Playdate

Talking To Your Child About Death

Turns out, it’s not too bad.  Don’t get me wrong, death is bad and it sucks and I hate it and I don’t ever want to talk about it ever.  EVER.  But when it is right in front of you – turns out you can handle it.

My 17 year old cat, Murphy (aka The Smurf) died this morning.  She had been having “episodes” for a while now – she’d totally zone out, not move, not eat, not drink, not acknowledge you – but she’d always bounce back.  This morning we came downstairs and Will opened the powder room door to let her out (since she’s hit Kitty Dementia Stage we had to confine her at night lest we awaken to cat poop all over the house. God Bless Her, she never pissed anywhere inappropriate.  Girl had control of her bladder to the end).  I guess it took me about an hour before I realized that she hadn’t run out to meow loudly at me to tell me that she needed to be fed.

I went in and she was lying on her “bed” (a soft towel in the corner of the room).  One of her legs was splayed out kind of weird and she seemed really out of it.  I tried to get her to get up, but it was obvious that she was not going to be moving.  I guess I knew right then.  I was glad we didn’t have anything planned for the day because I really wanted to be with her.  She’s driven me crazy plenty of times, but all she ever was doing was just being her own cat self.   

I laid down next to her and was crying.  Will came in and was like, “Why is she just laying there like that?”  I said, “Well, you know, she’s very old and very tired and she’s not feeling well today.” He said, “Is she going to die?”  I couldn’t believe how calm I was when I answered, “Yeah, I think she is probably going to die today.”  I also couldn’t believe how calm HE was when he simply said, “Really?  Why?” I explained about how living creatures are only alive for so long, and at some point it is time for them to die.  And cats live only so long, and people live so much longer, and Murphy had lived VERY long for a cat and now it was time for her to go.  He took the news way WAY better than I could have even hoped for and then just periodically would stop by as I was laying next to the Smurf to shout, “Is she dead yet?”   I had to laugh, and she would have too, if she wasn't, you know, DYING.

I had called Bill to let him know that I thought she was on her way out and he came home to help deal with the boys and any questions.  At one point I realized I hadn’t even brushed my teeth all day so I ran upstairs to do so.  Wouldn’t you know that she died in that couple of minutes?  I think that cats are programmed to go into isolation for things like giving birth and dying and me hanging around made her want to stay.  She saw her window and she took it, much as she would see her window when I would stupidly abandon my cheese, milk or other dairy product when she was in the room.  Hey, you left.  That’s MY cheese now.  Man she loved cheese. 

Will was very clinical afterwards.  He felt her, looked in her eyes, declared, “Yep, she’s dead.”  Milo LOST it.  He cried for about an hour and wouldn’t leave my lap.  At one point he declared, “This is the WORST THING in my life”. Which I think means that it is the worst thing that ever happened to him.  Which, when you are four, I guess your kitty dying is. 

I have let the boys stay up late tonight – we bought snacks and popcorn and are watching a Blues Clues video and all sleeping together.  We lost a family member tonight and they (read: me) need some love.  I guess it might seem a little ridiculous to mourn a cat, but there you go.  She was our sweet little kitty cat.  She was there through so much and I can't believe she won't be around as we go on.  Cats are great - they don't ask much but they bring joy and love and someone to sit with you when you are 24 and broke and trying to get through school, or you are 34 and pregnant and figuring out how the hell you’ll ever take care of a baby, or you are 40 and learning how to teach your children the lessons of life. 

My Cat is Dying

At least it seems so.  I picked her up this morning and she's lost about 99% of her body weight.  She won't eat.  She drank some water.  She's lying under my dining room table and won't move.  She's had episodes like this in the past couple of months - bad day, then good week.  I don't know why - this seems like the end.

For those of you who know the Smurf Cat, you know I have a love/hate relationship with her.  I never really wanted her, but took her in for a friend for what was supposed to be a couple of weeks.  This was 1991!  But, you know, I am a little bit sad (OK, I'm crying.)  that she's going to be leaving me.  Seventeen years is a really really long time to live with someone.  Other than my mom and siblings, there's nobody I've lived with longer.  And, just like a family member, who you really don't choose but you learn to live with anyway, I love her.   I can replay the moments of my life based on where she was, where she puked, how bad she was pissing me off at the time.   She  (read: I)  has weathered all my storms, and has come out okay.  I was 24 when she came into my life - I didn't know what was ahead of me.  I still don't.   But that pain in the ass cat was always there.

One time I went out of town and Bill's family came to visit (Which, WAS A COMPLETE COINCIDENCE.).  I was on my way home - Murphy, being a cat, had no idea when I was going to be getting in.  I'm told that about 10 minutes before I arrived she plunked herself at the back door and started meowing and wouldn't budge until I walked in.  How does a cat know you are 15 minutes away on the interstate?   I don't know!  How does a cat know that NOTHING will piss you off more than if she screams outside your newborn's bedroom at 5AM after a night of no sleep?  I don't know!  They are mysterious...

She's sort of not understanding that it's me who is trying to give her a towel right now to snuggle with.  She's all, "Who are YOU?"  Which is probably for the best - she doesn't need to have the image of me screaming "GET THE FUCK OFF THE COUNTER!" in her head as she goes gently into that good night.  Better that she doesn't remember me and our good times together.  Sorry, Smurf.  You REALLY were a royal pain, but I do love you, and will miss you, terribly.

(P.S.  If she happens to live I TAKE ALL OF THIS BACK!)

Another Funny Easter Pic

Peep Show!

Start Your Engines!

The NASCAR race season kicked off today with the 50th running of the Daytona 500.  You know my boys are psyched!  #12 Ryan Newman (or as Will and Milo refer to him, Ryman Newman) came from out of nowhere on the last lap to win his first race in over two years.  Good for him.

I'm taking the boys to the speedway for a tour while we're down in Florida next week.  They'll get a big kick out of it.   

Back when I was a kid, I loved going to the races.  It cost $5 to drive your car into the infield to watch.  You could only see the racecars as they banked around the turns so folks would climb on top of their truck/van/car roofs to try to get a better view.  The seats in the stands were something like $25 - too rich for our blood - but compared to the tickets for today's race which started at $300, quite the bargain in retrospect.  I don't even know if they let the riffraff park in the infield anymore.  When did racing get so fancy?

Anyway, I don't care - I'm glad the races are broadcast nationally so I don't ever have to miss The Great American Race.  I think I heard that they are thinking of building a track on Staten Island.  If so, I'm totally making all of you go with me.  Start saving your pennies.

Boogity Boogity Boogity!

Where to Go?

So, next year is our 10th anniversary.  We started a tradition after we got married of going someplace new every year.  First year we went to Sausalito and stayed at The Inn Above Tide which sits directly on San Francisco Bay. 

It was so beautiful.

The following year we went down to New Orleans and stayed up all night, eating amazing creole food, listening to fantastic music and, oh yeah, drinking.   So fun, but it got to be too much, even for me.  I think we were there for 4 or 5 days and we had to take a break after the 2nd or 3rd night.  Luckily my sister was living in Baton Rouge at the time so we went to visit her.  I had the most amazing catfish sandwich in Baton Rouge.  I still think about it.

The third year, I was pregnant with Will so I didn't feel like going anywhere too far (ironically, two months later and two months MORE pregnant, we flew to St. Thomas for a wedding) so we went to Cumberland County, NJ.  What's in Cumberland County, NJ?  Why the Museum of American Glass, of course!  Who knows?  I was hormonal.

Anyway, our trips for anniversaries 4, 5 and 6 never materialized.  We had a baby. 

Then we had another baby.   

Probably we didn't want to leave the babies alone for a long period of time.  Definitely we were tired.  Maybe we didn't even really like each other very much anymore. 

For our seventh anniversary, Bill's mom came to NJ to stay with the boys so we could go to Bermuda.  Technically we had been there before, but not for an anniversary, so we let that slide.  We stayed in a cozy little cottage on Harrington Sound.   

We would sit out on our deck at dusk - one night a sting ray swam by.  It was so cool.

Last year, we took the boys with us to Lancaster County and then to Philadelphia.  In Lancaster County, we slept in a caboose. 

This year our anniversary falls during school's spring break, so we're bringing the boys along again.  We were considering New Orleans again, toyed with the idea of San Diego, but finally decided to road trip to Canada.  Two nights in Montreal, one in Ottawa, two in Toronto and then one in Niagara Falls.  Can you believe I have never been to Canada?   I can't wait.  Especially for Niagara Falls.  Bring on the cheese!

I have already started scoping out places for 2009 - the big 10.  Where should we go?  I've always wanted to visit Rio de Janeiro.  It looks amazing. 

I hear good things about Buenos Aires, Argentina.  Or what about something on the Adriatic Sea?  Croatia is supposed to be fabulous.

I'd love to go to Spain.  Or maybe we could go back to St. Martin, where we honeymooned (and ate the best food I've ever had in my life).  Or should we go to Mexico?  I hablo a little espanol....

Well, I need to start planning.  Where was your favorite vacation?

Gimme a "V"...

 

..."O" "T" "E"!

Maybe I'm a dork, but I love election day.  I love to vote.  Since I turned 18 and registered to vote I have not missed voting in any Democratic primary or presidential election and maybe only one or two state wide races.  I was hit or miss for a while with the local elections but since putting down roots in South Orange 9 years ago, I don't think I've missed a single one.  I'm the idiot who shows up for the BOE elections when folks are running unopposed.

I tell you this not because I want you to pat me on the back or buy me a drink (ok, well, scratch that second part) but because I feel it's so important to exercise our right to cast our ballots, even when it doesn't appear to matter.  Because the fact that we can vote matters.

It still amazes me that there are people alive today who were born when women in this country, except for in a handful of states, could not vote.  The nineteenth amendment was ratified in 1920.  My grandmother was a toddler.  That boggles my mind.  And not too long before that, black people were considered property, not citizens.  As recently as the '60's we needed a federal law to ensure that they were actually ALLOWED to exercise their rights to vote.

There are still Republican dirty shenanigans, and that whackadoodle Ann Coulter would love nothing more than to disenfranchise women, but I guess it says something about our country and how far we've come that the two front runners for the Democratic nomination are a woman and a black man.

Not that either one of them should get your vote because of their gender and/or race.  It irritates me to no end that we (blacks and women) are assumed to be such mindless lemmings that skin color and sex are the overriding factors in our decision making process.  Yes, all the New Hampshire women got weak in the knees and ran sobbing to the polls to vote for Hillary Clinton after she got a little choked up.  Black women either betray their gender or their race depending on whether they support Barack Obama or Clinton - Lord knows they couldn't just have a personal opinion. 

One theme which I've heard repeatedly goes something like, "Is Hillary the Best You (Women) Can Do?"  Like she's got to be Margaret Thatcher, Mother Theresa and Joan of Arc all rolled up in one in order to be given serious consideration.  I don't think Obama's been subject to it as much, but certainly Jessie Jackson and Rev. Al Sharpton were treated to the same kind of disrespect during their presidential runs.  Nevermind that we've put up with 250 years of any old white dude being able to throw his hat into the ring - let a minority or a woman dare to do so and if he or she isn't the best thing to come down the pike since George Fucking Washington, it's well, really, why do you people even bother? 

I mean, seriously, millions of people voted for ROSS PEROT and he was batshit crazy.  Mike Huckabee thinks we should amend the Constitution to be in line with what God wants.  Which, good luck figuring that one out.  Oh, wait, ask George W. Bush, because God talks to him.

For fuck's sake. 

That bar's set pretty low, people; both Clinton and Obama can clear it easily.  My vote's going to Hillary, though if Barack takes it all, I will support him.  Now, if a certain somebody can keep his megalomania in check - (not saying who, but sounds like "Half Tater") - the Democrats may have a shot at not getting clobbered in November. 

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Hope everyone is having a wonderful day!

This is Journalism?

I used to watch network news all the time in my 20s and early 30s but it got so damn dumbed down and sensationalistic that I stopped.  I also had a subscription to Newsweek for over a decade which I canceled for the same reasons. 

Last Thursday I was watching the local ABC affiliate's 5 o'clock news so I could get an update on the weather (We had plans to travel out of town, but the ice storms brought those to a screeching halt).  They were doing a story about the Democratic Presidential Debate that took place in Iowa that day.  Rather than inform us about the various candidate's views on a pressing national issue (I dunno....Health care coverage for children?   The mortgage collapse?  Fucking Iraq?) the journalistic wizards over at ABC decided to talk about Clinton's laugh.  Yes, folks, she laughed!  Film at 11.

You can see the clip here, but basically what happened is the moderator asked Barack Obama how he reconciled his self-stated "break from the past" candidacy with the fact that he has hired many of Bill Clinton's former advisers.  Somebody started chuckling (one of the other candidates) and then Hillary laughed, made a comment and laughed again.  The newscaster giving the story actually said, and I am not lying, "You can hear Hillary cackling here."  Excuse me, what?  CACKLING?  Oh, no you did not.

First of all, for the love of god, the woman laughed.  WTF is the big deal?  Other people on the panel and in the audience were laughing too.  Are we talking about Joe Biden's CACKLE?  Bill Richardson's?  Would we ever?  

Secondly, Obama threw a zinger right back at her, and everybody laughed more INCLUDING her.  You can hear her.  She was joking around, she laughed, and she laughed again when he joked back.  Are we talking about that?  Noooo...instead it's all about this bizarre, grotesque "cackle".  Oooh, look at the witch as she rubs her hands together and cackles with glee.  Bwwwaaaahaaaahaaaa.

Lastly, really?  This is objective journalism, ABC?  Deriding the laughter of the only female candidate in a disrespectful, clearly biased way (the men were cackling too!).  Are you kidding?   I expect this kind of crap from the talk radio/political TV wingnuts and from right-wing lunatics with a computer and internet connection but nary a cogent thought in their heads.  But this is ABC News.  Peter Jennings is rolling in his grave.

This kind of crap makes me so mad I can't see straight.  So far during this campaign we've had to hear the shocking (SHOCKING!) news that Hillary Clinton, in fact, has breasts.  And this isn't the first time we've been subjected to expert analysis of her laughter.  Of course her marriage is always open to scrutiny in a way that no other candidate's is.

I've had it with this nonsense.  Talk about her Senate record, her initial support of the Iraq war and subsequent change of heart (a flip-flop, if you will), bring up the health care debacle during her husband's administration if you must.  We want to hear facts, people, you know, like you learned about in Jernalizm Skool.  Not that her laugh scares you and you saw her boobies once.  My husband is pissed too.  Every time one of you writes or says something sexist and irrelevant I send the Clinton campaign more money.  It's adding up.

Thanks

So, what's everybody cooking for Thanksgiving?

Can I just say how much I love this holiday?  Sit down, with loved ones, and EAT!  And the food --- stuffing?  Mashed potatoes?  Is this not heaven?  There is too little gravy in this world!

I'm always interested in what other folks decide to cook for their Turkey Day Feast.  This year, I'm going simple and not making anything fancy or time-consuming or that would require me to look at a recipe.  Why?  Number one, because I'm still completely disorganized even though I moved back into my house over 2 months ago.  I can't find my cookbooks or 75% of my kitchenware.  Number two, because we are planning to go to the parade in Manhattan early Thursday morning, so I must have dishes I can either make the night before or that can cook in just a couple of hours after we get back.  Otherwise it will be a Charlie Brown Thanksgiving, complete with toast and popcorn.  Number three, oh really, do we even NEED #3?   I just don't feel like it, ok? 

I did all of my grocery shopping today (Tuesday) so all I have to do tomorrow is get some dining room chairs.  And wash sheets and towels.  And clean the bathrooms.  And vacuum.  Aaaargh.  Even when I try to simplify, I still have too much to do.

Anyway, here's our menu.  Please share yours, because maybe I'll want to borrow a recipe or two.  For NEXT year.

Turkey Breast (not a whole turkey) baked with apples and onions
Salmon (baked in whatever kind of sauce Freeman's Fish Market has tomorrow)
Mashed Potatoes
Stuffing (From a bag.  Sue me.)
Carrots (Simmered on the stove top, in apple juice and cinnamon - my kids LOVE this)
Asparagus (roasted in olive oil with salt and pepper; or steamed and served with melted butter)
Wheat rolls (Whole Foods)
Whole Foods "home-made" gravy (Like I was EVER gonna make my own gravy)

A little wine, some pie, seeing my nieces (and my boys with their cousins)...it's going to be great.  I hope the weather holds and we can make the parade, but if we don't, that just means more sleep for me.  Either way, I'll be thankful. 

She's Gone to the Birds

Back when I was pregnant with my firstborn, I had this revelation that at some point my child would ask a lot of questions about things I don't know much about.  (This is different than asking me questions about things I don't want to talk about - that I was not prepared for).  Specifically, I pictured us taking walks around the neighborhood and my little son asking, "What's that tree, mama?  What's the name of that flower?"  And being that in 4 decades on planet earth I haven't retained much beyond: rose, tulip, daffodil, daisy, oak, maple, some kind of evergreen, palm tree, dandelion, grass, I went to a bookstore and picked up these little pocket guides from the Audubon Society:  Familiar Trees and Familiar Flowers.  I also grabbed Songbirds and Familiar Backyard Birds because while my knowledge of birds is a little better than my knowledge of flora, it's still rather lame.

Well, my eldest is now five, and I can count on one of my hands the number of times I've picked up these books.  I'm still an ignoramus when it comes to the botanical wonders of New Jersey.  Every spring you can still find me out in my yard, looking puzzled and muttering to myself, "Is that poison ivy?  Is that?  Leaves of three, let it be..."  You could also hold a gun to my children's heads and I would NEVER be able to tell you the names of the shrubbery and other plants growing around the outside of my house.  I can identify the dogwood in my back yard and the holly bush in the front yard.  The rest are:  some green-leafed things, some red leafed things, some other stuff.   Oh, there's some IVY too.  That's easy.  And I know that the big tree in my front yard is an ash but only because the tree guy told me so, when he came by to chop down this poor tree's sisters after they died and threatened to make our roof their final resting place.

Anyway, last weekend we were hanging out at home and noticed a ton of birds eating on our lawn, obviously getting ready to migrate, or already en route.  The kids (and the cats) were very interested in watching the birds as they zoomed from housetop to yard to tree branch to yard.  It dawned on me that this might be a great opportunity to dust off one of those little pocket guides and learn my young'uns some names of birds.  Unfortunately, I had brought the books up to the cabin a couple of years ago when I mistakenly thought I'd be doing something up there other than hanging on a boat and drinking beer all summer.  So, I was SOL until I remembered that my mother in law had sent Will the identical bird guide one year, not knowing I already had one.  I mean, how would she?  It's not like I carry it around for quick and easy reference and/or ever astounded her with my encyclopedic knowledge of the nomenclature of the avian world.

I found the pocket guide and together the boys and I identified the European Starling and the House Sparrow as most of the birds on the lawn.  We were also visited by a female Northern Cardinal and one crazy-ass Blue Jay.   A word to the wise - you're going to have the read the descriptions.  You can use the one picture they include per bird only as a starting reference since the plumage may be different depending on the season or, of course, the gender of the bird you're looking at.  The Starling's winter plumage, for example, differs from its spring plumage and the picture in the guide.  Who knew?  Well now, I do.

Today I was very excited to see some new birds.  We are getting an interesting mix, probably because they are migrating and also because I'm suddenly paying attention.  This morning's visitors were two more female Cardinals, two more insane Blue Jays, a Northern Flicker (which was extremely cool) and what I am pretty sure was a White-Breasted Nuthatch.  Not to be confused with moi, a White-Breasted NutJob.

Am I going to turn into the crazy old bird lady, wandering around in my robe with my dog-eared copy of the Audubon Pocket Guide to Birds?  Is this what happens when you hit 40 - you start developing Old People Hobbies?  What the hell's next?  Shuffleboard?  Bingo?  Cataloging my physical ailments in excruciating detail?   Reading the obituaries to see if I know anybody?

Sigh. 

Well, the Flicker was really cool.  I didn't take a picture of the one in my yard today, but this is what they look like:

Pretty birdy.