I don’t say it much, but I frequently feel like I’m failing- as a person, as a friend, as a mom, you name it. I feel like I’m flailing my way through life trying to be the best I can be, but the little voice in my head says it’s just not enough. We all have that voice to some extent. Sometimes I feel like I’m failing as all of them at once.

Before I sink too deep in that feeling where I almost can’t breathe, life throws me a line. Last night, before her bath, eldest was (and someday she’ll find out I documented this and probably smack me, but it was such a beautiful moment that I’ll gladly take the hit) dancing in front of the mirror. Wiggling her booty, checking out all her bits and parts while singing “naked baby, naked baby” like they both did frequently during bath time when they were wee little ones. It wasn’t some inappropriate dance of an older woman. It wasn’t the self conscious dance of a tween. It was just pure childlike joy of being naked, alive, and free. I totally cried. She didn’t see me, but I did. I worry so much about them growing too fast or having their own voices in their heads filled with doubt.

Dear Sweet, Wonderful Child of Mine,

Love of my life, light of my heart, pain in my tush- I truly love how much you love Doctor Who. I love that you feel compelled to fervently reply when someone posts a hypothesis that Rory was the Master online. Your retort was well thought out and articulate.

Just two tiny things- 1. the internet allows anyone, and I do mean anyone, to write whatever drivel they want about anything, and I do mean anything. Engaging in arguments online is rarely a good idea.

2. If you ever wake me up at the 7am on a Sunday when I’ve been sick and exhausted all week to read me the aforementioned hypothesis and your retort again, I swear on all that is holy, sacred, and Gallifreyan that you will wake up one morning to a giant angel statue at the foot of your bed. You won’t know when, you won’t know how. It will just happen.

And I will not feel sorry.

Love you the mostestest,

Mommy

Since I began this blog years ago, my girls have grown.  They are nine and ten now. Pre-tweens.

And I want to hit rewind and pause on a regular basis.

The problems they faced then were so much easier. I could kiss it better.  Now, it’s the big stuff. The stuff that scars if not handled right. The stuff that shapes them as young women.

I am super proud to be a member of the Geek Girls Book Club.  (Seriously- join us here– boys are allowed!) We’ve read some incredible books. This month, though, it’s perfect timing. April is Yes, Please by Amy Poehler. I’ve felt for a long time that she was my spirit animal. Now I know she is. It’s so smart and funny and EMPOWERING.

There are so very many quotes in it that resonate with me. Some are a balm for old wounds. One of those that struck a cord hard is:

“It takes years as a woman to unlearn what you have been taught to be sorry for.”

When I posted it on Facebook last night, it turns out that I am not alone.

From abusive relationships to upbringing,  we all bonded with the realization that we apologize for so many things that we need not. As a gender, we are forced to apologize for just being us. It is one of the hardest habits to break.

AND WE ARE DONE.

So, the “I’m Not Sorry Summit” will be coming.  Along with one of my soul sisters, we will be creating a week-long event that builds women and girls of all ages up. That fills them with love and the tools grow. To use their voices to implement change. To build each other up.

To not be sorry.

In the mean time, pick yourself up a copy of Yes, Please.  You’re welcome. 🙂

For as long as I can remember, I have been a Star Wars fan. Every birthday I’d get pissed because I’d tear open my gifts and instead of an At-Tat or the Millennium Falcon, I’d get a freakin’ Monchichi or Strawberry Shortcake’s latest sidekick. Some solace was taken in the fact that I was the only girl that ever got to play Leia at recess. Part of that was probably the fact that I was the only one that could do the buns, but I didn’t care. I remember tearing ass down the isle to front row center when we went to see Return of the Jedi. While I may have lost my Star Wars sheet set along the way, I still have some of my trading cards left and my trusty rusty Return of the Jedi lunch box still faithfully holds some of my art supplies. And of course I own the DVD box sets.

One cold, rainy Saturday morning a couple of months after she turned 3, my eldest monkey figured out how to open the secret door of the entertainment stand and handed me “Phantom Menace.” “Mommy, this is my movie choice. I wanna watch this one.” The pride, oh the pride. I patted her head, told her it would be too scary and too hard for her to understand and insisted she pick a new one. Bless her gorgeously geek heart, she stood firm on her choice. Her arguments in the end were simple. “If I don’t understand something, I’ll ask you mommy and if it gets too scary, we can turn it off.” Hells bells, you can’t really argue with logic like that.

Ten minutes later, another fan was born. Two more actually, lilest monkey sat in wide-eyed wonderment cheering and booing right along with her. But, eldest took it to a whole new level. The rest of that weekend was spent watching all six in order up to her new beloved Anakin was “saved.” It floored me how little I needed to explain to her. There are so many favorite moments from that weekend. I think my favorite was when Luke made it out with Vader and she looked at me and said “Wow, he actually managed to pull it off.” Not remembering I was talking to my 3 year old and being mother of the year- my response? “Right? He’s kind of a wuss.” Sorry folks, I was a Han Solo girl all the way.

Most of my friends weren’t entirely surprised at my “how I spent my weekend.” I swear everyone we encountered over the next few months heard her tales of the battle of dark and light, the path of a Jedi, the power of the force, the wisdom of Obi Wan and Yoda, her undying love for Anakin and the importance of having really good friends be they human, wookie or robot. Then one of my friends sent me a now rather famous YouTube clip of a 3 year old explaining Star Wars. I watched it and giggled. It didn’t really occur to me the vast differences between that 3 year old and mine. VAST. Thinking she’d be happy to find a kindred spirit, I showed her this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EBM854BTGL0

I expected a giggle. I did not expect her to lose her lil mind. She seriously damn near cussed that lil girl out. It went like this:

(Bear in mind, I did warn her it was only about New Hope, aka “When they save Leia” – oops I forgot to mention she renamed them all. I’ll footnote the rest.)

“What? The ‘sand people’ are Jawas and they aren’t that important.”

“ ‘Shiny one?’ ‘Shiny one?’ It’s C3PO. Duh.”

(At this point I’m staring blankly at my irate lil monkey.)

*HUGE GASP* “NO ONE MISPRONOUNCES OBI WAN KANOBI’S NAME!! NO ONE MOMMY!!!”

“Huh? That ‘light up sword’ is a light saber! Light SABER!”

“Leia wasn’t in jail. She was being held captive by Imperial Forces.”

“That’s it?? That’s it?? What about the subplot??!” (WTF!? Did my 3 year old really just say subplot!?!?!) “No Han? No Chew? MMMMOOOOOMMMM!!!!”

“Yeah, Darth will getchya because you, you are NO JEDI!!” (Yes, she was totally pointing her lil finger at her too.)

“Mommy, don’t EVER show me that girl again.”

That’s when it became clear to me that she wasn’t your average 3 1/2 year old. It also became clear I was raising a lil ÜberGeekGirlie in training. In my book, that’s just awesomsauce.

Yes, she still plans on marrying Anakin and is desperately pleading her case to her sister for decorating their new bathroom all Star Wars. My money is on her. Lil geek girls FTW!

***As promised- she renamed them all right away to remember them better. Never mind the fact she could tell you who Qui Gon Jinn was. So, in order:

“When Anakin was little”

“When Anakin became a Jedi”

“When Anakin caught on fire”

“When they save Leisa”

“When Luke becomes a Jedi”

“When Luke saves Anakin”

Most of my life I’ve been the Debbie Downer of April Fool’s Day. My inner Spock (when properly coffeenaited) is pretty quick. So, I was hard to get. I guess the harder you are to get (in this case only for me) the harder people try. Over the years people have gone to some pretty great lengths to catch me unawares. Either way, it was a day I was completely “meh” over.

Until 7 years ago and a case of heartburn. The only time in my grown up life I ever got heartburn was when I was prego with Grace. I was home on the 1st, though I can’t remember why. Morning started normal. Then I felt it- heartburn. It had only been oh 7 months ish since I had Eldest so I was hoping it was risidual or something. And then I counted. Eh only a day late, surely that wasn’t anything.

Then I panicked and called one of my best friends with “I think I might be pregnant.” You know that someone knows you inside and out when you call them on April Fool’s and say that and their response isn’t “ha ha April Fool’s” it’s “Um, you’ve been pregnant before hon so if you think you are, you probably are- go get a test!”

So, off I went to Walgreen’s and back I came with two tests (we always do two, I have no idea why) and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey. Don’t judge. And 10 minutes later I was sitting on the couch FREAKING OUT as I stared at the double-lined stick. I called her back crying “HOW AM I GOING TO HANDLE TWO OF THEM!?!? ” I was terrified. I hadn’t really gotten fully used to being a mommy yet and Eldest was planned. We wanted two but I so was not expecting them to be so close together. Her response was “you’ll figure it out and it’ll be fine.” And she was right.

Telling Father of the Year was a totally different beast. I sat there wondering when I should tell him. If I told him today he’d think I was kidding. If I told him the next day, he’d scream I waited. Either way I was screwed. So, I made him a card and waited until he got home. Then Eldest and I gave him the card. Then he screamed about it being a shitty April Fool’s joke and stayed pissed off the entire night. I showed him the stick, I burst into tears. He just kept calling me an asshole.

Much, much later, we’re in bed and he says “It’s 12:10, you know it’s not April Fool’s Day anymore, right?” My response? “You know I’m still knocked up, right?”

And then I fell asleep while he freaked out. 🙂

So, now I absolutely love April Fool’s Day. It reminds me of Lilest and she’s 1/2 of my heart. And if you know her, it’s hilarious that I found out on this day that she was in my belly. 🙂

You would be (or rather should be) Hellbent on finding a mother that wouldn’t love to protect her children from every horrible or hurtful experience out there. I am certainly no exception. In fact, as much as I joke about my mama bearness, I know that I have the ability to go off the deep end of neurotic when it comes to my girls. They are my world. If I could roll them in bubble wrap and lock them in one of those medi-bubbles, part of me would. Deep down I know they need to go through things like pain, hurt and sorrow to appreciate joy, love and happiness all the more. But, heaven help the first person that breaks their hearts. And heaven help the friends that have to hold me back from tearing that person’s out.

The girls have fallen in love with Adele and understandably so. I am convinced her and I would be besties if we ever met. Not only is she amazingly talented, but she’s off the charts adorable and charming. And she loves to swear. We’d have such fun together. One of their favorites of hers is “Someone Like You.” In mom mode, I think “okay, no sex and cursing so it’s okay for them to listen to.” I tend to not ever really gauge how deep a song is and whether or not they will “get it.” I suppose it’s just knowing them so well. If they have questions, they ask. So, tonight they asked me to “find a youtube of her singing it.” I was happy to oblige. I figured they’d yell at me to sing along as well (bless them for loving my really horrible singing) and that they would sing along as well. What I hadn’t anticipated was the emotion they did so with. And the discussion after that occurred.

Turns out they get it. They get the song. They learned through it that love doesn’t always work out. That you can love someone with all of your heart, or think that you do, and that may not be enough. Or someone could love you like that and you not feel it. That someday someone may break their heart and love again much quicker than them. That romantic love is a tricky thing.

I suspect they will continue to amaze the Hell out of me on a regular basis. That I will continue to wonder how they came about such wisdom and how I was lucky enough to be blessed with them.

So tonight we leaped our first hurdle. Our first open talk of broken hearts. And we all survived. I know that when it really happens it won’t be as easy, but tonight may help make it just a bit easier than it could be. They know that Disney is just one story. That mommy is still on good terms and, in some cases, very good friends with people she once loved like that. That we all survived and have loved again.

As I tucked them in, they had me skip the usual lullaby and sing “Make You Feel My Love.” And then Lilest asked me again why she couldn’t marry me because she knows I will always love her and never break her heart. After I was done explaining, she then asked me if she could marry Adele. 🙂

I will never love anyone more than I love those two.

My doctor called me while I was just done dropping the girls off this morning. I’d already made the decision that I NEED to make time to write down our conversations. Especially the silly ones. This morning’s was fun. As a geek mom, I have the ability to chronicle their lives for them in a way generations before me couldn’t. I can assemble an entire book with photos and captions, a book of them. They can keep this book and pull it out and read it to their children one day. I have made myself a promise that, no matter what, I am going to do this. I have to.

None of us know how long we will be here. I have great plans and decades to spend with my girls in my mind and heart. But, it’s not solely up to me. So, doc informed me that I have the most stubborn white blood cells and cervix she’s ever seen. The fact that I am abnormal is not a shock, but I would be lying if I didn’t say that this was the one time in my life I wish I was called normal. The cells bother her, the cervix we suspected and it doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s back. But, it does mean I get a hot date with a LEEP and sadly she said they just can’t LEEP away my entire cervix. One of these days it’ll buy me dinner first damnit.

I’m at a different place this time around, a different mind set. While I’ve always had the “let’s do this! Let’s fight back!” attitude, I was getting weary. Balancing everything was a trick before, now it’s flat-out draining. This past summer when I made the decision to go back to work full time, rather than freelance, I picked a place that was very unlike me. Yet, it fit perfectly. It’s a seasonal company. Meaning, I get laid off over the next few weeks. A lay of with pay enough to get me through it and time to take a step back and revamp. A much needed breather. A chance for a re-birth.

And I plan on taking advantage of every moment of it. I’ve revamped our eating habits and begun training for the Dirty Girl Run. I’ve begun to reorganize our house, though you probably can’t tell looking at it right this moment. The girls and I have settled in to the new schedule so far, but this is just week one of it. Now, it’s back to the things that matter. Refocusing on the dream and making it happen this year- cancer or no cancer.

Another upside of all of this was that it allotted (read: forced) me to take a step back and look at everything and everyone in my life. To boil things down to what is most important. To come to terms with what I may truly mean to some and them to me. To take stock and make an effort to mend some that may have needed mending and deal with whether it was reciprocated or not. You know how you know when someone is a real friend? It could be hours, days, weeks, years since you’ve sat down and really talked, yet a beat is never missed and that love is still there and even if they don’t have time at the moment, you can tell they are happy as Hell to hear from you.

And I’ve learned that if you completely fuck it all up, there is tomorrow.

Every single day we all get a re-do.

P.S. So today’s conversations on the way to school…..

Lilest: “GIVE US MATH PROBLEMS!!”
Eldest: “YEAH MOMMY!!! MATH PROBLEMS!”
Both: (chanting) “MATH PROBLEMS! MATH PROBLEMS!”

They are such nerds! Now, coming up for math problems for a 6 and 7 year old while driving may sound like a piece of cake. My girls don’t deal with “what’s 3 + 7?” Nope, they want WORD problems. Which means that I have to keep track of my own problem while I’m making it up. Possibly on a lack of coffee. While driving through a town that I swear has the worst drivers ever.

Me: “Okay, Hailey first… if there are 3 houses on the right side and 4 houses on the left side, how many houses are on the block?”
Lilest: “Duh, that’s 7. MAKE THEM HARDER!!”
Me: “Okie Dokie. If there are 14 houses on this block and 7 are on the right side, how many are on the left?’
Lilest: “SEVEN!”
Eldest: “SEVEN! HEY! IT WAS MY TURN YOU BIG DOOFUS!”
Me: “NOT OKAY!!!”
Eldest: “You gotta take turns cuz I know more stuff than she does, I get harder ones.”
Me: “Okay, (insert eldest’s name here) there are 12 houses on the next block, all with 2 windows. How many windows are on the block?”
Eldest: “Good one! Let me think!”
Lilest: “That’s a multiplication problem.” 
Eldest: “I KNOW!!”

Eldest got it right. In fact they both got all of theirs right. Lilest’s next one was “If mommy drinks one cup of coffee every hour and I spend 3 hours at Starbucks, how many cups of coffee will I have drank?” And Eldest got the last one with “If we got to AJ Bombers for dinner and they have a big special going where hamburgers cost $1.00 and sweet potato chips are $0.50 how much would it cost all together if we each got one hamburger and one order of sweet potato chips?”

I love that they love to learn. I love that they are a bit competitive in that department. I love that we take the time to actually spend time together in the car on the way to and from, well anywhere together. But, especially to school. We both need that love in the morning.

It may look like just an ordinary table. Sadly, some may think it ugly. Both couldn’t be further from the truth. What lies buried deep within the wood are years and years of memories. Of laughter. Of love.

Once upon a time, this table was the only table in my grandmother’s modest little apartment.

If you’ve read my “Yup, I’ve Got Boobs” (http://lifeinmonkeyland.blogspot.com/2009/10/yup-ive-got-boobs.html) post, you have caught a small glimmer into the awesomeness that was my grandmother. Her and my aunt were the first and only real strong female role models that I had growing up. Whenever I look at my family and wonder how I fit in, I think of them and it begins to make sense. She was also the only grandparent I’ve ever known.

Grandma passed away December 30th, 1999 of Pancreatic Cancer. Fuck you very much again Cancer. I remember someone looking at me and saying “Awww she just missed seeing the new millennium.” She was the feistiest 85 year old you would have ever met and I know exactly what her response would have been “New millennium, same shytting thing.” Someday I plan on writing a series of posts on her. Not only because the stories are great, but because they need to be preserved so I may hand them down to the girls and they can hand them down. To listen to them tell their children how great grandma rode to work on the back of a Harley and made the best Matzoh Ball soup ever is something I hope I live to hear.

Someday. But not today. I don’t have the strength in me today to open that all up. This last year has been one continual fight against the very type of beast that took my grandmother and my aunt. And it has gotten overwhelming. There have been days where I am so tired I just want to curl in a ball and cry. But then I think of them, take a deep breath and think “I’ve got this.” I miss them both so much.

Today I stood in the pouring rain, holding the door open as my parents brought it out of the back of their minivan. As soon as the first chair came out, I caught my breath. By the time the table came out, the lump in my throat was huge. I kept trying to swallow it, hoping the rain would help me wash it down. I haven’t seen it since before she passed.

Now it sits in our home where our memories, our laughter, our love can be added to those already within it. Its mere presence has already brought me comfort. I want to hug it, to sit at it and lay my head upon it… listening for her voice, smelling for Matzoh Ball soup.

To many it may look like a simple table. To me it is a piece of my grandma.

So, if you follow me on the twitters or the facebook then you know I took the monkeys a rummagin’ yesterday. You may also know that it was the “$10.00 for whatever you can fit in your bag” day and one of the women was not so thrilled when she saw my bag. For I am 1. a single mom and b. have mad Tetris skills.

The haul?

8 skirts
6 pairs of shorts
2 dresses
2 pairs of monkey pjs’s
1 monkey sun visor
23 tops (mostly T shirts)

All pretty hipster wearing brand names.

So, that works out to be roughly to be roughly 24 cents a piece. 🙂

And it’s all stuff I can layer the mess outta when it gets warmer. 🙂

Don’t ever let anyone tell you Tetris would not come in handy!!