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You made biscotti for me when my father died and abstained from rent raising through an engagment, a theft, a sickness, a wedding, and a series of deaths.

You're talented and interesting and I enjoyed seeing you.

A Meme for a Change

I haven't done a meme in quite some time... but my new friend DAG tagged me and so I thought I'd comply.

The rules are simple:

1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on the blog.
3. Write six random things about yourself.
4. Tag six people at the end of your post.
5. Let each person know they have been tagged.
6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up.

Please note that it says "random" not "interesting"

Here we go:

1. I have 22 nieces and nephews. All but 1 of those comes from my own brothers and sisters. I am the youngest of 7 kids. Rob is one of 2. The kids range in age from 4- 25 and I joined Facebook so that I had an easy way to connect with them. They are convinced this makes me a weird stalker Aunt. Truth is, it freaks me out a little to be privy to the information they share.

2. My greatest heartbreak hit when my dad died in 1997. This loss was devastating and it took awhile before I could function normally. The heartbreak renewed when I had children- the loss was magnified and the pain reborn. I miss him madly.

3. And old beau wrote and recorded 2 songs for/about me. As he puts it, one worked and one didn't. It's strange to know those words are still afloat in the universe. We're Facebook friends now and I recently received disk after disk of his complete works. It's fascinating to hear the progression of his music over the past (gulp) 22ish years.

4. I am passionate about the idea that women need women. As I'm writing this it becomes pretty clear that this is tied to the fact that I have 4 sisters and while there is lots of love there, I don't connect with them in a way that I have always thought that I someday would/should. It's easy to gather with groups of women and have hours of laughter punctuated by moments of connectivity. It's easy, but important. It's more challenging to sustain relationships on a day to day week to week basis. Lives are busy and it's easy to not allow time to reach out to give and get support. When the path is open and clear it makes it easier to be a better mom, wife, daughter, sister, person. More challenging, but important. Women need women.

5. My kids are convinced that no chocolate is safe when I am near. They might be right.

6. Rob and I rarely celebrate our anniversary with gifts. We do, however, try to get away every so often to be together for a night or weekend. In 12 years of marriage I can't ever remember a time when we didn't have a great time. When we met we were in the same literary club in college. We both wrote poetry and stories. But not about each other. This year, on our anniversary he wrote me a poem. It tied together the past and future and I read it often. Often I'm amazed by the passing and growth in these 16 years of friendship.

There you have it- and I'm tagging ITFL, Catnip (when sh'e back), Velma, Dawn, Mrs. Chicken, and YOU! If you don't have a blog and want to play just leave a long comment...

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When I remember you, you're mid-story at my dinner table, telling us about peeing your pants during a t-ball game. Then I remember later, watching you drive by while I stood waiting for the school bus.

Smiling

I was playing with Picnik- fun!

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You opened the door to a community within the magic box that I didn't know could exist. You encouraged and explained and engaged- because that's what you do and who you are. It's really helped.

Thanks.

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Have you noticed that the gaps in my posts are expanding? This is the 1st stretch that I've had trouble deciding what to say about whom. So I stare emptily. I just finished reading a GNMParents contribution written by Double Agent Girl. (DAG has a swanky new look at her place. I had a drink or 2 with this lovely lady at Blogher Boston. She's energetic and fun-ny. And she's got talent- the photos I've seen are so pretty and the words flow like smooth melty chocolate. Mmmmm...)

Why mention DAG? Today she wrote about someone who saved her. And I got to thinking about saving and what that's looked like at different stages in my life. So I wrote this one. I don't pretend it's the same level of rescue- but this is where my brain went.

Winter is long and can be so isolating as my real life community goes into hybernation for months and months. The discovery of this active and supportive, interested and interesting community in the blogosphere has impacted my reality is a largly positive manner.

Saving? It might seem like a stretch (and again I say I am not pretending to be recued in the rawly real way that DAG was), but it's real in a different way. To those of you who doubt, I'll ask you to spend a winter in my shoes, er, boots.

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You ask a question that's puzzled you; eyes widening and smile flashing as clarity comes.

You're silly, generous, smart and creative.

My mystery boy. Don't let the shadow fall on you.

I love your crazy hair.

********
Happy Birthday, Clay!

You are something else- a fascinating enigma. Small bits reveal themselves and I treasure that understanding.

A triple layer birthday cake is coming your way, son!

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You say you still see me sideways, and I am still in that pub watching you look at me.

Though now the Punks are by our side, it's still you and me.

Still a deep flutter.

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Thank you, Rob, for not dying yet.

I love you so.

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Your powers of explanation and persuasion are developing strength. The proof? Your swiftly passionate negotiations that accompany every exchange.

You ask compelling questions. Your latest: who the heck is Jesus Christ?

We think you're pretty great.

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Your arrogance was evident in your opening sentence. Your anger at Boston's male social media elite seemed designed to forge or widen a chasm of resentment.

If you'd like men to come, change the conference name.

******************************************************

BlogHer Boston was my first experience at a blogging conference- and only my second social media conference. By and large I found the environment to be engaging and passionate and welcoming and open and interesting and interested and helpful. Only one exchange (of many) left me feeling blech.

I'm a fan of Girl Power. I loved my experience at the Danskin Women's Triathlon for that very reason. Women supporting women. Strengthening bonds and foraging friendships. RAH! RAH!! I am woman... and all of that.

Don't get me wrong, I was fine with a few men participating yesterday- but if there were a whole gaggle of men it would've changed the experience for me. I've written a lot about moms needing moms and women needing women. It's a passion of mine.

I went because of GNMParents. That's the place where I invest energy in effort to really develop community. Because women need women and parents need parents. Because I admire the contributors at GNMP who lay it on the line to share and grow and learn from and lean on the other great people who hang out there.

I wasn't promoting this space. Here... this is different. It's not for promotion. It's for me and I am completely fine and almost always comfortable with my small but loyal following. I like knowing you're here.

You are here, aren't you? (That's your cue to leave me a comment- just tell me one thing you've done in the past 48 hours...)

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When I called to speak to a nurse you asked what happened and berated me for not bringing my son to the hospital. Receptionist roles have expanded I guess.

I was scared enough to begin with.

Aidan

It's day 2 and he's almost back to normal- some swelling still in back but much better. I wish I took pictures yesterday. It's amazing the difference only a day makes. He was hamming it up for the camera today- yes, in fact that is a wife beater t-shirt he's sporting. It's his preferred pj attire.

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Your utility trailer's ramp crashed down on Aidan's head. He lies on a bag of peas to calm the enormous swell, his face cut and burned by pavement.

You're more like a dad to your grandson.

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Aidan looks like he got run over by a truck. He and his younger friend next door thought it would be a cool idea to bring the ramp down on their utility trailer so they could ride their bikes up and down the ramp. It's a heavy duty trailer used for hauling heavy equipment.

Cool idea.

Unfortunately, it was so very heavy it hit Aidan in the back of the head throwing him face first into the pavement. Enormous swelling in the back of his head, road rash on his forehead and temples... it was a long day snuggling on the couch with bags of frozen peas and broccoli and washcloths and lots of being hurt and afraid.

We're pretty sure he's fine. We'll wake him up a couple times during the night as recommended by his doc, and keep him home tomorrow because it hurts so much to touch. Then he'll be fine.

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I imparted injury when you left. I called, went, sat, told, listened and tried to answer questions that YOU should have answered. It hurt us.

Respect far lost.

Now, dust settled, I like your young wife.

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I haven't seen you in a couple of years, but I can conjure your smell with no effort. Lotion. Powder. Spray. Covering the scent of... age? Make-up? Self?

You were a saving grace, but now?

Removed.

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I might've been too young to babysit, but I did while she went to the local bar and drank and smoked and somehow made it home.

The 1st alcoholic I ever knew. It killed her early.

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You told me I should add more bananas to my bread. Today, I did. It's mushy and won't soon (if ever) cook through.

You're the most competitive person I've met. Insecure beneath, and not often kind.