Such A Rare Thing, Radiant Child...

2011. Officially a blur...

I feel like this year flew by at the speed of light...I know it was an important year too, historically and societally and personally too... Even so, in looking back, it feels like only yesterday that I was noticing a world full of Marky Mark's sisters from The Fighter...or driving three hours to a roach motel in Rhode Island only to vehemently turn down the windowless, fire-trap of a room, hop in the car, gun the engine and drive right back to New Jersey 15 minutes later, my kids laughing the whole way...and wasn't it seconds ago that we had "The Clap-Out" for our Class of 2011 5th graders at Washington School...and I could swear it was just last weekend that Susan, Mary and I ate Smith & Wollensky take-out on our beds, an ice pack to Susan's head...then there was the fluke October snowstorm, mass hysteria and cancelled Halloween, but not before I could rock my Mrs. Mia Wallace look...and my Oktoberfest dirndl...and my Boy George feathered braids (2011 was apparently the year of the masquerade, maybe that's why it went so quickly...)... And here we are now, the Holidays almost completely behind us and 2012 within reach...

Like I said, 2011 is officially a blur...

The end of the year, however, is always crystal clear

in my mind, because it is this week every year that I reflect upon my life and where I am...and where I was this week 12 years ago now -- December 1999. Most of you know that at that time I was awaiting the birth of my first child...and on January 1, 2000, she came to me. My first baby, my only girl, my truest love...who knew one person could be so many things to me, but she was...and she is even more to me now. Not just the loving and giving and empathetic and open-hearted girl anymore...she's still all those things...and she's still trustworthy and loyal and unapologetically straightforward...but, outside of being my daughter, she's also maturing into one of the most fun people to be around...to laugh with and hang with and ponder life's mysteries with.

A few weeks into this school year, I picked her up at the middle school and we were racing back to the elementary school to get the boys...the car was quiet and I caught sight of her in the mirror, with her messy bun and fuchsia and navy, tie-dyed scarf and she just looked so cute and fresh-faced, like an adorable preteen with all these possibilities ahead of her... She flipped on the radio and on came the opening bars of "Summer Breeze" by Seals & Crofts ("blowin' through the jasmine in my miiiind..." SUCH a guilty pleasure!!)...and usually Ellie would flip to some crap Top 40 station with Taio Cruz or Bruno Mars busting out my speakers...but that day I hear her say under her breath, "oh cool..." as she turned up the volume. And without speaking or even looking at one another, we sang every word of that song ("feel the arms that reach out to hold me/in the evening when the day is throoooough-ooo..." ) at the top of our lungs for the entire ride -- in harmony, no less. I loved that...I loved that I was singing with my best girl...that she was awesome enough to know all the words to "Summer Breeze" and that I felt like it was 1988 and I was riding in my old Volvo with Allison and Casey and Murph and Danielle and The Donut on way to some fun Bergen Catholic football tailgate...being there with her felt that free...and that joyous. What a gift!

Now I know that "Summer Breeze" thing seems like a nothing story, but to me it was that moment that Ellie became this totally cool, fun, silly friend on top of being my beloved firstborn. I texted TJ: "Ellie just sang every single word of Summer Breeze along with the car radio..." And she wrote back: "Ellie totally kicks a**!" So true.

Ellie reaps all benefits and suffers every drawback of being my oldest...so much more is expected of her...she has to work two times as hard in the house as either of the boys ever will...she is the first to be taken to task...and, no matter who is at fault, Ellie is the first one I will look to to end the madness when there is some screaming/chasing/yelling/tussling the three are engaging in... And as such, she is often frustrated with me...with the unfairness of being the oldest...sick of feeling like so much is expected of her...tired of always being the one who has to give in...like her slip-ups are received in a completely different way than the same slip-up by one of her brothers might be... And as I am the fourth of five children, I cannot help but notice and call her out when she is acting like a bossy older sister....so, in many ways our relationship can be complicated.

But the bright side is that she is my other half...she and I laugh at the same things...and now we even share shoes and some clothes...she gets to stay up later and go to better shows and restaurants and overnights with me...we see movies together and we talk about clothes and makeup and friends and boys and secret hopes and dreams... And though we are actually different in so many ways, Ellie knows me like no one else does at this point...she knows who and what is important to me...she knows when I am hurt or holding back...she cares for me when I am sad or in pain...she cares about my extended family and friends, inquiring after the health and wellness and happiness of those I care for beyond this home... Sometimes she is the mom, giving pep talks and having "come to Jesus" moments with me...and in doing so, there have been many times that she has reminded me to never forget what I am worth. Of course, she calls me on everything -- when I am being unfair, or unnecessarily harsh or strict or angry or insecure or filling up with self-doubt....and she doesn't let me get away with any of it... Still, when it comes down to it, Ellie wants my happiness above all else. Ellie is my very best friend.

Now she is turning 12. I know that we are heading into the years in which she will naturally separate herself from me, keep secrets, share her deepest thoughts and girl talk with her very own versions of Allison and Casey and Murph and Danielle and The Donut...and I know that's normal and that I should let her have that... I should let her experience some of her life's moments with privacy and distance from my eyes and ears. I am ok with that.

But I have wishes for Ellie too...that she stays the loving, giving, empathetic, openhearted, trustworthy, loyal and unapologetically straightforward girl she genuinely is. That she champions her own victories and accepts failures graciously....and that she always knows exactly what she is worth.

Mostly I hope she understands and embraces what I think most adult children struggle with their entire lives -- that her mother and father will always love her no matter what choices she makes and path she follows and stumbling blocks she encounters going forward. I hope she knows that as her mother, as her very best friend, her happiness is my most ardent desire and hope and dream, above all else.

Wishing a very Happy New Year to all of you, my loves, my friends... I have a feeling that 2012 is our year, the best one yet...and in the blink of an eye we will be back here, reflecting on our blessings and good fortune, and wishing Ellie a Happy Birthday once again.

xoxo

Photos:

1. Me, channeling The Boy...watching 2011 fly by...

2. - 8. Ellie during various seasons, at various ages, with various loved ones and on her own... 2000 to the present....

You'll Be My Breath Should I Grow Old...

"Actually, I value every second we're together, from the moment I squeeze his orange juice in the morning till I tuck him in at night. He's not just my boss, he's my best friend too."

Waylon Smithers, The Simpsons, Spring 1991

Most of you know that I am the mother of three...and I think most people would agree that there is no way to explain what it is like to be a mother...not to take anything away from Dads...my Dad, my kids' Dad, my friends who are Dads...they are all truly loving and wonderful Dads... But being a Mom is different because your children are always, without fail, the number one thing on your mind at all times... Men are a million times better than women (savor that, boys, I will likely never say it again!) at separating their thoughts into boxes, focusing only on what needs to be done or dealt with at that moment...and as a mother, that is an impossibility...the lives you are responsible for never exit your brain. Even so, sometimes we just go through the motions...follow the pattern of each day and week and month without thinking about it...and we only snap to attention when something falls out of line or diverts from course.

Some of you know that I am actually the "mother" of four.

No, no...there's no secret baby in my womb or in my imagination or hidden in my attic...this baby is real and was my very first baby...he is my 15 year old pug, Smithers...

Smithers became ours in the spring of 1997 after his breeder decided that though he was genetically perfect, he was too untrainable (even for a pug) to show. He lived with us in a six floor walk up on Morton Street in The Village...and he was the reason our neighbors got to know us...he was happy and spunky and he marked every damn thing in the apartment, on the street, in the park, at my parents house, in the yard...seriously, anywhere he went he desecrated some rug or piece of furniture...but he was so damn cute and we loved him regardless. I remember one time he was sick and I bolted out of the office before a big meeting to get back to him...and he was miserable, on the couch, listless and laying in his own vomit...and I bawled my eyes out the entire cab ride to the Gramercy Park Animal Hospital...and the other patrons were so jarred by the sight of me they unanimously agreed to let Smithers go in ahead of their animals...I didn't even have to ask.

Years later we had Ellie...and the day she arrived home, in this almost un-Smithers-like dog-ness, he became a ferocious guard dog! He hovered around Ellie and me...he barked and snarled at any human being that approached us...he paced outside her bedroom door and when I nursed her he sat at my feet. My sister's two dogs arrived one afternoon as we sat with Ellie on the couch and as they approached, Smithers stretched himself across my stomach and fully got in the bigger dogs' faces like: "keep away from my girls!"

Over the years we had more children...and Smithers accepted his increasingly less dominant position in the household. In recent years he prefers to hang out alone, cuddled up in a ball on his bed in the kitchen while I spend the day writing... We lived in harmony, all of us...he became blinder and deafer and more arthritic as each month passed...and frankly, I committed a cardinal sin of mothering in that he dropped from my thoughts often... My human kids were my priority...our happiness was foremost. Smithers was quietly living...and my role had turned from mother to healthcare aide...feeding and changing and bathing and keeping him alive. Not so much snuggling or playing...sometimes I even tripped over him and I'd get annoyed.

Then last week it all came down on me like a car crash in my heart, and I was certain that I was going to lose him forever...

There was this noise coming from him that made him sound slightly less healthy and spry than a 200 year old man with emphysema. And being a pug, he has that squashed face, so weird breathing noises and hacking were kind of the norm, frankly. But I sat here in my kitchen with some friends last Wednesday night and this sound was new and so awful it scared me, shook us all...when Will heard it he looked to me with panic in his eyes and said: "Mommy help him!" The next day we were at the vet. And though I had prepared myself to hear the doctor prep me for bad news, hearing her say that Smithers needed a chest x-ray because this awful sound could be the result of cancerous tumors in his lungs...and being that he is 15 years old, we will need to consider the options should that prove to be the case...

I knew what she meant...we were going to have to put him down. And she just kept handing me tissues and I tried to apologize but I couldn't speak through my tears. Her aide carried Smithers away and I signed off on all the tests and I agreed to the the estimate...

I called Rob from the car and he was panicked that he wouldn't make it home to see him again...and of course I promised I would never let the doctors do anything to him without each of us having the chance to say goodbye. And he said maybe we can medicate him through Christmas...so we could have him for one last Christmas morning... I totally got where Rob was coming from...but something inside me was saying that if the doctor thought he was too ill, that I owed it to him, as his mother, to ease his pain completely...

I called my sister, Trish, who has had five of her own dogs, three currently, and runs her own dog daycare and outdoor adventure business. And she was so great easing my nerves...she said: "the best gift you can give Smithers is NOT to do anything heroic here...he needs you to be utterly unselfish..." And that is it, you know...the animals give us everything...they make you happy, they keep you warm, they love you so much that they will lay across your belly and growl at all who approach...and they willingly take the backseat to everyone else in your life, no matter how much attention you throw at them or not. The one thing I could do for Smithers was to love him enough to let my feelings take the backseat, to lay across him and not let anything hurt him ever again. I decided that if the doctor came back with bad news, I would be strong enough to let him go. I wept non-stop for the rest of the day.

Later, the doctor called. Smithers had a partially collapsed lung. Likely the result of a bronchial issue developing, an attempt to cough, and a weakened lung taking the hit. While this is serious...and concerning...he could be medicated. There were additional tests pending to rule out tumors, but the normal ways in which they would present on a chest film were not showing. He could be medicated. He would live.

Huge sigh of relief. Praise Jesus or Santa Claus...or maybe my dog-loving Gramps who used to feed Smithers brownies when I wasn't looking was up there pulling for the little guy...regardless, I was not going to have to go through Christmas Day knowing that I missed the chance to show him once again how much he was loved. He's been home for a few days and we hug him every morning...I don't even care when his hair gets all over my sweater...and when he steps in front on me in his blind deafness and I almost kill us both as I trip, I am not mad...because he can't help it. And I am not just feeding and changing and bathing and keeping him alive...he never leaves my thoughts. I am his mother again.

So...this whole exercise was a lesson to me in many ways...a lesson about love, first and foremost...I love that dog...he has meant so much to me...I don't want to take that love for granted... His life was a gift to me...and I guess I realized that in all my loves and relationships that the gift of someone's love is the most blessed thing we can ever possibly possess...and besides your love, the next biggest gift you can give to someone is your unselfishness...your willingness to put their needs ahead of yours even if it hurts to do so. And I always thought I knew that...but I didn't really know it until I faced losing him...until I had to imagine Christmas without my first baby...

So the ending to this story is happy...Smithers is blindly nudging at the Christmas tree as I write...I haven't heard him make that horrible sound in at least 12 hours....and the kids and all those gifts that need giving are back to dominating my thoughts. You know, this is a beautiful time of year...no room for sappy, sad moments, as important the lessons those moments bring us may be... And so, I am just going to celebrate the season and toast the coming year and laugh with friends and hug my kids and cherish those I couldn't imagine living without. And to you I am sending all of my prayers and cheer and joy and blessings of love.

Happy Christmas!

Photos:

1 - 7: Smithers, various ages and stages of life, with the people who love him