The Ramblings of Jen

Our Little Butterflies

2012-01-27T21:57:00.000-06:00

Bookmark and Share, My Friends...Bookmark and Share

2012-01-25T16:09:00.000-06:00

One of the most kick-ass writers I know, Lisa Sniderman, just wrote an absolutely fabulous blog post on weight and eating issues. Yes, it happens to be on Erasing the Distance's blog...and yes, I happen to work for them. I fully cop to the potential conflict in interest. But honestly, if I had read this blog entry on any other blog on the web, I would immediately bookmark it and share it with every single person I know. And that's essentially what I'm doing right now by linking to to the post right here.

I could go on and on about why Lisa's writing post spoke to me so deeply, but what's the point when you can just check it out on your own? Do yourself a favor: READ IT. Then SHARE IT. And then...however way you can, in whatever capacity you can, LIVE IT.

For the sake of my daughters as well as myself, I certainly intend to try.

From the mouths of babes...rather odd babes...

2012-01-20T19:11:00.000-06:00

Here are a few bon mots from my kids that I've posted on Facebook recently. (Yeah, I know it's kinda lazy to re-post already-published stuff to my blog. I never claimed to be an overachiever.)

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Emma: "Can you put the song 'I'm Sexy And I Know It' on your ipod for me?"
Me: "What? You don't even know what the word 'sexy' means."
Emma: "Yes I do." [whispers in ear] "It's when two people get naked and kiss each other in private parts of town."
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Me: "Sophie? You okay in there?"
Sophie: "Yeah. I'm just standing here looking at the toilet."
Me: "Oh. Well maybe you could actually go potty, since that's what I asked you to do."
Sophie: "No, thank you. I'll just stand here and look for fish."
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Just showed Emma "We Are The World" on You Tube because she is studying it in school.
Emma: "Wow, how long ago did they do this?"
Me: "Hmmm...I wanna say sometime in the late '80s."
Emma: "What? That's right after baby Jesus was born!"
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Walking into our house from the car...
Sophie: "My tummy hurts."
Me: "Oh, I'm sorry to..."
Sophie: "BUT MY VAGINA DOESN'T HURT ANYMORE, MOMMY. I RUBBED IT AND IT FEELS BETTER NOW."
Neighbors on both sides of our apartment (And of course they are outside when this happens, why wouldn't they be? After all, it's a balmy 25 degrees outside!) freeze and gape as the word "vagina" echoes through the night. This is not artistic license, people...I am telling you, it echoed.
Me: "Well, I thank you for sharing, Sophie...and so does the rest of the neighborhood."
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Sophie: "My panda is dead because bad guys came and used a gun and shot him and he tried to duck but it didn't work and our Dad didn't fight the bad guys because he was at work. I'm not joking. That actually happened."
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Sophie just introduced me to her "pretend friend." Her name is No Name, and she likes to read books and kill pandas. That is an exact quote, folks. What is up with this kid and dead pandas?
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Emma: "I wish I had a new baby sister who was just a baby and NEVER grew up and then I'd never have to bother with her and she'd be so cute!"
Sophie: "Yes, that would be fun. Baby sister!"
Emma (whispering to me while pointing to Sophie behind her cupped hand): "I meant INSTEAD of her." Sigh. "She just doesn't get it."

Best Gift Ever

2012-01-01T13:29:00.000-06:00

2011 was a rough year for me.

Wow. Just typing that sentence feels self-indulgent. And, in a way, I believe that it is.

This past year was not filled with any debilitating disasters or losses for me. In fact, if anything, 2011 was a year of riches, particularly compared to what others endure every day. I still have my job, and acquired another one this year that I love equally. My children are healthy, happy, and thriving. My husband, in spite of all reason, seems to love me more than ever. I am surrounded by supportive family and wonderful friends. I want for nothing that I truly need. And therefore, any complaining on my part feels not only self-indulgent, but selfish and petty. I mean, if life were rated on a 1-10 scale, any objective observer would give mine a 9. I am a very lucky woman, and I am deeply grateful.

I just sometimes have trouble feeling it all.

Clinical depression is something I have struggled with my entire adult life. I was first diagnosed in college, and Depression and I have had a very up-and-down relationship ever since. Like any relationship, we have moments of bliss when everything seems to click. I let Depression alone, and she does the same for me. We do our own thing and are happy for it. We are both still aware of the other's presence, but that awareness only helps enhance our happiness because we both understand, more intimately than anyone else could, how hard we've fought to get to such an awesome place. In blissful times, we are each other's biggest supporters. We stand back and cheer each other on unobtrusively.

But there are darker times in the relationship when we clash. We drag each other down, tear each other apart, hold each other back. Those are the really rough patches, the valleys of despair when the only defense against the pain is to embrace numbness. The goal becomes simply to plow through, to try not to feel anything. But the numbness becomes heavy, like pounds of mud sitting on my shoulders, and it takes all my energy just to keep moving through the muck. I feel exhausted, weighed down, apathetic, detached. During those times, Depression and I are not on the same side. We want different things - I to rise up, and she to keep me down. And so, it becomes a battle. Once more into the breach, dear friends. We fight, and fight, and fight, and fight, and fight again.

2011 was a year of fighting.

Depression and I have been together a long time. Long enough for me to know that eventually, we will once again find a way to live together peacefully. It takes time, and patience, and a lot of work. Some days we almost get there; other days we are at each others' throats. However, after many years of denial, I've finally accepted that Depression isn't going anywhere. No matter how hard I try to push her away, she always comes back. We seem to need each other, her and I. For better or worse, we are a pair. Whether friend or enemy (and she has been both to me), she is always a part of my life. Recognizing that fact has been oddly liberating. While I don't particularly enjoy Depression's company, knowing that I can finally stop expending so much energy trying to get rid of her is freeing. Depression is here to stay. The only option is for us to learn to co-exist, and that is what I focus my energy on now. Finding and maintaining the balance between us is continuous work, but it is worthwhile work.

And so, in 2012, the work continues.

I don't talk about my relationship with Depression much because, as I referenced earlier, doing so often feels self-indulgent. I fear that people will judge me, will look at my admittedly wonderful life and think, "What in the hell do you have to feel depressed about?" And part of the reason I fear that is because, deep down, I share that opinion. It is ridiculous that I should feel so empty when my life is so full. It makes NO SENSE. But, unfortunately, depression is a senseless illness. I know that to be true. Yet I still struggle with the guilt of not being able to just shake off the damn self-pity and enjoy life. So if I - someone who understands depression more than your average Joe - can still feel that way, it seems reasonable that others would probably label me a whiny narcissist.

Yet, on the flip side, the same average Joe doesn't have the opportunity to understand depression if no one ever talks about it. Ay, there's the rub. (Oh, William. You understood depression well, didn't you my friend?)

There is still much to my relationship with Depression that I don't feel comfortable revealing...and perhaps I never will. Like any relationship, I believe that many of the more intimate details should remain private. However, I do think it important to try and strip away the fear of speaking of it at all. Giving voice can mean giving hope, and if my words help someone else, even in the smallest of ways, then the outcome outweighs the fear.

The one person in this world who understands the intricacies of my relationship with Depression better than any other is my husband. He knows how hard I am on myself, how much I struggle to feel my own beauty and worth, how much my depression manifests itself as self-loathing. He has seen the darkest parts of me, the parts that I hide from all others, and he is still my most steadfast friend and supporter. That alone is a priceless gift. And on my birthday a few days ago, he and my daughters gave me another gift - one of the most precious gifts I have ever received.

It was a simple hand mirror. (I have never owned a hand mirror. I'll let you guess why that might be.) But they decorated the back for me and attached a note to the mirror with ribbon.

I don't know if I will ever get to a place where I am able to fully accept myself as I am. One of the most harmful aspects of my relationship with Depression is how thoroughly she erodes my self-worth. But I believe that love IS beauty. So at this moment, as I hold my mirror in my hand and stare into the glass, I see the love of my family reflected back at me. And that love makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

My Core Rocks

2011-12-29T18:59:00.000-06:00

Emma just gave me this birthday poem. I haven't quite decoded it all, and I'm starting to worry a bit about her spelling, but still...it made me smile.

Mom,
Your so sweat [methinks she meant "sweet"]
Because you have so much needs!
Even though you have so much core,
You have a husben who is a little bit more.
Happy birthday Mom!
Hope you have a wonderful call!
Merre Christmas!

A Girl Can Dream

2011-12-27T22:33:00.000-06:00

Here is a photo of one of the girls' many awesome Christmas gifts. They are pretty excited about it, but I don't think their excitement even comes close to matching mine. It came about 30 years later than I wanted, but I finally got my dream dollhouse. I may even let Emma and Sophie play with it once in awhile. Maybe.

The Nutcracker, Dueling Diva Style

2011-12-18T08:00:00.003-06:00

Emma and Sophie present their version of The Nutcracker. Well, Emma tries...but Sophie keeps going rogue. "I've been performing here for seven years." Indeed you have, Emma Bloom. Indeed you have.

First Snow of Season

2011-12-17T16:22:00.000-06:00

There wasn't a lot to work with, but that didn't deter the girls one bit. 'Bout time, Snow!

FUN: A Photo Essay (and check out that gee-OR-geous TREE)

2011-12-16T12:25:00.000-06:00

Hank Kingsley and Message Decoding

2011-12-04T11:40:00.000-06:00

My mother-in-law - a.k.a. "Grandma Kitty" - is in town from Florida, and the girls are deeply entrenched in their happy places for as long as she is here. Yesterday, the clan trekked downtown to the German Chriskindle Market while I stayed behind to work. Missing the kids seeing Santa = sad. This picture = happy.

Side Note: After some analysis, I think Santa is just pointing his index finger at the camera, which always makes me think of Hank saying "Hey, now" on The Larry Sanders Show...even though I don't think he necessarily points when he says it. (Btw, if that was what you were going for Santa, cease and desist immediately: You, my jolly friend, are no Hank Kingsley.) But when I first saw the picture, I thought he was flashing the peace sign or something. Frankly, the fingers still perplex me. I suspect he may be sending some type of secret message, and I will not rest until I successfully decode it.

Back Off With Your HIGH UP Niceness

2011-11-28T16:24:00.000-06:00

Emma switched tables at school today, and she told me about her new seat-mates.

Em: "I like everyone except Lucy. She's too nice."

Me: "What do you mean by 'too nice'? I don't understand."

Em: "You know, like she's high nice."

Me: "I'm still not following you."

Em: "Like, she is never mean and she always uses her manners and she's just too nice."

Me: "Is she annoying you? Do you think she's being fake?"

Em: "No, that's not what I said. I said she's HIGH UP nice, like TOO nice. Like...she is so graceful and careful and she talks really sweet in this high voice and says things like, 'Oh, thank you Emma.' 'Did you have a nice Thanksgiving, Emma?' 'Do you want to be best friends forever, Emma?'"

Me: "I still don't get what you mean by 'high up nice.' Do you mean because her voice is high?"

Em: "NO! It's like a pyramid. You know, like there's Really Really Bad at the bottom? And then Really Bad above that, and then Bad, and then Nice, and then high up of Nice is Too Nice. Lucy is TOO Nice."

Me: "Um...okay. I'm sorry that her kindness is so upsetting to you. That must be really frustrating."

Em: "Yeah. Well, I don't act rudely to her or anything. I just smile and say, 'Thank you, Lucy.' But inside I know she is too nice for me and we will never be friends."

Four Years at Supersonic Speed

2011-11-24T07:00:00.000-06:00

Four years ago today, I was super pumped to give birth. Being knocked up with my second child, it wasn't as if I didn't know what was coming. I knew my way around a delivery room, and I also knew that a lot of the crap that goes down in there is not pretty. Still...I was like - BRING. IT. ON.

After months of nausea (to all you first-trimester-only "morning" sickness sufferers, I simply say: AMATEURS) and increasingly stressful attempts to control my gestational diabetes that grew from a restricted diet and some finger pricks to a daily regimen of six insulin shots and calls to my endocrinologist every morning, noon and night (literally), I was really really really really really ready to not be pregnant anymore.

So I waddled into that hospital as giddy as a kid on Christmas morning. And after twelve hours of labor, four failed epidural attempts, one sweet-ASS epidural success, and a mercifully small number of pushes, Miss Sophie Patrice Mathews entered the world.

I can't believe that was four years ago. Our baby is not a baby any longer, and my heart sings and breaks simultaneously at the very thought of it. I wish sometimes that I could scrunch her into a little baby ball, like human Play-Doh, and cradle her infant self in my arms just one more time. But mostly, I relish seeing her develop into this independent, feisty, sweet, clever, fantastic little girl...and I'm eager to continue watching her change and grow.

Happy birthday to our beautiful four-year-old! They haven't invented a word yet that adequately expresses how much you are loved, darling Sophie.

Another Plea

2011-11-16T10:31:00.000-06:00

Hello friends.

You may remember my post from last week about the Chase Community Giving contest that the wonderful non-profit at which I work, Erasing the Distance, is currently competing in. Well, here's an update: WE ARE SO CLOSE TO WINNING!

In order to win the $25,000 for our organization, we must gather enough votes to be in the Top 100 charities when the contest ends at exactly 11:59AM EST Nov. 22nd. (Chase ain't screwing around, people. They are nothing if not specific.) Currently, we are hovering right around the 100th spot. Sometimes we are higher, sometimes lower. Rankings change constantly as votes continue to come in. As you can imagine, this is a very nerve-wracking position in which to be. If we were, say, around 75th place or so, then maybe we could relax a little bit. Conversely, if we were around 130th, we might start resigning ourselves for the inevitable. But bouncing back and forth over the divider line that determines whether we receive $25,000 to help continue to shed light on mental health issues through theatre or whether we end up empty-handed is excruciating.

The support we have received has been tremendous. YOU, my lovely readers, have been tremendous. We've also received some exciting coverage about our contest participation on the web. Click on some of the links below to check it out:

FitPerez.com

OakPark.com

MakeItBetter.net

TribuneLocal.com

WantADumpsterBaby.com

GenwithaG.com

But our work is not done. We have to continue to spread the word. There are only a few days left in the contest, and I truly believe we can make this happen. But I need your help.

Please continue to encourage everyone you know to vote. Send them this blog post. Point them towards our website, which has all the information you need on exactly how to vote. Explain that we are not asking for money; only a couple minutes of time. Reach out to co-workers, colleagues, and acquaintances with specific requests: Can I distribute information at work? Would you blog about this? Can you post info on your Facebook page/send info in an e-newsletter/email your own contacts? Reach out beyond your closest circle of friends and loved ones. Include people you normally wouldn't think to ask for a favor. I have been pleasantly surprised by some of the people who have been my strongest supporters through this. Give all the people in your life a chance to surprise YOU.

I believe that most people want to be of help - to their neighbors, their friends, and their community - and they simply don't always know how to go about it. Helping Erasing the Distance win this contest is an easy, quick and cost-free way to support a charitable organization and positively impact so many lives. I have personally seen the amazing work Erasing the Distance has done over the last six years, and a $25,000 grant will go a very, very long way toward helping us continue to use the power of performance to disarm stigma, spark dialogue, educate, and promote healing surrounding issues of mental health.

Thank you so very much for your help everybody! Together, we can do this!

Fallen Leaves = FUN

2011-11-15T09:04:00.000-06:00

It's like a little mini-movie, if you look at them one right after the other. Don't be fooled by the last pic...there are actually a couple of kids in there!

(Almost) Middle-Aged Besties

2011-11-14T08:43:00.003-06:00

I have a best friend.

That sentence feels sort of silly to write at 37 years old. I mean, I'm not, like, in junior high or something, right dude? Well...screw that ageism crap. I am kinda middle-aged (yikes!), I have a best friend, and I still call people "Dude" occasionally. (Although not nearly as much as my best friend.) Take that, stereotypes!

So, my bestie has this awesome blog called GenwithaG.com. Check it out, if you haven't. It rocks. Today, she wrote a blog post that touched me greatly. It may not be obvious to everyone else, but to me, the post reads like a gesture of love to little ole me from one of the most amazing women I know. So I thought I'd share it with you (just click here), because today I'm feeling especially grateful for all the wonderful friends I have in my life, and they don't get any better than Genevieve. I feel so proud and lucky to be her friend, and I want everyone to know it.

The Chalkboard of Feelings

2011-11-13T08:08:00.000-06:00

I sent the girls to their own rooms for some much-needed alone time after an afternoon of seemingly endless arguing between the two. Emma didn't get a chance to grab her doll Molly beforehand, and I wouldn't let her go back out and get her. (In all honesty, mostly because I was feeling too pissy/petty/annoyed to answer anything other than "No" in the moment.)

A few minutes later, she told me to come read what she'd written to me on her chalkboard. "If something is underlined," Em explained, "that means I REALLY mean it." Here's what the chalkboard said:

I told her that she had expressed her feelings very clearly, and I was proud of her for putting her anger into words instead of screaming or throwing a fit. However, I admitted that when I heard she'd written something especially for me, I had hoped it might be something nice.

A few minutes later, she called me back in to read this:

Good gravy, do I love this girl.

Queen Merlia in da house

2011-11-10T15:56:00.001-06:00

Emma: "Mommy, this is Merlia. She is a queen."

Me: "Well hello, Merlia. It is an honor to meet you."

Emma: "Merlia is my friend, and I am her loyal subject."

Me: "Really? Well Merlia, could you please ask your loyal subject to clear her plate from lunch please?"

Emma leans down to hear Merlia's command.

Emma: "Merlia says that's RIDICULOUS! And by the way, it's Queen Merlia to you, commoner!"

Please...help a lady out, would ya?

2011-11-09T18:14:00.002-06:00

Hello, my lovely blog readers! Don't you all look gorgeous today? Okay, you guessed it...I'm buttering you up.

I'm gonna say right up front that I'm pushing an agenda with this post. I try to rarely do that on my blog, but this is just too important to me. I'm not asking for much, I promise. In fact, my little ole request requires no money and very little time from you. (I know, I sound like a used car commercial, but I swear - it's true!)

As many of you know, one of the fabulous arts organizations for which I work is Erasing the Distance. (Click the link to find out more about us. Go ahead...I know you want to.) Chase Community Giving has a program on Facebook where they give away $3 million dollars to 100 small charities...not charities that Chase chooses, but charities that we the people get to choose. (Wow, I gotta say...using the phrase "we the people" in a sentence is kind of cool. I might start doing it every day.) The winners are determined strictly by which organizations get the most votes. Erasing the Distance is in the running for one of these grants, and I ask you to please please please consider voting for us.

The contest ends Nov. 22nd, so time is of the essence. All you have to do is click the button below and vote for Erasing the Distance. (Make sure you "Like" Chase Community Giving first, or they won't let you vote.) Seriously...it's that easy.

Once you've voted, PLEASE spread the word to family and friends! This a nationwide contest with thousands of charities in the running, so every vote really counts.

I cannot emphasize enough how much a grant of this size would mean to our little organization. Your vote will positively impact so many lives. At the very least, it will impact mine...and from the bottom of my heart, I thank you.

Beware: imagination can maim your ponies and prostitute your mothers

2011-11-07T08:11:00.001-06:00

Emma was playing with her ponies when they got into a terrible accident involving a city bus. It sounded quite traumatic, at least judging from all the gruesome sound effects coming out of Emma's mouth. However, she quickly stitched them up, and now broken wing, leg and snout are all healing nicely.

(Sidebar: yes, that is a bra hanging out in the upper right corner of this photo. I can't stand wearing a bra and tend to fling mine off the moment I enter my home, letting it land where it may. I do not now, nor will I ever, apologize for this.)

Sophie drew a picture of me this morning. Considering she's only 3, I'm pretty impressed that she did this all by herself. (Well, except for her signature. She points, I write.) Pretty good likeness, don't you think? I particularly like the beard.

I am mildly disturbed that she inexplicably wrote "Ho" on a drawing of me, but then again - a mother that can't keep her bra on really shouldn't be surprised, I guess.

Emma on a Wednesday

2011-11-02T19:07:00.002-05:00

The other day, Emma caught me worrying over my to-do list and barraged me with questions about it. Today, she made one for herself. Here is Em's to-do list, exactly as she wrote it in her notebook:

Wendsday to do list!
1. Get ready for school
2. Read a book or watch T.V
3. Do my homework
4. Read more books/if I want
5. play on my ds./if I want
6. play with my ponys
7. Play dress up!
8. Sing!
9. Dance!
10. Fashoin show!
11. Make a to do list for thirsday
12. Take a shower
13. Get into pagamaes
14. pick out my clothes
15. Go to bed

She completed #s 1-5 and 11-15. She gave herself the grade of 91 D+, which is apparently a very good score because in to-do list grading you want to get as close to an F as possible. (I have no idea why, and my brain started to bleed when she explained it to me, so I am unable to replicate her reasoning here.)

Then she asked me what grade I got on MY to-do list today. I told her I had no idea, but that it really doesn't matter because tomorrow is another day.

"What do you mean?" Emma asked.

"Well," I sighed, "I just mean that I'll get another crack at it tomorrow. My to-do list never really ends. My whole life is basically one long to-do list."

"Really?!" Emma shrieked. "That is SO COOL!"

Sophie on a Wednesday

2011-11-02T16:14:00.000-05:00

Sophie: "I like it when Emma hits my arm when she is being naughty and throwing fits."
Me: "Really? Why would you like that?"
Soph: [shrug] "I love my sister."
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Soph: "When dinner is ready and Daddy comes over to visit our house, can I show him my boo-boo?"
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Soph: "Mommy, I'm hungry. Can I have square cheese?"
Soph: "Mommy, I'm bored. Can you put in a movie?"
Soph: "Mommy, I'm cold. Can I have a blanket?"
Me: "Here you go. Anything else you need? My blood? My soul?"
Soph: "Hmm. Your soul? What is that? Can I play with it?"
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Soph: "Mommy, I have some good news and some bad news. Which do you want first?"
Me: "How about the bad news?"
Soph: "Ok. Halloween is OVER!"
Me: "Yes, I know. That is sad. But what's the good news?"
Soph: [long, long pause] "Um...speaking of...can I have a toaster strudel?"

Happy Halloween!

2011-10-31T21:02:00.000-05:00

It takes a real man to carve a fairy

2011-10-19T19:30:00.000-05:00

My husband not only tolerates living in a houseful of women...he embraces it. Indeed, despite his legitimate right to claim some man-time among this pool of estrogen that he calls home, he almost always puts our needs above his own. Case in point? Chris loves to carve pumpkins, and this year he had glorious visions of creating something spooky and scary and fierce. But the girls had other plans. Instead of complaining, he got to work...and painstakingly carved the fairy Silvermist.

He's currently watching the first game of the World Series while us chicks marvel at his craftsmanship. (Remember, I said he almost always puts our needs above his own. When the Cardinals are in the World Series, all bets are off. And I say...enjoy, darling. You've earned it.)

He's pretty awesome. Methinks we will keep him.

Pop Dancing

2011-10-14T14:09:00.000-05:00

A new dancing video! Happy Friday, and enjoy.

One Viewing Note: the video fades out right about the time Emma starts hitting herself on the head, and then fades back in just before Chris and I begin ~~begging for~~ gently encouraging the grand finale. In between were an additional FIVE MINUTES of dancing that I left on the cutting room floor. Allow me to sum up what you missed: stomping, mugging, bizarre hand movements, beating of one's own body, giggling, desperate copying of one's older sister, and excessive posing.

Okay, you may commence viewing now.

A pumpkin ate my finger!

2011-10-13T09:49:00.000-05:00

This was the best I could manage with a sawed-off Qtip. If anyone knows where we can get inexpensive polish pens for design stuff like this, let me know. (Nail painting is one of my secret weapons - it keeps the girls occupied, happy and still for at least a half hour or so, and it's actually kinda fun to do.)

Happy Halloweeeeeeeeeen!