How Soon We Forget

Thanks to Sheri for keeping it real. She motivated this email I wrote to MSNBC, my network of choice. By no means does it condemn just that network, but the media in general. I'm sure my comments will do nothing, but at least I got my say:

Date: Fri, 21 Apr 2006 07:21:54 -0700 (PDT)
From: "Marie Rossiter" Subject: How soon we forget
To: viewerservices@msnbc.com

I am an avid reader of MSBNC.com and tune into MSNBC as often as I can. I usually find your work relevant, current and objective.

Therefore, I am puzzled with the fact that your network, like most others in our country's media, feels that stories related to Tom Cruise, Queen Elizabeth's birthday and the ouster of the latest Survivor contestant warrants more attention than recognizing the Oklahoma City Bombing and Columbine tragedies.

I don't like wallowing in sadness, but come on! Every time I click on a news site or flip the channel (yes, your network included) I see so much time devoted to the lives of people that really hold no special meaning or significance in our daily lives--as a people and as a nation.

Time, it seems, does heal all wounds.

But, the scars are still there--especially for those directly affected by these tragedies. I don't happen to be one of them, but I remember the horrors of Oklahoma City and Columbine. I watched the riveting images on MSNBC as events unfolded.

I don't believe that bad or morose news should plaster our broadcasts, papers and magazine. We have enough bad news to go around. However, shame on the media for glossing over such important dates in our history in favor of discussing the "irony" of Baby Cruise and Baby Sheilds being born on the same day at the same hospital.

What will we forget next? The trooops in Iraq? How about September 11? It has been 5 years after all...

I hope the media, and its viewers, gets their collective priorities straight sometime soon. Let's focus on the people of this world who give all they can, including their lives, instead of those who have so much because of our country's obsession was fame.

Thank you.

Sincerely, Marie Rossiter viewer, Auburn, ME

"I'd like to thank the academy???"

Holy Crap! I can't believe it's been two weeks since my last post. Not sure what my excuse is, which really means I don't have one. Guess I just haven't had much to say.

I have been working on my writing, although not as much as I'd like. I am heading toward the end of an online writing class, and I am disappointed with it, so far. I have accomplished the goal of focusing more on my writing, though, so that is a good thing that has come out of it. The experience just isn't what I expected it to be: i.e., getting detailed feedback about my submitted work, having online discussions about our work, etc. Then again, I didn't pay a lot for this course, so it may be a getting my money's worth.

There are a few classes I've been looking at for quite some time, but they are EXPENSIVE! I'm talking to the tune of hundreds of dollars. However, most of these classes are either through an established college or other reputable writing instruction program. Still, it may be better to take one or two of these classes and really get something out of my work, compared to dropping smaller amounts more often and walking away disappointed.

I have been more active in my online writing group and a comment that a fellow member gave me has stirred up some conflicted feelings. He read the first chapter of a fiction book I'm working on and said he really enjoyed it; however (there's always a but, right?) he thought my work lended itself more to screenplays than novels. This is something that I've been struggling with for a while. The majority of my writing does center around dialogue, whether its to give the reader a clear picture of the characters or moving the story along. A number of people have made given me this feedback and so I'm really wondering if this is something I should pursue more. I have a few screenplay books and have been on the verge of sitting down and cranking something out. It's all just so foreign to me, and it's kinda scary. I have an idea for a project to "get my feet" wet, but won't say much more about it until I make a committed decision. Just when I think I know what I'm doing, I discover that I really am clueless! LOL But, it sure does make my writing life a bit more interesting!

change of blog format?

Sorry for the delay in posting, but lots of things have been clogging the brain waves.

Thanks to those of you supporting my "leap of faith" regarding my writing. I have actually been working on some of my own stuff--some of which has been in mothballs for ages.

As a result, I've been contemplating a few things about my blog. I'd like to have a site where I can post my writings--sort of in a serialized form. Perhaps one day it will be a chapter from my fiction novel, another from my memoir project and even column-like articles. Is my blog an appropriate forum for this or do I need to start another site.

I already have my "professional site", where I have my resume and a few writing samples. Then, of course, is this blog, which I'm amazed I've kept up for so long (albeit not religiously). If I start another blog, it will be more more thing to add to my "to-do" list.

So, here are my questions to all of you who are much wiser:
1. Should I keep my blog as is and start a new site for my writing Works In Progress (WIPS)

2. Should I change my blog format to incorporate both things? Sort of like WIPS along with my personal blog?

3. Any other suggestion you might have...I'm at a loss at this point, I'm so confused.

A writer needs his or her work out there to be read and commented on--heck, that's why we're all here in the blogosphere (on some level). I'm not looking for pats on the back, just constructive criticism as well as some accountability. What should I do, folks?

From the "Out of the Mouths of Babes" file....

Sometimes I think I liked my kids better when they could just lie on the floor and drool all over themselves--but, then I remember the diapers, formula, baby food and all those other wonderful expenses that don't suck the last nickle out of my monthly budget anymore. Now that both my girls think they know more than me, those days seem almost "nostalgic".

Erin, the 4 year old, has become our resident one-liner/funny observation maker...Here's just a sample of her latest gems:

Last weekend as the family enjoyed a dinner out at a kid-friendly sit down restaurant, the girls were getting a litle--um--too loud for my liking. I glared sideways at Erin, immediately to my left, and muttered: "You keep this up and I'm gonna stick my foot up your butt" After 30 seconds of her patented "boo-boo face", Erin goes, "But, it's small." Huh? is the only thing that I manage to say. She just keeps on going, "Mommy, my butt is small and your foot is wayyy too big to do that."

In the parking lot of same restaurant on the same evening, the girls are sitting in the back seat of daddy's hot new wheels. Jon mentions something about needing to put the manual brake. "Is the emergency brake on," curious Erin wants to know before getting out of the car. When Jon replies yes, she gives her stamp of approval: "Good, otherwise we'd roll down the hill just like a pumpkin!" [Note: I wasn't in the car, so I missed the hysterics that supposedly ensued after this comment.

Erin holds up a beautiful yellow dress that my mom sent to her. "I want to wear this to school!" she says, jumping up and down. "No," I tell her. "It's only for special occasions." With a look like I just popped her favorite balloon, she replies ,"But, mom, I AM SPECIAL!"

Yes, you are, you little smart ass...:)

Leap of Faith

"I need you to jump off a cliff..." President Josiah Bartlett, to his then-Press Secretary, CJ Cregg, right before appointing her to be his new Chief of Staff--The West Wing

I've been standing at the edge of a cliff for quite some time, now. I've kicked some stones over the ledge and watched them fall, smashing into tiny pieces into the ravine below. That seems like a good enough reason for me to back up to safer ground. For a while, I will move back and take in the view from a safer distance. Yet, something compels me to return to the edge time and time again.

"I need you to jump off a cliff..."

When it comes to my writing, I've stayed on the safe ground for most of my career. Actually getting started in the field was a huge risk, but after that, I met with some mild success and quickly got used to that feeling and the paychecks that went along with it. Somewhere along the way, the work aspect of my writing has eclipsed my true desire for the written word. Being a working writer is something I never thought I could accomplish and once I discovered that I could earn some decent money by writing, I got wrapped up in finding more ways to turn my passion in paychecks.

Somewhere along the way, though, I sold myself out.

I can't remember the last time I've been able to sit down and truly focus on my writing work. Manuscripts sit untouched, article ideas and queries continue bang around my brain, begging for release. That's when I'd teeter on the precipice, wondering what it was really like out there. If I jumped, would I simply come crashing down or would I find a way to keep myself afloat.

Turns out I've been sinking all along; it's just been a longer descent than the typical free fall.

I like the fact that I'm working steadily, but am I really putting myself out there? challenging myself? Taking risks? Not really. There's been a lot of thought, energy, frustration and discussion about what direction I should head in next. I've gone over it in my head hundreds of time and I keep returning to the same place.

It's time to take that big step off the edge and have some faith. Accomplishment is not always measured in dollars and cents, but in the satisfaction of producing something from deep within myself that I can take pride in. There is so much that I want to (no, need to) say. Not everyone may want to read it or hear it, but I'll never know if I keep it boxed up within me. There's room for earning money doing what I love, but I need to take a chance on myself and my talent--to extend myself beyond the security blanket that my writing jobs have become. The work should enable me to invest the time and expense involved in becoming the writer I've always wanted to be, no matter what the end result.

As I look down from the cliff, I'm taking a deep breath. I have no parachute: only a vague sense of faith in myself and what I can do if I make a true commitment.

It should be a fun ride. I hope you'll join me on this new journey.

Home vs. job: Are you fighting a losing battle? - Working Mom's Guide - MSNBC.com

Home vs. job: Are you fighting a losing battle? - Working Mom's Guide - MSNBC.com **Edited to add: I have yet to comment on this piece, but plan to tomorrow, when I can form more coherent sentences than the ones I just tried to construct. Thanks to those of you who have read and commented so far!

Strike Two...

If you read my earlier post from today, you'll know that my Mommy Morale was pretty low. I felt a little better after writing about it--sort of a purging, I guess. I got back to work and, knowing that Cailyn had a half day and that at least I wasn't causing my oldest any unnecessary angst.

About two minutes before I'm supposed to leave to pick up Cailyn at school, the phone rings. I almost ignored it in my rush to get out the door, but something made me stop and check the caller id:

City of Auburn...which only means one thing: Cailyn's school. Huh? Dismissal is just moments away.

"Hello, Marie, this is Kathy Arnoldy." (Cailyn's teacher)

So much for my day improving.

It seems as though my eldest child has been causing some commotion at school--for over a week! Acting up in class, not listening, and copping a major attitude.

The not listening and acting up is not unusual. Acting up for Cailyn is bluring out answers in her overzealous attempt to show her teacher how much she knows. It doesn't excuse her behavior, but it does explain it, and Kathy has always been very understanding and patient with Cailyn. I guess the addition of the attitude pushed things over the edge, and it has carried over to other classes like art.

So, I listened on the phone as Kathy described what's been going on--and she told me that Cailyn was standing right there so she could hear it--Cailyn was supposed to talk with me about what was going on in school. Based on the fact that I sounded shocked at this news, Kathy quickly figured out that I didn't get that update. I told her I'd be right down. When I picked Cailyn up, I set up a time for a conference with Kathy tomorrow morning.

I brought Cailyn home--she knew that we were due for a chat. After I cancelled a work appointment, we sat down.

She didn't seem very willing at first to tell me what was up her butt. At first, she talked about boys bothering her at school, but that sounded kind of lame to me...

In the end, she tearfully tells me that she's upset that I'm too busy with work to come volunteer anymore in her class.

Oh, my aching head....

During the fall, when business was very slow for me, I spent a lot of time in Cailyn's classroom. Ironically, I didn't work much with Cailyn while I was there, but it appears that my presence was what was appreciated the most. Since business has gotten crazy, I haven't been in her room for almost two months.

"You're too busy and I don't think you care anymore.." she cried.

I cried--again.

We had a long talk. I agreed that I would find time in my schedule to come in a few times a month, and she would work on her behavior and telling me when something is bugging her. I assured her that I love her very much, and that she's one of the most important things in my life.

I left teaching to spend more time with my kids. I reminded her of that, and the fact that I've never been a parent of an 8 year old girl. I said, "Sometimes I forget that just because you're a big kid, you still need me. I'm trying to balance giving you some independence and space with being there when you need me...I guess I still have a lot left to learn. I hope you'll help me out."

Cailyn also shared that she's pretty bored with the work she's doing in class, which again, comes as no big surprise. I've been waiting for the time when this would become a major problem in class. The dilemma is that Cailyn is ready for gifted work, but because she is acting out, there is some hesitation in putting her in a gifted classroom. I understand the dilemma, as a teacher. But, as a parent, I need to make sure that Cailyn's needs are being met, too. So, after Cailyn apologizes for her behavior during our conference, I'll talk with Kathy about the work issue.

All I can wonder now is, What Next??

I'm not sure I want to know that...at least not today.

Regretting Forgetting

From the file of things I do that will never earn me a Mother of the Year award...

Each morning, I drop Erin off at preschool. Fortunately, it is not a harrowing experience, as it can be for many parents. Still, Erin has been going through a bout of separation/transition anxiety lately. Every goodbye lasts longer so she can get "one last hug and kiss". Last week, she started going to one of the windows in the preschool and waving to me as I go to the car. Awwww...

Well, everything has been crazy lately. Work has me slammed against a wall right now (long story, will share in another post). Then, of course, there was Jon's car saga from last week, so my brain is still a bit, how shall I say it? Scattered.

This morning, one my friends dropped her son off to school. I haven't seen in her a while and it was so good catching up. We chatted about a baby shower we're going to on Saturday as well as making plans for Erin and I to get together with her and her son next Tuesday (Erin is moving down to three days a week at preschool--gotta pay for that new car somehow. ;)) Anyway, I stood there chatting away and after about 10 or 15 minutes, I got in the car to leave. I got to the end of the parking lot and there it was...

The window...

Oh God...I forgot to turn to the window when I walked into the parking lot and started talking to my friend.

Erin had been waiting...

This wouldn't be so bad except for the fact that earlier this week, I was in a rush to get to an appointment and I got about halfway to the car before remembering to wave. Fortunately, I caught her while she was still there. I could hear her crying through the window as I ran up to her. I don't know how many times I said I was sorry. I managed to console her and went on to the rest of the day...

Today, though. She was gone. All I had in my mind was the image of her at the window, seeing me chatting and me not waving back.

I swung the car back into the parking lot and ran inside. I had to apologize.

When I walked into the room, one of the teacher aides looked a little surprised at first to see me, but then I got a knowing glance. "She's not here. She went to tumblebus."

"Is she ok?" I managed to get out.

"She was upset", the aide said, "but she stayed with me."

Floor, please open up and swallow me right now, I prayed silently.

Erin's teacher, Donna, assured me that she was fine. I just stood in the room, feeling like the worst mother in the world. I couldn't move and couldn't say anything.

Donna asked me if I wanted to leave Erin a note that Donna would read to her when she got back from her gym class. I mumbled something and shook my head. She gave me a piece of paper and a pencil and I sat down to write. What the hell do I say?

Through silent tears, I managed some lame ass apology for forgetting her. I told her how much I loved her and that I would pick her up early today. It felt so pointless.

I gave the note to Donna, doing the best I could to keep it together. Donna assured me that Erin was fine, and would be fine. "You wave to her all the time, Marie. Don't worry about it." She was right.

But, it was little consolation for the blown opportunity today.

I left the preschool and stood near the bus where Erin was having her class. I wanted to climb on board, scoop her up and tell her how sorry I was. I heard the kids laughing and playing and decided it was better to leave things alone and let her get on with her day and enjoy herself.

As for me, I cried all the way home.

It's a moment that she'll eventually forget, but I'm sure that I won't. The thought that I made my little girl cry like that...well...just...there are no words.

Only regrets.

A do nothing kinda day

Today was one of those days that I know is sometimes necessary, but I still have some reservations about.

We didn't do a hell of a lot.

Ordinarily, our weekends are full of things to do, whether it's around the house or family outings. Our weekdays are crazy and, most weeks, the weekends aren't much better.

This weekend started out like most others. Our girls have been pretty good about not barging into our bedroom much before 8am. They'll just go into the living room and watch TV for a little bit, run around the house, scream and yell or whatever--I guess they forget that sound carries. But, at least they aren't pounding on the door at 7am.

By 8am, though, they usually come in and remind us that they need to eat, because apparently we starve them by not feeding them the moment they wake up. As I lay in bed this morning, willing myself to get a move on, Cailyn asks if she and Erin can paint. I hesitate, but in my half-conscious state, I agree, warning them to be careful and only to paint in the dining room. They promised they would. I have a plastic tablecloth on the table, so I knew they couldn't do too much damage.

About 10 minutes later, I'm downstairs and the dining room looks fine. As I head into the kitchen and ask the girls what they want for breakfast, I see it--red paint. It's all over my sink and the dishes in it, the backsplash, part of the counter. If I didn't know better, I'd swear that there had been some sort of sacrificial rite in my kitchen. The actual explanation made less sense then that, though:

"I needed to wash my brush," Cailyn explained.

That was the start of the day. I cleaned up the kitchen and then touched upon Cailyn's room (after debating with her about what cleaning it up really means).

After that, I decided I was done with chores for the day.

Things have been very busy lately, so I guess yesterday and today were sorta recharge days. Yesterday I screwed around with my blog. Today was my crochet--I'm trying to finish a baby gift for a friend of mine who may be having her first one any day now (say a prayer for her and her family, if you would. It's a long story, but believe me when I say prayers would be much appreciated). I started a sweater months ago; it was in a moment of insanity. I got to the armholes and realized I was out of my league. Instead, I'm working on a hooded blanket. I also have a couple hats made and need to do a couple of pair of socks. The baby shower is a week from today. I'm sure that it won't all be finished, but I can at least bring pictures of what I have done and bring along my other gift: diapers. I know, it doesn't sound like the best shower gift in the world, but as a mom, I can tell you that diapers are something that can always be used and they ain't cheap. I always buy a couple of large bundles in variuos sizes, so that mom and baby will have some for a while.

As for tomorrow, it's my birthday. The big 3-5. I'll reflect on that tomorrow, since it doesn't seem right to do it beforehand. I will say that it's not something I'm dreading. Jon and I have plans to go out, which we desperately need to do. Nothing fancy, but we should have a good time. And, that's what really matters. We haven't had alone time in a long while. I hope we remember what to say to each other ;)

Do-nothing days like today and yesterday are great, but I always feel a little bad: there are so many other things I could be accomplishing. There are just some times, though, that the brain says, "Nah, not thinking today..."

And, I decided not to fight it. That's what Mondays are for.

New Look

Seems like a lot of my blogging friends are changing things up, so in the interest of jumping on the bandwagon, I'm starting to renovate. Thoughts? Ideas of what to add, etc? Have a great weekend!

Our new arrival

It's been a long time coming, but we finally added a new member to the family.
We are proud to announce the new arrival of the Rossiter family. She's a definite beauty, although I realize that we are a biased. But, she's shiny, a metallic grey, new and all ours--actually, she's technically Jon's, so I'm not financially responsible for her, although I'm sure I'll wind up writing the checks each month LOL. Anyway, here's a photo:
NOT THE ACTUAL CAR--that photo is coming soon; it's dark out, after all!!!

Told ya that she's purty...hee hee She's a 2006 Saturn Ion 2

I gotta give Jon credit: he ran the last Saturn he owned into the ground, almost literally. His car was 13 years old and he fought tooth and nail to keep her around as long as possible. However, the clutch finally gave and the only way he could shift the car was doing a modified Flintstones routine of rolling the car, getting up or down to a certain speed and yanking the stick shift into the proper gear.

Unfortunately, we don't live near a Saturn dealer; the closest is about 30 miles away. So, we convoyed down to Westbrook, me following him to make sure his car just didn't keel over on the Turnpike. As soon as we turned into the dealer lot, our beloved Saturn gasped her last breath.

We had the girls with us, because I knew it would take a while to get things done down there. I love Jon, but he's not the most decisive person in the world. He also has some sort of disorder where is not able to estimate time very well. "Itlll only take about two hours," he claimed. I'm not sure what the precise conversion is between real time and his time (which I joke is EET: Electrical Engineering Time), but after being married to this wonderful man for almost 10 years, I know that it's about a 2:1 ratio.

Time of arrival: 12:30pm. Time of departure: 4:00pm.

That's right, folks. I hit the nail on the head.

To be fair, it wasn't entirely Jon's fault that there was such a delay. There is all the paperwork, getting the car prepped (I swear, I didn't know that they had to wash, wax, clean a brand new car that only has 6 miles on it!), there was a little thing with a seal that had to be fixed, which then led to another one being replaced, etc.

Still, it was worth it. The car is a winner. I sat in it for about 5 minutes right before we left and I had to drive my car back to Auburn. The girls, of course, dropped me and my "old" car like a hot potato. At one time, my car was "sooo cool". But, no sooner than the ink dried on the agreement, Cailyn cried, "I'm riding in the new car!!!" I should have felt rejected--yeah, I wasn't really. Maybe now my Grand Am can go back to being "my baby" and not Kiddie Central all the time. Again, in the interest of fairness, I do give Jon credit for allowing the kids in the car, period. Hell, on the way down to the dealership, Erin had to eat her lunch, since we picked her up before her lunch time at preschool.

Let me give you a little hint: Chef Boyardee Ravioli in a thermos and the back seat of a car--not the best combination.

But, it was my car, so it was all ok. I'm sure that the people at Jon's office didn't hear my little monologue of obsenities as I bolted out of the car, in the plant parking lot, and wipe up the browish-red mess that quickly oozed onto my seat. I'm not even sure what I did wipe it up with, so I guess I should go back there and take a peek before too long.

Food will be banned from Jon's car, I'm sure. Never let it be said that I don't teach my family valuable lessons.

All in all, like any new addition to a family, there was a little pushing, a little screaming, a lot of waiting and it was all worth it in the end.

Two Dollars and Dream...

I've never watched "It Could Happen to You" from beginning to end. All I know is that a cop from New York splits a lottery ticket with a broke diner waitress as a tip. Of course, in true fairy tale fashion, they hit the jackpot, fall in love and live happily ever. The movie was based on a true story, which I vaguely recall reading about in the New York Daily News when I was younger.

The odds of winning the lottery are extremely long, but it's not impossible. One person in Nebraska won last night's $365 million dollar Powerball jackpot--so, there's proof that it does happen to someone.

Unfortunately, that someone isn't me.

Does that make me a sore loser? I doubt it, because if it does, then there are millions just like me around the country this morning. Misery loves company. That should help all of us feel a better.

Yeah, not exactly.

I don't consider myself greedy. I've told Jon that I didn't have to win the big one. I would be quite content with winning a few thousand dollars by matching only a couple of numbers. So far, the closest I've come is matching one and the Powerball. Not exactly a play that would make me a wealthy woman, but I did get $15 out of the deal.
$15 dollars compared to a couple of thousand or hundreds of millions. Sort of pales by comparison. At least I can say I've won the lottery, though.

I don't play the lottery often. Usually, common sense and reason tell me that dropping a couple of bucks on a slip of paper isn't a sound investment. Yet, every time the money gets big, I head down to the Irving station and pick up my two tickets (and yes, I know that two tickets make not even the slightest statistical difference when it comes to hitting the big one).

I understand that I am fortunate to have what I do: I'm not broke, I have a nice home, a great family and a job that I enjoy. Winning the lottery wouldn't change most of that. I wouldn't ditch Jon and the kids, I'd still write and as for my home...ok, I might change that. Everyone has a dream home. Mine wouldn't be one of these places that could fit two houses in--I'm not greedy. All I want is my washer and dryer out of the basement.

Is that a lot to ask? I don't think so.

But, for now, my dream home will remain that. Dreams are good. They give us something to strive for, a goal to reach. I'm sure this loss will be me a better, more productive member of society.

And, just to prove that I'm not a sore loser, I offer the following good wishes to the Nebraskan who now has more money than can be spent in a lifetime:

Congratulations! Enjoy your money!

Oh, and if you need someone to write your life story, I'm available...

For a small fee, of course.

Sick....and tired

In his classic performance "Himself", Bill Cosby makes the following statement:

You know, one day mother started into it. She said, "You make me sick." "And tired," I finished. [long pause while the audience laughs] I don't remember anything that happened that day

Word to that...well, all except for the thing about saying that to my mom (I valued my life). Sick and Tired just seem to go together like PB&J, Spaghetti and Meatballs--you get the idea. I'm pretty sure that most people get sick because they are tired (read: exhausted) and that's when the germs get ya, as soon as the body says, "Yeah, I could use a little rest." How about a rest without feeling like my head is in a vice, my breathing whistling an off key tune and my voice sounding like Rocky after he's gone one too many rounds with Apollo, Mr. T or that Russian guy in Rocky IV (right? I stopped caring after Rocky II, really) Today in our lovely home, Mommy and Daddy are sick and tired. We both have colds miserable little things. A cold is great if you want the sensation of being underwater or trapped in some sort of transparent box with minimal air. Not exactly a great combination. The worst thing about them is that there's nothing you can do but wait the damn thing out. And, since I'm tired, it will probably take me a few days to shake this thing. If I wanted a vacation, I'd go to Bermuda or Jamaica or somewhere tropical. I don't need by body shutting down on me to impose a mandatory break time. It sort of takes away from the whole relaxation concept. I don't know about you, but when I try to relax when I'm sick, it just isn't very...well...relaxing. I ache, I cough, my head aches. It doesn't do much for me, but I'm funny that way. Of course, I always get sick when something big happens. Right now, its crunch time for me with work and I stil have't managed to find the the girls' off switch, so I keep plugging on. That's what moms (and most dads) do. So, after a day of hell at work, I'm realy to turn in by 8:30. I know, I know!! My life is so exciing. Hopefully all the juice, extra rest and yes, even yucky medicine, wil help alleviate some of these sucky symptoms. Have a good night. M.

My Hometown

Recently, I had an assignment for a new client about the construction boom in the Lewiston/Auburn area. For those that don't live around here, I have to say that the LA area (yes, we call it that---oh, aren't we so cheeky?) is growing by leaps and bounds. When we moved here in 1998, Auburn was a nice little community and Lewiston, well...not so much. A local comedian joked once that people in Lewiston used to go to the Longley bridge, which is the "border" between the cities, look across the water and go, "Someday....someday we'll make it there." Heh.
However, over the past few years, Lewiston has picked itself up, dusted itself off and is really starting to get its shit together. Oh, there will always been that two block stretch on Lisbon Street that houses about 1/2 dozen sleazy bars and a number of "adult" shops (Maine's lame attempt at a red light district), but new businesses are popping up all over, new restaurants, stores, etc.
The same goes for Auburn. We're getting a LongHorn SteakHouse and Ruby Tuesdays! Although, personally, I'd much rather have the Olive Garden that was rumored to be coming in. Homes that make my humble dwelling look like a garage have made an appearance just up the road from here. Jon and I both wonder where the hell these people work, since Jon works at one of the more established and well paying companies in the area and there ain't no way we're ever affording a house like the ones being built around us. See, we have this habit of wanting to put food on the table--silly us.
Anyway, I digress...this assignment required some pictures, so I thought I'd post a few.
From the top of Goff Hill, which on a snowy day, people rarely need a car...just a good nudge and one slide could probably make it into Lewiston. This is right up the road from my house. You're looking at part of downtown Auburn and, in the distance, Lewiston. The big church in the background is St. Peter and St. Paul's Basilica--yes, we're moving up in the world--at least according to the Catholic Church!

The newly renovated Lewiston Public Library is less than two blocks from the aforementioned "redlight district". However, this facility is gorgeous now...it was a decent library to begin with, but now, it's truly high tech and a great place to spend some time.
Great Falls, which flows under the Longley bridge between Lewiston and Auburn. I took a few shots of these early in my photography experience. I shot this one with one of my new lenses. I really like the shot, even though there is some blur around the edges. The new lenses are wonderful, but I need a lot more practice with them. Still, I thought this one was worth posting.
I'll be taking more shots of the area and posting them as I keep working with the camera.
I joke around a lot about the L/A area. Honestly, though, I'm thrilled with where we live--most of the time. ;)
Oh, I just noticed that my one year blogiversary passed without my recognizing it. So, Happy 1st to me!!!! And, thanks Heidi, for getting me started!
And, oh yes...Happy Valentine's Day to all of you! Almost forgot....lol

Family planning and the olympics

Now that you've read the touching tributes to my darling daughters, I can now vent a little about the fact that their birthdays are separated by one day.

"Wow! How neat!," I hear often when the girls' birthdays come up and people realize how close they are. "Did you plan it that way?"

Sure, I waited all year long until the appointed day on the calendar that I carefully figured out would produce a baby on February 7th and February 8th, turned to my husband, grabbed him and said, "Come on hot stuff, we have to make a baby NOW, so our kids can have almost the same birthday!!" Not that he would mind me grabbing him at any time for any reason, but there was no plan to have two girls back to back like that (granted, they are separated by 4 years). That matters little when the first full week of February rolls around, though.

The closest thing I had to any kind of plan about child birth was that there was no way I was going to be in the last trimester of pregnancy in the dog days of summer. Being that preggo sucks no matter what time of year it is, but there was no way in hell that I was going to have a bun in the oven while it was 90+ degrees outside. So, when it came to the time where we tossed caution to the wind and said, "Sure, let's have some kids", the caution was only thrown as far as April to August. Naturally, that didn't mean that we couldn't practice during our "down time", but the plan was to hang the "NO WOMB FOR RENT" for 1/2 the year...

Turns out, we didn't need any kind of planning. Apparently, we practiced so much before trying to conceive that we got it right almost the first shot out of the gate (pardon the bad pun, there). All Jon needed to do was look at me, it seemed, and I got pregnant. We did endure the loss of two children, and that's a subject for another post--not because it's too hard to talk about, but I don't like focusing on what I don't have, especially around the girls' birthdays...So, we were incredbily skilled/lucky when it came to getting pregnant. It just seemed that one time of year was better for us than the rest.

I think something my "nephew", Kyle, said when we announced the joyous news of our second pregnancy sums it all up pretty well. When we told his family, who was having dinner with us that evening, that the 2nd baby Rossiter was due at the end of February, Kyle's mom, Sue, was incredulous. "Wow! You guys must really like February! First Cailyn's birthday, and now another one the same month!" As I raised my fork to put the next mouthful of food to my lips, then 14-year-old Kyle says, without missing a beat, "Seems to me that they like May even more..."

Ah, out of the mouths of babes....That was the funniest thing I heard in ages, and although his mom was slightly embarrassed, I think, I could do nothing but agree with the young man. He's always been a smart one.

Must have been something in the May spring air for Jon and me...
Either way, there are times that I think that having the girls' birthdays so close was piss poor planning. The week of their birthdays is hell, and now that both are having parties, well, it isn't going to get any easier as time goes on. But, for now, we lump the girls parties as close together as we can, just so we can get through the insanity a little faster.

This week has been filled with last minute calls from parents (who had two weeks to RSVP, btw), exploding ice cream cone cupcakes and a small fire in my kitchen (the anti-Martha rides again), trips to two classrooms in two days and getting ready for two parties this weekend. Work? Forget it. Sleep? Not much. There's still lots to do before we get through the weekend, but somehow it will happen.

And, in the end, the kids will love it, no matter how it turns out--because, remarkably, it turns out that, for them, it is the thought that counts, even though they can't wait to open presents and stuff their faces with cake. Their excitement is contagious...I just wish I had their energy to maintain that excitement for 7 days, as they have. LOL

Oh, another odd coincidence about Cailyn and Erin's birthdays? They are both winter olympic babies--on the night each of them was born, the winter olympics held their opening ceremonies--Nagano, Japan in 1998 and Salt Lake City, Utah in 2002. While all these people stood out in the freezing cold, getting ready to have their greatest moment...twice I held the product of my physical endurance and labors...Skiing?? HA! I just delivered a baby! And, I'll be damned if I didn't get a medal....what a jip! ;)

But, after two babies, I think we've finally got the family planning thing down now. In two days, as the winter olympics in Torino opens, there will be no deja vu this time...We made our family plan long ago: we officially removed ourselves from the gene pool after Erin was born and that's a plan that we can count on (I HOPE!!). After all, keeping up with two girls should qualify as an olympic sport.

Hell, if curling still counts, shouldn't raising two daughters???

Happy 4th Birthday Erin!

This shows you how much Mommy loves you, Erin. I'm posting this picture of us because it's so clear to see how happy I was that you came into our lives. You entered the world the way you live life today--hard and fast. Always following in your big sis' footsteps, you made your debut the day after Cailyn's birthday, proving that Big Sis is "always right". Oh, you waited around for a while--20+ hours to be exact from when we entered the hospital. But, when you decided it was time, less than 5 minutes and two pushes later, you came screaming into the world (with a little bruiser eye to prove it). You've been a fighter since Day One, Miss E. You proved to be more of a challenge than Sissy your first year: horrible gas, ear infections, not settling as well into day care...There were days that I was unsure I was doing all I could to take care of you. But, again, you were a fighter and by the time your first birthday rolled around, you were into everything: always ready to explore. All of us thought that you were the fastest crawler ever. Who needs walking when you can zip around the house safely on all fours?! Still, chasing after Cailyn got you up and running soon enough! I know that parents aren't supposed to label their children, but raising kids isn't always about "shoulds and shouldn't" according to some expert. You, dear Erin, are ruled by emotion (yes, you are truly Mommy's girl." You feel things to the core. You have an incredible capacity for empathy, an appreciation for beauty and a low tolerance for injustice (especially when it comes to when I say 'No!' lol). If eyes are windows to the soul, yours are wide open. That's the first thing most people notice about you: your gorgeous blue eyes. They sparkle when you're happy, flash when you're mad and twinkle when you're up to no good. What I love most about you is your flexibility and the fact that you are sometimes a paradox: you love dressing up like a girly princess, but have no problem growling like a dragon at the same time. You fully embrace your entire personality, on both sides of the spectrum. This can be challenging to us, because it's hard to keep up with who you are or what you're feeling at any given time, but there's no doubt that things are never boring... No one could ever have convinced me four years ago that one tiny (ok, not so tiny) baby could complete me. From the moment I first held you to today, when I have to run in order to keep up with you, you have been one of God's greatest gifts to me. You are still my baby, even though you're growing up right before my eyes. And, fortunately, you still don't mind so much having that role in my life. One day soon, that will change, I know. But, for now, I'm just so happy that we have such a special connection. Thank you for bringing humor, love and joy to our lives. And, just as I said to your sister, thanks for choosing me to be your Mommy!

Happy 8th Birthday Cailyn!

Eight years ago, you came to us on an unusually bright, warm February afternoon...You certainly took your time getting here, but after 3 1/2 hours of struggle, you came into the world pink and round and perfect--all 9 pounds, 4 ounces of you! Even then, we had trouble finding clothes that fit you right! LOL Your first year was full of changes--moving from Ohio to Maine, learning to crawl, walk and talk, all before you hit 12 months! You've always kept me on my toes and amazed me with the things you could do, even when people didn't think it was possible. Even as a toddler, you had personality--plus! There were times that it seemed we had a little person as opposed to a child. You had this way of relating to people that went beyond your years. Yet, in spite of your early maturity, there's always been that touch of mischief within you... Four years and one day after we were blessed with you, we gave you the baby sister you wanted so much. You knew, before anyone, that Erin would come into our lives and that she would arrive just in time to be "the best birthday present ever!" I'm not sure who was more proud: Mommy and Daddy or you. I did discover that in spite of my fears of not having enough love to go around for two children, I somehow loved you even more after Erin came along--and had plenty to give to little sis, too! While you are mostly a "Daddy's girl", you and I share so much in common, too. You have a flair for the dramatic--both on and off the stage. Entertaining people brings you joy, and you also have a gift of the written word, too. Whether it's on the stage or in everyday life, you simply love to announce your presence to the world. Sometimes, I come down a little too hard on you about this: thinking that you're being a show off. But, in all honesty, I'm amazed at how comfortable you are in your own skin. You just keep teaching me about what it means to be real. You always have a smile for everyone. So many people say what a happy child you are. Your smile reminds me that even though I don't always act like the greatest mom, I must be doing something ok for you to be so self-assured and happy. I notice that I smile more when I'm around you, too. Although there are many times that I wish I could stop time in its tracks and keep you young and away from so many of the things that you will face as you grow up, I know that I can't. And, deep down, I guess I don't want to. Yes, I get scared at what challenges lie ahead, the fights we'll go through about clothes, boys, cars, etc. But, in the end, I'm just too fascinated by the young lady you're becoming to hold you back. There are still too many lessons for both of us to learn, and for that reason, I can't wait to see you grow up! Happy Birthday Cailyn! I love you so much and couldn't be more proud to be your Mommy. And, I thank you for choosing me to bring you into the world.

Say It Sunday #3 (sorta...)

Roller Boogie Baby!!!!

Say It Sunday #2

Of Swears, Shows and Spring...

We're experiencing technical difficulties....

Ok, so Blogger sux--we all know we feel that way, at least from time to time. For some mysterious reason, no one can comment on my audio post. I have yet to figure out the cause. If I had some of that annoying Muzak that stations play when they go into standby mode, I'd play it--so instead, you're gonna have to hum a tune of your choice... If you wanted to comment on my last post and couldn't, feel free to drop me a comment here... We now take you back to your regularly scheduled program, already in progress....