scary-oke

KARAOKE PARTY

Scary-oke

Ralph sets up some tunes:

Scary-oke

About half the guests left after eating and just a few songs. But a few of us rocked it until midnight. Unfortunately, I was not the best hostess – I was on edge. I’d had an unpleasant experience earlier in the day that I couldn’t quite shake, I’d come home directly after time at the treatment center – and to top it all off I was worried we’d get a noise complaint.*

STILL I managed to sing a few nineties tunes. I stayed away from the Beyonce this time.

Nels, raising the roof:

Scary-oke

Megan and Emily rockin’ some Lorde:

Scary-oke

Jasmine, Dale, and Ralph bust out Bel Biv Devoe’s “Poison”:

Scary-oke

Nels regaled Megan all night. He also sported Jessah’s top hat/pilgrim hat, dressing himself as a “Fancy Ghost”:

Scary-oke

Ralph puts us through Queensryche’s “Silent Lucidity”:

Scary-oke

Probably my favorite performance – after all of Dalton’s (sorry, no pictures of Dalton performing for some reason), was Jasmine’s rendition of Marcy Playground’s “Sex and Candy”. Dale and I sat on the couch and did “Yeahs” Creed-style.

Scary-oke

Nels lends a hand to Julie’s “No Scrubs” by TLC:

Scary-oke

Nels busted out “Poker Face” – Dale, Ralph, and Julie performed pretty exertions dancing. And, apparently, eating huge slabs of cornbread.

Scary-oke

Scary-oke

Scary-oke

Scary-oke

Scary-oke

Scary-oke

And yeah, apparently Nels went through at least three “wardrobe changes” this evening.

***

* You may laugh but just a few months ago the cops knocked on my door at about 10:30 PM, citing a noise complaint from a neighbor. I was literally listening to a on-demand radio station I’d curated from a Sade song. Sade! When I opened the door to the police officer, “Holding Back The Years” was softly playing on like, volume five.

“Look what I can do!”

A little photo-blogginz:

The dog, who is rolling around in ecstacy as I furminate his fluffy ass. Pictured: approximately the same amount of hair as is in my backseat after one car ride. I jest, or do I??!?!

The De-Furring Process

The De-Furring Process

The De-Furring Process

The De-Furring Process

The De-Furring Process

Mable, being awesome & chillaxin’ in her favorite chair. She likes it best when I clean the chair, so she can immediately furball it up. If you’re sensing a pet-hair theme now that the warmer weather has hit, BINGO.
Shaking Head LIKE A BOSS

Party time! A gift (hours of sewing but I didn’t take a photo, oh well!), & a three-layer chocolate cake with cheesecake filling and cream cheese frosting:
Gift, Cake

Cake With Fresh Flowers

& the pièce de résistance, our uteriñata! The first-ever piñata I’ve made, as far as I know… it might have been Ralph’s first too. Ribbon-pull method, as nope, there won’t be any beating of a uterus up in this household.
Uteriñata

Uteriñata

At the party, our children – being beautiful, being themselves.
Our Son

Phee

“I’m gonna party, see how intoxicated I can get and how many rules I can flaunt”

Happy birthday, my little guy.

Happy Birthday!

Birthday Guy

Nels, Cake

Nels, Candles

(Thank you Eric and Britta for your photos!)

This gathering was funded in large part by a blog donation from Ylva, all the way over in Sweden. UM, how wonderful was this? We were so grateful.

Nels, Presents

The morning after: the telltale karaoke lineup:

Karaoke List, The Morning After

Karaoke worked up starting about nine PM. We had three reluctant participants who got way less reluctant pretty quick! It was in particular awesome to see my sister sing; she has many years as professional under her belt – opera, flamenco, and jazz to name a few. P.S. I am a hero. I broke the “overreaching” ice by debuting my set with some Beysus. & I continued it with some Queen.

I didn’t take as many pictures as I would have liked. I had my hands full with the work of a party, and the work of just being Me.

We had a great time, and we have wonderful friends and family. Truly an enjoyable gathering.

***

I gave birth to my son nine years ago today. Every year I post his birth story on this date. Several families have told me the story has influenced their birth choices; several women that it was the (beginning) inspiration for their home birth! I am humbled – and, as always, grateful.

Nels David Hogaboom
a birth story

Born at home to mom Kelly, dad Ralph, and sister Sophia [/Phoenix]
1:20 AM Wednesday April 7, 2004
8 pounds 7 ounces
21 inches long

April 6th, 9 AM – is it or isn’t it?

A couple hours after I wake up on Tuesday I’m having mild contractions that are only a tiny bit more intense than the Braxton Hicks contractions I’d had throughout the last half of my pregnancy. These contractions are only slightly painful and certainly not too intense. Nevertheless, they are somewhat distracting and never truly subside, coming anywhere from 10 to 20 minutes apart. Ralph senses things are going to go into motion and comes home at noon, starting his two weeks off of work. He calls my mom at about 3 PM and tells her to head up to see us (she leaves about 5 PM). At this point I am hopeful of labor but also feeling somewhat silly at the thought I might be treating everyone to a false alarm. My mom arrives at about 9 PM time and she and Ralph start writing down my contractions, calling midwives, and cleaning the house up a bit.

April 6th, 10 PM – the real thing

My mom and I are watching a movie together and my contractions are still coming about 10 minutes apart. I still claim I am unsure if labor is going someplace. But everyone is noticing I pause the movie during each contraction so I can concentrate on getting though it. I’m undecided if I should walk around to “get things moving” or lie down and rest in between contractions. I’m trying not to be too fearful of another long labor like I had with my first child. Suddenly at about 10:30 PM I hop up from the bed and turn off the movie, since contractions have sped up to about 4 minutes apart. Naturally my mom and Ralph are very excited and go about making phone calls and preparations while I pace the floor and cope with each contraction. It is going quite well but I keep telling myself these are the “easy” contractions and I try not to worry about what’s to come.

Around 10:30 my midwives and my doula start arriving and I am focusing inward in the classic “Laborland” manner. I notice peripherally how efficient and friendly everyone is, setting up the bed, laying out blankets and birth supplies and getting snacks. Everyone is wonderful to me and provides me with water and encouragement between contractions, respectful silence and privacy during. I feel very protected and honored and so it is easy not to be fearful. My doula Elizabeth arrives and strokes my back and speaks softly to me. She puts me nearly to sleep in between contractions. I am feeling so grateful for the love and encouragement I am getting. I know I am coping very well and in fact since I am doing so well I don’t think I am very far along.

April 7th, Midnight – silliest labor quote

Things are intense but I don’t want a check to see how far I’ve dilated. I am somewhat afraid to discover all the work I am doing hasn’t gotten me anywhere. Laura (one of the midwives) suggests I get into the tub. I’d always thought of the tub as what you use as a last resort toward the end of labor so I tell her I can wait. After a few more contractions I decide to get in, hoping for some pain relief. I spend about 40 minutes in the tub with contractions edging up their intensity. Everyone is around me encouraging me and vocalizing though my contractions. Elizabeth holds my hands and breathes with me through the contractions, then puts a cold cloth on my head and neck in between. Everyone helps keep me calm and focused, as does the knowledge I have to take each contraction one at a time. Close to 1 AM I feel the urge to have Ralph hold and kiss me while I rest, and help talk me through contractions (he’s repeating something I read from Birthing From Within: “Labor is hard work, it hurts, and you can do it”). I don’t realize at the time but I am going through transition. After a few contractions I start to feel a little of that, well — grunting urge. I know it is perfectly okay to grunt and push a little to help with the pain and I instinctively do so. The midwives clue into what I am doing and are back in the room. Laura says, “Gee Kelly, it sounds like you’re pushing” and I reply (idiotically) “I’m not really pushing, it just feels good to bear down a little bit”. These contractions are pretty rough but everyone is helping me so much it is still very manageable.

April 7th, 1:10 AM – OUCH, OUCH, OUCH!

Kathy convinces me to let her check me and informs me not only am I completely dilated, but that the baby’s head has descended quite a bit. I am completely amazed at this (despite knowing I am feeling the urge to push) and even accuse everyone of just saying that to make me feel better! (I feel a little silly about this later). During each contraction I am feeling the pain in my hips, all the way to the bone, which my midwives tell me is a sign the baby is moving. Kathy tells me later I comment that it is like a crowbar prying my pelvis apart. Despite the pain I am coping well and in between the contractions I am still calm. I comment that I am not feeling any pressure in my bottom yet and I think to myself this means I have a ways to go. Oops, I speak too soon — with the next contraction I feel the baby AT THE DOOR, so to speak. This takes me by surprise and my labor sounds change from low and powerful to very alarmed and – well – a little screechy. Everyone is talking to me and trying to help me calm down and focus. I am amazed at the pain and pressure and overcome with an almost frantic need to push. I am pushing, pushing, pushing, before I can tune into my midwives telling me to ease off. I do the best I can and manage to ease off a bit and direct my energies more constructively. Despite the pain I am overjoyed to know I am so close and my baby will be here any minute. “I know I will feel so good when I see my baby”, I tell myself and this helps me. Kathy tells me to reach down and feel the head and after an initial hesitation I do, surprised again at how soft and smooth it is. I can feel each part of his head I deliver. It hurts! But I know I am close. The head is out and then I am surprised by the fullness and difficulty of the shoulders, which I do not remember from my first birth.

April 7th, 1:20 AM – Nels is born

With one final push I feel my baby being delivered and I am surprised it is already over. I have been kneeling in the tub and so immediately turn around and Ralph tells me later I am saying, “Give me my baby! I want to hold my baby!” to the midwives who are doing their thing. I have a vision of my baby’s long, smooth body floating in the water, the room lit by candlelight in a soft glow. Within seconds he is in my arms and I am crying and Ralph is crying and the whole room is full of a collective soft and surprised murmur. I am holding my child to my chest and saying, “I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it” over and over, feeling so filled with surprise and happiness. The child is perfect and so soft and I feel wonderful. I realize I have done it, I have given birth to a healthy baby in my own home, with my own power.

April 7th, early morning – getting to know you

I stay in the water crying and holding my baby for several minutes before anyone thinks to discover the baby’s sex. I hold my newborn away from my chest and in between squirming legs and the umbilical cord I see we have a boy! Of course, this is perfect. Everything feels perfect! After a few more minutes I am ready to get out of the water and get cleaned up, but I know we have to wait for the delivery of the placenta. I feel like this takes forever but it probably is only a fifteen minute wait. Another surprising feeling of fullness and then the placenta is delivered. Kathy has to pull the cord a bit and gently massage my tummy to get the whole thing in one piece. My mom is on the phone with my dad and has to pass the phone around so she can cut the cord. I am ready to get out and dry off and nurse my second child.

I am helped out of the tub and into some dry clothes. I am so happy to have so much loving help. I prop myself up on the bed and hold my son to my breast. He latches almost immediately like a pro. I keep asking my husband, “Is this really happening?” because it has gone like a dream and I am so happy. After some time of nursing the midwife eventually takes my son to the foot of the bed to weigh him and check his limbs and reflexes. Elizabeth brings me food — cheese, bread, apples and oranges. My pulse is checked and found to be high (100) so I am encouraged to drink a huge glass of water (this happened with my first child, too). My afterpains are intense, more so than with my daughter’s birth, but I know this to be normal. I breathe through them. My daughter Sophie wakes up and is brought into the room, looking cranky and confused. I kiss her and introduce her to her brother (she is unimpressed) and Ralph takes her back to the bedroom to settle her back to sleep. Kathy checks my bottom out and finds only two tiny tears, no need for sutures. The energy of the house is settling, people are packing things, Elizabeth says goodbye. Laura leaves too and I take a shower with Kathy’s help. She stays long enough to give postpartum instructions and asks me to page her when I can pee. I am a little anxious about this myself, for vague fear of a catheter. Kathy leaves about 3:20 and as her car is pulling out I am able to pee, feeling now finally that everything is alright.

My husband is looking dead tired. I am wired and unable to sleep. We send my mom off to bed. I hold my son who is still awake! He is drowsy though and wants to snuggle. At about 4:30 AM I finally fall asleep on the bed, Ralph on the couch, holding his son. We are awakened just before 7 AM to the joyful sounds of our firstborn running through the house talking excitedly to Grandma. Grandma looks like she really needs a cup of coffee.

***

Nels one year ago:

The Candy Cigarettes Are Just Killing Me

you know our kids are huge now but still curl up on our laps, at home & in public

Phoenix = "Rockstar Pirate Witch"

There is something indefatigable about an intimate family life, something most beautiful when things are darkest, or most absurd. It’s like, the cynic in me, the girl-then-woman raised in a “militant agnostic” home (my father, anyway), some of the reasons I’ve written here for years is an attempt to communicate what it’s like to live my experience. The more I’ve written, the easier it flows, and the happier I feel. I mean often I don’t even think how valuable or interesting this might be to others, I’m just compelled to try to tell you about it if you want to read. I think there’s a lot to gain in relating to one another.

But yeah, there are these great moments in a family that are kind of … terrible moments. Like yesterday while we drove out to a birthday party, with three kids packed in the back of the car, one kid holding a cake and another a cat in a carrier (for a “pet show” of sorts), and suddenly the cat starts puking. Like you can really hear the chunkage, back there. And then there’s this sudden silence from three previously-rowdy kids and my daughter silently rolls down the window and somberly says, “You in the front: you’re lucky.” I mean I felt terrible for my kitty – who ceased vomiting upon arrival, only hours later to start up again as soon as we got back in the car – but it was one of those deliciously ridiculous FAILmoments that is best experienced with those you love, love, love.

Cake and birthday wishes. An honor to share them with others:

Birthday Cake

“Pet contest”, Harris was given special consideration for his sadness. Those are my two kids at left in the eared-hats.

Harris Really Wasn't Feeling Well

Life has been lovely the last couple days. Today I’m having another painful series of episodes with my kidneys. That is never encouraging. I have accepted my illness in full (except for one nagging caveat, see below), and I am grateful for these repeated bouts of pain as they have taught me a great deal about acceptance. These experiences have also taught me a great deal about unconditional love, to wit: I receive it from many of my friends, and all of those in my close family.

Having this ailment has taught me a lot about humility.

I know it seems like I wouldn’t have anything good to say about a supposedly zero-sum illness, but I do. Still, sometimes the remnants of denial rear their head. I keep thinking, Why me? (not out of self-pity, just a genuine bit of confusion), or thinking, any minute I’ll be “cured” and this won’t be happening any more. Still, these are only blips on my radar, persistant as they are. To the extent I am serene and genuinely grateful through such a puzzling experience, I can put that at the feet of first my alcoholism and then my resultant experience in Recovery.

I know I’m going to learn more about why I’m sick in this way – if not the nuts and bolts or a scientific explanation – and one day I’ll be able to tell you, Why Me.

***

By the way. In honor of Father’s day I’m re-linking a couple posts about my father’s influence on my life (and my thoughts on his death), recent writings if you didn’t see them the first time around. If you have seen them, apologies for redundancy. I didn’t need to write another piece, so soon, and I didn’t make time to write one about Ralph or any other fathers in my life.

the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself

#cakemeh

I gave birth to my son eight years ago today. Over the last seven years I have posted his birth story on this date. Oddly enough, some people enjoy (re-)reading it. If it is your first time reading here, welcome. But feel free to skip over and check out pictures from today’s birthday party. And some thoughts I’ve had recently. Yeah, it’s a long post. I own it.

Nels David Hogaboom
a birth story

Born at home to mom Kelly, dad Ralph, and sister Sophia [/Phoenix]
1:20 AM Wednesday April 7, 2004
8 pounds 7 ounces
21 inches long

April 6th, 9 AM – is it or isn’t it?

A couple hours after I wake up on Tuesday I’m having mild contractions that are only a tiny bit more intense than the Braxton Hicks contractions I’d had throughout the last half of my pregnancy. These contractions are only slightly painful and certainly not too intense. Nevertheless, they are somewhat distracting and never truly subside, coming anywhere from 10 to 20 minutes apart. Ralph senses things are going to go into motion and comes home at noon, starting his two weeks off of work. He calls my mom at about 3 PM and tells her to head up to see us (she leaves about 5 PM). At this point I am hopeful of labor but also feeling somewhat silly at the thought I might be treating everyone to a false alarm. My mom arrives at about 9 PM time and she and Ralph start writing down my contractions, calling midwives, and cleaning the house up a bit.

April 6th, 10 PM – the real thing

My mom and I are watching a movie together and my contractions are still coming about 10 minutes apart. I still claim I am unsure if labor is going someplace. But everyone is noticing I pause the movie during each contraction so I can concentrate on getting though it. I’m undecided if I should walk around to “get things moving” or lie down and rest in between contractions. I’m trying not to be too fearful of another long labor like I had with my first child. Suddenly at about 10:30 PM I hop up from the bed and turn off the movie, since contractions have sped up to about 4 minutes apart. Naturally my mom and Ralph are very excited and go about making phone calls and preparations while I pace the floor and cope with each contraction. It is going quite well but I keep telling myself these are the “easy” contractions and I try not to worry about what’s to come.

Around 10:30 my midwives and my doula start arriving and I am focusing inward in the classic “Laborland” manner. I notice peripherally how efficient and friendly everyone is, setting up the bed, laying out blankets and birth supplies and getting snacks. Everyone is wonderful to me and provides me with water and encouragement between contractions, respectful silence and privacy during. I feel very protected and honored and so it is easy not to be fearful. My doula Elizabeth arrives and strokes my back and speaks softly to me. She puts me nearly to sleep in between contractions. I am feeling so grateful for the love and encouragement I am getting. I know I am coping very well and in fact since I am doing so well I don’t think I am very far along.

April 7th, Midnight – silliest labor quote

Things are intense but I don’t want a check to see how far I’ve dilated. I am somewhat afraid to discover all the work I am doing hasn’t gotten me anywhere. Laura (one of the midwives) suggests I get into the tub. I’d always thought of the tub as what you use as a last resort toward the end of labor so I tell her I can wait. After a few more contractions I decide to get in, hoping for some pain relief. I spend about 40 minutes in the tub with contractions edging up their intensity. Everyone is around me encouraging me and vocalizing though my contractions. Elizabeth holds my hands and breathes with me through the contractions, then puts a cold cloth on my head and neck in between. Everyone helps keep me calm and focused, as does the knowledge I have to take each contraction one at a time. Close to 1 AM I feel the urge to have Ralph hold and kiss me while I rest, and help talk me through contractions (he’s repeating something I read from Birthing From Within: “Labor is hard work, it hurts, and you can do it”). I don’t realize at the time but I am going through transition. After a few contractions I start to feel a little of that, well — grunting urge. I know it is perfectly okay to grunt and push a little to help with the pain and I instinctively do so. The midwives clue into what I am doing and are back in the room. Laura says, “Gee Kelly, it sounds like you’re pushing” and I reply (idiotically) “I’m not really pushing, it just feels good to bear down a little bit”. These contractions are pretty rough but everyone is helping me so much it is still very manageable.

April 7th, 1:10 AM – OUCH, OUCH, OUCH!

Kathy convinces me to let her check me and informs me not only am I completely dilated, but that the baby’s head has descended quite a bit. I am completely amazed at this (despite knowing I am feeling the urge to push) and even accuse everyone of just saying that to make me feel better! (I feel a little silly about this later). During each contraction I am feeling the pain in my hips, all the way to the bone, which my midwives tell me is a sign the baby is moving. Kathy tells me later I comment that it is like a crowbar prying my pelvis apart. Despite the pain I am coping well and in between the contractions I am still calm. I comment that I am not feeling any pressure in my bottom yet and I think to myself this means I have a ways to go. Oops, I speak too soon — with the next contraction I feel the baby AT THE DOOR, so to speak. This takes me by surprise and my labor sounds change from low and powerful to very alarmed and – well – a little screechy. Everyone is talking to me and trying to help me calm down and focus. I am amazed at the pain and pressure and overcome with an almost frantic need to push. I am pushing, pushing, pushing, before I can tune into my midwives telling me to ease off. I do the best I can and manage to ease off a bit and direct my energies more constructively. Despite the pain I am overjoyed to know I am so close and my baby will be here any minute. “I know I will feel so good when I see my baby”, I tell myself and this helps me. Kathy tells me to reach down and feel the head and after an initial hesitation I do, surprised again at how soft and smooth it is. I can feel each part of his head I deliver. It hurts! But I know I am close. The head is out and then I am surprised by the fullness and difficulty of the shoulders, which I do not remember from my first birth.

April 7th, 1:20 AM – Nels is born

With one final push I feel my baby being delivered and I am surprised it is already over. I have been kneeling in the tub and so immediately turn around and Ralph tells me later I am saying, “Give me my baby! I want to hold my baby!” to the midwives who are doing their thing. I have a vision of my baby’s long, smooth body floating in the water, the room lit by candlelight in a soft glow. Within seconds he is in my arms and I am crying and Ralph is crying and the whole room is full of a collective soft and surprised murmur. I am holding my child to my chest and saying, “I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it” over and over, feeling so filled with surprise and happiness. The child is perfect and so soft and I feel wonderful. I realize I have done it, I have given birth to a healthy baby in my own home, with my own power.

April 7th, early morning – getting to know you

I stay in the water crying and holding my baby for several minutes before anyone thinks to discover the baby’s sex. I hold my newborn away from my chest and in between squirming legs and the umbilical cord I see we have a boy! Of course, this is perfect. Everything feels perfect! After a few more minutes I am ready to get out of the water and get cleaned up, but I know we have to wait for the delivery of the placenta. I feel like this takes forever but it probably is only a fifteen minute wait. Another surprising feeling of fullness and then the placenta is delivered. Kathy has to pull the cord a bit and gently massage my tummy to get the whole thing in one piece. My mom is on the phone with my dad and has to pass the phone around so she can cut the cord. I am ready to get out and dry off and nurse my second child.

I am helped out of the tub and into some dry clothes. I am so happy to have so much loving help. I prop myself up on the bed and hold my son to my breast. He latches almost immediately like a pro. I keep asking my husband, “Is this really happening?” because it has gone like a dream and I am so happy. After some time of nursing the midwife eventually takes my son to the foot of the bed to weigh him and check his limbs and reflexes. Elizabeth brings me food — cheese, bread, apples and oranges. My pulse is checked and found to be high (100) so I am encouraged to drink a huge glass of water (this happened with my first child, too). My afterpains are intense, more so than with my daughter’s birth, but I know this to be normal. I breathe through them. My daughter Sophie wakes up and is brought into the room, looking cranky and confused. I kiss her and introduce her to her brother (she is unimpressed) and Ralph takes her back to the bedroom to settle her back to sleep. Kathy checks my bottom out and finds only two tiny tears, no need for sutures. The energy of the house is settling, people are packing things, Elizabeth says goodbye. Laura leaves too and I take a shower with Kathy’s help. She stays long enough to give postpartum instructions and asks me to page her when I can pee. I am a little anxious about this myself, for vague fear of a catheter. Kathy leaves about 3:20 and as her car is pulling out I am able to pee, feeling now finally that everything is alright.

My husband is looking dead tired. I am wired and unable to sleep. We send my mom off to bed. I hold my son who is still awake! He is drowsy though and wants to snuggle. At about 4:30 AM I finally fall asleep on the bed, Ralph on the couch, holding his son. We are awakened just before 7 AM to the joyful sounds of our firstborn running through the house talking excitedly to Grandma. Grandma looks like she really needs a cup of coffee.

***

Today’s birthday gathering, a few pictures:

Veggie Tray

We had a great deal of food: ten pounds pot roast, fifteen pounds mashed potatoes, popcorn with butter, a fruit salad, a veggie tray, homemade cake, ice cream, juice, tea, and coffee. My mom’s veggies were so pretty, but I forgot to take a picture of the rest.

"Who Brought This?"

Nels was thrilled with every present he received. Here, he’s asking who gave him this one.

Phoenix

Phoenix, parched. So is my lemon-tree (at far right). Likely dead.

Jason Examines Our Backyard Terrain

Jason examines back yard shenanigans.

Sister & Brother

Sister. Believe it or not she was not annoyed with him in this interaction. But her expression is awesome. Who is that?

Catnip Mouse Piñata

My brother makes epic piñatas. This one was a catnip mouse, as we had a kitty-themed party. The kids had a great time killing it. I think it took about three rounds a person.

Piñata Time

Whacking time!

The Candy Cigarettes Are Just Killing Me

The candy cigarettes. I was dying.

Almost Over

Done! (Almost). Very tired.

***

Today I was up at 5 AM as I’d been asked to give a talk to a group about my life as an alcoholic in Recovery. Telling my life story to a group of many friends and many strangers, quite a task. Afterwards I came home, made a few preparations, and then slept a while. I rose and finished some of the things I needed to do for the gathering.

I want to talk briefly about my gratitude for the many people in my life. I have had so much help in all my endeavors. I have had this help all my life, although I didn’t always perceive it. For some time I lived in awareness of the things I didn’t have, the dissatisfactions, the imperfections, the discontentedness. When others helped, I felt beholden and I tried to pay them back. Quid pro quo. This was exhausting, draining, and curiously devoid of gratitude. Servile and yet self-centered.

I want to talk a little about how much I’ve been helped so you can understand the wonderful people in my life. Just today, just today’s example, I want to talk about all those who helped me.

This morning my husband got me coffee and drove me to my talk. At the talk my friends greeted me and hugged me and said wonderful things to me. After I spoke, more kind words, more hugs – from friends and those who I hadn’t known previous. As I left, a friend handed me a fresh strawberry breakfast and said I’d want it about nine o’clock. (She was right!)

When I got home, my husband helped me with party preparations and took care of many things while I rested. Both my children came upstairs and gave me hugs. Touchingly, Nels dressed himself, washed his face, brushed his teeth, and got to the business of the day while I slept, and while his father was out on an errand. This was very sweet as Nels has been, off and on, frightened to be alone rooms of the house at times. He told me he took care of himself this morning to conquer his fear and to make me proud of him.

For the party, many friends helped. They all helped. An hour before the party a girlfriend texted and asked if she could assist and I said Yes; she helped me purchase supplies, wrap presents, and get gift bags ready. Another friend, at my request, brought the (delicious!) mashed potatoes and helped me serve. Other friends brought pop to the party.

My mother helped a lot today. She helps us most days, but today quite a bit. We used many of her supplies last-minute to get ready for the gathering. Besides the gifts she and my friends brought my son (which I’m not even listing, here – but which were all lovely and thoughtful), she also made two dishes, full of fresh fruits and vegetables.

My daughter helped. She helped get ready for the party and she helped me clean up during the party. My son mostly enjoyed himself, but he also helped take care of the youngest child at the party. I thought this was very tender.

My brother made the piñata. It is pretty excellent and he bought and paid for and made the whole thing. It gave the children a great deal of joy, and the grownups too (we broke a stick on it and then went to work with rebar).

Today many texted, emailed, or in other ways told me to relate Happy Birthday to my son. Today I felt a lot of gratitude for the friends and family in my life. They make my life deeply worthwhile.

And today many of my friends made my son feel very special. He will likely remember the day the rest of his life.

Nels today:

E. Looks On

Nels one year ago:

Happy Birthday!

 

Nels, Satisfied

little by little

Burger ATTACK!

I’m calling the color in our dining area, a lovely Marigold-something, TANGERINE DICK, because it is taking not two, not four, but (at least, as of this writing) five coats to cover the expansive walls. Reflecting on it now, I believe we were given bad advice by the paint specialists and while they’ve discounted and/or given us lots of extra paint for our problems, the amount of extra time this error has caused is a bit irksome. Today I don’t get too frustrated over things and so far the move is going really well. Every day I suit up and show up, good habits I’ve learned over the last little while.

We’ ve had a little bit of help each day for the last four days, from friends. The help has been wonderful for practical reasons, but it also feels lovely to spend some one-on-one time and allow them to help us. I’m not feeling bad about accepting help at all. It’s pretty good stuff.

In a few hours Ralph will be up and grabbing a truck to move most the rest of our belongings. It’s a tremendous amount of work and because of painting setbacks I’ll likely be painting more than moving. I’m also hoping to cook and sleep in our new place tomorrow. Heck, we’re pretty excited.

Today we took the kids and my girl Heather, our painting-helpmate, out to the Blue Beacon in Aberdeen (pictured). I was pretty amused as the last time I was there it was with Ralph, and we were seventeen. Today Nels ordered both a hot dog and some bacon. For some reason I find that very funny.

***

In other news, Friday the second we’re having both a housewarming get together and a birthday party for Phoenix (MY DAUGHTER IS TURNING TEN YEARS OLD PLEASE SEE BELOW PICTURE TO SEE HOW OLD SHE IS, IN MY MIND).

I made a very understated little invitation to this event. I am emailing it to friends tomorrow but – if you’re seeing it now, you are invited! Don’t make me Miss Manners the whole business because really, we want everyone to join us. It’s going to be a fun time. Promise.

Housewarming / Phee's 10th

 

the book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year’s Day

This was the first New Year’s Eve I remember in my life, where I didn’t count down like everyone else usually does. I’d planned on, after our dinner guests left, taking a friend and my family to a Buddhist meditation at midnight. Instead I was sitting with these folks in the Emergency Room, waiting to visit a friend who’d been trucked in after a collapse. My kids, husband, and my girl H. played some kind of Twister knock-off on a carpet a few feet away. Next time I looked at my watch it was thirty-four minutes past midnight.

The fireworks from the hospital’s hill were lovely. It was cold. Nels had about three girlfriends by the time we left the parking lot. A social child. Also, earlier, a grouchy child who’d disrupted our earlier dinner a bit.

My friend at the hospital seems out of the woods. I am very grateful. I gave him my number as he’s staying overnight, and told him to call if I could bring him anything at all.

***

We had a good day today; the kids and I accompanied another family to adopt a kitty for little E. It was pretty choice, getting to visit with and pet the kitties.

My Lovely Daughter

Phoenix was a very kind little girl at the shelter, taking stock of each kitty and remembering their names and tempraments. There was another Phoenix working there as a volunteer, a teen boy. He and my daughter got along great, although I think like many he didn’t, at first, think a younger child could conduct themselves with aplomb at a kitty shelter.

E. & Her Daddy, Talk Kitties

E. and her father discuss adoption plans.

Raider

Raider. A favorite of J.’s. He was a handsome kitty. But E. was intent on adopting a lady kitty.

I LOVE YOU NOEL AND I KNOW YOU FEEL THE SAME ABOUT ME

Here’s a kitty I like to call Noel, MY NEW BOYFRIEND. HE LOVED ME SO MUCH AND IMMEDIATELY CLIMBED IN MY ARMS right after I snapped this. He is the handsomest thing I have ever seen. Not convinced? Would you like a closeup?

NOEL IS MY NEW BOYFRIEND

I am going to get a tattoo of Noel and his likeness. His green-blue eyes are the inspiration of many sonnets. I’m sure he will be adopted out in no time and it just kills me.

Nels + Noel + Erin

E. + Nels + Noel. You can click through for like eighteen adorable pictures of them all looking at a “flashing light” they saw outside.

Nels + Noel

Nels reacts to something Noel said, probably something very suave and witty.

Erm... No Thanks, Panther

Panther may have trouble getting adopted.

Happy New Year. Anyone reading here with any regularity knows how grateful I am for my life. How blessed. I don’t mean “blessed” because so much good shit has happened to me or because God is super into me, I mean “blessed” because I’m very glad for the gifts I have. It is the gladness, the awareness, the awakenedness, when I have it, that is the gift.

Here’s Ralph taking a picture of me tonight just before tacos, because I wanted a new photo for Twitter. Thank you, husband, for taking a picture and making it of my ENORMOUS FACE.

New Years', Pre-Tacos

princess of darkness

So today I’m getting ready to go out to coffee with my sister and my mom and my son, and my daughter says, watching me from the morning bath she was using to warm up,

“Mom, am I too little to wear makeup?”

I reply, “You can wear it whenever you want. But please let me help you use it, so you don’t get it dirty or break it. I’ll buy you some if you promise to learn to use it respectfully.” (we’re talking about a kid who still comes in the house and strips down to her bra and panties, throwing things wherever she walks)

She asks, “Why do women wear makeup?”

“Well… some women think they aren’t beautiful enough as they are.”

“But why do you wear it? You’re beautiful.” (seriously!)

“I like it. It’s like art, like drawing.” (and it’s kind of a habit, but I don’t get to that, because she says:)

“Drawing on your face,” she says. “Like why don’t you draw a mustache or goatee then?”

I seriously love this kid so much.

Kids Decorating The Tree

So far in my thirty-four years, I haven’t been a holiday or Christmas hater. Believe me, I empathize with the many reasons people don’t enjoy the season. Bad memories, bad times, the stress many parents are under to provide for their children when they can’t make ends meet in the first place, the heartbreaks of families not reconciled, and maybe most oppressively the monolithic cultural edict that, firstly, EVERYONE celebrates Christmas and, secondly, EVERYONE has a goddamned happy one, or the terrorists have won!

I don’t know why I’ve consistently enjoyed Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years’, Valentine’s Day. So far. It could’ve gone a different way. First off I had a lot of resentment towards Christians and Christianity (which I left behind sometime in my early twenties), and certainly I have plenty of family drama I can trot out – the family drank and used more during the holidays, of course. But still. My memories are almost entirely positive; and I continue to have positive associations. Even with the wonkiness of the whole thing. My sister said today she wished no one would re-record any Christmas hits and I am likely to agree, because, c’mon, who needs another tarted-up version of “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas”, or even more nightmarish, non-sequiter, and anti-Christ, “Santa Baby”?

But still, tonight driving out in the cold to catch an engagement, the lights out and it’s cold and wet out, and maybe it’s just all those inane but kind of comforting traditions, and that every year I seem to catch people being breathtakingly lovely. I dunno. But it’s good times for this Hogaboom, at least.

In recent events:

Swim Meet!

Swimming, with the kids. And about one thousand teen boys in tiny bathing suits, for a swim meet. It was real fun to be the only thirtysomething lady walking out in a suit so daggy it’s see-thru in a few places. YOU’RE WELCOME

Fish

Walmart parking lot, after gratefully spending the last of a wee check Ralph got, on LED lights for the tree.

Out Late In Aberdeen, WA

Saturday night, getting too cold to smoke, but I manage it anyway.

"Stop The HATE"

Phoenix’s idea for an ornament: LGBT button, “Stop The HATE”.

And today on the porch from the postman: my friend Dave’s Christmas mixtape, the third yearly installation, always excellent including the CD art (which this year featured Macho Man Randy Savage, and how is it I immediately recognize this man when I grew up without television? Scary). Driving home tonight after dropping a friend off in Monte I hear, for the first time, the following chestnut.

up to lately

NEPO

The morning after the storm, such as we have, it’s raw and wet and tiny bits of detritus (and larger pieces of tree branches). Everything is wet, I mean soaked, and there’s a raw feel to the air.

I’d know the experience anywhere. I love it.

We kept warm and snuggly. I find a storm outside quite peaceful, especially given I’m inside, fed, safe, cared for by and loving up on dear family. I continue as much outdoor walking as is possible and practical, in between car errands and volunteer work the next town over.

Also:

Cake Of The Olden Gods

A cake involving sour cream and coconut cream and heavenly awesomeness. This was engineered from me in the hospital bed, and made by Ralph. He tried again the other night – but kept checking on the cake and it flattened. Don’t worry, we’ll keep trying for the original awesomeness.

Chilly Weather Party

We also recently had a small party with friends and lots of kids who ran around and yelled and played. It was good times. I made taco soup from scratch – no cans, home-roasted chiles, lots of TLC.

Friendly

Kiddos awaiting good eats in our favorite local restaurant. Nels in his new cap and his fishermans sweater, the latter knit by our friend Tammy from Jackson St. Books on 7th.

Some Kinda Houseplant

I desire to make new houseplants for friends. I know I need to do something with these little baby strands. I hate the idea of failing. Help?

& They Are SOOOO Good

a la taquería, for a change.

Mable Cannot Get Enuf Love

Mable. Cannot get enough love. (note silly tongue-extension)