SWDB: February 11, 2019

 

http://thesimplewoman.blogspot.com/

For Today...

Monday, February 11, 2019

Outside my window...
The sun is actually shining! It has been such weird weather in NH this winter (global warming). Warm like 60 degrees F then freezing in the 30s then zero then 55....this morning as I was trying to get Jack to put on his hat and gloves [a little passion play of the human struggle we like to enact every morning], he says, "Mom, winter is basically over!" "Um, kid, no it's not. We have at least two more months of winter left! Put your hat and gloves on!" [He did not. And, scene.}

I am thinking...

that the use of more than one exclamation mark is annoying (even though I do it) and the use of more than one question mark in an email is downright obnoxious! It really stresses a person out! It implies, "you dummy" after whatever they just said. Example: "Did you finish putting the dishes away?? [you dummy]." I think we should ban it altogether.

I am thankful...

that my children are growing. It is bittersweet, and as predicted, God is delightfully sweeping away all the memories of the trauma and fucked-up-edness that ensued in their years of being little, and all I am peacefully left with is the beautiful photos and the memories of their precious little bodies draped over a shoulder or snuggling into me on the rocking chair. [Not the screaming tantrums and fucking spoiled milk smell everywhere, the piles of filthy tiny clothes that seem insurmountable, or literally cutting shirts off Jack and throwing them away bc he had pooed so much.] I wish for baby moments again. I'm not gonna lie - the thought of swaddling an infant, soothing her, and then rocking her for an hour while I sing is a little slice of heaven. [I have been enjoying this with Baby Zachary, my bf-adjacent grandbaby.] But my children and I are having more fun together now - and we can do things I really like, such as outings, explorations, travel planning, and playing board games, card games, and car games [Laurel, you can imagine the joy I get with these game-players!!!]. They are finally learning to express their feelings in a verbal way that makes sense. Barely. But still, I can see we are making progress. And they can get themselves in and out of the car, the bed, and the clothes, and mostly the bathroom, without me. Phenomenal. Now I can breathe...for a split second.

I am wearing...

my verrry old but still looks new dark red Eddie Bauer sweater - I swear, their clothes last FOREVER! I wish I could afford to buy them more often! I always feel good in red.

I am creating...

...good grief, but there are a lot of projects underway. I echo Val's sentiment, it's all just possibilities and creativity laying around to inspire me [and NOT a mess of unfinished projects, ahem]. There are writing projects, art projects, sewing projects, the infamous "baby quilt" (a ha ha ha, but by God, if I have to sew it from my deathbed ** it WILL happen), unwritten cards that have been earmarked for this person or this (bygone) occasion. Cleaning projects, sorting projects, charity projects, office projects, gardening projects, and journals to document said unfinished projects. Actually, this is making me sick to my stomach. ;) Next question.

I am going...
to the dentist this afternoon. I love the dentist bc for 40 minutes, I cannot get anything else done...and so I have to sit and relax. It is such a relief to be in that chair, escaping from life for 40 blissful minutes. Well, the teeth cleaning doesn't exactly enhance the experience. But nothing's perfect.

I am wondering...

everything. As always. I read Mary Oliver's poem, "Worrying," and I truly meant to get something out of it, I did. I appreciated it because it is wise and she wrote it [may she rest in peace; and come back as part of my life]. But it's not like I'm going to quit worrying. That is hard-wired into my DNA! I am a worrisome Virgo, raised by a sensitive, creative Cancer and a well-meaning, workaholic Capricorn. One was Methodist, one Catholic. Both later Atheists, when I was longing for God. How the fuck am I supposed to escape worrying with that recipe????? It's a LIFESTYLE! The point is, there's a LOT on my mind. All question marks, no answers, as per usual. The one solid thing in my life is my strange little family: ex-husband, two children, aging mother, and half-time boyfriend. Together, they keep the gears turning. I love them.

I am reading...

Well you are not going to believe this, but I HAVE been grown-up reading! I started an Edith Wharton book I truly meant to enjoy but just don't. And then read wayyy into a book called Yoga School Dropout, which is like Eat, Pray, Love on yogic steroids. I am going to try to finish it, but am about 100 pgs from the end and I'm kinda done already. [Note to writer-self: know when to end.] And I finished (!) a tiny book called Seedfolks which I highly recommend to anyone vaguely interested in either gardening or building community...or if you need the accomplishment feeling of finishing a book. A beautiful book by Paul Fleishman.

I am hoping...

to purge the fuck out of my house. Of course I have no time, money (for supplies bc these projects always end up needing supplies, fucking Marie Kondo...), or partner to help with this. But a girl can dream. Maybe I can rope in Rachel....

I am learning...

to not wait for Coach to put me in....but just to run onto the court. So that's what I'm doing. And it feels great!

In my garden...

[i can't even]

In my kitchen...

are the remains of the two - yes TWO - adult-type meals I cooked for the children. Not that they ate hardly any. But at least they got to see what a real meal looks like! #howmanyfishsticks #howmuchmacncheese #saveme

A favorite quote for today...

"Don't accept that others know better than you." - v wise fortune cookie

A peek into one of my days...

One of my favorite things...
is writing. I need to do this so much more often.

Post Script
If you don't know how to get to your goals, just keep walking forward. You may wake up one day and be there! 

Thank you for reading.
~Ally

SWDB: October, 2018

 

http://thesimplewoman.blogspot.com/

For Today...
Tuesday, October 23, 2018

Outside my window...

It is grey. I dropped off the children who are going on a trip with their father tomorrow. I arrived at work and feel like I have traveled 1,000 miles already. It is 8:00 a.m. I am exhausted.

I am thinking...

that I have no idea where my life is going (as per usual). A minute ago, I was buying a house with my boyfriend, kids, and mother to move into. Then someone else got our perfect house. Now we are totally stalled out. I haven't seen bf in over a week for various outside reasons. And a lot has happened in that week. I don't know what I am doing or where I am going. I am so used to this feeling - but it doesn't mean I like it.

I am thankful...

for my beautiful children. They are growing and "becoming" so fast, I can barely keep up. Lucinda wrote me a letter that said, "Dear Mom, I would like to do more reading and writing with you." Yes, please, yes! Jacks just transitioned to a big-boy bike with training wheels, and for the first time in his life, he is showing some hesitation and caution, riding slowly to avoid toppling on the corner turns. Incredible. He is always 1,000 mph speed ahead! I am also thankful we just had a lovely if terribly, terribly brief visit with my sister Lauren, who came to help Mom start the "cull 50 years of stuff in the house" project. Thank you for all your hard work, Lauren, and your tender love. I am going to pretend you aren't leaving this morning. Let a girl dream.

I am wearing...

an old outfit, a junky, not-really-for-work outfit of burgundy sweat-type pants and black and white flannel shirt, ala 1990s. I am so tired I want to be in bed, so this outfit is like being under the covers. ;)

I am creating...

a better home for my kids. Lucy said this week, "I feel more at home at Daddy's." :( We need to deep clean my house, throw out half the clutter shit, and start over. I don't know how long we will live in this apartment, so I better put some love back into it.

I am going...
to scream if this god-forsaken cold doesn't go away this week. I am on day 18, hacking and coughing, sniffling and weary. W.T.F. Super Virus. Fucking super virus. I am also going to quit smoking starting tomorrow morning. Wish me luck.

I am wondering...

so many things. If I am hindering the progress of my little ones by not having enough money to send them to gymnastics, singing lessons, soccer, basketball, Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, etc etc etc. Whether S will ask me to pay more of the share of money, even though I don't know how I could. Whether my bf still wants to be with me. How to get everything done at work. How to clean my fucking house, have some down time, see my friends and bf, put to bed my garden, get over this cold, help Mom pack her house, and organize my life - oh, and dye my fucking hair - all in 6 days while they are gone. Seems unlikely.

I am reading...

the Richard Scarry books to my kids last night, even though they weren't listening - they were deep involved in some Barbie warfare/obstacle course scenario. But Lauren and I enjoyed digging deep into the portal of our brainholes and remembering the stories from our wayyyyyy distant childhood. Very satisfying. Good ol' Richard Scarry.

I am hoping...

for some Rachel Time, Hoka Time, a massage, and a haircut. For some money, a trip to Nebraska with the kids, and good Christmas memories. For a beautiful, big-enough house for us all to live peacefully and happily in. For my heart to get sorted out.

I am learning...

What am I learning? Hmm.......

In my garden...

are two bigggg swings that I bought the children, that I very much do NOT want to leave out in the snow all winter to rust. I want to bring them in, but that will require a bunch of non-existent room in my house to appear. Could this happen???? Maybe....

In my kitchen...

are so many papers stacked up that I want to burn the house down. My endless torture in this entire life are the stacks of paper I cannot seem to control, which burden me with their gimme-gimme and their endless tasks that I should be doing. If I could find a way to escape the monster that is paper piles, I might be a more balanced, happy person. I really have no hope of this happening in my lifetime.

A favorite quote for today...

Be like the tree and the birds will come. ~Rumi [I think.]

A peek into one of my days...
Oh nobody wants to see that shit.

One of my favorite things...
is when Jack likes to lie on me like a blanket and cover me, snuggle into me, and body-hug me. That boy is the most complicated person in my life and he has stolen my heart. I love him FIERCELY. I would definitely lie in traffic for him.

Post Script

Thank you for reading.
~Ally

"No! No! No! No! No!" x infinity (he said)

Epic motherhood disaster. Brought on by a tiny, three-foot minion who has the uncanny, almost otherworldly ability to get up under my skin and kick around in there. All was going well enough until moments - moments!! - before leaving the house for our day. And then all hell broke loose. So many disasters ensued. Multiple altercations, multiple calm downs, multiple pull over the car on the side of the highway incidents, multiple get myself and my other minion out of the car so we could escape the wrath of the acting-insane one. Lord Jesus. Finally dropped off the kids at daycare. Tried my best, "Honey, what were you so mad about," only to be rejected in my parenting-book-inspired tactics, AGAIN, and then of course, they could not be happier for the daycare lady. Which is fine. Because I would not wish on her what I had just gone through - could not afford the cost of care for that.

Then a good 45 minutes of hearty self-flagellation in the car while driving back to work, a spiraling down the black hole of despair while crying hysterically and wondering what the fuck have I done with my life and why do I have no mothering skills whatsoever, after studying and babysitting, nannying, and caring for the children of others - rather successfully - for 38 years before having my own. Now I am 5 years into the experience of caring for my own tiny dictators and I still have no fucking clue what I am doing. And yes, I read every book, watched every episode of "SuperNanny," and followed every technique from the doctors and social worker and even the smug teacher.

Ugh.

Does everyone feel this way?

"The precious angels!" says everyone else. And I think....who are they talking about??

So now it's 8:34, and it's time to start MY day. And out of my 100 energy unit allotment for the day, 93 have already been spent just getting here. Sooooooooo.....good luck with that.

~out.

Something in the air?

Oh I have a big feeling today is going to be one of those days. Did "ok" with the kids getting out the door. A little yelling and aggravation, but no crying, no temper tantrums, no weeping mother, etc. Something somebody told me recently is that you are responsible to help your kids grow up to be a functioning adult in society. Meaning, not a functioning kid! So no need to worry about how insane they may act NOW....it's just all baby steps toward adulthood and as long as we have our shit relatively sorted out by age 18 or 20, we should be in the clear. We shall see.

But whether it's barometric pressure, the grey clouds forming overhead, the pressure of the clock with today's IEP appointment in the middle of my workday and three trips to Henniker required...., the fact that I have not paid rent yet because there is no money to pay it....., or the frustration (everlasting) of not getting timely answers at work - though I literally BEGGED in pathetic pleas this time - or from the garden guy. Well, I just have a feeling. There is no one on my wing of the office today. Quiet and productive sure, but also lonely. Two good friends work near me - one quit last week (!) and the other is working from home, attending to happy home events.

I have felt rather unmoored lately. The last couple weeks have provided several emotional challenges. Maybe something's in the air. Lot of brick walls. Lot of closed doors. And conversations hanging out there with only silence to answer them. Ugh.

So "what have you gained in that time"? Grateful for...

- Having my kids back at my house until Sunday. I really missed them the last four days.
- Knowing several people who went through the divorce road with their kids and all survived. Some even thrived and were quite happy once they could start over.
- A visit to Bob's garden yesterday with the kids. Wow, he is really a farmer and has the most beautiful, lush garden of vegetables and flowers. Also visited Rachel's phenomenal wild-n-wooly flower garden Sunday night. A balm to my soul, both of these encounters. And Rachel was right - letting a gardener talk to you about their garden is very fun.
- The chance to blog again. Nice to be talking to the great wide world.
- A brief talk with my sister last night, on speaker, while the kids were taking a pink color-bath. "Hi Aunty Lauren!" (Lucy) "Have a great night Lauren!" (Jack) So sweet. I can't believe she and her family are really coming in July. I probably won't believe it until I see them in the airport coming down the hallway. I haven't seen her or the kids in three years. I haven't seen Benjamin in five. It's not right. But seeing them in one month is SO right.
- The opportunity to try to mend a relationship that had suffered a slight. I think we are okay. Time will tell.
- Two *free* visits with a financial planner who is getting my finances all sorted out, thankfully!
- Sunny days and starry nights.
- Decent health.

Wary, a little depressed, and also thankful.
~Ally

Reality check

Today my heart is momentarily gripped by fear for the safety of my children. There is a such thing as knowing too much. Read the thoughts and feelings of a sexual predator this morning in a novel. And shuddered at all the many things that can happen to my dear babies (God forbid) when I am not there to protect them. I was thinking about this concept anyway - about how they are in school, on the bus, with the daycare people (the mom I pay and absolutely trust, of course, but also everyone who comes in and out of her home and her life, many of whom I do not know), with friends, with a babysitter, anywhere really. Even with their dad, they are perfectly safe and lovingly cared for, but I am realizing there are so many moments of their days that I don't see. Things they do that I only hear about in preschooler story-snippets. Oh, Lord Jesus. Send angels to guard and guide them - three for Lucinda, probably six or more for Jack! :) Send a hedge of protection around them to keep them safe and let them live and learn in a gentle, untarnished, easy way. No trauma, no drama. The world and living this life are harsh enough - may their childhood at least be calm and sweet and full of good memories.
~Mama

 

just a Saturday afternoon

"Universe in Motion," by Scott Snyder

Lucinda: Can we go through the sky?

Mom: Yes, that is outer space. It's a black sky with all the stars and planets and where the sun and moon live.

L: No, THROUGH the sky and through outer space.

M: Well, it goes on forever....no one's ever done it.

L: Well I could do it.

M: Yes, you could.

photo by Scott Snyder Photographyhttp://scottsnyderphotography.com

Grandma Mama

 

photo from web



Excerpt from article:

"What's the nicest thing mom has ever given you? Chances are it won't top Linda Sirois's gift to her daughter Angel Hebert: a healthy baby boy. The Portland Herald Press reports that the Maine grandmother, 49, acted as a surrogate for Hebert and her husband Brian and delivered their son Madden by C-Section on August 17..."

Read the rest of this amazing story.


Oh World Wide Web, I love you.
~Ally

absolutely worth reposting

Prayer for Our Daughters

by Mark Jarman
May they never be lonely at parties
Or wait for mail from people they haven't written
Or still in middle age ask God for favors
Or forbid their children things they were never forbidden.

May hatred be like a habit they never developed
And can't see the point of, like gambling or heavy drinking.
If they forget themselves, may it be in music
Or the kind of prayer that makes a garden of thinking.

May they enter the coming century
Like swans under a bridge into enchantment
And take with them enough of this century
To assure their grandchildren it really happened.

May they find a place to love, without nostalgia
For some place else that they can never go back to.
And may they find themselves, as we have found them,
Complete at each stage of their lives, each part they add to.

May they be themselves, long after we've stopped watching.
May they return from every kind of suffering
(Except the last, which doesn't bear repeating)
And be themselves again, both blessed and blessing.

"Prayer for Our Daughters" by Mark Jarman, from Bone Fires: New and Selected Poems. © Sarabande Books, 2011.

Fevering and Teething

Baby's home with slight fever and swollen legs from her four month injections yesterday - damn Western medicine and its healing ways - and teething, to top it off. So we are reading a few poems by James Stevenson. Mama likes these:

Coming or Going

The screen door screeches.

The screen door slams.

Coming or going,

Going or coming,

The sounds are the same.

But what a difference

It makes to me --

Your going away,

Your coming home.

Dawn

When the moment comes

When you can tell

The sky is blue, not black,

You'll see torn bits of it

Scattered through the trees,

Fallen like confetti,

As if to say

Night is not forever--

In fact, within one hour,

A grand parade is coming

With white clouds marching.

-------------

Wishing you will feel better this morning, Darling, as Mama goes off to work and you slip off to dreamland at Christine's. I love you.

Lucinda: illuminated

photo by Scott Snyder

Lucinda: illuminated
by Allison Snyder

You are asleep on my chest,
your tiny body laced onto mine.
You are a mysterious traveler from a foreign land.
A halo of fluff covers your head;
in your delicate, lavender eyelids,
I can see the past, the future.
When your eyes open, light shoots through me.

Your heavenly bits are wearing thin, my darling,
now four months in this world.
You stir when a shiver of life runs through you.
You smell more of Dreft than of the ether.
Soon, your otherworldly memories and magic will disappear.
By the time you can speak, you will no longer be able to tell me
where you've been, where you were going.

"I love you!" I whisper urgently:
it's all I can think to say,
yet it encompasses everything.
"You're mine," and immediately
I know you never were,
but what I mean is: You're home now,
and I claim you.

100 times = beginner status: thoughts on breastfeeding (and poetry)

I had the wonderful good fortune about two years ago to be invited to the intimate living room of Donald Hall, multi-award-winning poet and writer, and poet laureate of New Hampshire from 1984-1989. His wife, Jane Kenyon, also a poet who died way too young, could be felt in the house as well, her spirit saturated into every wall and room, decoration and memory, clinging like a ghost.

Mr. Hall spoke of his writing and revision process, explaining how he edits his poems a minimum of 100 times before considering them good and on the way to finished. I could not believe it when I heard this - 100 times! I can't say I have edited my own poems more than a handful of times, if that. His reworking speaks not only to his commitment to writing and refining his craft, but also to the process of a poem's birth itself...how it emerges in stages sometimes, and becomes its own animal whom you must get to know bit by bit.

Two days ago, I realized it was Lucinda's "day 10" in the world. I was thinking if we practiced the breastfeeding together about ten times a day, that would make 100 times already finished at the process. (Generally, methinks it is best not to tally these things, especially when one is lacking sleep and feeling like a veritable prisoner in one's own house, at the whims of a tiny little queen who only just days ago appeared out of nowhere...) And suddenly I remembered what Donald Hall said about his poems. And I thought, "Practice, practice, practice, and now I am only just a beginner"...which was strangely comforting.

We - Lucinda Grace and I - are getting the hang of this new job we share (me in feeding, and her in eating and processing the food). Breastfeeding is hard work and does not - contrary to popular myth - come naturally. You have to learn how to do it, and figure it out with your baby, and then work at it until it becomes natural. It gets easier every day and we both feel more confident now that we will be able to accomplish our goals.

I am thinking about practice in many contexts now. And realizing that 100 times at practice are just the start.

Let us give ourselves a break as we learn new ideas and activities. Let us consider ourselves both babes to this world and struggling poets, who will one day be discovered for our genius, but in the meantime, we will do the toil of practicing. It will pay off, I just know it.

Blessings to you Donald.

~Ally

---------------------------

An old life

by Donald Hall

Snow fell in the night.
At five-fifteen I woke to a bluish
mounded softness where
the Honda was. Cat fed and coffee made,
I broomed snow off the car
and drove to the Kearsarge Mini-Mart
before Amy opened
to yank my Globe out of the bundle.
Back, I set my cup of coffee
beside Jane, still half-asleep,
murmuring stuporous
thanks in the aquamarine morning.
Then I sat in my blue chair
with blueberry bagels and strong
black coffee reading news,
the obits, the comics, and the sports.
Carrying my cup twenty feet,
I sat myself at the desk
for this day's lifelong
engagement with the one task and desire.

Mombie

Mombie: Zombie mom, ala Night of the Living Dead; wandering soul who cannot distinguish night from day, complete simple sentences, or recall if teeth were brushed; state that leads to inability to remember baby's name, puffy eyes and frequent bouts of crying (the baby cries too), and ironically, the inability to sleep.

~Note to other Mombies: Do NOT attempt to assemble helpful electronics or install batteries at this time...can lead to throwing away of said electronics and random thoughts of hatred.

~Note to Non-Mombies: Frequent bouts of crying may also be joy related. There's really no way for you to tell. Keep a few feet between you and Mombies at all times for safety. And if approached by one, feed it before proceeding.

Ally

:)

Every little thing

Every little thing now feels like a miracle. Today I got the news that my second genetic blood test came back negative, which means no sign of risk for neural tube defects. For those of you not in the baby world, this means, no big chance of having a child with severe developmental problems or physical and mental defects at birth. I breathe a sigh of relief, but it is so much more than that.

How could this baby not have a major life-threatening problem? How could this baby be so healthy and growing at a perfectly steady rate? How could there be a baby inside me??

It is a miracle every time I think of it.

You might say these thoughts are morbid or pessimistic, or even creepy. But these are the true thoughts and fears of motherhood. The books warned me about it. What they don't tell you about is the sheer joy and elation when your baby seems to be coming along fine! It puts everything else in perspective.

I am feeling good and also grateful. I am achy, yes, and growing a huge belly and boobs at an alarming rate. Things hurt in places I have never felt before. I'm not even sure what all is in there, even after the informative and beautiful National Geographic video I watched called "In the Womb." I have trouble sleeping and wake up at 4 a.m. for an urgent trip to the cereal bowl with three Charlie horses in my leg at once! My clothes don't fit; I can't move the driver's seat back far enough so I don't have to worry that a sudden airbag deployment will crush my tummy...

BUT THE BABY IS HEALTHY. Ahhhhhhhh. Thank you Jesus!

All is well.

I have not experienced morning sickness. This is incredible in itself. I am doing okay with pain management, despite not being able to take most of my helpful pain meds that usually quell my fibromyalgia. I am really enjoying all foods, without heartburn, and still able to put my leg up on the bathroom counter every morning to stretch. Though bending down for the damn soap, which I drop EVERY DAY in the shower is getting a little challenging.

Scott and I are in midst of a several-month cleanse and purge of the house. Calling all garage salers - come May, there will be one big-ass yard sale on Mom's front lawn in Laconia. The only things that will survive the purge are items of rare beauty, blessed practicality, or deep love. Oh, and the baby warehouse I have amassed over the last 14 years.

Baby will get his/her own room. The rest of us will jam ourselves and our belongings into the other two rooms of the house.

BUT THE BABY IS HEALTHY!

Oh, and we thank God and the universe, and all the well wishes and cosmic goodness being sent our way from you and all you represent.

Coming soon into our future: maternity jeans; the dreaded putting together of the crib and IKEA bookshelves; carpet cleaning ala a rented Rug Doctor; finding out the sex of the baby (hopefully!) next week; the need for an old-lady shelf grabber thingy so when I can no longer bend over and get back up, I can still retrieve everything I've dropped; soap-on-a-rope!; an expected spontaneous purchase of a little outfit in pink (or blue) after finding out the sex; and as "What to Expect..." predicts, "continued absentmindedness." Niiiice.

Oh, did I mention I can feel the little booger moving around now? It's week 19 and I feel him/her every day. Not kicking or anything like that, but just moving. My little rock. My little fishie. My little Bun.

I am singing to him/her every day and also playing the lullaby tapes that will one day lull him/her to sleep (God only hopes).

So that's me and the Bun, in a nutshell. "Where he kept her very well..."

Love, Ally

Happy Birthday, Mami!

(photo by Scott Snyder on Mother's Day, 2009)

Today is mi madre's birthday and she is better than ever! Happy birthday to the greatest Mom in the world!

Love, Ally

oxxo

Thanks and Dreams

Tip: Check out the great new painting "Woofstock" at Time with Tascha.

Hello friends~

Thought I'd do a brief gratefulness list:

1. Scott's daughter Hillary and her husband Dustie are doing well with the kids. But say a prayer for them, as they are grieving the loss of Dustie's brother who passed unexpectedly.

2. My friendship with the little old man is coming together nicely, and I think of the time spent as "volunteer work." Doing nice things for him is helping me as much as it helps him.

3. Mom and I plowed through two weeks of old moldy boxes - remnants of several previous cross country moves - and pitched about 80% of all of that stuff. Don't worry, Lauren, we kept all the memorabilia and great children's books. We cleaned and repacked everything to keep and we will be mold free very soon!

4. No hives from the mold. Yeehaw!

5. Despite uncovering MAJOR political and idealistic differences between me and my old friends reclaimed on Facebook, I have rekindled some old friendships. Bringing Past Allison and Present Allison together must be good for self-development. Right?

And a few dreams:

1. I would love to have a little curly-haired daughter with big green eyes someday; we will walk hand in hand through Autumn leaves in the park, chasing the dogs and kicking leaves wherever we go. We will tell secrets at night and sing every song we know in the dark, with a candle burning (just like Lauren and I did with our mom). She will probably be too smart for her own good and emotional like me (and Scott), but she will be irresistible because of those qualities.

2. We hope to find a big farm house with a mother-in-law cottage, on a few acres in NH or Vermont. Mom will live with us part of the year, and have enough money to go back and forth to Mexico and stay with Lauren and Co. We will have some dogs and maybe a llama or three, a few rascally goats, and a brown-eyed cow.

3. I want to have a burial plot for Dad at the Blossom Hill Cemetery (also called Calvary Cemetery) in Concord. I want to be able to stop there on the way home from work and say a few words to him, tend the flowers, and rest.

What's on your heart these days?

~Ally

My Sister: a mom AND a composer!

From Lauren:
-----

Here's my latest song creation, sung to the tune of "Downtown" (trying to get kids to give me another half hour of sleep!):

"Downstairs"

You can watch TV
You can drink chocolate milk
When you will go downstairs....
Downstairs!

Color a picture,
You can play with your babies
Or build with your blocks...
Downstairs!

You can play with Barbies,
You can share them with your sister;
We don't want no fighting,
And we hope that you will kiss her!
Please get along!

The baby is crying now,
He wants his pacifier
And to be rocked to sleep,

So go Downstairs!
Things will be great when we're
Downstairs!
Nobody's late to go
Downstairs!
Everything's waiting for you!