We officially have less than one week left of January, and thank goodness for that. This month has gone fast enough, I guess, but we've definitely gotten into that time where winter starts to seem endless and everything is just a bit blah. This seems to be a thing for me now, at this time of year specifically, and I've generally blamed it on being off work in the winter two out of three years a while back--once for maternity leave, and once when I lost my job. Part of me feels like my body just got used to being able to hole up in the house in the winter and cocoon whenever I felt like it. I think there's probably more to it than that, but that seems to be what I long for the most.
I'm starting to think this is some form of Seasonal Affective Disorder. Not a severe one, to be clear, but it makes sense. We're in the depths of the dark winter, as only in the last couple weeks have we seen even a glimpse of daylight during the evening commute for the first time in months. But mornings are still so dark, and no joke, every morning when I wake up I sort of want to cry and whine a bit because I just don't want to get up. Look, I know I need to go to bed earlier, but when you crave your alone time without the kids, you tend to stretch it as long as possible. But even still, it goes deeper than just being tired. There is some inkling of hopelessness when I wake up and see that it's time to consider getting up, and lately I just have an even harder time doing it. I want to stay in bed, snuggle in, and rest. Ironically, when I get to do that on weekends, usually I end up feeling even more sluggish when I finally do get up, but still...it's my first instinct.
I know mornings aren't the easiest around our house, particularly until Jacob's medicine has kicked in, but I hesitate to think that's the main culprit. So, then maybe it's my job, but that's confusing to me as well. I like my job. I don't have any specific complaints about it. I'm grateful for it. But man, I just don't want to go. Lately I'm also really distracted while I'm there. I'm going to guess the latter issue is more of a sleep deprivation thing, but I literally cannot figure out why I'm feeling like this. Is it because I'm burned out and need a real vacation? Maybe, since I never did take a full week off last year. Many short breaks are good, but I'm thinking there's probably something about a long break that's a bit more rejuvenating. I don't know if I want to drag in the whole "Craig and I need an 'us time' vacation" issue here, but I suppose the lack of said bonding time could be bringing down my general mood overall. On the bright side, the kids have slowly begun to learn to play together, so the constant stream of trouble has slowed a bit (at least in phases), but we still have frequent flare-ups and I don't trust them to not be jerks if we leave them with family while we go on a trip. So that's an issue. But is it really all of that?
Some days I think it's just mom guilt. Almost every day Carter begs to stay home. Much like me, I don't think he actually hates daycare. He learns a ton and generally seems to enjoy what he's doing there. I mean, he'll complain about stuff, but sometimes I think he just wants something to complain about. His teachers generally have great things to say about him, and he often doesn't want to leave when I pick him up, so I don't think anything is truly amiss. But like me, he just doesn't want to go. He wants to hole up at home and hang out. We're doing that Wednesday, by the way, since I had a day to take and I had promised him a Carter-Mommy day this month. But whether we have one scheduled or not, he asks for it almost every single day. We talk about why we can't do it all the time. Then he gives me a big hug and kiss when I leave, and of course I'd much rather take him home and get that treatment all day. But I can't. Subconsciously I probably know his little kid time is extremely limited and I want to take advantage while I can, but clearly that's not happening. But every day is a struggle to leave him.
I just feel like getting through each workday is a means to an end. Even though evenings in our house are far from harmonious, I know that evenings are my chance to relax and do something I'd much rather be doing. So, I just push through the workday waiting for 5pm, push through pickup, dinner, and bedtime, then savor each bit of freedom I have after that. That's probably why I wish away my weeks, just hoping for the weekend where I can get it in slightly larger quantities. I know I shouldn't (the kids are growing up fast enough, after all), but I do. One of the things that stood out most to me when I was off work was that the efforts I made all day directly helped the people that were closest to me, and that felt so much better somehow. I didn't mind doing errands and cleaning because I had the time and it all felt like a direct benefit to everyone in the house. I had time to think through problems and fix them properly. Even better, I could actually do something for myself on a regular basis. Nowadays it's just about cramming in whatever I have the energy for. Speaking of which, it probably doesn't help that I haven't felt 100% since around October, so maybe that's a contributor, too.
I think I've also identified that one of my biggest issues right now is that I don't have anything big to look forward to. It seems like most people have a trip planned, or some big event, or even weekly or every-other-week outings (maybe with friends or a spouse) that keep them going. It's like the carrot on the end of the stick, you know? But I don't really feel like we have anything like that right now. We don't have a social life, we don't travel for fun, and I often wonder how we'd do anything anyway because I'm always exhausted and feel guilty when I do finally have something going on. Without anything like that, though, every day is just another day among endless days, rather than being one day closer to something good. Even worse, without a "good" target, what if it's another day closer to something bad? With the flu epidemic lately and lots of other bad news, I just feel like I'm obsessing over the bad possibilities and don't have anything good to outshine them. It's exhausting.
Ultimately I just feel like my body and my heart are pulling me home. It worries me that this is some sort of unseen, unknown force that's a precursor to something, but maybe I'm just plain lazy. I don't know. I'm hoping that things will get better as we get into February. My work flow will change again (more urgent deadlines, so maybe that will force me to focus), Valentine's Day and Carter's birthday will be in sight, and we'll be getting more daylight. It looks like the weather might turn colder again, though, so that will be a struggle again. But for now I'm just stuck in a rut and spring (and some fun) needs to hurry up!
Saturday, January 27, 2018
Monday, January 22, 2018
News and Notes, Funeral Edition
OK, so this is more about the funeral weekend than a usual "News and Notes" post, but I'll touch on a lot of random thoughts and experiences from the weekend, so it'll probably end up as all over the place as one of those normally is. As expected, it was an interesting few days back home for my uncle's funeral. I spent most of Wednesday evening while I was home alone with the kids trying to pack and make notes for Craig for the time I'd be gone. I was leaving a day ahead, so I had a lot to prepare. If I was going to be MIA for a couple busy days, I knew I needed some backup. I had packed up Carter but I still needed to leave a list of things that needed to happen (like Jacob's 8am dentist appointment on Friday) or things that the kids still needed (like Jacob's snow gear for a snow play day at school or the last few toiletry items that would need last-minute packing). In the middle of all that, my mom let me know that my dad had a stomach bug, so he'd probably be missing most of the funeral events. That, of course, put me into panic mode that we'd catch whatever he had while we stayed there. Luckily he kept himself mostly quarantined to the upstairs, and I came armed with Lysol for that bathroom, just to be safe.
The first event was a memorial service at my aunt and uncle's church here in Rochester on Thursday morning. That morning ended up being hectic--Craig and I both accidentally slept in a little too long. He actually had somewhere to be yet kept snoozing his alarm, and I kept dozing and just sort of forgot that I needed to be up by 8:15 or so to pack Jacob's lunch. And, of course, it turned out that since Craig was running late I also had to take Jacob to school. But once everything had sort of settled down, I had just enough time to check my work email and get ready for the memorial service. It was absolutely wonderful, if you can say that about anything related to the death of a loved one. They sang one of our family's favorite songs, "Here I Am, Lord", without knowing it would have been the family's first choice. It fits my uncle's lifelong dedication to Christian education so perfectly, and was always a classic of the Male Chorus most of the men in the family used to sing with. Then there were three wonderful speakers who all told funny and sweet stories about my uncle and his time as principal of their school and president of the congregation. All of it reminded me even more vividly of my memories of him as my principal, and there were many smiles and tears all around. Then they brought in the entire school (maybe 75 kids?) to sing "Jesus, Name Above All Names", which is another classic from my grade school years and a particular favorite of my aunt who was the music teacher and choir director (though not the one married to my uncle--her sister). That made it all even more meaningful. It just made your heart happy in the midst of the sadness, as much as anything could.
After that, I ran to Wegmans to pick up the Lysol, some grape juice (no idea if it really works to ward off the stomach bug, but it hasn't failed me yet), and a couple other things that came up since my trip to Wegmans the previous evening (ugh). I had some lunch, did about 45 minutes of work, and then finished packing so I could get on the road. My dad was feeling better and starting to eat by the time I arrived, but he opted to skip both days of visitation to ensure he didn't pass it along. The first night at the funeral home was three hours, and I passed most of it by talking to an old friend of mine. Her parents came in, and I spoke to them for a while, then she came and stayed until nearly the end, so I was talking to her for a good chunk of that. Another friend of mine came, too. She was another Lutheran school alum, and her dad was also a principal at another school. We knew each other more in high school, though, and reconnected a bit at our 20th reunion. She also now works with my cousin, which is cool. I chatted with her for a while and both friends and I compared notes on our school days. More old friends and familiar church faces that I haven't seen in person in years kept coming in, and while it made for a tiring evening, it was great to see people. I also had my fair share of family/cousin time, too. All along, though, I kept looking at my uncle in the casket and remained in utter disbelief that he's gone. He was so lively just a few weeks ago, and has been such a constant in our family that I can't quite wrap my brain around a new era without him.
One of the cute parts of the funeral proceedings involved my uncle's tie collection. He had a ton, and a lot of silly ones. They put out the collection at the funeral home and encouraged people to take them and wear them to the funeral. It was amazing to see them all, both on display and throughout the day Saturday. The pastor's happy face "Jesus Loves You" tie under his gown was pretty priceless!
The early part of Friday was pretty quiet, just a lot of lounging around before we had to head over to the funeral home at 3pm for a five-hour stint. This session featured a bit more family arriving in town, visits by four old teachers plus one I knew but never had, and more familiar church faces that I haven't seen in years. The old teachers were interesting. Two were among my lesser favorites, but seeing my Kindergarten and First Grade teachers was great. I haven't seen them since I did my janitor stint at the school about 19 years ago. I had a great talk with the first grade teacher in particular, discussing how things have changed in learning between my time in first grade and Jacob's, and telling her I still have the tissue paper Christmas wreath I made in her class! Honestly, standing before the two people who taught you the basic foundation of your entire education more than 30 years after the fact is pretty weird, but cool. I also got to see a woman (also a family friend who I have seen here and there over the years) who was my long-term substitute when my third grade teacher had tuberculosis for part of the year. When she mentioned how my uncle led her to that position, I gave her a thrill when I told her how I still remembered the crazy papier-mâché/tennis ball/ping pong ball planets we did with her. It sounded like having her own class (she was usually a Pre-K aide) was a lot of work, and the long-standing impact seemed to validate that it was worth it, which was nice. Near the end of the evening, Craig and the kids arrived. Electronics (and my cousin Brian's girlfriend, who Carter is obsessed with) saved the day, and after a quick bite to eat, we all called it a night not long after getting back to my parents. The last open-casket goodbye at the funeral home was tough.
The funeral was super sad but lovely, as like all other parts of this process, it was full of sweet stories, humorous recollections, and a validation of his dedication. There were lots of tears, but smiles, too. After the service, Craig had to leave for the airport for a road trip. Thank goodness for a rare Sunday game, as at least he could be around for part of this. We headed to the cemetery after that, and thankfully the weather had broken a bit and it was in the 40s. The wind wasn't pleasant and there was still snow to step through, but it wasn't bad at all compared to what it could have been. It was odd standing between the headstones of my grandparents and aunt and uncle, but I guess it felt right to share that moment with them, too. After that was the luncheon, at which point my brother had to leave (he's driven up that morning from their ski trip in Massachusetts), but before he left, we got a picture of all 13 grandkids, for the first time since my grandma's funeral 12 years ago.
The first event was a memorial service at my aunt and uncle's church here in Rochester on Thursday morning. That morning ended up being hectic--Craig and I both accidentally slept in a little too long. He actually had somewhere to be yet kept snoozing his alarm, and I kept dozing and just sort of forgot that I needed to be up by 8:15 or so to pack Jacob's lunch. And, of course, it turned out that since Craig was running late I also had to take Jacob to school. But once everything had sort of settled down, I had just enough time to check my work email and get ready for the memorial service. It was absolutely wonderful, if you can say that about anything related to the death of a loved one. They sang one of our family's favorite songs, "Here I Am, Lord", without knowing it would have been the family's first choice. It fits my uncle's lifelong dedication to Christian education so perfectly, and was always a classic of the Male Chorus most of the men in the family used to sing with. Then there were three wonderful speakers who all told funny and sweet stories about my uncle and his time as principal of their school and president of the congregation. All of it reminded me even more vividly of my memories of him as my principal, and there were many smiles and tears all around. Then they brought in the entire school (maybe 75 kids?) to sing "Jesus, Name Above All Names", which is another classic from my grade school years and a particular favorite of my aunt who was the music teacher and choir director (though not the one married to my uncle--her sister). That made it all even more meaningful. It just made your heart happy in the midst of the sadness, as much as anything could.
After that, I ran to Wegmans to pick up the Lysol, some grape juice (no idea if it really works to ward off the stomach bug, but it hasn't failed me yet), and a couple other things that came up since my trip to Wegmans the previous evening (ugh). I had some lunch, did about 45 minutes of work, and then finished packing so I could get on the road. My dad was feeling better and starting to eat by the time I arrived, but he opted to skip both days of visitation to ensure he didn't pass it along. The first night at the funeral home was three hours, and I passed most of it by talking to an old friend of mine. Her parents came in, and I spoke to them for a while, then she came and stayed until nearly the end, so I was talking to her for a good chunk of that. Another friend of mine came, too. She was another Lutheran school alum, and her dad was also a principal at another school. We knew each other more in high school, though, and reconnected a bit at our 20th reunion. She also now works with my cousin, which is cool. I chatted with her for a while and both friends and I compared notes on our school days. More old friends and familiar church faces that I haven't seen in person in years kept coming in, and while it made for a tiring evening, it was great to see people. I also had my fair share of family/cousin time, too. All along, though, I kept looking at my uncle in the casket and remained in utter disbelief that he's gone. He was so lively just a few weeks ago, and has been such a constant in our family that I can't quite wrap my brain around a new era without him.
One of the cute parts of the funeral proceedings involved my uncle's tie collection. He had a ton, and a lot of silly ones. They put out the collection at the funeral home and encouraged people to take them and wear them to the funeral. It was amazing to see them all, both on display and throughout the day Saturday. The pastor's happy face "Jesus Loves You" tie under his gown was pretty priceless!
 |
| There was an entire bag full left on the chair behind this ladder, and eventually all but a handful were gone! |
The early part of Friday was pretty quiet, just a lot of lounging around before we had to head over to the funeral home at 3pm for a five-hour stint. This session featured a bit more family arriving in town, visits by four old teachers plus one I knew but never had, and more familiar church faces that I haven't seen in years. The old teachers were interesting. Two were among my lesser favorites, but seeing my Kindergarten and First Grade teachers was great. I haven't seen them since I did my janitor stint at the school about 19 years ago. I had a great talk with the first grade teacher in particular, discussing how things have changed in learning between my time in first grade and Jacob's, and telling her I still have the tissue paper Christmas wreath I made in her class! Honestly, standing before the two people who taught you the basic foundation of your entire education more than 30 years after the fact is pretty weird, but cool. I also got to see a woman (also a family friend who I have seen here and there over the years) who was my long-term substitute when my third grade teacher had tuberculosis for part of the year. When she mentioned how my uncle led her to that position, I gave her a thrill when I told her how I still remembered the crazy papier-mâché/tennis ball/ping pong ball planets we did with her. It sounded like having her own class (she was usually a Pre-K aide) was a lot of work, and the long-standing impact seemed to validate that it was worth it, which was nice. Near the end of the evening, Craig and the kids arrived. Electronics (and my cousin Brian's girlfriend, who Carter is obsessed with) saved the day, and after a quick bite to eat, we all called it a night not long after getting back to my parents. The last open-casket goodbye at the funeral home was tough.
The funeral was super sad but lovely, as like all other parts of this process, it was full of sweet stories, humorous recollections, and a validation of his dedication. There were lots of tears, but smiles, too. After the service, Craig had to leave for the airport for a road trip. Thank goodness for a rare Sunday game, as at least he could be around for part of this. We headed to the cemetery after that, and thankfully the weather had broken a bit and it was in the 40s. The wind wasn't pleasant and there was still snow to step through, but it wasn't bad at all compared to what it could have been. It was odd standing between the headstones of my grandparents and aunt and uncle, but I guess it felt right to share that moment with them, too. After that was the luncheon, at which point my brother had to leave (he's driven up that morning from their ski trip in Massachusetts), but before he left, we got a picture of all 13 grandkids, for the first time since my grandma's funeral 12 years ago.
I was originally planning on going home after that, but then they planned a cousin get-together nearby at 6pm, so we stuck around and I ended up hanging out with my cousins until 11pm! I never expected to stay that long, but many great conversations were had! Obviously the kids and I slept over and we came home right after church on Sunday, so we had a little time before Jacob's lacrosse practice. Craig didn't make it home until this morning.
Last night I started my next big project, another round of photo scanning, but this time with my parents' albums. I brought home their first eight albums, which should keep me busy for a long time! It's already been fun but bittersweet, mostly because there are now so many people in those albums who have passed. Seeing my Uncle Bruce, Uncle Cliff, Uncle Bink and Aunt Karen, all as young parents, made me smile. In the next moment it breaks my heart knowing they're all gone now. But I enjoy seeing my parents as a very young married couple, so it will be fun to go through the albums again and hopefully ensure they're kept forever.
It's back to reality now--busy days at work and everyone at home sort of on the verge of sickness--tired, iffy stomachs, sniffles--which only plays into my panic about this year's extra intense flu. I know I have it easy, though, as my thoughts and prayers are now with my aunt and cousins who have the daunting task of finding their new normal. We all miss him already.
Tuesday, January 16, 2018
A Loss
Yesterday we lost my Uncle Cliff. He had been battling health issues, but this was sudden and probably only somewhat related to the original issue. It's heartbreaking, and while to some degree we all had to prepare ourselves for an uncertain future, this was certainly not the way anyone expected things to go.
This is obviously hardest on my Aunt Lynne, who has spent pretty much all of her adult life with him, and my cousin Lori, who adored him. And while they may not show it as much, I'm sure my cousins Todd and Chris are dealing with this in their own way. Like their dad, they can both be a bit on the stoic side. Suffice it to say that Lori seemed to get the vast majority of the "open expression" genes in that bunch. But in an extended family as close-knit as ours, a loss like this is so hard to take. Everyone has their piece of the puzzle, and when one is missing, things just aren't the same.
Like I alluded to, he was a pretty stoic guy much of the time, a man of few words. But rest assured, he could certainly get going, and his laugh in particular sticks in my mind. He had a very interesting position in my life, as he was not only my uncle, but also my principal when I was in grade school. Being the principal's niece is sort of a weird thing, as people assume you get special treatment. It also didn't help that one aunt was the music teacher, another was the librarian and the first-choice substitute teacher, and yet another was the secretary in later years. But the fact of the matter was that I was a good student and rarely got in trouble anyway. In fact, I think I may have only ended up in his office once for a behavior-related issue--not that I can even remember what it might have been--but clearly it wasn't a big deal even then. Maybe it wasn't even directly related to something I did. But what people didn't understand was that when you have a direct link (or many) to your parents wandering the halls, it's a good motivator to behave! I admit that for a good chunk of my early life, I probably had a hard time separating the roles. At school I always felt a little funny calling him Uncle Cliff, and out of school I never entirely lost that hint of fear/respect he commanded at school. It was OK, really. I had it easy, after all--I still can't quite imagine how his sons (or my brother) felt about having him as a teacher, too!
He was an imposing figure--sturdy is the word that comes to mind--but he was really a very good-hearted, thoughtful guy who dedicated his entire career to God's work. He probably could have made a lot more money working in public schools, but he focused on Lutheran schools--including one here in Rochester after he parted ways with my old school. He was a great church servant as well, even into retirement. He had a great public speaking ability, though if I had to guess I'm not sure it was a role he relished. But it was usually part of his position and he did it well. When he spoke, everyone listened. As such, he was also the designated pray-er in our family. If he was around, he was the one doing the pre-meal prayer, and man, he did it well. The last one he did was on Christmas, and it was particularly meaningful given the state of his health. He even got choked up. I will miss his prayers terribly at every family gathering from now on, and his voice will forever remain etched in my memory. I miss it already.
Christmas definitely had some added meaning this year, with not knowing what the future held for him. Ironically, despite his recent illness and the treatments he'd been receiving, you'd never have known that day that he was sick. Whether it was the miracle of modern medicine or another testament to his toughness, I don't really know, but it makes it all the more shocking that he's no longer with us just a few short weeks later. I feel blessed to have been the last recipient of a family exchange gift from him. He gave me two books I'd had on my list, both with what he termed "interesting" titles. One is "Slow Down" by Nichole Nordeman, and the other is "Present Over Perfect" by Shauna Niequist. Both are about finding joy and peace in the less-than-perfect moments of life and parenting. I regret that I'll never be able to tell him what I learned from those books, as he seemed intrigued by my choices. He was also proud of a garage sale find that ended up being part of my dad's gift, a giant martini glass. He was a great garage saler, often finding things he could fix up and resell or integrate into his woodworking projects. He also enjoyed sports. He was an avid golfer, and he had a stint as a basketball coach back in my school days. He passed those loves down to his sons and grandson in particular, and it's a shame he won't be around to see just how far his very talented grandson will go. Watching him as a grandfather over the past 15+ years showed a different side of him, one I even saw come out a bit when he was around my kids. The night he and Aunt Lynne babysat Carter last year when I went to a concert with Mary, I remember seeing that fun, grandfatherly gleam in his eye when Carter was shooting Matchbox cars down a giant track in their living room.
A year and a day before he died, we were celebrating his and my aunt's joint 70th birthday party, a surprise to both of them. Her 71st birthday is today. It's beyond comprehension that she'll be celebrating it without him. I still adore this picture that I took last year that captures them to a tee.
I'm not sure what life will be like for her without him. She's getting older and by her own admission a bit more scatterbrained. Only Lori lives here in town, and the boys each live about an hour or two away in either direction. I wonder if caring for their house and epic garden will be something she'll want to take on herself. Most of the rest of the family is back in Buffalo, and while they made a lot of connections here in the dozen or so years since they moved, I wonder if she will find more comfort elsewhere. It's hard to picture my aunt without my uncle, so it's hard to fathom where this new path will take her.
As I think about the days ahead where we will celebrate his memory and say our goodbyes, it's still hard to believe we're here. When you're a kid and your family is this constant in your life, it's hard to imagine a time where the older generation won't be presiding over the family. First it's the loss of your grandparents, and then slowly your parents' generation starts to pass away. I know we have a lot of these moments ahead, and the increasing frequency of stuff like this is one of those cues that we're at a new stage of adulthood.
My last time seeing Uncle Cliff was as he was leaving on Christmas night. We had a nice goodbye. I never would have thought it would be the final goodbye, and it breaks my heart that it had to be. I miss him already. I'm so thankful that he's in heaven, finally healed and pain-free, hopefully getting reacquainted with loved ones and enjoying all his eternal home has to offer. But he will be so, so missed here on earth.
This is obviously hardest on my Aunt Lynne, who has spent pretty much all of her adult life with him, and my cousin Lori, who adored him. And while they may not show it as much, I'm sure my cousins Todd and Chris are dealing with this in their own way. Like their dad, they can both be a bit on the stoic side. Suffice it to say that Lori seemed to get the vast majority of the "open expression" genes in that bunch. But in an extended family as close-knit as ours, a loss like this is so hard to take. Everyone has their piece of the puzzle, and when one is missing, things just aren't the same.
Like I alluded to, he was a pretty stoic guy much of the time, a man of few words. But rest assured, he could certainly get going, and his laugh in particular sticks in my mind. He had a very interesting position in my life, as he was not only my uncle, but also my principal when I was in grade school. Being the principal's niece is sort of a weird thing, as people assume you get special treatment. It also didn't help that one aunt was the music teacher, another was the librarian and the first-choice substitute teacher, and yet another was the secretary in later years. But the fact of the matter was that I was a good student and rarely got in trouble anyway. In fact, I think I may have only ended up in his office once for a behavior-related issue--not that I can even remember what it might have been--but clearly it wasn't a big deal even then. Maybe it wasn't even directly related to something I did. But what people didn't understand was that when you have a direct link (or many) to your parents wandering the halls, it's a good motivator to behave! I admit that for a good chunk of my early life, I probably had a hard time separating the roles. At school I always felt a little funny calling him Uncle Cliff, and out of school I never entirely lost that hint of fear/respect he commanded at school. It was OK, really. I had it easy, after all--I still can't quite imagine how his sons (or my brother) felt about having him as a teacher, too!
He was an imposing figure--sturdy is the word that comes to mind--but he was really a very good-hearted, thoughtful guy who dedicated his entire career to God's work. He probably could have made a lot more money working in public schools, but he focused on Lutheran schools--including one here in Rochester after he parted ways with my old school. He was a great church servant as well, even into retirement. He had a great public speaking ability, though if I had to guess I'm not sure it was a role he relished. But it was usually part of his position and he did it well. When he spoke, everyone listened. As such, he was also the designated pray-er in our family. If he was around, he was the one doing the pre-meal prayer, and man, he did it well. The last one he did was on Christmas, and it was particularly meaningful given the state of his health. He even got choked up. I will miss his prayers terribly at every family gathering from now on, and his voice will forever remain etched in my memory. I miss it already.
Christmas definitely had some added meaning this year, with not knowing what the future held for him. Ironically, despite his recent illness and the treatments he'd been receiving, you'd never have known that day that he was sick. Whether it was the miracle of modern medicine or another testament to his toughness, I don't really know, but it makes it all the more shocking that he's no longer with us just a few short weeks later. I feel blessed to have been the last recipient of a family exchange gift from him. He gave me two books I'd had on my list, both with what he termed "interesting" titles. One is "Slow Down" by Nichole Nordeman, and the other is "Present Over Perfect" by Shauna Niequist. Both are about finding joy and peace in the less-than-perfect moments of life and parenting. I regret that I'll never be able to tell him what I learned from those books, as he seemed intrigued by my choices. He was also proud of a garage sale find that ended up being part of my dad's gift, a giant martini glass. He was a great garage saler, often finding things he could fix up and resell or integrate into his woodworking projects. He also enjoyed sports. He was an avid golfer, and he had a stint as a basketball coach back in my school days. He passed those loves down to his sons and grandson in particular, and it's a shame he won't be around to see just how far his very talented grandson will go. Watching him as a grandfather over the past 15+ years showed a different side of him, one I even saw come out a bit when he was around my kids. The night he and Aunt Lynne babysat Carter last year when I went to a concert with Mary, I remember seeing that fun, grandfatherly gleam in his eye when Carter was shooting Matchbox cars down a giant track in their living room.
A year and a day before he died, we were celebrating his and my aunt's joint 70th birthday party, a surprise to both of them. Her 71st birthday is today. It's beyond comprehension that she'll be celebrating it without him. I still adore this picture that I took last year that captures them to a tee.
As I think about the days ahead where we will celebrate his memory and say our goodbyes, it's still hard to believe we're here. When you're a kid and your family is this constant in your life, it's hard to imagine a time where the older generation won't be presiding over the family. First it's the loss of your grandparents, and then slowly your parents' generation starts to pass away. I know we have a lot of these moments ahead, and the increasing frequency of stuff like this is one of those cues that we're at a new stage of adulthood.
My last time seeing Uncle Cliff was as he was leaving on Christmas night. We had a nice goodbye. I never would have thought it would be the final goodbye, and it breaks my heart that it had to be. I miss him already. I'm so thankful that he's in heaven, finally healed and pain-free, hopefully getting reacquainted with loved ones and enjoying all his eternal home has to offer. But he will be so, so missed here on earth.
Sunday, January 14, 2018
Soccer! The Sequel
Tuesday was Carter's first night of soccer. We opted to sign him up for the same program Jacob did at his age. It's only six weeks of 45-minute sessions, so it's pretty low-risk. When we did it with Jacob, we knew he was ready for some sort of sports, though we weren't sure how he'd do with structure after four years of playing whatever he wanted, however he wanted around our house. For Carter, he's much less sports-minded, though he did seem up for this so we figured it was worth a try. It was mostly a coincidence that he ended up in the same timeframe (early January to mid-February) as Jacob had, but the reason for that was mostly because it's at the same time and place as Jacob's lacrosse practice. It made me smile the day after Carter's first session when Jacob's first day of soccer picture showed up in my Facebook memories, and Carter will finish the day before Valentine's Day--one day before Jacob's original end date, which was one day before Carter's arrival!
In case you've forgotten the series of events, I slept horribly the night of February 13, and woke up on the 14th feeling like garbage. I struggled through the day, exhausted and fed up with the pressure, sciatica, and (ugh) mucus plug issues that plagued me for the previous month. I made it through the work day, only to know we had soccer and a very non-romantic post-soccer dinner at Friendly's to go before I could go to bed. I could barely sit, let alone eat, and got a little hint when I visited the bathroom that something might be happening. I half-expected to be woken up with labor pains, but I slept through the night and felt good enough to go into work on the morning of the 15th. It was the Friday before a long weekend and I was determined to finish my work that day, just in case. I was 95% of the way there when my water randomly broke as I shifted at my desk, and so began the craziness of getting to the hospital and bringing this little guy into the world.
Five years later it's his first attempt at organized sports, and he was ready!
Of course, when we went to find Jacob's shin guards, we were down a sleeve. Even the one pair of soccer socks he still had in his drawer was down to only a single! Grrrrr. Thankfully Craig had a coupon for Dick's (and of course we had to get Under Armour) so we could get Carter his set. I also knew Jacob had a pair of tiny cleats we got cheap before he started, and those were MIA, too! Craig found them Tuesday morning buried in an old sports bag (with a cool pair of lacrosse shorts we had forgotten about). They were a little big but Carter insisted on wearing them!
There ended up being six kids, and when they started, Carter was probably one of three who weren't in tears or acting very hesitant to go out on the field. He happily ran right out. Before things really got going, the coach (I swear it's the same guy that did Jacob's) had the kids kick the soccer balls into one of the little nets. It was so fun watching Carter do it, because he seemed beyond excited to just be able to run around! It's hard when it's winter (particularly a cold one) and outside is off limits most of the time.
They did a bunch of ball handling drills, then played a game called Sharks and Minnows where the shark in the middle has to chase down minnows, then the caught minnows have to be sharks, too. I noticed Carter talking to the coach after one round and he sat out the rest of that game. I found out later that he didn't want to be a shark, but I never really was able to determine why. He shed a lot of tears over it on Tuesday night, and I think he's just upset that he's not as fast as other kids and thought he wouldn't be able to catch them. He seems willing now to play it again, so we'll see. The second time they played he was the last minnow to be caught, so I guess that avoided the problem.
The last part of the session was a 3-on-3 scrimmage. His team had a bit of a rough go--one kid scoring in his own net, one kid that liked to lay down in front of their goal and just stay there, and Carter being a little too nice or tentative out there. I told him he needs to put some power behind the ball and not be so generous when going in one-on-one with someone, but he insisted he wasn't, so we'll see. Here's a clip from the scrimmage. Carter has the blue shorts with stripes down the side and high white socks.
Here's his team before the second half of the scrimmage.
He was a little discouraged that they lost, but he still seemed to have a blast and has been asking when it will be Tuesday again ever since. It's like an exact repeat of Jacob! It was funny watching him, because he was so joyful out there for most of it. Jacob always took this stuff so seriously, and I recall being really nervous watching him out there because I wasn't sure if he was going to try to impose his rules on everyone else, or take it all too seriously. With Carter my only fear was that he might get upset if they lost because he's really sensitive about that stuff. Even though he was a little sad in a couple cases, he did so well out there. He listened pretty well, and seemed to really enjoy the chance to get out there. It made my heart so happy to see!
Five more weeks to go, which also means five more weeks until my sweet baby boy officially moves into true little boy status. How is he almost five?!
In case you've forgotten the series of events, I slept horribly the night of February 13, and woke up on the 14th feeling like garbage. I struggled through the day, exhausted and fed up with the pressure, sciatica, and (ugh) mucus plug issues that plagued me for the previous month. I made it through the work day, only to know we had soccer and a very non-romantic post-soccer dinner at Friendly's to go before I could go to bed. I could barely sit, let alone eat, and got a little hint when I visited the bathroom that something might be happening. I half-expected to be woken up with labor pains, but I slept through the night and felt good enough to go into work on the morning of the 15th. It was the Friday before a long weekend and I was determined to finish my work that day, just in case. I was 95% of the way there when my water randomly broke as I shifted at my desk, and so began the craziness of getting to the hospital and bringing this little guy into the world.
Five years later it's his first attempt at organized sports, and he was ready!
Of course, when we went to find Jacob's shin guards, we were down a sleeve. Even the one pair of soccer socks he still had in his drawer was down to only a single! Grrrrr. Thankfully Craig had a coupon for Dick's (and of course we had to get Under Armour) so we could get Carter his set. I also knew Jacob had a pair of tiny cleats we got cheap before he started, and those were MIA, too! Craig found them Tuesday morning buried in an old sports bag (with a cool pair of lacrosse shorts we had forgotten about). They were a little big but Carter insisted on wearing them!
There ended up being six kids, and when they started, Carter was probably one of three who weren't in tears or acting very hesitant to go out on the field. He happily ran right out. Before things really got going, the coach (I swear it's the same guy that did Jacob's) had the kids kick the soccer balls into one of the little nets. It was so fun watching Carter do it, because he seemed beyond excited to just be able to run around! It's hard when it's winter (particularly a cold one) and outside is off limits most of the time.
They did a bunch of ball handling drills, then played a game called Sharks and Minnows where the shark in the middle has to chase down minnows, then the caught minnows have to be sharks, too. I noticed Carter talking to the coach after one round and he sat out the rest of that game. I found out later that he didn't want to be a shark, but I never really was able to determine why. He shed a lot of tears over it on Tuesday night, and I think he's just upset that he's not as fast as other kids and thought he wouldn't be able to catch them. He seems willing now to play it again, so we'll see. The second time they played he was the last minnow to be caught, so I guess that avoided the problem.
The last part of the session was a 3-on-3 scrimmage. His team had a bit of a rough go--one kid scoring in his own net, one kid that liked to lay down in front of their goal and just stay there, and Carter being a little too nice or tentative out there. I told him he needs to put some power behind the ball and not be so generous when going in one-on-one with someone, but he insisted he wasn't, so we'll see. Here's a clip from the scrimmage. Carter has the blue shorts with stripes down the side and high white socks.
Here's his team before the second half of the scrimmage.
He was a little discouraged that they lost, but he still seemed to have a blast and has been asking when it will be Tuesday again ever since. It's like an exact repeat of Jacob! It was funny watching him, because he was so joyful out there for most of it. Jacob always took this stuff so seriously, and I recall being really nervous watching him out there because I wasn't sure if he was going to try to impose his rules on everyone else, or take it all too seriously. With Carter my only fear was that he might get upset if they lost because he's really sensitive about that stuff. Even though he was a little sad in a couple cases, he did so well out there. He listened pretty well, and seemed to really enjoy the chance to get out there. It made my heart so happy to see!
Five more weeks to go, which also means five more weeks until my sweet baby boy officially moves into true little boy status. How is he almost five?!
Saturday, January 13, 2018
Three Years
Three years ago today, everything changed. I woke up and it was a day like any other. I did see some bad news about my friend's cancer-stricken daughter that morning, but otherwise, it was an average day. I got into work, I ate my breakfast, and just as I finished, my big boss from our Toronto office poked his head around the corner. He asked me to come with him, and about 10 seconds later I figured out this wasn't good and something was about to go horribly wrong.
Less than two hours (and a few tears) later, I found myself sitting alone on my couch with absolutely nothing to do and nowhere to go. Everything I had worked for for nine years was gone, and I'd wake up the next morning with the sole purpose of getting my kids up and out...and I guess starting the process of getting myself a new job. Losing my job, particularly in the sudden way that I did, was truly horrible. Even now the thought of that day sends shivers up my spine and makes me feel a little sick. It was shocking and scary, and I felt such a sense of loss in regard to the friends I'd miss seeing every day and the many projects that I knew would die without me. It changed my entire perspective on work. Not that you shouldn't put in an effort, but just to remember where your loyalties need to lie when it's a close call. Your job could drop you tomorrow, but family is forever.
Three years since, a few other things stick with me. I still look back so fondly on my time off. It was a revelation to focus solely on my family for a change. I didn't have to panic when a kid got sick, I had time to think about ways to improve our household, and I discovered I don't really hate cleaning--I just hate doing it when I'm in a rush and prefer to use that time for something better. I even had time for myself--a stop at the gym on days when Carter went to daycare and a little time to frugally acquire a business wardrobe after a couple years of casual attire and post-maternity weight gain. I had time to play with Carter and get my housework done. I could go to Wegmans during the day when it wasn't busy, which meant I didn't have to fill my evenings with errands. It rearranged my entire life, and most of the time, I loved it. I decided I could absolutely work part time and love it, but of course that wasn't in the cards.
I still know I'm very lucky to have found a job, and a good one, at that. I got a nice pay raise, ended up with some good benefits, and found a job that combined most of my best skills. It was a great place to land, and I still feel grateful. It's been a bit of rough go over the last year or so--first with some unrest on campus when President Trump won the election last year, and this year with a controversial sexual harassment issue on campus. It's made getting donors a bit more challenging, and then a complete staffing shakeup in our department last summer made things even harder. As a result, my boss is extra stressed and a lot more work has trickled down to me. I don't mind, but the way things have happened has been a little chaotic so some days haven't been the best. I still feel fortunate, though.
It just boggles my mind a little bit how one thing so quickly changed our present and future, and it all started three years ago today.
Less than two hours (and a few tears) later, I found myself sitting alone on my couch with absolutely nothing to do and nowhere to go. Everything I had worked for for nine years was gone, and I'd wake up the next morning with the sole purpose of getting my kids up and out...and I guess starting the process of getting myself a new job. Losing my job, particularly in the sudden way that I did, was truly horrible. Even now the thought of that day sends shivers up my spine and makes me feel a little sick. It was shocking and scary, and I felt such a sense of loss in regard to the friends I'd miss seeing every day and the many projects that I knew would die without me. It changed my entire perspective on work. Not that you shouldn't put in an effort, but just to remember where your loyalties need to lie when it's a close call. Your job could drop you tomorrow, but family is forever.
Three years since, a few other things stick with me. I still look back so fondly on my time off. It was a revelation to focus solely on my family for a change. I didn't have to panic when a kid got sick, I had time to think about ways to improve our household, and I discovered I don't really hate cleaning--I just hate doing it when I'm in a rush and prefer to use that time for something better. I even had time for myself--a stop at the gym on days when Carter went to daycare and a little time to frugally acquire a business wardrobe after a couple years of casual attire and post-maternity weight gain. I had time to play with Carter and get my housework done. I could go to Wegmans during the day when it wasn't busy, which meant I didn't have to fill my evenings with errands. It rearranged my entire life, and most of the time, I loved it. I decided I could absolutely work part time and love it, but of course that wasn't in the cards.
I still know I'm very lucky to have found a job, and a good one, at that. I got a nice pay raise, ended up with some good benefits, and found a job that combined most of my best skills. It was a great place to land, and I still feel grateful. It's been a bit of rough go over the last year or so--first with some unrest on campus when President Trump won the election last year, and this year with a controversial sexual harassment issue on campus. It's made getting donors a bit more challenging, and then a complete staffing shakeup in our department last summer made things even harder. As a result, my boss is extra stressed and a lot more work has trickled down to me. I don't mind, but the way things have happened has been a little chaotic so some days haven't been the best. I still feel fortunate, though.
It just boggles my mind a little bit how one thing so quickly changed our present and future, and it all started three years ago today.
Monday, January 8, 2018
News and Notes, Sloppy Slushy Edition
Today is the first day above freezing since Christmas. It's been a brutal couple weeks that have taken me back to that February three years ago that was so cold for the entire month that it literally left me a bit traumatized. There's little worse than completely dreading going outside your house, because it just makes average daily life that much more difficult to face. I have enough hermit qualities without adding fear of the bitter cold to the list of things keeping me indoors. Between the constant cold and the near-constant snow, we have at least a foot of snow on the ground, which seems low considering how it did seem to snow for days on end. But we had enough wind to blow it around that some areas are extra deep and some are extra shallow. Jacob and I were chiseling up two-inch-thick slabs of ice from our driveway yesterday that have built up for the last three weeks or so. It was still bitterly cold yesterday, but for some reason that stuff was coming right up. Today it's finally in the mid-30s (it felt like the mid-40s when I was out this morning--the only upside of consistently cold weather) and you could already tell that the remaining snow was condensing and whatever was disturbed was turning into total slush. Lovely. The plow came through and cleared out our road, but now we have a heavy load of crap at the bottom of the driveway...but since it's going to be warmer in two days, there's no sense shoveling it now. Ironically, it was still snowing this morning in the midst of all the melting, but by later in the week it will almost hit 50, so who knows what kind of mess we'll be dealing with then.
The Bills lost their playoff game yesterday, which was a bummer but not entirely unexpected. It was a defensive showdown and the Bills' no-show offense was helped along by a couple bad calls by the referees. It was sad, but I'm still glad we had a little moment, and hopefully next year they'll come back stronger. Or, if nothing else, we're no longer the team with the longest playoff drought. During the game I managed to take down the Christmas tree, which was on the heels of de-Christmasing the rest of the house on Saturday. Part of me felt like it was a little early (usually I aim for the 10th, but with the weekend falling as it did, next weekend felt too late), but part of me was just ready to get back to normal. Between different seating arrangements, toy storage, and the daunting task of putting everything away, I just felt like it had to happen ASAP. Normally the house feels empty afterward, but since I started saving most of my snowmen for January decorating, it's not so bad. And I love the little $4 string of icicle lights I bought from Aldi last month. They look really cute on the fireplace mantel. They strangely help. I have a few final things to get back to normal or finish putting away, but I'm thankful I got so much done.
Tomorrow night is Carter's first night of soccer. We signed him up for the same program that Jacob did when he was four, ironically in the same time period Jacob did it. His was on Thursdays and Carter's is on Tuesdays (at the same time as Jacob's lacrosse practice--score!), but the last day is February 13...just one day away from five years to the day of Jacob's last session on Valentine's Day...less than 24 hours before I was in the hospital in labor! Funny little full circle moment. We're interested to see how he does. He's generally better socially than Jacob was, I think--at least as far as sports go, since Jacob was rather particular about that and most kids didn't really understand that--but he also tends to want to quit things when he's not doing well, so we'll see. Of course, when we went to find Jacob's shin guards, we're one sleeve short and his tiny little cleats are nowhere to be found. Sneakers will be fine for Carter, I think, but we did have to shell out a few bucks for some new shin guards. Darn it. Fingers crossed this is the thing that gets him into sports so he and Jacob can bond a little more over that.
On Wednesday we go for Jacob's quarterly med check-in. We should be officially getting him set up for a little bonus dose of medicine in the evenings, which we've been testing out (with the doctor's OK) with leftover medicine since our last big blow-up in early December. It's worked pretty well, and when he missed a few doses because we needed to stretch out what we had left, I could definitely tell the difference. I don't like being reliant on the medicine, but I honestly just hope it's just something to get us through until true maturity helps him manage this stuff better on his own. That might be wishful thinking, but I have to keep that hope for now. We still have a lot to work through, but I'm happy he's managing well at school and things have been a bit more tolerable at home. We still have our moments, but most of the time we get through.
Carter is a loving handful as usual and we're currently fighting a major screen time battle with him. He has taken to electronics like Jacob took to sports, so it's a constant fight to limit his time and still keep him happily occupied. I think sometimes he forgets he has real toys, so we often have to redirect him to those, and when we do, he plays just fine. But eventually he wants to come back to a screen. On one hand I get it--I spend a lot of time in front of screens because it's how I decompress. But he's a kid and should be maximizing his creative time while he's still a kid. It doesn't help that Craig loves watching TV and the screens are one thing that keep the kids away from each other. So, we're still working through enforceable limits. But in less than six weeks he will turn five and my baby won't be my baby anymore! I'm trying to ignore the winter weather by planning his birthday--picking presents, setting a party date, and trying to find a cake that suits him. How are we here already?!
I had a little moment of sadness when I noticed that my annual blog posts fell under 100 for the first time ever in 2017. I've been on a bit of a decline for the past few years, and I suppose that's just a natural evolution. That I've kept this going this long is actually pretty amazing, as most of the bloggers I've followed since I started this one have come and gone since. The kids are getting older, so there are fewer adorable baby pictures and more second thoughts about sharing every little detail. I can only rehash our issues with the kids so many times before this gets more boring than it usually is, and most of the big stuff has already been covered at least once, if not twice. Most of what I do now is either to vent, work through some thoughts, or to document stuff so I remember it down the road. Parenthood is such a blur sometimes and I feel like I'd be lost without this blog and my thousands of photos to refresh and trigger memories. So...I keep going.
Right now I'm living for my day off next Monday with Jacob and another day I'll take with Carter hopefully the following week. Work has cooled down a bit from the end of the year, but a very stressful period is coming up and without having had an extended break in ages, I think I'm getting a little burned out. This time of year always gets me a bit as two out of three years I had some time off (first for maternity leave, then when I lost my job), and while I don't need to relive either of those scenarios, sometimes I get a little wistful for quiet days in the house snuggled on the couch. Hopefully we can make the most of those days off, and hopefully I can sneak in a few solid vacation days for myself before I have to start taking time off for lacrosse tournaments. Seems a lifetime away right now, but I have a feeling it'll be here before we know it.
All right, time for bed. More soon...
The Bills lost their playoff game yesterday, which was a bummer but not entirely unexpected. It was a defensive showdown and the Bills' no-show offense was helped along by a couple bad calls by the referees. It was sad, but I'm still glad we had a little moment, and hopefully next year they'll come back stronger. Or, if nothing else, we're no longer the team with the longest playoff drought. During the game I managed to take down the Christmas tree, which was on the heels of de-Christmasing the rest of the house on Saturday. Part of me felt like it was a little early (usually I aim for the 10th, but with the weekend falling as it did, next weekend felt too late), but part of me was just ready to get back to normal. Between different seating arrangements, toy storage, and the daunting task of putting everything away, I just felt like it had to happen ASAP. Normally the house feels empty afterward, but since I started saving most of my snowmen for January decorating, it's not so bad. And I love the little $4 string of icicle lights I bought from Aldi last month. They look really cute on the fireplace mantel. They strangely help. I have a few final things to get back to normal or finish putting away, but I'm thankful I got so much done.
Tomorrow night is Carter's first night of soccer. We signed him up for the same program that Jacob did when he was four, ironically in the same time period Jacob did it. His was on Thursdays and Carter's is on Tuesdays (at the same time as Jacob's lacrosse practice--score!), but the last day is February 13...just one day away from five years to the day of Jacob's last session on Valentine's Day...less than 24 hours before I was in the hospital in labor! Funny little full circle moment. We're interested to see how he does. He's generally better socially than Jacob was, I think--at least as far as sports go, since Jacob was rather particular about that and most kids didn't really understand that--but he also tends to want to quit things when he's not doing well, so we'll see. Of course, when we went to find Jacob's shin guards, we're one sleeve short and his tiny little cleats are nowhere to be found. Sneakers will be fine for Carter, I think, but we did have to shell out a few bucks for some new shin guards. Darn it. Fingers crossed this is the thing that gets him into sports so he and Jacob can bond a little more over that.
On Wednesday we go for Jacob's quarterly med check-in. We should be officially getting him set up for a little bonus dose of medicine in the evenings, which we've been testing out (with the doctor's OK) with leftover medicine since our last big blow-up in early December. It's worked pretty well, and when he missed a few doses because we needed to stretch out what we had left, I could definitely tell the difference. I don't like being reliant on the medicine, but I honestly just hope it's just something to get us through until true maturity helps him manage this stuff better on his own. That might be wishful thinking, but I have to keep that hope for now. We still have a lot to work through, but I'm happy he's managing well at school and things have been a bit more tolerable at home. We still have our moments, but most of the time we get through.
Carter is a loving handful as usual and we're currently fighting a major screen time battle with him. He has taken to electronics like Jacob took to sports, so it's a constant fight to limit his time and still keep him happily occupied. I think sometimes he forgets he has real toys, so we often have to redirect him to those, and when we do, he plays just fine. But eventually he wants to come back to a screen. On one hand I get it--I spend a lot of time in front of screens because it's how I decompress. But he's a kid and should be maximizing his creative time while he's still a kid. It doesn't help that Craig loves watching TV and the screens are one thing that keep the kids away from each other. So, we're still working through enforceable limits. But in less than six weeks he will turn five and my baby won't be my baby anymore! I'm trying to ignore the winter weather by planning his birthday--picking presents, setting a party date, and trying to find a cake that suits him. How are we here already?!
I had a little moment of sadness when I noticed that my annual blog posts fell under 100 for the first time ever in 2017. I've been on a bit of a decline for the past few years, and I suppose that's just a natural evolution. That I've kept this going this long is actually pretty amazing, as most of the bloggers I've followed since I started this one have come and gone since. The kids are getting older, so there are fewer adorable baby pictures and more second thoughts about sharing every little detail. I can only rehash our issues with the kids so many times before this gets more boring than it usually is, and most of the big stuff has already been covered at least once, if not twice. Most of what I do now is either to vent, work through some thoughts, or to document stuff so I remember it down the road. Parenthood is such a blur sometimes and I feel like I'd be lost without this blog and my thousands of photos to refresh and trigger memories. So...I keep going.
Right now I'm living for my day off next Monday with Jacob and another day I'll take with Carter hopefully the following week. Work has cooled down a bit from the end of the year, but a very stressful period is coming up and without having had an extended break in ages, I think I'm getting a little burned out. This time of year always gets me a bit as two out of three years I had some time off (first for maternity leave, then when I lost my job), and while I don't need to relive either of those scenarios, sometimes I get a little wistful for quiet days in the house snuggled on the couch. Hopefully we can make the most of those days off, and hopefully I can sneak in a few solid vacation days for myself before I have to start taking time off for lacrosse tournaments. Seems a lifetime away right now, but I have a feeling it'll be here before we know it.
All right, time for bed. More soon...
Wednesday, January 3, 2018
Back When I Liked New Year's...
There was once a time when the dawn of a new year did not fill me with anxiety about what might happen in the next 12 months that might cause my functional reality to come crashing down. I really think some of my anxiety still stems from the beginning of 2015, when I felt like we didn't really have anything interesting on the horizon--no more kids, no huge kid milestones, no new houses or cars or jobs in the works--and then less than two weeks later I lost my job and everything was crazy for a few months. So, I guess anytime I find myself feeling a little too settled or comfortable--even though daily life is sort of exhausting--I get a little concerned that the universe has something up its sleeve. Who might we lose this year? What might go wrong? What will this year ultimately be known for in our family history? That stuff bugs me. It shouldn't, and I should probably talk to someone about anxiety like that, but that tends to be how I feel about the new year, pretty much every year. That probably also means we need more positive things in our lives to look forward to, like a big trip, but alas...not yet.
But once upon a time the new year was sort of exciting, and in fact January 3rd was one of my favorite days of the year for years. I know that sounds crazy, but let's just say it had a good run for a while.
January 3, 1989 - It was my first day back at school after Christmas break. I was in fifth grade and had a long-standing crush on a boy in my class (as in, since Kindergarten). During lunch that day, using my good friend as a mediator, the boy and I each shared our mutual affection for each other, and poof! That day I got my first "boyfriend". Back then, of course, that meant that we sat together at lunch and maybe tried to graze hands if we ended up next to each other during chapel every Wednesday, so it wasn't much of a thing. I think it lasted into sixth grade, though, in some form, before he dumped me for a new girl in our class (and later came crawling back). We were friends well into high school after the puppy love stage passed us by, but I always remembered the first day it became more.
January 3, 1992 - I was in eighth grade. The previous October I had begun my hockey obsession, courtesy of a good friend of mine, who was already a big fan. I had a good foundation, of course, since my parents had been huge hockey fans for years and it had always sort of "been around" as I was growing up. But my friend loved hockey and in particular, one Sabres player, Pierre Turgeon. Of course, two days after the obsession was official (thanks to a Sabres exhibition game against the US Olympic team that my mom took me to with her boss' tickets), Turgeon was traded and I was crushed. Fast-forward a few months, and his new team, the New York Islanders, were coming to Buffalo to play the Sabres. As fate would have it, that game ended up being discounted somehow--I'm pretty sure it was through some sort of church or school group--and my friend and I got to go! I have zero recollection about whose parents went with us or anything like that, but I do remember seeing Turgeon play--and promptly get hurt. But it was fun while it lasted and I think he might have even gotten interviewed during the intermission (and since we were up in the seats under the balcony, we had TVs to see it), so overall it was a good day.
January 3, 1993 - This one's been getting a lot of pub today because of the Bills' big playoff win on Sunday, but this was the day of the Bills' historic playoff comeback victory over the Houston Oilers. I still remember this one pretty vividly as we had traveled to the east side of Rochester to my parents' friends' house to watch the game. It was blacked out in Buffalo as it wasn't sold out, and the friends could get Syracuse TV stations, which were out of the blackout radius. Of course, the first half of the game we wondered why we even bothered, but the second half was unbelievable. They were down 28-3 at halftime, then 35-3, and that's when the magic began. With their backup quarterback at the helm and a number of key players sidelined due to injury, the Bills started to claw their way back. By the 4th quarter, they took the lead, though Houston tied it up late. The Bills won it on a field goal in OT, and the rest was history. It was incredible and made the trip (and watching that awful first half) worth it. And of course, the Bills were off to another Super Bowl after that...and yes, they lost...again. But that comeback was amazing nonetheless.
January 3, 1997 - By this point I was in college, home for my first real winter break. Earlier that fall, my still-favorite player, Pierre Turgeon, had been traded from the Montreal Canadiens to the St. Louis Blues. It was actually a pretty big bummer because I loved him being in Montreal, one of my favorite cities. One of my favorite things to do was to listen to their games in French on the radio (or watch them on my tiny B&W TV when the fuzzy French RDS station on the Ontario-Quebec border happened to have a game). It was good practice for my French speaking, and they're such an iconic team that it didn't feel too weird cheering for them. It was harder to catch his games once he went to St. Louis, and coverage in general was rare (remember, the internet was still in its infancy). Anyway, my mom had originally bought me tickets for a Buffalo-Montreal game that season (maybe for Christmas? I'm guessing I still would have been on break for it), but somehow managed to exchange them once he was traded for a very luckily placed St. Louis game on January 3. I found it pretty ironic that we were seeing Turgeon in for the first time with his new team five years to the day of the first time I did it, but I was so excited to go! I had grown pretty accustomed to going to a lot of games the previous couple years (thanks to my Uncle Bink getting free tickets all the time and giving them to his daughter (and my partner in crime), Kim. But being away at college had cramped that style a bit, and despite going to one last-minute the night I came home for break (randomly, with my brother, and we came out into a snowstorm!), I was more than ready for another game! If I recall correctly, we were in either the last or second-to-last row, so binoculars got a lot of use! It ended up in a tie.
Ok, so those are only four years out of a span of nine, but those odds aren't too bad, right? I think I had good reason to be a fan back then. I can't say that this date has been much of a good luck charm in the years since, but for some reason it still sticks in my memory as a great date. Oh, to be young again and innocently wonder what fabulous things the year will bring...
But once upon a time the new year was sort of exciting, and in fact January 3rd was one of my favorite days of the year for years. I know that sounds crazy, but let's just say it had a good run for a while.
January 3, 1989 - It was my first day back at school after Christmas break. I was in fifth grade and had a long-standing crush on a boy in my class (as in, since Kindergarten). During lunch that day, using my good friend as a mediator, the boy and I each shared our mutual affection for each other, and poof! That day I got my first "boyfriend". Back then, of course, that meant that we sat together at lunch and maybe tried to graze hands if we ended up next to each other during chapel every Wednesday, so it wasn't much of a thing. I think it lasted into sixth grade, though, in some form, before he dumped me for a new girl in our class (and later came crawling back). We were friends well into high school after the puppy love stage passed us by, but I always remembered the first day it became more.
January 3, 1992 - I was in eighth grade. The previous October I had begun my hockey obsession, courtesy of a good friend of mine, who was already a big fan. I had a good foundation, of course, since my parents had been huge hockey fans for years and it had always sort of "been around" as I was growing up. But my friend loved hockey and in particular, one Sabres player, Pierre Turgeon. Of course, two days after the obsession was official (thanks to a Sabres exhibition game against the US Olympic team that my mom took me to with her boss' tickets), Turgeon was traded and I was crushed. Fast-forward a few months, and his new team, the New York Islanders, were coming to Buffalo to play the Sabres. As fate would have it, that game ended up being discounted somehow--I'm pretty sure it was through some sort of church or school group--and my friend and I got to go! I have zero recollection about whose parents went with us or anything like that, but I do remember seeing Turgeon play--and promptly get hurt. But it was fun while it lasted and I think he might have even gotten interviewed during the intermission (and since we were up in the seats under the balcony, we had TVs to see it), so overall it was a good day.
January 3, 1993 - This one's been getting a lot of pub today because of the Bills' big playoff win on Sunday, but this was the day of the Bills' historic playoff comeback victory over the Houston Oilers. I still remember this one pretty vividly as we had traveled to the east side of Rochester to my parents' friends' house to watch the game. It was blacked out in Buffalo as it wasn't sold out, and the friends could get Syracuse TV stations, which were out of the blackout radius. Of course, the first half of the game we wondered why we even bothered, but the second half was unbelievable. They were down 28-3 at halftime, then 35-3, and that's when the magic began. With their backup quarterback at the helm and a number of key players sidelined due to injury, the Bills started to claw their way back. By the 4th quarter, they took the lead, though Houston tied it up late. The Bills won it on a field goal in OT, and the rest was history. It was incredible and made the trip (and watching that awful first half) worth it. And of course, the Bills were off to another Super Bowl after that...and yes, they lost...again. But that comeback was amazing nonetheless.
January 3, 1997 - By this point I was in college, home for my first real winter break. Earlier that fall, my still-favorite player, Pierre Turgeon, had been traded from the Montreal Canadiens to the St. Louis Blues. It was actually a pretty big bummer because I loved him being in Montreal, one of my favorite cities. One of my favorite things to do was to listen to their games in French on the radio (or watch them on my tiny B&W TV when the fuzzy French RDS station on the Ontario-Quebec border happened to have a game). It was good practice for my French speaking, and they're such an iconic team that it didn't feel too weird cheering for them. It was harder to catch his games once he went to St. Louis, and coverage in general was rare (remember, the internet was still in its infancy). Anyway, my mom had originally bought me tickets for a Buffalo-Montreal game that season (maybe for Christmas? I'm guessing I still would have been on break for it), but somehow managed to exchange them once he was traded for a very luckily placed St. Louis game on January 3. I found it pretty ironic that we were seeing Turgeon in for the first time with his new team five years to the day of the first time I did it, but I was so excited to go! I had grown pretty accustomed to going to a lot of games the previous couple years (thanks to my Uncle Bink getting free tickets all the time and giving them to his daughter (and my partner in crime), Kim. But being away at college had cramped that style a bit, and despite going to one last-minute the night I came home for break (randomly, with my brother, and we came out into a snowstorm!), I was more than ready for another game! If I recall correctly, we were in either the last or second-to-last row, so binoculars got a lot of use! It ended up in a tie.
Ok, so those are only four years out of a span of nine, but those odds aren't too bad, right? I think I had good reason to be a fan back then. I can't say that this date has been much of a good luck charm in the years since, but for some reason it still sticks in my memory as a great date. Oh, to be young again and innocently wonder what fabulous things the year will bring...
Monday, January 1, 2018
The Study
Last Thursday, Jacob and I spent the day at the University of Rochester. No, I wasn't at work. We were over on the medical campus, just across the way from where Jacob goes to summer camp. Surprisingly, our visit to the Center for Brain Imaging had absolutely nothing to do with the various behavioral challenges we've spent the last 4+ years tackling. Instead, we were there voluntarily so Jacob could participate in the ABCD Study. It stands for Adolescent Brain Cognitive Development, and it's a nationwide 10-year study of kids around Jacob's age. I think they're targeting around 12,000 kids, and will probably have several hundred at the Rochester site. The ultimate goal is to gather a ton of data to see how brains change through adolescence, and to better understand how environmental factors contribute to changes. It seems like a ridiculous amount of data to sort through, but it's still pretty cool. It could contribute to interventions in the future that can ensure better outcomes for kids in certain challenging circumstances.
I found out about it a while back through work, and mentioned it to Jacob to see if he'd be interested. While the pursuit of better science is a nice motivator, in theory, clearly the real driver to participate is the monetary compensation! I mean, when you're nine and you're offered up a significant chunk of money, why not? It involved a full day, from 9 to 5, and I'd say he definitely earned his pay, but he said he'd be fine doing it again, so it couldn't have been that bad!
We arrived at 9am, and once another participant and her mom arrived, we got a quick briefing in the conference room before we all split off. The kids went off to do their stuff, and the moms were ushered off to separate spaces to do our part. I ended up spending a couple hours answering survey questions about a little of everything, from medical history, behavioral history, current living situation, moods, etc. Meanwhile, Jacob was answering similar questions and playing games that were part of the study tasks or practice for things he'd be doing later. Many tasks had opportunities to earn "prizes", in the form of plastic jewels and coins that would convert to money later. There was a set amount he was supposed to receive, but it was possible to earn more through these tasks. I think the main purpose is just to keep the kids motivated through a very long day.
We met back up for lunch, and they ordered in for us. Interestingly, the other study subject also had Celiac, which was an odd coincidence! Jacob and I tried some Chinese, though he ended up mostly just enjoying his white rice. After lunch, my part was done. He went back down for the most important part of his day, the brain scan in the MRI. While in there, he was able to watch a movie and play games, which all plays into the study in some way. In the meantime, I had visions of blogging, surfing the internet, and just relaxing, but instead it turned into a full afternoon of work. My boss had texted me in the morning to let me know about an additional task that needed to be done the following day when I was back at work, and in addition to laying the groundwork for that, I ended up spending hours going through emails and preparing for the next day. It was the last crush for the end of the year on top of a crazy day the day before when I completed data for six separate emails. I guess the good news was that it made it more manageable the next day when I was fully expecting to get out early (as we always do before a holiday), but due to certain circumstances we didn't, and but I still really needed to leave a bit early to get to my parents' house for the visit with my brother and his kids. I felt no guilt ducking out (even though we were told on the down-low it was OK) after working a full half day on my vacation day!
Just before 5pm, Jacob came back up from the MRI and we got our payments (yes, I get one too) in the form of a Visa gift card-type setup. I still need to figure out the best way to cash them out (as Jacob wants to spend some of his and I'd rather save our portion than spend it). Jacob did really well and his final payment was above average thanks to what he earned. I won't tell you the exact amount, but it's in the low three-figures, which is a pretty good haul for a kid. He got a t-shirt and one other interesting souvenir:
We already had pictures of his intestines, and now we have one of his brain! It's crazy to see, isn't it? And yes, they will have doctors looking at these images, just in case. The girl who was there has a brother with a brain cyst, so her mom was very interested in that fact.
All in all, it was a pretty interesting day and we'll be doing some form of this for years to come. Phone interviews six months after the annual check-in, and then each annual check-in varies. No brain scan next year, but it'll be back the year after. My compensation goes down over the 10 years, and Jacob's goes up, which he's very excited about! Not a bad day's work, regardless!
I found out about it a while back through work, and mentioned it to Jacob to see if he'd be interested. While the pursuit of better science is a nice motivator, in theory, clearly the real driver to participate is the monetary compensation! I mean, when you're nine and you're offered up a significant chunk of money, why not? It involved a full day, from 9 to 5, and I'd say he definitely earned his pay, but he said he'd be fine doing it again, so it couldn't have been that bad!
We arrived at 9am, and once another participant and her mom arrived, we got a quick briefing in the conference room before we all split off. The kids went off to do their stuff, and the moms were ushered off to separate spaces to do our part. I ended up spending a couple hours answering survey questions about a little of everything, from medical history, behavioral history, current living situation, moods, etc. Meanwhile, Jacob was answering similar questions and playing games that were part of the study tasks or practice for things he'd be doing later. Many tasks had opportunities to earn "prizes", in the form of plastic jewels and coins that would convert to money later. There was a set amount he was supposed to receive, but it was possible to earn more through these tasks. I think the main purpose is just to keep the kids motivated through a very long day.
We met back up for lunch, and they ordered in for us. Interestingly, the other study subject also had Celiac, which was an odd coincidence! Jacob and I tried some Chinese, though he ended up mostly just enjoying his white rice. After lunch, my part was done. He went back down for the most important part of his day, the brain scan in the MRI. While in there, he was able to watch a movie and play games, which all plays into the study in some way. In the meantime, I had visions of blogging, surfing the internet, and just relaxing, but instead it turned into a full afternoon of work. My boss had texted me in the morning to let me know about an additional task that needed to be done the following day when I was back at work, and in addition to laying the groundwork for that, I ended up spending hours going through emails and preparing for the next day. It was the last crush for the end of the year on top of a crazy day the day before when I completed data for six separate emails. I guess the good news was that it made it more manageable the next day when I was fully expecting to get out early (as we always do before a holiday), but due to certain circumstances we didn't, and but I still really needed to leave a bit early to get to my parents' house for the visit with my brother and his kids. I felt no guilt ducking out (even though we were told on the down-low it was OK) after working a full half day on my vacation day!
Just before 5pm, Jacob came back up from the MRI and we got our payments (yes, I get one too) in the form of a Visa gift card-type setup. I still need to figure out the best way to cash them out (as Jacob wants to spend some of his and I'd rather save our portion than spend it). Jacob did really well and his final payment was above average thanks to what he earned. I won't tell you the exact amount, but it's in the low three-figures, which is a pretty good haul for a kid. He got a t-shirt and one other interesting souvenir:
 |
| A picture of his brain! |
All in all, it was a pretty interesting day and we'll be doing some form of this for years to come. Phone interviews six months after the annual check-in, and then each annual check-in varies. No brain scan next year, but it'll be back the year after. My compensation goes down over the 10 years, and Jacob's goes up, which he's very excited about! Not a bad day's work, regardless!
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