Celebrity Crushes

1. Kiefer Sutherland: He's Canadian, he's a good actor, but, let's cut to the chase- he is damned sexy. Normally smoking and DUIs would be double deal breakers, but I'd make an exception for Jack Bauer. Oops, I mean Kiefer.

2. Ed Helms: (aka Andy from "The Office") He is so very funny, so vulnerable, so adorable. My husband is aghast that I picked him. He thinks it reflects poorly on him that I have crushes on nerds.

Wow, can that really be all I've got? Updates pending, people...

Hang on

If you're the praying kind, please say some extra special prayers for a little guy named Tucker and his family. He is currently in the NICU, making progress, but still in need of lots of luck and positive energy. His maternal grandmother just had a stroke. This family is going through more than their fair share and I am crossing fingers that all goes well for this sweet family. You can check out his progress at hangontucker.blogspot.com . Thanks.

I'm working on it

I was on such a roll, posting every day, some days twice. Then I wrote the novella of blog posts on Sunday. On Monday, I wrote nothing. I guess it was just blog-exhaustion. In any case, it provided me the opportunity to ponder perfection and my constant quest for it.

Over the weekend, our 7 year old neighbor had a seizure. The family is Orthodox, and they had to get permission from the Rabbi to drive to the hospital. It made me contemplate a whole lot. Firstly, obviously how tenuous and precious health is, and how we never appreciate it when we have it. I implore you, please take a moment today to truly accept what a huge gift your health is, and take a minute to enjoy it. You may feel too fat, too short, too wrinkled, too old, too tired... but if you are breathing without assistance, if you are medication free, if you can walk... oh, the list is endless when it comes to gratitude. But my point is that it is really the simple things that we should be embracing.

It also made me contemplate the nature of community, and about how absent it is in LA. Is it absent everywhere else too? I really miss exchanging more than a polite hello with the neighbors. We were so happy to have the opportunity to help our neighbors over the weekend, and it opened up a tiny bit of a relationship. I'm grateful for that, although I hate that it came at the expense of their child's health.

The need to call the Rabbi highlighted the perfectionist issue for me. I hate that they felt they had to make that call before just hopping into a car to care for their son. I obviously am missing an understanding of that culture, but for me, it was a lesson in seeing the forest for the trees. Is that an apt metaphor? I too get so caught up in the rules sometimes that I miss the whole point.

I'm working on it.

I will never forget March 28th

Two years ago today, we brought V home from her 2 month stay in the hospital. I learned a lot from the experience, although I am resentful that this knowledge came at the expense of my baby, and our family. 2 years later and I still can't wrap my mind around "everything happens for a reason". Don't ever tell that to a parent of a child on life support.

So many memories come flooding back, although truth be told, they were never far from my mind. The first time in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. Learning to wash our hands properly. Waiting by the incubator every day for doctors to round. The crash course in medical lingo: gavage, CPAP, nasal cannula, G-tubes, hep-lock, PDA, PFO, hydronephrosis, ROP, room air, parenteral (not parental) nutrition, NG tube, bradycardia or bradys... Changing the smallest diaper- a preemie size diaper nearly falling off of the tiniest bottom imaginable. The tears. The tears. The tears.

Every day brought new emotions which I won't stoop to compare to a roller coaster. Because a roller coaster is a fun thrill ride, and it's voluntary. This was hell on earth, albeit with moments of pure beauty and grace. She gained 3 ounces- wonderful! Then, machines beeping, a team rushes in, has she stopped breathing? Is her heart still beating? Starting out in Bay 1- the most acute cases. Moving to bay 6- victory, she's getting better! Pumping breast milk every 3 hours, crying in the pumping room, divided by a cloth partition from the other moms. We could all hear one another crying, and often that was enough to set the rest of us off too. We were as supportive as we could be, considering we were all in need of serious support ourselves.

Occasionally I'd make a friend- another mom who had a baby clinging to life. The first woman I spoke to in the NICU was so nice, and I envisioned us getting our babies together for playdates when everyone was OK. Then he died, which I found out from behind that cloth partition in the pumping room. She was sobbing to her mom, discussing the donation of his organs. Pumping must have been sheer torture. I cried silently and thanked God it wasn't our girl.

Then there was the family who always brought the nannies to see their preemie, rarely ever the mom. I was disgusted. Did they not realize the gravity of the situation? Did they not care about their baby as I cared about mine? I later discovered that the reason the baby was born early was because the mom developed cancer which had completely metastasized. They had to take the baby early because the mom was dying. She wasn't visiting him in the NICU because she was in her own hospital room, and it wasn't on the maternity ward. Nothing is as it seems.

My rage was channelled at parents of other babies in V's bay. The parents of twins who tried to convince the doctors to keep their babies longer because of the childcare, even as they got dressed up, hair/makeup, and went out to dinner every night. The poor foster baby who was evidently in the NICU because of his mom's drug abuse. The dad who spent the whole time by his son's incubator on his cellphone, even though cellphone use was not allowed.

Then there were the families who broke my heart: the teenaged mom who didn't have money or a clue, the poor immigrant family who barely spoke English, the young woman who couldn't handle the stress of the hospital and went back to work 3 days after her daughter's emergency birth. The Orthodox baby who hadn't yet been named, for religious reasons. I kept begging them, in my head, to name him. For some reason I couldn't handle him not having a name.

Every baby was either doing worse or better than ours, and both brought up powerful emotions. Devastation for the families who had kids worse off. And raging jealousy of the families who were pulling through relatively unscathed. Whenever a baby was discharged, the baby was wheeled out in an old fashioned carriage, and everyone (within reason) stopped what they were doing to clap and say congratulations and good luck. It was like a mini parade, a little streak of joy marching through the NICU. Every time I watched a baby go, I clapped louder than anyone, but I also cried harder too. I wanted that to be us so badly. And when it finally happened, I of course couldn't stop crying.

For weeks after V was born, I resisted adding the NICU phone number to my speed dial. I guess it was denial- if I don't accept the number, maybe I won't need it. But we did need it; we called at regular intervals during the rare hours that we weren't at the hospital. And now, 2 years after we left, I still haven't deleted it from my cellphone. I scroll through to find a number sometimes, and stop at the NICU number, contemplating deleting it for once and for all. But I haven't been able to bring myself to do it.

I resent the fact that my 4 year old thinks that all babies start out with tubes down their noses and that they all live in the hospital for months. But the experience has not been without gratitude. Our understanding of the fragility of life is profound now, and although we forget sometimes, like everyone, we always come back to an awareness of HOW. LUCKY. WE. ARE. I think the reason that I don't delete the phone number is that it serves as a reminder of the many amazing doctors, nurses, therapists, etc who devote their lives to taking care of the most fragile among us. And the knowledge that these people are out there brings me intense hope. And when I think back to the shocking generosity of my family (my mom stayed with us for nearly 4 months that year and was inordinately helpful), and my friends (dressing as maids and cleaning my apartment? the memory brings tears to this day) I can definitely see the silver lining.

How will we celebrate our baby today? By doing what every other family does: cajoling the kids into actually eating their dinners, breaking up squabbles over toys, and dressing my daughters dolls in the tiny preemie clothes that my little one wore in the first tenuous months of her beautiful life.

Searching for a direction

It's been days since I've blogged about one of the many awesome people who positively impact my life. I'm changing directions a bit since the inception of this blog (1 week ago! ha!). I'm torn, as I want to continue to acknowledge amazing people, but at the same time, the structure of writing about awesome people every day sometimes feels like a machine, and also a vitamin. And I hate doling out vitamins. Not that anyone's reading this, but...

However, since today is my Grandma's birthday, and since she is an innately awesome person, I must celebrate her a bit. She had 9 kids in 20 years, one of whom died at age 5 of leukemia. There was very little money to go around, but evidently lots of love, as my mom and aunts and uncles all adore her to this day. She is a grandmother to 19, great grandmother to 18. She never misses a birthday or Christmas (8 kids + 19 grandkids + 18 great grandkids= 45 people! And I'm sure she acknowledges other friends/family too!). She is exceedingly patient with all of the kids. She is warm and funny and easy to be around. We're lucky to have such a cool matriarch in this family.

time to burn

Enough has been written, continues to be written, about Tiger Woods and Jesse James and their wandering penises. (Is is peni- like the plural for Elvis- Elvi? Or walruses- walrei?)

But I can't help but add my 2 cents. Both of these guys have small children. I have small children. I don't have a freakin' second to myself. True, I'm typing right now, but it's 5 am and I have a two year old in my lap. Not exactly alone time.

My point is, who has time to burn? If you have time to have an affair, you have too much time on your hands. Idle hands are the devils tools after all. But how did they find the time in the first place? For one affair, let alone several! For the hundreds of text messages they sent?

If you're on Facebook you find that a lot of people have time to burn. Oh, I'm not talking about the people who post a couple of status updates each week. I'm talking about the people playing Farmville and Bejewelled (?) and Petville and Gardenville and Farkle (what the fark is farkle anyhow? I don't know- I don't have time to investigate!). I can't help myself- I judge these people! I don't think they're horrible people, I just can't help thinking they have too damned much time on their hands. And I'm jealous. I want some of that time!

What would YOU do with more time?

grey envy?

I swear this actually happened. I couldn't invent this if I tried.

An older gentleman approached me today. He said "I've been admiring your hair and had to come closer to get a better look. It looks even better up close". I thanked him. He continued, "I'm an artist and I've been marvelling over the colors in your hair and how beautifully they blend together. My wife is over there and she is really struggling with going grey. I'd love to show her your hair to give her an idea of how good grey can look."

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have enough grey that even old people notice from across the park.

What else is there to say?

Guilt

I thought that taking time each day to acknowledge wonderful people would be a good thing. I certainly meant for it to be. But now I'm bogged down with guilt over who I haven't yet included. Will they be hurt that I haven't mentioned them yet? Are people taking stock of the order in which they are acknowledged? That some days I list lots of things I love about someone, and other days I write about just one quality?

It was only a matter of time before my neuroses kicked in.

Beauty is as beauty does

I had exciting plans for this morning- a facial! It's been 4 years since I've had a facial, and I need it. OK, so I don't need it. Need is poverty and famine and disease. But I do need to rejuvenate lest I have a little breakdown from attending to everyone else's needs constantly.

I finally booked the appointment, and literally no sooner had I booked the aesthetician and babysitter, we got an opportunity to get V in to see the new endocrinologist- at the exact same time as my facial! This endocrinologist is in high demand, extremely busy. It was going to take us months to get an appointment. We couldn't pass this up.

But what are the odds on the frickin' timing? I am not an overly vain person. 4 years, people! And it's been 4 months since I've had my hair cut or colored and I've turned into a damned silver fox. OK, not even a fox. Just a dilapidated version of my former self.

But this coincidental timing thing was too much for me to take yesterday. It just underlined the fact that these appointments define our lives now and that there is no room for me.

The whole beauty question gives me pause. I live in a city defined by vanity. My friends out here are disproportionately beautiful. When I was auditioning full time, or working on a show, I was in the beauty groove- gym, hair, makeup, facials, fashion, etc etc etc. When you're on that train, you notice every flaw. Now that I'm a mom, my kids needs supercede my need to look good. Natural is better, right? Who needs makeup, hair color... My kids and husband love me for me... These thoughts seem to last until my roots have grown in an inch or more. Then I have an alarming reality check. I. Just. Look. Old.

The idea of transformation is such a part of our culture at the moment. Like "The Biggest Loser"- it wouldn't be an interesting show if they just needed to lose 10 pounds. Doing things on a grand scale is what it's all about. I think I do the same thing with the whole grooming thing. I live for the transformation that comes when I enter grey and leave looking 10 years younger. I'm the reason all of those TLC shows exist.

We went to the appointment, navigated a new hospital, met a new team of doctors. Dr. G seems great- wonderful with the little one, communicative with us. He comes highly, highly recommended, both by doctors and patients.

My disappointment was short lived. I have a facial to look forward to in 2 weeks. Now, to figure out my hair... My big girl, the most awesome of awesome people, gives me the benefit of the doubt and sees my grey as blonde. Whenever she plays with a blonde doll, she calls it the mom doll. She is the most beautiful creature in the world and I hope she always knows it. Right now she is blissfully oblivious to beauty, the rare girl who doesn't play princess. She doesn't care about her hair, doesn't care about anyone's looks.

I could look at her all day.

So lonely

Best. Song. Ever.

And also how I've been feeling. The particular predicament of our family leaves me feeling constantly isolated. I see people at school getting together so casually, constant playdates, the easy rapport between parents, and I want to cry. The little one has so many therapies and appointments which keep us on a tighter schedule than others. It breaks my heart that I'm not providing the big girl more social opportunities. It's triage- attending to the most serious issue at all times. I try to balance it out, but I'm failing every day.

The upside to this isolation is that my kids are doing so amazingly great that I also feel isolated from people who are going through a lot with their kids. I don't want to complain about how hard it is for us, when we have friends with kids who have serious challenges.

Having friends over for the first time in ages on Saturday was definitely soul- refreshing. And R's return after 5 days away is exactly what I need. He is such a wonderful partner, fantastic daddy- a GOOD MAN. He is hard working, creative, a good listener, amazing cook, attentive husband... And one of the most awesome people I know.

I know, gag me, right? After 10 years I'm not supposed to still appreciate and adore him so. But what's not to like? I can accept that listing off the patently awesome people in my life- kids, husband, friends- is probably pretty boring for the 3 people who are reading this. Sorry, suckas. They may be obvious, but they are obviously AWESOME!!! In a couple of weeks it'll really get interesting...

Birds of a feather...

Our writers group is utterly precious, and I adore each of the women as individuals as well as the 4 of us as a group. Right now I can't stop laughing at the fact that K & I both locked ourselves out of our OWN DAMN BLOGS on day 2 of this little adventure. M is probably deliberately deleting her account as I type, and S... Does S ever make a mistake? Hmmmmmm. Seriously doubtful. Which brings me to 2 awesome people I need to acknowledge: S & K. S because of AND despite her inability to err, and K for so gracefully laughing, especially when the joke's on her. (as well as a zillion other reasons- all of you!)

"The only disability is a bad attitude"

Up at 5:30 this morning, pleased that I'd have some time to write this blog before the big girl got up. Full of inspiration and energy, I fed the little one, then sat down to write. And I couldn't log on. "Invalid password" again and again. I knew it was right. I just set up the account yesterday. I tried and tried and tried, to no avail.

Needless to say, my attitude needed an adjustment. Then, I read my dear friend's blog, in which she detailed her irritation and need for an attitude adjustment. Which reminded me of Scott Hamilton's words, "The only disability is a bad attitude".

I think I first came upon these words in the context of "special needs" kids. Conjuring images of the short bus and alienation. I am super sensitive about special needs. So sensitive that I'm not ready to write about it yet.

So for now, thank you M for reminding me that the color of my day is always in my hands. It was a hard day, but a pretty good one, and I can thank my pretty, funny, talented, runner-Mommy-writer friend for steering me in the right direction. M, you're an awesome person!

Oh, and the password? It was right. The login name (one that I chose only 1 day ago) was wrong. ENTIRELY my mistake. So, K, we all have blonde moments. And, S, I'm writing this fully dressed. I'll have to warm up to blogging before I let it all hang out...

Spring is sprung, another tantrum begun...

The start of spring, the start of 30 days of blogging. The Little One woke up at 3am, and while she was up I plotted my first blog entry. It sounded so good! (At 3 am. In my head.) I envisioned the kids playing quietly while I typed and enjoyed a chai latte.

-REALITY CHECK- What was I thinking? Have I ever (in the last 4 years and 10 months) experienced so much as 5 minutes for an uninterrupted email?

This is how the morning is ACTUALLY playing out:

5:30am- The Little One is up. Putting her fingers in my nose to wake me up. Repeatedly. Then diaper time. I leave the room for one brief moment to dispose of said diaper. I return to her scribbling all over the couch in HOT PINK marker.

A handful all morning. I'm exhausted by 7am. But my meditation on letting go of perfectionism is working to... perfection!

Sooooooo, my goal here is to spend a little time each day writing about the awesome people who make my life so wonderful. The plan is that this will help balance out the inordinate amount of complaining and WHY ME-ing I do on a daily basis.

My awesome person today is my dear 2 year old. Although she has challenged me beyond all measure this morning, she also provides me with untold joy each and every day. A jollier smile has never been seen, and her giggle is to die for. It is astonishing to me that a kid that has spent such a solid fraction of her young life in the hospital has perhaps the sunniest attitude of anyone. I have a lot to learn from her and I'm awfully glad she's my girl.