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Showing posts with label laughter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label laughter. Show all posts

Sunday, October 2, 2016

Happily Exhausted


To say that this has been a long three weeks would be an extraordinary understatement.  It has been packed to the brim with some, wonderful moments and also some doozies.  So far this fall has been full of family, back to school routines, and the beginning of extracurricular activities.  It brought me to some old friends that made my heart feel full and me feel old.  There has been equal parts snuggles and battles between the little lady and me.  We have been busy to the point of pure exhaustion- I can feel it in my bones- but taking a look back at it, it's all been worth it.

Getting Kennedy back to school has had its challenges.  She loves school, adores her teacher and the routines they have, and can’t wait to see her friends each day she goes.  We are up to three days a week this year, which is great but this mama has always struggled with morning-time-management.  It doesn’t matter how much I get prepped the night before, come morning I am always running around, losing my patience and swearing, mostly in my head but I’m admittedly imperfect and so there is an occasional “$h*t” thrown out here and there.  The complicating factor this year is getting Kennedy ready as I simultaneously stumble through my own routine.  More than that: The kid is insistent on choosing her clothes.  Which is fine, since she picks out everything she owns in the stores for the most part, except that after we choose her outfit the night before, come morning it’s never right.  She doesn’t like the color, the fit, the pattern, you name it.  There are usually tears from one of us while the other one is trying to stand their ground.  I’ll be honest-she usually wins and I threaten things, emptily, like giving away the things she wants to wear over and over, like her Princess Elena tee-shirt.  I'm sure the clothes thing will get easier as she gets older, right?




We’ve started dance too.  So, now we have a dancing hockey player.  We are working on being well rounded.  Kennedy doesn't seem to see much of a difference in the two; she transitions from one to the other seamlessly.  She loves them both and so when I’m exhausted from being out all day by the time hockey practice ends and I’d rather be sleeping in on Saturday morning than watching dance class- it's all beyond worth it when she smiles as she twirls or sticks the landing as she jumps over her hockey stick.




We made a trip down to Long Island for my mother’s best friend’s son, my childhood buddy’s wedding reception.  Time and distance has kept us from seeing each other for years but when he gave me a big’ole bear hug the second I saw him, it was like no time had passed.  Spending time with him, my parents, a few of my siblings, and some family and friends did me good.






 Photo credit: Brianne Wakefield 

Photo credit: Brianne Wakefield 

The following weekend was a working one for me and so even though it was cut a little short, Sunday was a day filled with fun and family time.  We went antiquing, where it made me laugh to see my little lady tickled by all of the “old stuff,” as she kept shouting out.  After a few good finds we met my sister and her boys at a local Fall park-type-place with all kids of fun!  It was a day filled with fun and laughing, fighting and tears, but as is always the way in my family, we make it work.  Love can be a sticky thing but it's what holds us all together.




Photo credit: Sara DeSanctis 

Photo credit: Sara DeSanctis 



Photo credit: Sara DeSanctis







Photo credit: Sara DeSanctis



Monday, September 26th, Sean and I brought over the first donation to the Labor and Delivery Unit’s Bereavement committee at Albany Medical Center on behalf of Jack’s Herd.  The amount of love and outpouring of support has been nothing short of amazing.  To supply the materials to give grieving mommies and daddies the same kinds of things Sean and I cherish so much, all we have of our sweet baby Jack, moved me in a way I can’t put into words.  Part of me sobbed when it was done because in order for it to be used someone else’s life has to come apart, and yet the other part of me felt an overwhelming joy that my baby boy is still able to carve out a place in this world.   You are all helping us do this for him and I love you for it.



The end of one month and the beginning of a new one brought us back down to the Island for another wedding.  It was for my best friend from high school’s little sister.  These are two girls that are in most of the best memories I have from my teenaged years.  My fondest memories are of sitting around their big wooden farm table with them and their mom talking and laughing into the early hours of the morning.  I hadn’t seen any of them since Jack had died and my heart has ached for them all of these months.  There isn’t a good reason for letting so much time go by but I can only explain it as the girl they had known all of these years has just been buried so deep by heartache and life that I didn't know if I fit with them anymore.  Going to the wedding and seeing the beautiful little girl that I loved like my little sister as a gorgeous bride and my best friend standing with her, so proud of her too and their mama calling out my name like I was sixteen back in her kitchen proved my doubts wrong.  If anything, seeing them, hugging them, and more than anything laughing with them showed me that that girl is still in here, and every once in a while, more often than I’ve been, I need to dust her off and let her out for a visit.





So now I sit, snuggled in my bed on a chilly fall afternoon, still slightly hung-over and reminded that I'm not nearly as young as I used to be, I am tired.  But, and this is where it all counts, I am happy.  I haven't felt genuinely happy in a while.  So if it takes a bit of exhaustion to be happy every so often, I’ll pay that price.


 I may just have to throw a three-hour nap in here or there along the way.


Sunday, June 26, 2016

Memories for Sale


There is something about yard sales that always makes me feel a little sad.  I don’t actually know if sad is the proper adjective to use; nostalgic maybe?  Either way, sifting through someone else’s things makes me feel like I’m either invading their privacy, judging their sanity (that is to say, “why in God’s name did you ever own that?!”), or getting a glimpse at who they were at one point or another.  This weekend it was the Doyle’s that were on display in the neighborhood.

I not-so-secretly used to wonder, often aloud and full of scorn, how my parents had acquired so much crap in their house.  Well I ate a big ‘ole slice of humble pie as I recently looked around my own basement and wondered, aloud and wrought with that familiar scorn, how we had accumulated so much of our own shit in the basement of a home we had only inhabited for four years.  My parents had at least taken a good thirty or so years to do their damage but I felt like at the rate we were travelling, I was well on my way to an episode of hoarders.  So, yard sale it was. 

We put out tables and tables of items that had at one time seemed like great little home additions- lamps, framed art or decorative quotes, a yo-nana (the frozen “yogurt” maker-that-uses-bananas-but-I’m-the-only-banana-eater-in-the-house-and-so-it-was-solely-a-dust-collector-investment...don’t you judge us), etc.



We were shocked each time a car drove off with things that we couldn’t imagine anyone would want.  More than that, the mix of people that stopped by entertained us.  I can’t tell you how many well-meaning older ladies commented after seeing some of the baby items we had for sale, “Oh you’re done having babies?”  I wanted to say, “I don’t know but this crap earned its spot on the table because I learned only by trial-and-error how ridiculous that trendy eco-friendly bathtub is and my incredibly overpriced stroller was awful to push and had no shock absorbency and woke my sleeping baby every time I pushed her in it and hit a bump and I am hoping that I can try and recoup my bad investments by making them seem appealing to you!”  Instead I just smiled and said, “For now!” because I may be a lot of things but I am certainly polite above all else.

Kennedy seized our clean out as an opportunity to evoke her executive veto power in regards to selling anything that she had ever laid eyes on.  Seriously, if she touched it at one point in her life we couldn’t sell it.  So we distracted her and kept her busy hocking lemonade at the bottom of the driveway in order to unload a few things we felt she could survive without-we like to live dangerously, Sean and I.  She was a natural, and made, with the help of one Cooper J-code name Gingersnap, $15 over the two days of selling.  Seriously though, the two of them ate it up, as did the people that downed their somewhat cool lemonade on a 90-degree day. 



My little guy made his presence known when our new neighbors stopped by with their two little kids, a little girl wearing an elephant on her shirt, and a little boy…named Holden.  I held it together long enough for them to walk away without giving them the impression the lady down the block is a lunatic, but I still have goosebumps thinking about it.

We broke up the days with some laughs, dips in Kennedy’s little pool, and freeze pops galore. 








So no, it’s not the things themself that make me nostalgic at yard sales but the memories that are attached to them.  Like seeing the little porcelain boy holding McDonald’s fries doesn’t really do it for me in-and-of-itself but it doesn’t take much for me to remember being the 7 year old girl begging her mom to make the three reasonable (HA!) installments of $29.95 after seeing him in a catalogue.  I remember watching my new little peanut sleep in that stroller on the back deck for hours wondering if I was letting her sleep too long and I remember being so excited to find the adorable canvas of a newspaper-hat-wearin’ pirate when I’d decided that would be the theme for Jack’s nursery.  And really when it comes down to it, you’re selling the stuff not the memories not to mention clearing some space to make some new memories.

little baby Kennedy


In a stroke of luck there were no takers for that because I don’t think I was really ready to let it go-and who knows maybe there is a place for him on my office walls next school year.



One last side note: I bought this from my sister for a quarter.  It is a 25 mL beaker that I will now use as a tiny bud vase.  Why did I have to have this you ask?  Well my rule-abiding-at-all-cost sister stole this from our uppity private high school’s science lab.  And that right there, ladies and gents, is a memory I will keep forever.