Month: August 2016

On any given day at any given place I can run into moms with more grown up kids than mine. Purely based on the look in their eye or a glance they give my kid(s) I can guess the next words out of their mouths. “It goes by so fast….cherish it” “They grow up so fast” “I know it’s cliché but before you know it they will be all grown and out of your house” I sometimes wish I could wear a sign that says…”I’m trying to slow down time, it’s already going so fast, no need for reminders folks, thanks!” But I also get it. I don’t fault these other moms, because they are right. My oldest will turn 5 in November and at the end of this month, on August 30th, our youngest will turn 3. Where the Fuck does the time go???

When I think back on year #2 into year #3 it marks the year he actually started sleeping through the night, was potty trained, got his first haircut, and started talking our ears off. He’s very social and verbally advanced. And I’m not just the that mom that says…oh my child is so much more advanced than all of the other kids. He still can’t identify all of his letters or numbers but he could hold a conversation with any kid or grown up around. He loves cheese sticks, bars (granola, fig, cliff bars), bacon, blueberry pancakes, & yogurt. He’s small (10th % in weight and 29^th percentile in height) but what he lacks in BMI he makes up for in personality.

At only 3 years old, our little guy already makes jokes that cause our 4 year old to shoot milk out of his nose and his mommies cry laughing. And to be clear, it’s usually a joke we should not encourage, but can’t bring ourselves to show self-restraint on. He refuses to sit down for meals…we might get 5 minutes out of him before he gets up and tells us, ‘I’m just going to play a little bit and come back and eat’ as if that’s ok with us. He jumps and climbs on every piece of furniture he can find. He’s mischievous. He’s started to scream, as if his fingernails are being pulled out, anytime he doesn’t get his way or something gets taken away from him. The 3’s are going to be a trying year for us.

That all being said, he is the sweetest boy on the planet. He’s an animal lover. We find him laying on or with our dogs on a regular basis. He chases birds on the beach and gets sad when they fly away from him. He sees a picture of an animal or watches an animal planet show and says “aww, mommy ‘wook at dat little baby’. He’s got an obsession, and I’m not exaggerating, with hair. He has played with our hair since he was a tiny baby. He is as aggressive as Maggie Simpson with his binky sucking…maybe we will give that up this year. He will randomly come up to you and tell you how much he loves you. “My love you mommy”. I hope that doesn’t end anytime soon…it still it melts my heart every time. I’ve never been snuggled harder in my life than by this kid. He has to sleep touching you or being touched by you. Before he goes to sleep at night or when he wakes up in the morning he actually says, ‘Mommy/Mama, I want you snuggle me’.  I feel the need to apologize to his future partner…so here goes: we are sorry. But seriously, what did you expect for a kid with 2 mommies?!

Happy 3^rd birthday little man! Thank you for bringing so much personality into our house…I literally cannot imagine what life would be like without our wild man! The number three is a significant number in our world right now…our baby boy is turning 3 and we are about to add baby #3 to the mix. He is going to make a great big brother!

 

The next morning the heat and humidity of summer in Maryland was an intense reminder of the weather we were leaving. A 500 yard walk to breakfast had McKay talking about wanting to take a shower in the hose a man was using to clean the sidewalk. Touché buddy. Gabe flirted with the waitress, barely ate his breakfast, and walked all around instead of sitting in his chair. Par for the course with this guy. McKay sucked down two “dippy eggs” (over easy eggs) and toast. Liz and I ate nervously but only to curb the empty feeling in our stomachs, knowing we wouldn’t eat until dinner in California. We drove to Gabe’s daycare to drop off the last check and say goodbye to Mrs. Linda or “Sinda” as Gabe had begun to call her. Gabe had been going there since he was 12 weeks old. McKay went there for 18 months prior to Montessori pre-school this year.

She had become an extension of our family and we were blessed to have found her. When Liz about to return to work the daycare we had lined up for Gabe called and said it would be a few more weeks because the new room was delayed due to construction issues. Liz was at the end of her leave and we were generally pissed at the way they handled the whole situation. I sent a Facebook message to a friend who lived close to us to see if she had any recommendations. She did…a woman named Linda that ran an in-home daycare very close to our house. I called her and arranged for Liz to come by and meet her. This was the Tuesday or Wednesday before Thanksgiving.

I dropped him off the Monday morning after Thanksgiving. There is something about leaving your tiny baby with a stranger that I would compare to taking a surprise sucker punch to the gut. That first day I spent feeling extreme guilt over being the worst mom ever, questioning if we had fully vetted Linda enough, voicing these concerns over the phone with Liz, and resisting the urge drive back and pick him up. But day one went well, Gabe was ok, and we took him back on day 2 and came to look at that daycare issue as a bump in the road at the perfect time.  Gabe walked for the first time at Linda’s house and we got the video right away. When our oldest struggled in a new pre-school we moved him to Linda’s as soon as we could. After 3 straight months of him not napping or eating at pre-school he started to flourish at Linda’s. Her homemade black bean soup became his favorite and most requested dish and he napped without complaint.

So here we were, almost 3 years later saying goodbye to this woman that we had trusted with our most precious parts of us. Her husband answered the door and started crying when he saw us. I’d never seen him cry before and his reaction was so unexpected that I began to cry. No one reading this blog is currently surprised by that reaction. Linda saw us and started to get emotional too. She hugged the boys tight and told them how much she loved them. She kissed the tops of their heads, a sign of affection I had seen many times before and had come to love. This wouldn’t have happened a daycare center. She opened a card we had given her and began to cry and again, I lost it. By the time we made it out to the car I was crying uncontrollably and the kids were worried. “Why are you crying mommy, what’s wrong?” ‘I’m just crying because when you love someone it’s hard to say goodbye to them and Linda has been so good to you guys that it makes mommy feel a little sad to leave’. I tried to talk to them about the movie Inside Out. (Side note: If you have kids and have not watched this movie yet you are missing out. It basically takes place in the mind of a kid where characters Joy, Sadness, Disgust, Fear, and Anger play out the little girl’s emotions). I told them that when I said goodbye to Linda I was thinking about all of the Joy that she had given to both of them but that Sadness had touched the memories and that’s why mommy was crying. Liz shot me a warning look and mouthed ‘keep it together’.

We began driving the 15-20 minutes to pick my mom up. She would drop us at the airport and we would say our goodbyes there. She drove even though I said I wouldn’t mind. My mom, never short on words, talked to the boys the whole way there about our plane ride and our move to California. She had packed up some lollipops and gummy bears for her favorite boys to eat on the plane. I didn’t say much, the tears were too near the surface. Every few minutes my mom reached over and held my hand.

We pulled into the airport and Liz and I unloaded more luggage than we had ever taken on a flight before. My mom and the boys got out of the car. When I said goodbye to her I completely lost my shit. Hyperventilating and crying like a toddler who cannot pull themselves out of it. But that was nothing. I watched her kneel down and open her arms for the boys as they ran to her I had to turn away. The emotion bowled me over. These boys had come to adore their crazy Gi-Gi and the time they got with her once a week. And my mom had reached a new level of fulfillment being a grandmother to these crazy little monsters.

We walked into the terminal and got into the security line…I was still a glass case of emotion. Liz said something to the effect of, ‘you need to get yourself together, stop crying, the boys are going to think this is a bad thing that we are moving’. In classic Angela fashion I snapped back. I told her I was trying but that I couldn’t get myself together right this minute and if it were possible I would have done it already. I’m sure the words didn’t come out quite as politely as I have just written them, and no doubt an expletive or two made it into the statement as well.

Liz and I have completely different personalities. She has an amazing ability to compartmentalize and move on. It’s one of the things that makes her super successful at her job. On the other hand, I have a tendency to dwell on things, rehash them in my head, and generally beat a dead horse. She has been a good influence on me in that she calls me out on it and I can’t help but laugh. She calls it sitting in my poop. There are gestures to go along with this. When I’m annoyed, or angry, or frustrated she can normally pull me out of it by making those types of jokes. Highly emotional and about to make a major life change….she didn’t even attempt it.

We boarded the plane…it was officially go time. As we taxied to the runway I grabbed my rosaries and braced myself for my least favorite part of every flight, takeoff. I hate flying because of the loss of control. Yes, I’m a control freak. As we picked up speed, I thought, ahhhh, the irony, and started praying Hail Mary’s. Ready or not, here we come California.

We planned a last “Girls Night Out” (GNO) with my High School Friends in Annapolis. Onto my broken record about not seeing people enough. Outside of one friend who lives in Delaware we all live within 25 minutes of each other but you wouldn’t know it. Life is busy, yeah, yeah. But the real reason I don’t think we see each other enough is because of the obvious void in our group. Kellie is gone. See this group was basically formed by her. Kellie was always our high school friend’s glue. She is the one who would send you letters in college…no, I’m not that old and yes, we had email. Kellie called you on every birthday and wrote you little letters and notes and mailed them snail mail. She organized events to bring us all together during the holidays and post college she created GNO. In classic Kellie fashion she created fake rules and bylaws that were aimed to keep it as exclusive as possible. She threatened to revoke my membership on more than one occasion and whenever someone suggested to add a friend to the group Kellie would reference some fake bi-law that stated you couldn’t live more than 32.5 miles from Annapolis proper. (I’m pretty sure her house was 32.4 miles away).

She was suddenly and cruelly ripped from our lives 4 years ago. We tried to keep the band together. The first couple of years we did a fairly good job of it and then the nights out were fewer and further between. Were all busy…we have 9 kids between us and jobs and spouses…but my gut always takes me back to this big personality that no longer sits at the table gossiping with us, forcing us to take shots, and drink too much beer. El Nino is gone and we are here still picking up the pieces.

I had seen individual GNO members over the last 6 months but we hadn’t gathered together as a cohesive unit for a year maybe? We went out for crabs and beer…we obviously had to get our fill before we headed West. Old Bay and Vinegar on blue crabs isn’t a thing in California. Believe me, it was on our ‘Con’ list. We sat there talking and laughing about old times and current times, ragged on each other, talked about our move…I love these girls. There’s something about the friends that you literally came of age with that is different from any other friendship you will ever know. I will miss them all so much, and at the same time, I have been missing them for a while. I hope that our return trips back home will force some GNO’s onto that calendar and eventually there will be a weekend GNO that travels West to us!

The last few days in Maryland were a blur. We had Monday and Tuesday to get organized before the movers came on Wednesday. My cousins came over on Monday night to say goodbye and by default help us move some furniture out of our house and back into my mom’s place. My cousin Corrine had just gotten married earlier in the summer and brought pictures over. We looked at pictures, talked, ate takeout, and prolonged the inevitable goodbyes. We cried when it was that time. My cousins growing up had been like brothers and sisters to me even though they lived in Florida and my brother and I lived in Maryland. The bond that my cousins shared over that distance is one of the things that made me less anxious about moving our boys away from their cousins.

The movers packed us in a day and loaded the truck on the following day. In just 36 hours our house went from containing our whole lives to feeling like it didn’t belong to us anymore. We would leave on     Friday. Thursday evening we showered in our empty house, zipped our suitcases, and said goodbye to a place that just 3 years ago we’d made our forever home. This was the only place Gabe had ever known and arguably the only place that McKay had remembered. Gabe will probably never remember living here, being brought home only 2 days after he was born, walking here for the first time, throwing tennis balls to the dogs, clapping for the golfers after they teed off on hole #13, walking to the coffee shop, and riding bikes up and down our super long driveway. I cried when we pulled out…Too late to look back…way too freaking late.

As we headed over the Bay Bridge for our last ‘friend’ goodbyes I knew this one was damned from the onset. We were headed to Kellie’s parents’ house. This is the week we lost her 4 years ago and gained two twins that look just like her. My (our) best friend Megan was there…she had driven up from the beach and was headed back that night. She is the reason that Liz’s path and my path ever crossed in the first place. So she is ‘our’ best friend…but I claim her first. She only had to speak 9 words to open the flood gate… ‘ok, I think we are going to head out’. Not that anyone’s goodbye is easy but I knew this was going to be one of the worst. Megan had been my rock through my parents divorce, regular high school woes, my borderline eating disorders, ups and downs in college, my dad’s death, my breakup with my fiance, my coming to terms with not being as straight as I thought…. All of those little cliffhangers above could be their own separate post…or multiple posts. More to come…maybe. I only hope I’ve been there as much for her as I know she has been there for me. It’s not easy leaving her but our friendship is one that can’t be lessened by any number of miles in between us.

After her goodbye I tried to get a hold of myself because ultimately, this night was about Kellie and her family, not me. I did a fairly good job until it was time to say goodbye to Kellie’s mom. I know that Kellie’s three kids, her extended family, and her friends have become lifeboats for her mom. She holds us all close because we are reminders, sad but good, reminders of the daughter that she lost. We held each other close as tears dripped onto the other’s shoulder. Words have become somewhat unnecessary between us….we know what we are both thinking. This isn’t fair, she should still be here, nobody is the same since she died, and we miss her, the void sucks, fuck, shit, fuck.

We checked into a hotel in Annapolis since we didn’t have anything left in our house to sleep on. We had a few things to do in the morning before the airport. Liz and I ordered pizza delivery because we hadn’t eaten dinner. We ate our slices while our two baby boys slept next to us…trying to take in the fact that we were about to turn all of our lives upside down.

With about 2.5 months from when we accepted the job until we would call California home, we began the process of saying goodbye. Towards the end I began likening this experience to planning a wedding vs. eloping. The latter would have been much easier and less painful but we wanted the ‘big wedding’ so that we had time to get used to the idea ourselves and plenty of time for heartfelt filled goodbyes.

Goodbyes started in Baltimore, which, coincidentally, is where Liz and I began. Our friend Kate held a party for us at Little Havana. Little Havana had hosted our friends on many occasions in the past. We drank too many mojitios on the patio that overlooked the industrial – port city that we came to call home. Most of our friends moved to neighboring counties outside of the city when they began to have kids. A few held out and decided they weren’t ready to leave Salty Balty. I can’t blame them. Although we made the move to suburbia about 3 years ago and we no longer had to deal with rats or stolen vehicles or burglarized homes (all could be future blog posts), we missed this place. Baltimore is so much more than meets the eye or that you see on TV. It leaves its mark on your heart and soul. I only lived there for 6 years of my life but it felt more like home to me than many places on this earth ever will.

This group of friends was Liz’s crew originally but when we started dating in ’06 I was adopted into it. Mid-twenties and pre-kids most of our time was spent at bars, playing social league football – followed by bars, theme parties, weddings, bachelorette parties, Raven’s games, and beer Olympics. After four years of banning myself from letting loose or enjoying myself…mourning the loss of my dad…this was a period of much needed letting go. Liz and this newfound group of friends was able to help shake the cobwebs from my soul and make me feel like it was ok to live again.

Kate managed to wrangle up much of the old crew for our send off. As I looked around the party I thought, damn I miss these people (in the present tense…in Maryland)…why the hell haven’t we done this more? Life gets so busy, but we make time to see the people we want to see and do the things we want to do. Sure, it’s harder to plan around a bunch of people’s schedules but when you love people and you genuinely have fun with them…make it work! We were still a good 4-6 weeks out from our move date when this party was held so I didn’t feel sad because it still didn’t feel real. But when we said goodbye to Kate I felt it…the slight tinge in your heart. Kate has always been the glue of this group. She’s met all of our friends at every different place in their lives. Some people get weird when you have kids and think they can’t hang out with you anymore because you have changed. Kate knows that life has changed but just expects you to get a freaking babysitter. But she also went places with all of our kids and talked to them about life. She cares and you can’t fake that. Kate is real, true, and a little bit crazy. And we wouldn’t have it any other way.

We then, somewhat unintentionally, said goodbye to some of our favorite places….we went to a concert at Merriweather Post Pavilion with a few of my friends from college. Again, we don’t see them as often but when we do it’s like we just saw each other a few weekends ago. My brother came with us and that felt like old times. The three of us hung out a lot in between my brother’s relationships. It felt like we were always a safe place for him to land. We drank until the wee hours of the night and listened as he talked incessantly about (insert ex-girlfriend’s name here). We dubbed said girlfriend or multiple said girlfriends as ‘Madeline’ after the movie Death Becomes Her. If you’ve seen the movie this will make you laugh. If you haven’t, forget it and move on. I’ll write another post about my brother one day but for now, I can’t. It’s too emotional. Let’s just say, I’m going to miss the hell out of him and I can’t wait until he comes to visit. Liz and I went to our last concert at the 9:30 club in DC…Grace Potter…one of our favs. We hit the gay sports bar down the street from the concert for dinner beforehand which had always been our go to.

We went to Bald Head Island, our last hurrah before we would come home and pack. We were with Liz’s family who we always travel there with. Our nieces were there, my sister in law, one of my brother in laws, and Liz’s parents. Not much will change about this trip. We have committed to coming back every summer to spend that week with them. But BHI will definitely see us much less often. We are no longer a 7 hour drive away. Last year we went for a week in June, 5 days in September, and the week from Christmas to the New Years.

I know we will have access to any number of beaches but there is something about BHI that is so special, almost magical. I remember when my niece, now 8 years old and swimming like a fish, was scared to swim on her own and when we finally talked her into going down the slide.  I remember my brother and sister in law’s wedding when it rained right before the ceremony and cleared up just before the big moment. I remember when Liz and I were first trying to have a baby and I found out I wasn’t pregnant on the drive there. That trip was over our anniversary and I have a vivid memory of sitting on the deck at Ebb and Flo’s drinking too many Bud Light Limes wondering how long it would take us to have a baby. I remember when I was pregnant with our first baby and my niece was sick and she took my temperature in my belly button…or what was left of it. I still remember the nervousness that came with being a new mom and bringing our 6 week old to the Island for the first time. That trip we were still in the fog of being new parents. We would wake up very early when he did, I would feed him, and then all 3 of us would go back to sleep until mid-morning. Then we’d take a walk and read, stare at him, eat dinner, drink wine, repeat. He is now diving under North Carolina waves and swimming on his own. Life moves quickly even when you try to slow it down. You begin to think about all of these past milestones when you are approaching a current milestone.

When we said goodbye to Liz’s family after the Ferry ride I cried when I hugged my nieces and my sister in law. Liz’s sister and I are sometimes emotional kindred spirits so I think we both did our best to hold back as many tears as possible and keep the flood gates closed. Vacation was over, we were headed back to Maryland to pack and move, shit was getting real.