FOR THE FOSSIL KIT THAT CAME WITH THESE GLASSES. YOU KNOW, THAT BIG BLOCK OF CONGEALED SAND YOU GOT HER THAT COMES WITH THE HAMMER AND THE CHISEL, THE ONE WHOSE BOX SAID 'EASY CLEANUP' IN BIG BLOCK LETTERS, BUT DIDN'T MENTION THAT THE EASY CLEANUP REQUIRED THAT YOU TAKE IT TO THE NEAREST BEACH BEFORE ATTEMPTING TO DESTROY IT.
I can't WAIT until you have kids. :)
Shortly after school let out last year, I received a letter in the mail informing me that the district would no longer bus Zoe to the Boys & Girls Club. I found myself hyperventilating as I read the letter.
Not only is the Boys & Girls Club a whopping $25 a year, it's where she has been going for two whole years, and it is just about the most stable and predictable thing in her life. Plus, her brother goes to the day care, so they get to see each other more, and it is convenient for me to pick them up there.
My family and I forged bonds with the caregivers there... my entire support network revolves around them. Miss Leslie is more reliable and flexible than my father and my brother combined. Miss Renee knows more about Jacob's diaper rash than I do. Mr. Dre has taken Zoe to more ballgames than I have. Miss Jamie will sometimes make me late for work when we begin mindlessly chatting about our kids. Miss Marsha will buy the kids gifts to mark special occasions. Miss Katie will sometimes call me at work just to BS about Jacob. Miss Kris even lets me slide on tuition now and again.
I moved from the neighboring school district believing Zoe would continue to be bused to the club. And then I get The Letter....
I spent a good deal of summer fretting about it. The district was offering after-school care on the school campus, but it would run me "$10-$15 a day." Well, which was it? And now I had to pick up my kids at different locations, leaving the north side of the city, driving through downtown at rush hour, to hit two locations on the southeast side of the city.
And I dreaded hearing Zoe whine that she wouldn't see all her friends at the club anymore. Or get to see her brother. Or buy snacks.
I spent many hours this past summer drafting angry letters, then rewriting them, and then sending them out to anyone who I thought would listen. The superintendent. The principal. The director of transportation. The incoming PTG president. The board of directors. AND ALL OF THEIR ASSISTANTS.
I researched the minutes of the board meetings to see why they might have forced such upheaval in our lives. There were no details availalbe, just "DISCUSSED TRANSPORTATION TO THE BOYS & GIRLS CLUB." I bitched to the day care people. I bitched to other parents. I bitched to my father. I researched other day cares my kids could attend together. I considered the cost of going back to court knowing Joe would protest my moving Jacob. I wrote more letters. I wrote to my congressman.
Summer is not an easy time to get a hold of educators or politicians. But last week I finally heard from the assistant superintendent. She seemed sympathetic to my plight, and tried to talk me through the options, and though I shot down each one rather harshly ("THAT WON'T WORK FOR MY FAMILY"), she was pretty firm in stating politely that I was shit out of luck.
So, this morning, my Zoe got dressed, and I had purposefully kept this whole ordeal from her, thinking I could come through for her at the last minute. But I failed. As she stood there in her colorful skirt and new sneakers, I helped her put clips in her hair and took a deep breath.
"Zoe, I made you a nametag. On it is your room number and teacher."
"OK, Mommy."
"If you get lost today, just show it to a grownup and they'll help you find your way."
"OK, Mommy."
"And.... and.... there's money in your bookbag for lunch."
"OK, Mommy."
"And you won't be going to the Boys & Girls Club after school."
"What? Why?"
"When school lets out and they ask you were you are going, tell them you are staying for the after-school program and show them your nametag."
"Will I go back to the Boys & Girls Club?"
Another deep breath. "No, probably not."
"Oh, good."
After I inserted my eyeballs back into my head, I felt my guilt fade. I realized how proud I was of this beautiful little girl. And I didn't feel so bad about letting the school district win this one.
The first summer I was back in Pittsburgh, I was pregnant. I went to our company picnic at Kennywood, but I could ride nothing. NOTHING.
The second summer Jacob was still an infant, but we had several adults in our group so I held out hope I'd get to ride. Then one of the kids got sick and took home with him half the adults. And then it rained. And rained. I rode only the Pittfall. IN THE RAIN.
This year, when I bought my tickets in July, I was completely convinced that I would diss the kids and ride my ass off. Then I was in a car accident a couple of weeks before the trip. Didn't even get to do the Pittfall. But I did ride some Pirate thing in Kiddieland that nearly made me hurl.
But so far this was the best trip since my post-Florida days, and we covered only a fraction of the park. Jacob got to ride for the first time, and the kids in our group were very accommodating, even though some were too tall for a few of the Kiddieland rides.
Liam, Jacob and Cowboy Joe.
Jacob isn't too keen on the plastic horse business.
Zoe shows him how it's done right.
The girls show Jacob what all the fuss is about.
By mid-afternoon, we can't get Jacob off the rides.
"For three strange days
I had no obligations.
My mind was a blur,
I did not know what to do.
I think I lost myself
When I lost my motivation.
Now I'm walking 'round the city
Just waiting to come to."
-- Three Strange Days, School of Fish
This shirt is ugly as hell:
And I'll tell you why, besides the obvious clue of its appearance, but it's kind of a long story.
Zoe is off in New York with my sister. I'm kind of getting used to all her traveling this summer, but not really. I have dreams where I wake up because she's shaking me awake to ask if she can have something to drink because it's 3 in the afternoon and I haven't gotten my ass out of bed yet to feed the child, but I'm tired as hell and I wind up yelling my head off at her, and then I ACTUALLY wake up and she's not really there, in the home, and I realize I miss the kid. And in actuality it's not 3, it's usually closer to 2.
And I miss yelling at her.
It's not the same yelling at her over the phone, because I can hear all the static of her putting the phone in her lap, and then a long pause when I'm done, and then her "Yes, Mommy," when she thinks it's safe to put the phone to her ear again.
So, to distract myself from all my missing Zoe, I did what I wanted to do back during the month she was with her father: I went clothes shopping.
This is no easy feat for me. I hate it. And last week I was in a car accident, so I've been in a considerable amount of pain. But after visiting my doctor and getting all drugged up, I had little excuse to not go out and replace all my torn undies and ill-fitting jeans.
It was not so much a surprise for me to learn I had gone up a size in jeans. What I have been in denial about is my boobs.
From the time my chest sprouted as a teenager until I had Zoe, I was a perfect size B. I jumped two cup sizes with her, and I'm guessing I jumped another when I had Jacob.
I couldn't find anything that fit me without showing off these unwanted assets. On my way out of the fitting room I spotted a top on the discard rack and took it back in to try it on. It was baggy as all hell, but it didn't scream HELLO I HAVE BOOBS, so I took it off and looked at the tag. 2X!!!!
I headed straight for the women's department. No more misses, juniors, or just plain old female clothes for me.
What I ended up going home with was a bag full of clothes that was not quite flattering, but at least I had some tops that would downplay my lack of proportion.
When it came time to hang these clothes, I had to purge my closet. That's when I came across the aforementioned beast of a shirt. I was reminded of the time when I suddenly grew boobs, well into adulthood, and one of the few shirts that fit me was that hideous number. And I wore it every time , it came out of the dryer because... it was one of the few shirts that fit me. I hated it when I bought it. I hated it each time I wore it.
I can't wear most of my closet now. My boobs bust open the button-down shirts, and now my ill-fitting bras make the rest of my clothes look like I'm busting out of them.
As much as I enjoy my children, there's no way in hell I'm having another one. I can't afford the additional boob space. And the weight roller coaster is weighing on me.
No way in hell I can handle more kids without ending up tipping over involuntarily. And as much as I miss Zoe now, I can't imagine kissing her or Jacob goodbye once their so-called adulthood kicks in.
Zoe takes a turn with Uncle Rob on the riding mower.
Jacob seems to want to... but not so much.
Even baby Robby gets a turn!
The closest Jacob will come is sitting on Mom's lap.
Oh well!
My dad and I dropped off Zoe for her, like, 100th trip this summer.
This time we stopped in Erie to deliver her to Aunt Kelly, who will be taking her back to Syracuse for the week.
Good luck Aunt Kelly!
We spent a day at the beach while in Erie, and after much dining drama, settled on Eat'N'Park before we parted ways.
I spent a good deal of July planning for and executing a camping trip for my boyfriend Liam and our four collective children. And I dedicated a week afterward for the fallout. It wasn't as bad as I expected it to be, the trip itself. Jacob made his debut as a camper, and all the kids got along for a week in close quarters. For the most part.
The highlight of the trip for me was seeing a bear. My family has been going to Parker Dam State Park for as long as I have been alive and then some. Nearly all of my relatives have seen a bear at some point, and this was my year.
The evidence:
No really, there's a bear in that photo:
C'mon, you can see it!
Another shot:
I will be updating to include lots of photos of what has happened in the past month... I have just been trying to catch up on summer.
Here are some photos of our camping trip at the end of July.
BEYOND THE SPILLWAY
MOM AND JACOB FIND A COMFORT ZONE AMONG THE ROCKS
COUSIN TOMMY
GINA, MOLLY, ZOE AND DAPHNE
JACOB DISCOVERS FOOD ON A STICK
LIAM STUFFS HIS FACE, LITERALLY
ORANGE EYES, THE RACCOON FROM THE CABIN'S UNDERBELLY
LIAM ENTERTAINS THE TROOPS ON A RAINY DAY
ON THE TRAIL
DAPHNE WEAVES HER NEEDLE OFF
LIAM LOVES LOOMS
DISCOVERING UNCHARTED TERRITORY
JACOB WANTS OUT OF THE WOODS
GETTING HIGH
ZOE'S PERCH
A TREE IN A TREE AND THEN THREE
BEFORE THE DEERSPOTTING TRIP
WE'RE STILL TOGETHER!
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