Change of season

mom and baby roo
Originally uploaded by bugbiteme.

It seems essential to say that today is my mom's birthday. She would have been 62. 62 seems so young and it's so unfair that she's gone already. There are real effers that live to 100. Like I said, it's unfair.

Can we talk about work? I have a new-ish job. I floated from one unnamed public agency (UPA) to another. The new UPA is a much better working environment. My morale is much higher now that I do not have to check in with someone before I use the bathroom. Most of my day is spent editing text and doing fairly simple admin work. I do my tasks quickly and I try not to let on that I can do much, much more for much, much less. Lunchtimes are awesome. I love being downtown. When the weather is nice, I eat in view of the Capitol building. The gardens and trees are blowing up right now. It's springtime in Sacramento! I've been riding the light rail to work, which is not bad so far. I haven't really been bothered by anyone (unless you count the fellow commuter who wanted a dollar and the other woman who wanted to use my phone to call her friend, um no and no) and the trains have been on time more or less. I commute during peak hours, so it's been kind of crowded. I can never find a seat, but there's usually a handle to hold. Overall, it's better than when I was working in Natomas. And every day, I remind myself I'm doing it for Ira. Do you know he can name the 7 continents!? Amazing. That school will have him ready for Harvard School of Dental Medicine in no time.

This kid has it better than I did in so many ways. Like, right now, we're waiting for his passport. Really. We'll need it for a family trip to Mazatlan in a couple of months. I didn't get my passport until I was married! Man, Ira's going to be so stoked on Mexico. Quesadillas for every meal!

Catch the red eye

Ugh. Do you know what sucks? This awesomely awful case of pink eye I've had for a month. And yes, I know where it comes from. Ira was exposed to it at preschool, then I got it. Then it went away and then I became reinfected at least three more times over the past few weeks. The worst part is that I cannot wear my contacts while I'm on the anti-biotics, only glasses. But here's the deal: I cannot stand my glasses! In them, I feel so unlike myself. Also, I made the horrible mistake of getting transition lenses on my last prescription. I thought they'd come in handy since I didn't want to spring for prescription sunglasses. The problem is that the transition lenses remain a very faint shade of gray indoors, which makes my brain totally batty.

So if you've seen me in glasses recently, you know that someone touched poop and then touched something else and then Ira touched that thing, touched his eyes, then I touched him and touched MY eyes and that's how I ended up having to throw away tons of expensive make up.

Lately my life has been a whole lot about missing. But before I get
into that, would you look at this face? At the end of the day, it's
all about this dear face.

I'm missing my mom. It's beyond the loneliest missing I could have
ever conceived. Every day when I wake up I feel like I'm hit in the
face with my grief and at night I'm smothered by it.

I'm missing my life at home with Ira. I miss the park trips, the
playdates, the moments when I got to witness so many firsts. The times
I could be there to pick him up from a fall. Now I'm just missing him
all day.

I'm missing how I used to get it all done. The chores, errands, the
home cooked meals, the bread!! The other night I was cooking until
11:30 pm and still woke up at 4:30 am to work out.

Woe is me. Serously! I am woe, embodied. If you came here for laughs,
try me later because my sense of humor seems to be missing, too.

Escalating series of events: a caveat

In the beginning, there were cats. And they were good. We adored the cats. We lived to please them. We missed them while we went out of town and even called the house so that they could hear our voices on the answering machine.

Then there was the dog. We really fell for the dog. Like the kind of LOVE where hearts shoot out of your eyes. And we could take the dog with us and the dog liked it. And we thought, "this dog is cool, but we can't take her everywhere."

Can you see where this is going?

Then came the kid. We can take him almost everywhere, including places where dogs aren't allowed. We LOVE the kid. And this is the kind of love that keeps us up at night wondering if we're doing right by him. It's the heavy, serious kind of love that we can't live without.

My advice: maybe don't get a cat. You never know where that decision will lead you.