I Am Going to Be a Grandma

Does that give you a little shock?

It's not so bad as all that.

While in Boston, Madelyn declared that there is a baby in her belly, and she'll get married when she's "taller, maybe five."

Our second full day in Boston was Tom's brother's wedding.  It was lovely.  Heartfelt.  Full of love and tears and laughter.  I learned that Tom's and Matt's faces show emotions the same way.  Beautiful.

Madelyn danced with her daddy at the wedding.  I didn't see because I was off with Fynnie somewhere.  The dance must have been something.

Later that day, Mana (as Fynnie and I now call her), reported that she had married herself during that magical dance.

Now she has 10 babies in her tummy.  Ask what she's having and she'll tell you, "A boy."

It's the new math.

Last week the girls and I were driving home.  Up, up, up to the top of the Cajon Pass before descending into the Mojave Desert, an SUV was stuck in the number three lane (third lane over, counting from the fast lane).  A very pregnant woman was standing on the shoulder, too close to the truck lane, trying to wave drivers away from her car.

I pulled over about a quarter mile up, picked up the pregnant woman's guy at the call box (a California godsend if you are out of cell range when an emergency happens) and drove in reverse back to his girl.  The plan was that I would get behind his car, let him out and have him steer while I pushed his vehicle off the 70 mile an hour highway.

I asked him to let the woman know I would be squeezing past her, because I didn't want to freak her out, this woman who was 39 weeks pregnant.  I just wanted her off the highway.

Just then a Highway Patrol officer pulled up, took over and sent me on my way.

As we drove away, Mana asked, "You didn't want to freak her out?"

"No!  She's going to have a baby very soon.  You do not freak out the pregnant lady!"

"I'm going to have the baby in my belly soon, too."

Fynnie, "I ha- baby soon, too!"

Mana, "Did you hear Fynnie say she's having a baby, too?!"

"I did."

"Well, she didn't marry herself!"

Is there really ever a wrong place to be a frog?

Chi-CAH-Go, Chi-CAH-Go, (I Don't Know The Words To This Song)

Historically, Tom and I do not do well on our trips into the great city of Chicago.  With the exception of our first trip, we have always ended up arguing or having some sort of drama.


Once it was because one too many people asked us about when we'd be getting married (we'd been together four years... it's not like they were rushing us).  I broached the subject later that night and we ended up having a painful argument that almost ended the relationship.


Another time we left our hotel in a northern suburb around 6:00 A.M. local time (4:00 to us) to meet up with his family for a shopping and art museum excursion.  We returned after midnight.  In between we'd stopped at Starbucks (in the wee hours of the morning) and had dinner after a four hour long discussion about where we should go for dinner (not joking here).  Tom's brother, Chris... the one who lives IN Chicago even asked me where I thought we should go (points to me for not stating the answer I had in mind).  This was about half an hour after my son was sitting in a department store, rhythmically banging his head on a shelf of books while everyone tried to think of a place that was still open.  I took him to the cafeteria and got him a burger and fries.  It was apparently not the experience anybody else wanted.  We ended up at a little place in "Greek Town" an hour later that makes pretty much every kind of fast food.  Several in our party had burgers and fries.


Last time my whole family got hit by salmonella poisoning two days before driving home.  We're pretty sure we got it from two places (one with peanut butter, the other with spinach), and we were pretty messed up through the whole drive back to California.  The worst thing was worrying about whether we'd have to take Mad to a hospital somewhere in New Mexico.  The second worst thing was Tom's... *deep cleansing breath*... demeanor... during the drive.  I believe that I called it cruel and unusual punishment at the time.  Sixteen months have passed and I stand by my statement.


So it was with some trepidation that I approached last weekend's trip.  To give ourselves a fighting chance of not fighting, I attempted to establish some boundaries and guidelines with Tom.


1.  We all need to eat... especially Mad (I strategically threw her name in since getting meals for the rest of us wasn't something Tom managed so well in the past).  However, unlike last year's trip to Vegas with your friends, we do not need to obsess over eating and mention it 30 times until everyone else is wondering if you... or I... have a tapeworm.  We just need to have at least two meals less than 16 hours apart  (Mad will need three).  A granola bar is not a meal.  Neither is juice.


2.  Mad will need to sleep.  She loves her nip-nappy-snip-snappy and we're not going to keep her from it.  Lucky for us she's flexible if she has to be, but if a meltdown is imminent, she's outta there!  Same goes for nigh-night.


3.  It's your family, and you should be at everything.  If Mad's acting up during Chris and Carol's wedding, I'll take her to a quieter place away from the action.  If her needs (or my own) aren't jibing with the festivities, just point me in the direction of the nearest El stop and tell me which train to get on.  We'll see you when you're done or when we can come back and have fun, too.


And guess what... it worked!  It helped that Mad magically and instantly adapted to Chicago time (okay, it didn't help us that first morning when she was up and grooving at what was 4:15 to us). 


Dinner that first night was at Quartino's, which I heard was excellent.  We all walked the mile or so to dinner only to find that Mad was about ready for bed.  So she and I chugged our way back to the hotel.  She ate the rest of my lunch for dinner and conked out almost immediately.  Since we were in the same room (and I'd been up since 2:00 AM my time), I conked out, too.  Tom and Corey came in a couple hours later with a salad and steak for me.  They spent a long time talking about all the dishes they'd had.


Just before we went down and hailed a cab to get to the wedding the next day, I put on a pair of heels.  Heels that I'd worn only two weeks before.  Heels that were now more snug than I would have liked.  I figured we'd be seated most of the day, so I didn't sweat it.


During the wedding, which was on a boat*, Mad and I ended up hanging out inside with the captain.  It was too cold to forego her big coat and having the life vest on over it did not make her happy. 

Bubbles, however, did.  (No, we're not Amish.  Tom just likes to shave like he is.)

After the cruise ended, we hopped into cabs and headed for this amazing restaurant, The Publican.  Corey went with Tom's parents.  Tom mentioned that he hadn't remembered to get the monetary gift we'd been planning to put in a card for his brother and Carol, so we stopped at the first bank the cabbie saw.  Tom's card was declined.  He called the bank and was told there was no hold on our account.  Tom mentioned that we were out of town and that he was trying to make a more sizable withdrawal than we usually do, but that didn't phase the service rep.  Tom figured it must be the ATM.  He hopped back in and we headed to the restaurant.  Since the bride and groom hadn't arrived, we decided to walk to find a working ATM.

Second ATM... four or five blocks away, his card was declined.  Mine wasn't even recognized.

Third ATM... two more blocks away... is inside an enclosed lobby (thank you for small blessings... Mad could run around safely).  Both of our cards were declined.  Tom reached for his phone, but I said I'd call instead.  He laughed and says they should have just worked it out with him when they had the chance.

After being told that A) there is no hold or other problem B) I've input my pin number incorrectly and C) there is no problem on their end, I explained that A) we are 2200 miles from home B) I've had my husband verify that I did it correctly and C) I am not getting off the phone until I have cash in hand.

Somewhere along the line the guy decided to send me to the fraud department.  Lo and behold we were flagged because of being out of town and attempting to make a rather sizable withdrawal compared to the paltry sums we usually request.  He reset my card.  I made the withdrawal and then had him fix Tom's card, too.

So we had money for the gift, but no card.  We schlepped up one more block to a grocery store, bought a card and a coloring book with crayons for Mad, and hobbled back to the restaurant.  Our excursion since the boat probably took an hour, but we arrived at the same time as the bride and groom, so it worked out.

Dinner was excellent.  Some six courses before the main dish.  A few things I've only heard about through Top Chef.  Each item was presented with it's name and place of origin, from local farms to faraway lands.

Mad's meltdown began just after the main course arrived.  I packed her up and said our goodbyes.  Corey decided to come with us.  It turns out he felt he had better leave because he was eating too much.  Dude missed out on dessert, a "white chocolate cremeaux with rhubarb and candied walnuts."  Tom enjoyed it for him.

In the cab on the way back to the hotel, Mad leaned back and stared at the lights.  As soon as she walked in she wanted her "nap."  I managed to get her dress, pants and one sock off, change the diaper and get some bottoms on her.  She slept in the shirt she wore under the dress.

... until 8:30 local time the next morning.

That's probably more than enough for one post, so I continue the story next time.


*I'm sorry, but if your "boat" has four levels, three bedrooms and two living areas and holds 100 people... that's a yacht to me.  But what do I know?

Fear and Loathing

Friday morning we leave for Chicago.  On a plane.  I have flown a lot.  I am not a good flyer.  Visions of planes crashing fill my days and nights before a trip is complete.  I will make my best good flyer faces and exercise my deep breathing abilities so as not to scare Mad or alert the TSA (who am I kidding?  I am always selected for additional screening... once, while wearing very short sleeves, my arms were double wanded... "Uh, yeah, they are not any more flammable than my ass.  Can we move on, please?").  In trying to find the upside of flying, the most commonly recurring thought is (and I'm not kidding about this), at least if we crash, we'll all die together.  But how will we be sitting.  Will I be able to reach Corey and Madelyn and Tom in those final moments?  I do not want to die and I don't want my family to die.


So I try to put my neurosis aside (and maybe that stupid heartburn will ease up if I can), and think about the trip, which is to witness one of my quite nice brothers-in-law getting married to a lovely woman.


I have mixed feelings about this trip.  I'm excited to see Tom's family; they are a fabulous bunch.  It's extra cool that his parents have chosen to get a room at the same hotel where we're staying (as opposed to staying at their house 45 minutes away).  They are thinkers, those two.  All of the activities sound fun, exciting, joyful and pleasant.


Except that they are scheduled for Mad's naptime, Mad's dinnertime or Mad's bedtime.


Now some of those dinnertime events are, in fact, dinners.  But knowing the family, it's highly unlikely we'll be eating then.  In the past few days it has occurred to me that I will be seeing a lot of the inside of our hotel room.  This will probably be preferable to seeing what that fancy restaurant is like.  I've never been to a place that doesn't have highchairs somewhere.  With Mad on my lap I will likely only see what she's just gotten hold of, where the knives are located (to move them away, thereby probably signaling waiters that I'm done before we start), the bathroom and the exit. 


Continuing to look for the positives, I say to myself that it's better to see the inside of a hotel than the outside of an airplane.

We Interrupt This Story For a Trip to Vegas

Yeah, baby, yeah! A trip to Vegas with Tom's best friend, Joel and his wife, Sharon. Joel's sister and brother-in-law, Karen and Bob (?... Bill? I really should know this since we're back), rounded out the group.

We were both pretty excited to be having our first overnight trip without children since being pregnant. Neither of us could wait!!

Okay, really the conversations went more like this:

(A week before the mini vacay) "What do you mean you paid for it now instead of just making a reservation?!? I paid extra bills this week so we'll be free and clear next week."

(Two days before) "They're not leaving Vegas until that afternoon?! So what time do you see us leaving? Two or three?!?!?! We'll be driving all night!!

Ugh! I can be so freaking whiney.

(The day before) "Listen, I know I'm turning into some sort of cranky old person and it's gotta stop. We can stay until they're at the airport. I mean, really, how often do these chances come up? Right?"

Thank god I can pull it together in a pinch.

One thing I'd used in my arguments for moving to this area is that we are 45 minutes closer to Vegas. Of course that's a damn lie if the grandparents are watching the kids and the dog at two separate houses back down the hill. In reality, we are an additional hour and a half away from Vegas. Thursday morning Tom and I were up well before the butt-crack of dawn and halfway down the hill before daylight. Kids and puppy were dropped off, the car was fueled up and away we went.

We had conversations (yeah... with an S) almost the whole way up. Tom had loaded up some CDs to listen to and we didn't even put one in until we hit state line. And then the one he chose was something he'd brought of mine!

The room was great, the bed was comfortable, the view was of the pool and Eiffel Tower at the Paris. Sharon and Joel were lots of fun. Everything was all hoohoolala until we met up with Karen and Bob (I'm going with Bob unless I hear otherwise). Seriousness presides over the blackjack table, dontcha know.

I'm not a gambler, and paying for the room in advance really did a number on our finances because of the bills I'd also paid, so throwing money at a game I rarely play isn't my gig. But I did have a great time hanging out with Tom and Joel. There wasn't a lot of conversation, and I didn't want to start any and ruin someone's concentration. Sharon was off playing slots and Bob (?) was doing his own thing.

Karen seemed okay at first, but then it turned out that almost every time I said or did anything, she sneered. Talk about a killjoy. I even took a picture of the group as we waited to go upstairs for dinner and she sneered then, too. It's photographic evidence, but I'd rather be able to wonder if I was imagining things. I understand making judgements about people and that we all get to choose our friends, etc. But what the hell? Have a little class; at least try to be subtle! Tom says that Karen doesn't seem to get him either, and that Karen and Joel's mom always gives the sense of disapproval or disappointment.

And what's with stating that "dinner will be casual, right? No getting dressed up," (exactly... we're going to Margaritaville) and then going up to her room and putting on a shiny blouse and heels?!? Tom said, "Maybe she didn't think she was dressed up."

Oh please. She's a woman. She knows the rules!

I was telling my sign class about her and gave her a name sign that clearly demonstrated my thoughts about her. The topic of that segment was "people who irritate you." Next week we'll balance things out by talking about people who enrich us. The anti-Karens, if you will.

Aside from Karen, the trip was a lot of fun. No, we didn't win any money; we lost it, but no more than we'd allotted. Madelyn got a cool train made of wooden blocks from FAO Schwarz (outlet?... not sure, but I was kind of disappointed in the selection) and Corey got an outfit from the Gap. The parents got thank yous in the form of candles and bath stuff. Can you tell I'm not really into the tourist crap? Happy me that Sharon loves to shop more than she loves to play the slots.

The trip home was equally fabulous. Tom and I have decided that I should drive to our vacations (when I'm all perky) and he should drive home (when he's trying to delay the inevitable). It worked really well.

Saturday evening we went out to City of Hope to see Ken. I figured I'd go alone, but Tom wanted to go, too, so we all went after Mad's (latest ending) nap (ever! naturally). He was readmitted about 10 days ago. In the span of less than 24 hours the leukemia was deemed to be present again (along with pneumonia) and had gone from 10% to 17%. His white cells are at 1 (I believe that means 1000, with normal being 140,000). The course of action now is comfort and finding a non-home hospice service.

Most of our hospices here are in-home. Nance has already cared for her mother-in-law through her death from cancer and neither she or Ken are especially eager to make her go through it again.

Their son is recently engaged and planning an August wedding. The doctor has asked the family to consider moving the date up. In the meantime, a commitment ceremony will be held on Father's Day at the hospital.

Is there any good news? Well, for some reason, Ken looks really great. He's gained 15 pounds since being there. Nance said it's because of IV fluids and steroids, and that it's harder to reconcile the fact that he might not be here in two weeks to a month because of how good he looks. Yeah, he's weak and shaky, but he sounds like himself. And his goatee is growing in dark instead of white like it would have before the chemo. So in a weird way, he looks younger, not at all old and gaunt like I'd expected.

Part of me... an embarrassingly large part... seems to be emotionally sheltered. I guess this is what denial feels like.

I have to say that I'm proud of Corey for going up to visit Ken. Madelyn couldn't even be on that floor. Tom and I figured we'd take turns hanging out with the kids, but Corey went up with me and even spoke!

Rounding out our weekend, we went and saw Rent last night. My niece performed with her high school drama group. It was closing night and everybody'd been fighting something, from fever and nausea to sore throats. Sarah and her classmates did an amazing job. There were one or two times when it seemed apparent that someone's voice might not make it, but they always recovered. I am not being biased when I say that Sarah was one of the best, most consistent performers. The play was very well done... I really did laugh and cry. Twice. And I wasn't alone.

And it wasn't the sort of crying Corey used to do when I'd try to sing him to sleep, "No song, wahhh!" I'd switch to humming and get a sobbing, "No hmm-hmm!!" It's clear that Sara does not get her voice from me, lucky girl. If I get any videos, I'll post them here. I took several photos with my expensive camera that I can't stand (the feelings are mutual, trust me). Almost all are blurry.


We were all curious about how "bad" the play would be, considering the subject matter. The only negative that any of us came up with was from Corey, "I couldn't watch Sarah dance like that. I had to avert my eyes." Honestly, I'm not sure what he was talking about. It wasn't like plays at my high school, but it wasn't outside the bounds of decency to me.

I know. Look who's talking.

So, many late nights and lots of highs and lows. But it was a good weekend. I wish it could have gone on a little longer.