have these allergies. It helps to remind myself that of all the difficult issues that children can have, this is one that I can handle. It's a pain in the butt and most people don't understand how serious I am until I explain - if he has peanuts he could be dead in 2 minutes - that sort of gets folks to pay attention. But this is the least of so many evils.

Big Nana

I've had some memory problems, both in life and with my computer. I finally got it sorted out. These were taken when my mom and I took the kids to Rhode Island for my cousin's wedding. These were taken at the home where my mom grew up. I wish I could write, in detail, what this day was like but so many things have happened since then. Nothing big or momentous, well maybe a few momentous things, but mostly just a lot of trips to pick Noah up from school. I've been to Trader Joe's and Whole Foods about six times each. There's been doctor's appointments, a trip to Washington State for a girl's trip and a bunch of meetings with contractors and our architect as well as endless phone calls catching up with old friends ala Face Book or supporting friends in need. Yesterday I had a police officer, two guys delivering a mattresses and box spring, a woman picking up the old mattress and box spring, my neighborhood workout, the guy washing our cars and getting Noah off to school all in the span of an hour. I feel most days I don't know who is ringing my doorbell or calling me, emailing me or texting me and am afraid of what they need and dread the amount of time and energy it's going to take to get them what they want or need. With all the help from friends, family and our nanny, I still could use a personal assistant. Up until now I'd been outside measuring space and researching storage sheds and planning on laying concrete and a day to clean out the garage. The good life is good - but it takes a lot of behind the scenes stuff to keep it in place and pretty.

Adam Henry

On Wednesday we lost a very dear friend, Adam Henry. Adam was more than a friend; he was Broderick’s brother. And not a brother for which fate connected him to, but the type of brother he found and kept for 23 years. The ancient Greeks believed that the most pure relationship is friendship. Real friendship is the only occasion when two people come together for no other reason than because they enjoy each other. We are made by design to procreate. Spouses and children bring us great joy, but family is a necessary relationship. When we find true friends we bring them into our life as an indulgence. Aristotle believed in perfection, friendship cannot subsist without perfect mutual knowledge, and only between the good; hence it is not possible for anyone to have many real friends. Adam, Jimmy and John share in Broderick’s mutual knowledge. It’s taken seven years of being with Broderick to believe the loyalty he has between his brothers. Which is why Adam’s passing is going to be as hard on Broderick as a loss can be. I am also lucky enough to call Adam my friend. He is my favorite (sorry fellas,) probably because he didn’t yet have a wife or children and could spend the kind of time on the phone, on the porch or over a New York dinner that other men can’t. Yesterday I thought I had got most of the sadness out, but then tonight it curled back up inside me. I think pain, the kind that comes from loss, comes in like waves. There are moments in the day when I’m not thinking about Adam at all, and then he slowly comes back to mind and then it’s like I just remember, as if I’d forgot, that he’s gone. Sometimes I’m okay with knowing he’s gone, but those are usually the times when I’m in disbelief or denial. And then when it really dawns on me that he’s gone and I realize Jimmy and Broderick have lost a part of themselves without any warning I get so sad I need to sneak off and let it all out. I cry because I miss him, but I cry also because we all miss him. I cry because if it hurts me this bad and I’ve only known this good man for seven years how must it feel to his father, how must it feel to Jimmy and Broderick? And although Adam had a full life, by his own design, I still want him here not so much because he missed out on any of life’s pleasures, because he didn’t. I want him back out of greed for the joy he bought to our lives.

Last night when I was feeling a little too sad about Adam’s death I started to convince myself that the last few days hadn’t happened, instead I flash forward to Adam living in South Africa with Rania. He has built his life there and Broderick and I just aren’t in as good of touch anymore. It feels better than imaging our life without him. In the deepest sense that’s where I think his spirit is now. Adam was brave enough, in life, to do what we wanted so I imagine now with all the powers of his spirit he is doing exactly what he wants. He was a great friend to a lot of people. His Facebook page has posts from people all over the world wishing him a peaceful transition.

On Wednesday night after I had put the kids to bed Broderick called with an update. The news I was expecting was something like a new kind of treatment or a rough road ahead that would lead us back, like it always did, to a healthy Adam. What Broderick told me instead was that he would die in 24 hours. I had to ask him, “Did you say 24 hours?” Even after he told me twice I thought I had heard wrong. In the middle of this conversation with tears rolling down my face Noah walked in my room. She was scared to see me so sad and within a few seconds was crying herself. She asked me was I was crying and I told her it was because I was lucky enough to really love a good person. That calmed her down, and as she took some purple flowers from a vase in my room to give to me she said, “Mommy you have everything you need in your heart. You only need two things. You need God and you need a tissue."

Happy Mother's Day - A letter to my girlfriend who isn't sure if she can do it

Motherhood.

Yes, you can do it. You of all people can do it because you’re kind, full of life and truth. It’s not easy and if you do it you have to constantly be working and reworking life (you) to stay sane. It will also force you to decide what type of mother you want to be and deal with who your mother is to you. The great truth is that you can be any type of mother you want to be. The only rule, other than feeding them and keeping them out of the street and away from MTV, is to be happy. The most important thing you can do for your children is be happy and let them see the truth of the days when you’re not. My kids see me cry, they’ve seen me get so upset that I’ve had to take a time out myself and go into my room and calm down. Having the kids around gives me the strength to go the extra mile to fight fair with my husband or the asshole trying to merge on the freeway. It’s easy to be a jerk to your spouse when no one is watching, but when you realize you’re teaching them how to argue, cope and behave you get your act straight a lot faster than you would have otherwise. You can be lazy and not shave your legs but you just aren’t lazy anymore with the important stuff. But sometimes you won’t do it right and you’ll feel so guilty for yelling or having to have resorted to spanking (the kids, not the husband) and then you learn the lesson of forgiveness. At the end of the day if I feel like I have been honest with Noah and Isaiah and treated myself right, than I know I’ve done a good job. Jenny McCarthy in all her infinite wisdom said her biggest mommy ahah moment was that all her son needed from her was to just be. They don’t need organic food, they don’t need the best preschool, the best blah, blah, blah. What they need is you; Just you to sit and see them and be with them in a moment. And those moments are what make everything worth it, so worth it you might consider chasing the high with another baby. And I often feel like an alcoholic, not because I sometimes depend on wine to ease me into the moment and out of my to-do list, but because the way I survive is to take “it” one day at a time. If I look at the week and count all the diapers, and baths, and time outs and sibling rivalry, I’ll get overwhelmed and start fantasizing about running away with gypsies. But I haven’t run away yet and although my hands look like they’re 20 years older than I am because of constant washing, I’m the best me I’ve ever been. I’ve also developed these flat, wide, duck feet from being barefoot with the kids all the time, not so sexy but I have better balance. But as usual, I digress. Mothering forces you to look at yourself and get rid of the shit you don’t want to pass on to your children, since you can’t be prefect (although I sometimes almost kill myself trying) you also accept the stuff about you that is really okay like disarray and the occasional fast-food meal or that I have a ton of real issues that will probably go with me to the grave. In my greatest moments of clarity, which don’t come often, I see myself as perfect because of all my flaws and a better mom and person because of them. Mothering will make you aware of everything except where you left your keys or if you brushed your teeth yet today. You just start getting “it.” And some days it’s just a cliché but other days I feel it in my bones and the “it” is that all that matters is your family. Being a mom is the bullshit cold turkey. When you have a baby, a child, you don’t have the time or energy for bullshit. You can’t and won’t deal with the drama of girlfriends or family. None of the drama is that important anymore, and when you are faced with real issues like the reality of childhood diseases, predators and all the other million things that will keep you awake at night you have very little tolerance for bullshit whether is someone else’s or your own. I used to be so concerned about what other people were doing. Now I spend all that mental energy and time on the two people I brought into this world, not because I’m so enlightened, but because I have to.

There’s a quote I love that says something like, the decision to have a child is momentous, it’s like deciding to walk forever with your heart on the outside of your chest. Being a mom will make you so vulnerable and whenever a child is hurt or in need it will break you’re heart wide open. Oprah becomes harder to watch and injustice will frustrate you more than you could imagine. You’ll be more patient with the mother on the plane with the crying baby and want to run back there and help her. You do get an all access pass to a special group of woman. I was a judgmental little wench before Noah and Isaiah, and I still have a way to go, but I can step in other people’s shoes so much easier than before babies. I’ve realized all of us, especially mothers, are doing the best we can and the last thing we need is someone judging us. I can’t express in words how difficult “it” can be at times. In fact no one has any real idea of how hard it is until they’re right in the middle of it and it’s way too late to change their mind. Pregnancy is hard, labor is insane and parenting is the toughest thing anyone could ever do. I say parenting, but I really mean mothering. Mothers have more support from our husbands than we’ve ever had. We’ve lost a lot of community support that we used to get from family and friends. But you’d be a fool to believe that having a child with a man is 50/50. If you’re lucky and work everyday to motivate you may aspire for 80/20. Every day is a mental marathon that pushes you to your furthest limits just to prove to yourself that you can handle anything, and you can. I used to think the reason to have children was to send my love and ideals into the future, but I don’t feel like that so much anymore. I think having a child or children is a tool that God uses to fine-tune all my mess. Sanity was second nature to me before, but these days I have to work hard to not disappear, to drink enough water, to remember to eat, to not feel like an idiot around working women and to remember we’re just here to love and be loved. I’ve also realized that no matter how much we think we love our mothers it’s a drop of water in the ocean of love they have for us.

So, you can do it and you’ll struggle but you’ll grow and you’ll make friends who you think will make the struggle easier and then shake them because you were wrong. Then you’ll make new friends or reconnect with old ones. You’ll start floating through life a lot less concerned where you’ll end you and focus instead on the scenery. You’ll find your groove only to have them grow out of whatever stage was driving you nuts into something else equally as challenging. You’ll read books, you’ll hire help and if you decide to do it alone, you’ll hire a lot of help. You’ll write and continue being you because that’s the best example for any little girl or boy is to see their mom be a kick ass woman living her dream. You’ll be great and when you think you’re not (which you will, we all do,) you’ll call one of the club members and cry and moan and we’ll tell you you’re crazy, you’re the best mom ever.

Giddy Up

On the way back from new Mexico I was dog sick and barfin' my brains out on the plane ride back to LA. We got in the car and I was wedged in between both the kids strapped into their car seats. Barfing into a barf bag from the plane while I was shaking and crying I heard a little voice say, "Mommy?" I looked at Noah and said, "yes?" She asked, "Is any of that getting on me?"

The Honey Bee Himself

Noah has never asked to go to bed, NEVER. But Isaiah is a different little seed. If it's after 8:30, he'll start pointing to his bed and saying, "crib" or "bed." He sleeps so well... well up until 5:30 and then he says "mommy" in a slow whine about 300 times until we get him up. We try to be firm and let him stay in the crib (unless he starts screaming) until 6 or 6:30 - and I often shut the door and put the pillow over my head (the heaviest pillow) but it doesn't work. I still hear him and feel a deep itching guilt in my stomach even though.. even though I know it's what we're supposed to do. So needless to say I rarely sleep past 6am and when I do wake up at 6am by force of habit and he isn't yet awake I keep peering in to make sure he's breathing or there or whatever other crazy thoughts I have as a worried mommy. How do you shake that worry? I'd love to not worry so much... if it turns out I'm crazy (which could be possible) then it would be crazy with worry over my kids. I don't worry about money or the value of our home (which sucks) I worry about these lunatics that i love with every cell of my body. I worry about their well being, their safetly, and their sense of self.

Gratitude

"If the only prayer you ever say in your whole life is 'Thank You,' that would suffice." - Eckhart

Today I am thankful for:

1. Having done yoga, the doing is the hard part - the having done is the best part.
2. Seeing Noah in her ballet tutu and slippers.
3. Isaiah's long afternoon naps
4. Our beautiful backyard, our beautiful, beautiful backyard
5. The left over chocolate cupcake that I'm fixin' to eat right this minute!