a blended life

The year is sometime in the early 90's. I'm on a road trip with my parents and brother. Maybe we're going to The Dallas on our way to the coast. We do this a lot. We stop for gas and snacks. My dad returns from the gas station with a pile of crappy food and drinks.  He hands me a Slim Jim and says, "Want a petrified elephant trunk?" I laugh hysterically for probably way too long. In fact, I still refuse to eat Slim Jims and laugh hysterically when someone asks why.    Today was a milestone of sorts. Not the landmark ones, like teething and crawling (both of which have happened this week and I'm so tired and can't stand up straight.) She played in dirt. Not just because it was there, but because it was so much fun and I must eat those dead leaves, Mom. The other two girls never played in dirt. Or ate leaves. I tried to be cool about it. Failed. I'm torn between loving her curiosity and vivacity and reading the future inevitable messes and dirt parties. ...

I started this blog when Hannah was a year and a half old. She never slept. Fast forward nine years and my blogs posts are telling the same story-- this kid doesn't sleep. I think we clocked it m a total of three hours, but broken up over the entire night. Nine years ago I had a husband who flat out refused to get up for a variety of uninteresting reasons. Today I have a husband who offers to get up with Lucy and I won't let him because he drives a car and cures people for a living. Not something that should be done on no sleep, McFly. Plus we're all in the same room (Thanks, NYC!) so I'd wake up anyway.  Folks, my body is really tired.  I had a job interview yesterday. It was three hours long and included a demo lesson (given by me that sort of flopped), observations, 'coaching', and debriefing. And actual interviewing. It was so exhausting to prepare for and go through. {insert another tired comment} I have super mixed feelings about working right now. I feel ...

It's been one month and a few days since Dad died.  I'm the worst person to talk or write about feelings and experiences so deep and profound like losing a parent.  Most of my days and nights since the funeral have been spent in constant care of the girls. All of them. Lucy is teething horrifically and will scream herself awake ( and the rest of the neighborhood) up to five times each night. Leah continues to have endless piles of homework and drama from school, convinced she is being bullied when actually someone is just looking at her. Hannah decided to adopt her role as Middle Child with martyrdom and tells me everyday that she's been replaced by Jacob and Lucy. Both are handling grief in their own way, though Leah's way is to talk loudly about every detail and give unfounded opinions repeatedly. I secretly wish she'd stop.  They need me-- to get out of bed, run the house, play Clue, and be solid. It's been a year and a half of trauma and instability. Does th...

Confession: I really like blogging. I miss being able to document some of our shenanigans, failures, triumphs, failures and moves (hopefully there won't be a move to document for a really long time).  Other confession: I hit some blogging obstacles (blogstacles) that I'm trying to iron out. Old technology, lack of space, lack of time and even more pressing, lack of sleep.   I'm feeling a stronger urge to blog since my dad died last month. Maybe I don't know where else to put my words or maybe I live in house of REALLY talkative people and by the end of the day, I don't wanna hear anyone's voice. Even mine.  I grew up with a brother who talked nonstop and I'm pretty sure that has prepared to live with a group of external processors.  Anyway.  I think I'll post this and see how I like being a mobile bloggypants.  Here's a real time pic of what is supposed to be nap time:   And here are a few from this morning, when Jacob thought it would be quicker ...

Ahhh, 2016 is finally over. I did a family slideshow, like I do every year, and it was so painful I cried through the whole thing. The girls begged me to put trendy pop songs in it, so Justin Beiber accompanied some of my moments. Insert more tears. Even memories that were supposed to be positive and good were hard to look at again because I remember the constant ache in the back of my heart during all those times. It never left. I wish it would.  I'm worn out.  I've been up since 4 am (thanks, Lucy). I started to nod off again around 7, but by then Hannah was pulling on my covers and begging me to cut her orange for her lunch. Mom get up mom get up mom get up mom get up. Leah wants a ride to school. It's too cold to walk. Jacob runs out the door, eager to start a day of driving for Uber. Lucy fusses and fusses. I have a test today so we both have to get out the door, dressed and diaper bag packed, by 9 am. Leah doesn't get a ride. She's mad. Hannah has to wa...

I think I'm actually at a point where I can/want to/have the time for/feel inspired to blog again. Let's all agree the 2016 wasn't my best year. I'm ready to admit that part of my hangup with blogging is that I can't get my phone and blogger to stop fighting and let me post some pics already. I'm sorry. But my life is slip slidin' away over here in Brooklyn, and some experiences absolutely must be documented.  Like the time Leah had a category of apps on her phone entitled 'Meth', but it turns out she was confusing it with the word 'Meh'. It was all the apps she can't delete and never uses.  Or the time she didn't wear a coat to school and came home and announced the she "would wear protection next time." Gasp! Or how we have the world's cutest baby living with us, bringing tons of joy and happy. Or what about how Jacob is Doctor Franklin, Rheumatologist by day, and Jacob the Uber Driver ...

I know it's been months since I've blogged. I know it's not like me to go so long. I've started so many posts and didn't finish them. I had a baby. She's delicious and brilliant and intense and strong. She loves her sisters and dad and gets hauled around by me every chance I get. She spends half the night sleeping on my chest because I can't bear to put her down before I have to go to work. She smells like heaven. She has extra large opening in a heart valve that will require surgery soon, a topic that terrifies me so I don't talk about it. She is strong. She will be ok. She has been fighting for her life since the beginning. I started a job the day after we returned from Utah to see my parents off on their mission to Romania. It's a K-8 charter school in Bedford-Stuyvesant, a neighborhood in Brooklyn known for its low income families and crime. Most of the students live in the projects. Most of them don't know how to respond to an adult unle...