The Good, the Bad + the Ugly

I can elaborate a little now. I've taken a deep breath. Punch is off to fifth grade, though with the heat advisory, the Montclair schools have early dismissal. So instead of stepping off her schoolbus at about 4 p.m., it will be 2:30 p.m.

GOOD

Trish McEvoy eye shadow stick. LINK here.

1. I got up early enough to iron [! I never iron] Punchy's blue and white striped cotton shirt, take a shower and apply makeup. Her shirt looked nice and crisp.
2. I felt modern and chic rolling my new Trish McEvoy 24-Hour Eye Shadow and Liner [a creamy stick] over my eyelids. I bought it at the little Trish boutique on Jobs Lane in Southampton on my day trip. Tina [sp] at Trish suggested Crystal Heather, a smoky, grayish green. Using it takes me back to my day in the Hamptons, to foamy waves and swaying sea grass.
3. I am sitting at Joyist [formerly Juice Culture], doing my work in streamlined, air-conditioned comfort. At 2 p.m., I will switch out of my slingback heels and back into fitness flip-flops to walk to the corner where Punchy's bus drops off.
4. Important personal writing.
5. I had the Greg, my favorite Joyist blend, made with Java Love coffee, unsweetened PB, raw cacao, etc. And I got it free [vs. $11], because it was my 10th punch on my rewards card!
6. Sis is going to Cuba in October, leaving from Miami, and invited me as her guest for Oct. 27 to Oct. 30! Flight booked, car rented. I have a generous sister. We should have fun in and around Miami. I would like to visit my friend since kindergarten, Fritch, who retired to Florida, but it is a 3++ hour drive to her area. Maybe we can meet partway, not sure.
7. Drinking cucumber water here.
8. Wearing a black Diane Von Furstenberg peplum skirt and black sleeveless top, which I bought several years ago at Bergdorf's. The designer appeared that weeknight to sign books, but I arrived late, coming from NJ. So I missed meeting her, but this outfit is one of my best fashion investments.
9. Put earrings on. It has been so beastly hot that even earrings felt like too much to wear. Love these ice-blue Ippolita sterling silver stud earrings Dan gave me on that snowy Christmas morning in Maine last year. [I flagged them on a wish list at the local jewelry store, me being me.]
10. I rescheduled blood work, physical appointment [so I can get mammogram Rx], made a date for pedicure and brow tint. Getting hair cut Tuesday for first time in months.
11. Hauled out some extra trash last night.
12. Doing this writing, to process life and keep things in perspective.

BAD

1. Going to appointment at pulmunologist tomorrow for CPAP machine checkup. I still hate that scary contraption. Ugh. Not a glamorous date.
2. Dan is assembling a dresser he ordered from Stork for Punchy's bedroom. The other pink one fell apart and I put it out for bulky waste pickup. But he was doing this after 9 p.m., balancing it on her bed, when it was her bedtime on the night before first day of school. I was not a happy camper. At all. His last-minute habits are wearing on me. I know it's great that he ordered and is assembling the dresser, but....

UGLY

1. Dan and I had a fight Tuesday...in front of Punch and my sitter/friend, Elaine. It was about Punch refusing to sit down and work on her summer packet for just 20 minutes...in that ungodly heat. She ran out the front or back door, got on her bike, etc. It was a mess. At my Private Benjamin appointment, my therapist gave me very good advice. Have her do just 10 minutes, tell her when that will be ahead of time, etc. etc. I did that yesterday and it was successful. He helped me see that kids with ADHD and childhood trauma are not being defiant--they can't do it, rather than won't do it. For the won't do part--she would lose the play date with friend. But the can't do part--that part I understood better and was happy when she mastered 3 division problems. 
2. Anger is ugly. Resentment is ugly. Pain is mostly ugly. 
3. I haven't planned my foods well and have been haphazardly grabbing sweets, not good. Punch had a therapy appt. and then gymnastics team practice from 6 to 8 p.m. yesterday. I did get us both a healthy Joyist snack before gymnastics, and also dropped one off to Figgy, who was working across the street at Montclair Stationery. [I got them each a half-size PB + Joy bowl, with granola, fruit and bee pollen.] But then on the way home from practice, Punch wanted Taco Bell. Mistakes were made. I did make us sit and eat inside rather than in the car. The soft taco seemed fine, with meat, cheese, tomatoes, lettuce etc....but the Nacho Cheese Doritos Locos Tacos were probably not a good idea. And then the killer was the four Cinnabon Delights Punch wanted to take in her lunchbox today. She ate one of the warm, doughy balls, filled with that white Cinnabon frosting. "It's too sweet," she said. "I don't want them." So guess who ate the other 3 instead of throwing them out?
4. I noticed the words "senior discount" on the Taco Bell receipt--and a 50 cents saving for that. Great, just what I needed. I was happy to save the money but not to feel old.

I have to get back to work now. I hope you have a good day.

Good, Bad, Ugly

Mistakes were made today. Big mistakes.

Some things are changing, good and bad, and I have been eating without bounds. It's as though since parts of my life are galloping like a wild horse into uncharted territory, my food choices will follow. [Some shifts: Figgy's changing course with college and work; Punch having her first sleepover tonight with birth family, after 2 years; I plan to job hunt again in early fall, after completing Anthony's book; finances in flux; etc. etc.]

It's tricky. Take a look at this rogue day.

GOOD

1. Some scrambled egg with our garden basil and tomato, made by Punch.

2. A lobster roll from Gus & Co. Seafood on Valley Road. Very good.

3. Even though Little Daisy Bake Shop is a few doors up from #2 and Sweet Home Montclair is across the street, I didn't go in for a rich brownie or chocolate malt balls. But I really did want to.

4. Stared down sour gummy candy on summer sale at Williams-Sonoma.

5. Pasta and meatballs for dinner, not too much.

6. Controlled portion of excellent dark chocolate-covered almonds--individual 270-calorie bag from CVS.

7. When offered free drink at hair salon, chose large ice water, not iced coffee with a lot of sweet creamer.

BAD

1. Bought sliced Jarlsberg Lite to be healthy but then ate A LOT of it on A LOT of pretzel crackers.

2. Followed up by big bowl of Kind peanut butter granola with some Divine dark chocolate in it, and organic 2 percent milk.

3. Plus small mason jar glass of that milk. I do love a nice cold glass of milk.

UGLY

1. Figgy gave me some healthy eating ideas, since "I don't want you to die before you're 60." We agreed that moderate portions of nuts are good snacks. But I bought a small can of deluxe jumbo salted cashews and ate uncontrollably while on hold to pay health insurance bill. Lessons: Don't buy foods you can't seem to portion out and do have a big glass of ice water nearby when making a dreaded call. [I just had better things to do with my time.]

2. Punchy's leftover KitKat bar was in the freezer. No way. I ate it. 

3. Then I rummaged through the cabinet and ate a little pack of organic vanilla graham crackers that her Mimi sent home with her.

Gotta go. Tomorrow is another day and I plan to make healthier choices. Feel bad because Fig was just urging me to take care of myself. Beyond that, I felt sluggish and super large. Like my belly was leading the way, arriving places before I was. Oy. I want to remember that it feels good to make good food and drink choices. Good night.

Advice from you, my friends, would be welcome. Do you give into cravings? If I had gotten the rich bakery brownie, might I have sidestepped the Jarlsberg/cashew/KitKat/granola/mason jar of milk frenzy at home? Did I feel deprived and so then overindulged?

TCOY

1. Boot camp. Hit 11,736 fitbit steps today.

2. Walked Sug around block.

3. Gardened.

4. Salon blowout.

Good, Bad, Ugly: Snow Day

Good

1. Punch and I hand-quilted, sewed and stuffed a little pillow [above]. I taught her how to thread a needle and sew by hand. The pillow is a bit lopsided and lumpy, but still cute. We're proud of it. Punch wants to set up a business selling them. I'd like to join a quilting bee or sewing circle. I think there's one nearby at a sewing store. The chance to sit and craft with others is appealing.

2. Made mushroom soup and big baked yams. Also a ricotta cheesecake. Ate some fresh orange.

3. Nap by the fire while Punch played at her friends' house. Thankful to the mom of those friends.

Bad

1. Between Punch being home sick yesterday and the snow day today, I have lost two work days. I feel bad about this.

2. Stress and worries.

Ugly

1. We've spent $353 to repair our Bosch dishwasher. This has been going on since Christmas. Several appliance repair visits, new electronic parts, lots of washing by hand. I'm pretty done with this. It was finally running yesterday when repairman Kenny was here and now it's not. It was ugly.

Good night.

The Truth Hurts

That's all. It's true. Sometimes the truth is beautiful and clear and freeing, and sometimes, it really hurts. Two sides of a coin. Shiny copper on one side, gummed-up Trident on the other. A stunning, silky Breck blonde from the back, but when she turns around, her face doesn't match the hair. A flowery name like Lily or Daisy but a biting personality. A venus fly trap that looks like a houseplant but devours unsuspecting flies. My college boyfriend had one of those--he was a horticulture major.

Sometimes, the truth hurts and all you can do is sit with it. Look it in the eye. Accept it.

Good night.

TCOY

1. Picked up Rx so can get routine [but overdue] mammogram tomorrow.
2. Veggie burger with avocado on whole wheat roll.
3. Private Benjamin.
4. Tomorrow I plan to be on the ball more.

The Good, the Bad & the Ugly

Good

1. Figgy's recent artwork, including the fashion design of a frothy gown and the drawing of her friend Emma.
2. Bought six forest-green candles for a nice price--promise of candlelight to come.
3. I ate a clementine. I peeled one for Punch, who was visiting today, and it smelled intoxicating. Nice and sweet.
4. Somebody found my little kelly green Kate Spade purse and brought it to the courtesy desk. I left it in the grocery cart in my haste to jump in the car and get to CVS for my Rx. Thank goodness for honest people.
5. H. and Punch planted tulip bulbs. She said they looked like mushrooms. H. was wearing his leather jacket and Punch was wearing my L.L. Bean fleece. They looked cute. I was reminded of him in his old leather jacket, walking me to Penn Station on our first date. I peeked at them through the kitchen window.
6. We had dinner @ Moey's house.
   

Bad

1. Missed church today. Just couldn't swing it. Chose to sleep late. 
2.  I was scatterbrained and left my purse in the grocery cart after eating crappy popcorn in the car and feeling frenzied.

Ugly

1. The choice to eat that popcorn while driving, as though I had to grab it and stuff it in rather than feel some tough feelings about Punch's life, and my judgment of it. But--is this ugly, or strangely beautiful, this acknowledgement, even in one's rear view mirror, of a tough situation that just is?
2. Hard times for a family I love. Rocky ride. But prayers will help.

 TCOY

1. Had healthy lunch.
2. Threw rest of crappy popcorn out.
3. Was aware of being full @ dinner.
4. Reached out for support.

The Good, the Bad & the Ugly

A pair of shorts Fig made. I think her friend Laura is modeling them.

 Good

1. Today was H.'s 55th birthday, and I made him the French apple tarts I first baked for him when we were dating. They're his and now Figgy's favorites--even over a devil's food cake, which I simply cannot fathom. Give me a fork and a wedge of devil's food any time over something made with an ingredient as wholesome as fruit. That's the sad truth.
2. We can finally pay some big bills--after months, things moving along with H.'s book contract. Huge relief.
3. It was a beautiful day and I rode my pink bike with basket to our appointment.
4. Figgy sold a shirt in her Etsy shop--a sale that she has to pack up and mail from the post office. In person, she has also sold a pair of shorts to one friend and shirts to two others. Here are links to the POST I wrote about it in July, and to the SHOP, just for eye candy.

Bad 

1. I ate a 300-calorie bag of sea salt and vinegar potato chips at lunch in the sandwich shop today. I don't like to use the term "bad" with eating, because we're all human and have to forgive our missteps, and because eating a bag of chips is not a major character flaw--but it's not ugly enough to be ugly, so it has to be in the bad category.

Ugly

1. The reality I faced in couples' therapy today--about my work, or lack of it, and the problems it has caused. And what I should do about it. Tough pill to swallow. Not sure I agree with the hard party line. Will contemplate, and try to pray for quiet answer.
2. Coincidentally or not with Ugly #1, it became evident today that we are not yet out of the woods, no siree Bob, with a health problem and its rippling effects--like when you skip a stone, and it travels far beyond the spot where it originally touched the water. [I never knew how to skip a stone, but Fig's cousin Will skillfully taught her up in Maine when they were both little, and I watched.]
   

Good night.

TCOY

1. Rode my bike.
2. Showed up @ two tough appointments. That's no small potatoes.
   

The Good, the Bad & the Ugly

Good

1. How my purple and yellow pansy basket looks out front after those rich drinks of rain.
2. Figgy went to the junior prom with a group of friends tonight! She got an updo and wore a sparkly silver dress and nude patent high-heeled pumps and real pearl post earrings that Sis and Don gave her years ago. She looked pretty but most of all, she seemed happy. I hope to post photos soon.....famous last words...I am glad she is blessed with good, nice friends. Seeing the young men and young women dressed in their best was touching.
3. New hope and love in my life--I think it was there, I just didn't see it.
4. Sis and Don drove over all the way from Connecticut to see Figgy go to the prom! That felt really special. We all took pictures with Fig and then with Figgy and her friend Olivia. Then H. and I went out to dinner with Sis and Don on Church Street. [Moey wanted to drive over too, but the traffic and timing didn't work out.] I'm glad Figgy has people who love her so much. Those are true riches.
5. The pink, yellow and peach roses on our rosebushes and the sunflowers stalks that are growing, growing, growing.
6. Work--irons in the fire, and current assignments.
7. Going to the shore for one overnight this weekend!!!!!!!!

Bad 

1. I run as slow as molasses and am doing a five-mile run on Saturday morning. That makes me kind of nervous but truth be told, I know I will have fun anyway, and I'm sure there has to be someone who will be as slow as or slower than me. So that's only half-bad.

Ugly

1. The grueling activity Patsy had us do at boot camp today. I swear she sits up all night plotting how to torture us. [She knows I love her despite it all.] You run up the stadium steps once to warm up, then do this set as many times as possible in 25 minutes: 3 runs up the steps, 1 right shuffle up steps, 1 left shuffle up steps, 8 push-ups on bar, 8 dips on bar, 10 shoulder presses with weights, 10 ball slams, 1 [quarter-mile] lap around the track.  It was ugly and I was sweaty, and my sweat pants were rolled up to my knees b/c it was so hot, but I am proud to say I did that whole set 3 times. To put that in context, my friend Heidi did the set 5 times and Diane did 6. Do you now see the caliber of fitness goddess I run with?
   

Good night.

TCOY

1. Boot camp!
2. Walked Puff around the block once.
3. Sis and I shared a pasta dish instead of ordering two.

The Good, the Bad & the Ugly

Good

1. Waffles made from whole-grain mix. 
2. A piece of palm from Palm Sunday Mass.
3. A supportive phone message.
4. Meeting Elly @ the track.
5. Figgy doing my hair and makeup and picking out my outfit--my Fig has a good eye. Says I wear the same things every day. Kind of true. Even though what she picked out for me was my high-heeled gold Coach sandals [on a rainy day] with my Gap black pants and Burberry shirt. ;) Heels got mired in mud. I really liked the way Figgy rolled up the sleeves of my blazer so the pink paisley lining showed.
6. Wine and supper with my friend Anne. We miss each other--we've both been pulled in other directions. It was so nice to catch up with my friend. So good to talk. Lovely. Anne's friendship is a nosegay of hope and love.
7. Skillet cornbread from NY Times Magazine.
8. How our spring flowers look in the drizzle.
9. "Desperate Housewives" and "Mad Men."
10. Delicate wash with Woolite.
    

Bad

1.  Missing Dad.

Ugly

1. Overeating. Too much, too soon. Must find a way to feel it, see it, skirt it, stop it. One Triscuit led to another, one granola bar led to a second. One small dish of ice cream led to a Klondike Bar. And this was all part of a late lunch at 2:30. Realize I can't let myself get overhungry because then I overcompensate. Not a nice way to treat my body and heart and lungs. I felt exhausted and disappointed in myself afterward, not nourished. Felt like a green one-eyed monster with warts. Don't want to hate myself or beat myself up. But that's how I felt. Maybe next time I won't want to feel that way, you know?
2. Fear of change. What will happen if I get better?
3. Fear of facing lifelong ally for various reasons, including anger.
4. People who never grew up. Want to shout: Go back in time! Fix it! Do over! But I am trying hard to be adult. Ugly road, full of potholes. Nails that can sink into your tires. Broken glass. No soft shoulder. Oil spills that can cause swerving.
5. Fear and uncertainty on a new path. Fear of being too hopeful, or too hopeless. Need to find balance. Fear of unknown.

Don't let this list fool you. Though Good list outweighs Ugly 3:1, I head to bed with a heavy heart. The ugly items weigh a lot and tip the scales. But listing and facing them may help a little. There they are in all their ugliness. So be it. And here Dad isn't. Good night.

The Good, the Bad & the Ugly

Good

1. Information. Information is power. At least I'm telling myself that--but I think it's true. Even when it's scary and you wish to God you never had to face it, if a problem or danger exists, I suppose it's better to know than to stumble along in total dark. I guess it gives you the chance to help. If it doesn't totally deflate you first. How can a sailboat go forth, especially in choppy waters, with no wind in its sails?
2. Ovaltine in milk.
3. A dog who adores me.
4. Dishwasher humming.
5. Knowledge that I am not alone. We are not alone.
6. President Obama's State of the Union address. I liked what he said, and was happy to welcome him, Michelle, Joe and Jill Biden, Hillary Clinton, Leon Panetta, Nancy Pelosi, the Supreme Court justices, chiefs of staff and others into my living room tonight. I also liked seeing what they were wearing. Noticed lots of pinks and fuchsias on the women in the crowd, probably to lift spirits. I plan to wear some pink tomorrow.

Bad

1. Information. Information can be devastating. Especially when it's scary and you wish to God you never had to face it. Maybe it would be better to not know and stumble along in total dark. Because can you really help?
2. No exercise today, not a drop.

Ugly

1. Had to tour a $6.9 million Bergen County estate at 11 A.M. today with owner, so I can write about it for a magazine, and I was having a very unfortunate hair and beauty day [see Bad, 1.]. The homeowner's hair and makeup were flawless, from jet-black eyeliner to fuchsia lipstick--and the home's beauty was breathtaking, too, from bamboo floors to spotless jewel-box powder room. I tried not to look when we passed the many mirrors.
2. Very pedestrian diner burger and fries, eaten by myself next to a Dad and grown daughter who were out to lunch, just like Dad and I often were in New Jersey diners after his doctor's appointments. Missed him. Cherry on top: As I chowed down on burger deluxe, she had peppermint tea and salad with pita toast points, and he had egg whites scrambled with lox [No potatoes, the Dad said to the waitress.] Also ugly: The people who seated me were unfriendly. Usually the people who show you to your diner table and give you a menu can muster up a smile. This man didn't crack a grin, and the woman with the menu was positively icy. Baffling. I guess what can you expect when part of your job is spraying plastic-coated menus with Windex to keep them clean--as the woman was doing at the counter when I left.
3. Stopped in thrift shop and it smelled depressing, like a forgotten old person's home, and the items were depressing, too. No treasures, just discards, remnants of lives gone by. A camel overcoat with a lining that was hand mended near the collar, dresses and glittery tops that once went to a wedding. Too sad to bear on a day like this.
4. Oreos, though threw package out pretty promptly before too much damage done.
5. Stress, strain, fear. Panic. Stark realities. Anxiety. Anger. Frustration. Worry. Fruitlessness, hopelessness. Helpless, powerless. Impatient. Fed up. Annoyed. Overwhelmed. Terrified. Watchful. Regretful. Resigned. Trying hard to see clearly.
6. And broken, jagged fingernails, on top of it all, as if the rest of this list isn't enough. Grrr.
   
    

Ugly Truths

This is not a post about happy pink clothing, deep chocolate desserts, orange garden flowers, a Sweet Sixteen party. There are a lot of ugly truths swirling around me. I better catch them, nail them, face them, type them, recognize them, so I can move on and do my work and live my life this busy day. As in, Okay, all of that is terrible, but I still have to keep going. They are ugly giant flies. But I can't accomplish anything if they keep buzzing around my head.

1. I look really fat in the wedding video I just viewed online. This was the Florida wedding in April. My hair looks bushy, my chin doesn't exist, and basically, I must be in denial if I think I can look good, even in pretty clothing. Cherry on top: At one point, while H. is being filmed, I'm even in the background chewing a bite of dessert. Who am I kidding? I must really not see myself the way the world does. I try to give myself some slack---Dad had been really sick and just died the month before; Figgy was going through serious problems; H. and I were dealing with the accompanying hell. How did I expect to look? Another cherry: Most other women on the tape are slender, slender--as in sculpted slender.
2. H. and I are a mess. I know, I should just speak for myself. But he's on the way to a very important meeting right now in NYC. His NY Times Magazine article sparked a lot of interest in his writing. And I feel guilty b/c we didn't have the money for him to buy a new sport coat, so he wore his old one. He had to scramble to find his old belt, and hurriedly polished his slightly worn black loafers so they shine a little. His glasses are held together with duct tape; the new pair hasn't arrived on time. [He plans to take them off before the meeting.] His ancient leather briefcase is beaten up, but I think he likes it that way. Fortunately, he does have on the nice, crisp Ralph Lauren shirt I bought him at Bloomingdale's for Father's Day. But we're just a mess. We're down to our last pairs of clean underwear, and have to do the wash. Our house is a mess, our lives are a mess, even our car is a mess. I got a ticket, just like last year, because our registration was due for renewal in July and we are late. Like I said, mess. H. promised to go to DMV weeks ago. 
3. My beauty is a mess. Hair frizzy, toenails too long, polish all chipped. Like to dress nicely even to work at my desk at home, b/c feel more professional. But yesterday, went through about seven outfits before I found one I felt good in. Oh,and those rejected outfits? In a heap in the bedroom, waiting to be respected and returned to the closet.
4. And most of all, our finances are a mess. We owe a lot of money and it's scary. It's shameful and embarrassing and dark. We work hard, but we also battle laziness, inertia, fear and depression, and we have to keep up with the IRS, personal loans, health insurance and more. At the moment, my health insurance is cancelled. None of us in this little family has ever been in that situation for more than about two days. But I'm waiting on two checks, and will reinstate soon. H.'s and Fig's policies are paid up to date.
5. Oh, and some family members told us we're a mess, too. I already named the cherry on top, so this must be the extra rainbow sprinkles. There are some outspoken people who have as much as said so. And that makes me angry and sad.

I can't keep going, can't keep listing. It's just too much. The great irony of it all is that I've been raising money for the soup kitchen in town [via the bike ride and bake sale] and I don't even have bike shorts with padding for that long ride, just my regular skorts. But I emailed Sally, who bikes, and if I can squeeze into them, am going to borrow a pair.

I thank you for being there, for reading this, for caring to read it. I really do.

TCOY

1. Showered and put on nice outfit.
2. Scrawled Chance to change for the better in the good Gratitude journal I bought on Cape Cod two summers ago.

The Other Side of Beauty

When I started this blog just about a year ago, I pledged to write truthfully about things, even when it's scary.

It's scary now, as I try to push myself in a series of Brush Strokes/Keystrokes portraits of people. The first was of my mom, two nights ago. But I realized while driving around in the hideous icy weather today that I hold dark memories of her, too. Perhaps I've buried them. Perhaps I've sugar-coated them. Perhaps I wanted a storybook ending to my mother's untimely death from cancer. It felt, and feels, disloyal, somehow, to remember bad parts of our relationship. I did not want to lose my mother, so I guess I did not want to remember the imperfect times. As if  remembering those would taint my memory of her, a memory I had to cling to so that I could have the strength to move on. As if presenting someone's lovely college graduation photo is presenting the whole picture.

But then I thought--maybe burying these things is unhealthy. Maybe the truth does set us free.  Maybe I'll sit less with chocolate and graham crackers if I face the good, bad and ugly.

Every face in a portrait is not flawless. People have crooked noses, lumpy chins, evil eyebrows. Some are plain people, but their portraits are still celebrated. Do flaws add to or subtract from the overall image? The Mona Lisa is not perfect--is she?

Warning: This is stark.

It's not all pretty, it truly isn't. I remember a hot day when Mom was really, really mad at me. I was down the block at my cousins' house, and had Sis's hand-me-down black Barbie case with me. I was seven or younger, definitely a low single digit. I was wearing pink flowered culottes.

My mother was furious, I can't remember why, and chased me home to our house, rage on her face, one of us holding the case, but I can't remember which. Past the Connellys, the Wings, the Harrises, the Gilmartins, the Russels--11 houses in all. I know because I counted them, I liked to know how close I lived to my godmother and my cousins. I'm pretty sure she hit me with a strap when we got home. In her bedroom. I think she may have hit me on the way there, too, right in front of the neighbors' houses, though I didn't see any witnesses out on the street. I was scared.

She hit me other times, too, I think always with a belt.

What about that small drawer in the bottom of her dresser, her work life pre-kids distilled down into a collection of supplies--stapler, staple remover, paper clips? Did she regret what she left behind, working in a lab as chemist in the early 1950s, to raise four kids? While her husband stayed on at the company?

When I was little, I threw up a lot. I think I had a nervous stomach. I threw up on the first day of first grade, but still had to go to school. Once, I threw up 14 times in the middle of the night. I had a virus, and couldn't stop wretching in the small pink and black bathroom right across from my parents' bedroom. My mother did not stand with me, or behind me, or hold my hair back. She lay in bed next to my father, but she was awake. She told me not to drink water, or it would make me throw up more. I was so thirsty between throwing up, I was dying for water. I think I had a few sips from the bathroom cup, kept them down and finally fell asleep on the cracked black leather couch in the TV room next to the bathroom.

When my first boyfriend broke up with me, at 16, after a winter of letters mailed from Long Island, with his swimming medals enclosed, and a summer of my first kisses, she did not appear to understand why I was so brokenhearted. That was just puppy love, she said with a smile, as if brushing it off lightly would somehow make me feel better. I wish she had understood. It was a crossroads. What if she had talked to me about it? What if she had taken it seriously? What would be different now? Didn't she care to see me as I was?

At least once, but I think rarely, I was the mean one. It was that Cape Cod summer before she died--so I was 19. She wanted to use some of my sunscreen at Nauset Light Beach. I didn't want to share it because the bottle was almost empty. I regretted that pretty quickly. But then she wouldn't take it when I offered. This is a memory that still haunts me.

That's enough for now. This is hard. And the flip side of it all is that it makes me realize that my Dear Figgy has some very ugly memories of me, too. It's not all love. It's sometimes rage, disappointment, fear, denial.

It feels scary to click the orange PUBLISH POST button now. But here I go.

Good night.

The Good, the Bad & the Ugly

Mari's Brownies are tiny but tempting, and
snugly wrapped--individually--like little presents.

Good

• H.'s turn on the morning drive shift, so I got to sleep until after 8.
• Bus into NYC to meet young Jack Abraham, founder and CEO of milo.com, in from Palo Alto, CA with his smart, pretty press person, Martha. Milo is a virtual dog who fetches items for you at local stores [you enter your zip code] so you know which merchants have what in stock and don't waste time spinning your wheels and running around. Smart idea for holiday season. I remember the December days [for 12 consecutive years] when I absolutely had to get my hands on the annual Holiday Barbie for Figgy's Christmas morning in Maine or Montclair. Link: http://www.milo.com/. Hope to weave a consumer story pitch around this.
• Meeting was in a Starbucks right near the Canal Street subway station, so I took the Q train bound for Coney Island. Don't think I've ever taken that train before. Like new things.
• Figgy in happy mood. That should top my list. She and her friend, A., walked over to CUPS, the new frozen yogurt place in Clifton. Now that she reported back, I need to check it out before we move on Friday. ;)
• Work deadline met. Feel competent.
• Many laughs over an email stream from Patsy and boot camp friends today, regarding chocolate cake, avoidance of it and difficult workouts. Patsy nixed my idea--posted in jest--of a trip to the Petite Cafe in Nutley, a place Helen was raving about in a group email for its chocolate cake. Patsy's reply is too good not to repeat. It made me laugh out loud: As soon as the Petite Cafe puts bacon between the layers of their chocolate layer cakes, I'll bring a piece for everyone and you can eat as much as you want during the 10 seconds of rest between your tabata sets. [Tabata is a hellish running exercise she has us do on the football field. Life is unfair.]
• Dean and DeLuca's Soho store on Broadway and Prince Street! Drank it in, studying all the delicacies and their lofty pricetags, from foie gras to a gorgeous pumpkin-shaped cake, fresh white goat cheese to bright orange tulips. Pre-Thanksgiving excitement in the air. The rich and famous must shop there, b/c sign at door said no picture taking; http://www.deandeluca.com/.
• Lovely honey-mustard-colored sweater at Anthropologie--and they had a large size. Could not afford the $98, but still was glad to see it. Hold on a minute--am I evolving into a person who can take pleasure in how a sweater feels and looks, and visualize it in her life, and where she would wear it, but calmly walks away with no regrets? That reminds me of a woman I interviewed for Good Housekeeping Magazine years ago, who had lost about 100 pounds and kept it off. It will sound funny, she told me over the phone, but I can be satisfied now with just smelling pancakes and syrup, rather than eating them. Does that make sense? No, at the time, it really didn't. Now it kind of does. 
• One itty-bitty Mari's brownie from the charming marketplace in the Limelight, a former church on Sixth Avenue and 20th Street, in the Flatiron District. Link: http://www.marisny.com/. I met Mari once in Henri Bendel when she was promoting her bite-size goodies.
• Good long walk, all the way back from Canal Street to subway stop @ 23rd and Eighth. Took about 1.5 hours counting stops to browse.

Bad

• Dad's aggressive prostate cancer. He has had prostate cancer for 15+ years, but still, we never heard the word aggressive.

 Ugly

• Dropping off baby wipes at Van Dyk to leave by Dad's bedside because using washcloths on him for frequent cleanups is irritating his skin. Sorry, tried to warn you it would be ugly. This cradle-to-grave lifetime can be trying.

Good night.

The Good, the Bad & the Ugly

Let me just cut right to the chase. Good is blue; bad is in red; ugly is purple.

About to take long soak in lavender-scented bubble bath. After washing face gently and caring for teeth. Then am going to sleep for 8.5 hours.

Beautiful orange leaves I saw on trees today--at Brookdale Park, on Montclair streets, driving back to Clifton.

Figgy just introduced me to Celestial Seasonings Mandarin Orange Spice Tea, and I'm having a nice tall cup. I like it. Maybe there's hope in learning to sooth my soul without frenzied eating, but civilized sipping instead.

I saw Sis today at Van Dyk Manor and together, we lifted Dad's spirits. Don, H., Sug and Figgy were there too.

It's sweater weather--fun to pull out the cardigans and sweater jackets, and layer them over tops and tanks.

I went to boot camp this morning and sprinted.

The layer cake I worked hard to make Sis last night was only very ordinary. We had it today at Van Dyk, and sang happy birthday to her, even though the cake was six months late. [I did deliver my present on time.] It was Sunshine Cake with Citrus Butter Cream, from epicurious.com. I love a lot of recipes on that site, but this one was disappointing, even after all that grating and squeezing [lemons and oranges, both peel and juice] and cooking the frosting. The cake texture was like cornbread. I felt bad. I wanted the cake I made Sis to be perfect. Her favorite is a butter cake with citrus frosting, and that's why I tried this. Should have stuck with the one from The Joy of Cooking, which I made her one summer on Cape Cod--she loved it.

The granite I chose in August for the bathroom is finally in place on the white beadboard vanity in our house. It is very lovely. But minor, minor problem: It doesn't match the beautiful tile around the shower and tub. I think I brought a floor tile with me to do the matching, and though the floor tile goes with the tub tile, the tub tile [primarily sand-colored] does not go with the vanity top [gray and white]. There's nothing we can do at this point except try to pull the granite and the tub together with chrome handles on the shower doors to unite the two visually. And, I clipped a gorgeous pink-tinted yellow rose off the bush in our front yard and put it in a sailboat glass on the vanity. That instantly made me feel better, and gave me hope.

My teenager hates me [feels that way a lot of the time, anyway].

Dad wants to go home, but he has no home at the moment, and besides, as was confirmed in our meeting at Van Dyk today, he needs skilled nursing care.

Anxiety. High anxiety. About both big and little things. 

Bad hair day.

The Good, the Bad & the Ugly

While I was trying to scale my own personal mountain, H. and Figgy were scaling awesome Mt. Katahdin.

Good:

1. The rain. I like how it feels, how it sounds, how it looks and what it does. H. grew an amazing tomato this summer already, thanks in part to the rains. His tomato looks and tastes as good as the local heirloom tomatoes at Whole Foods. And it has that farmy, imperfect shape and color--nothing forced or cellophane-packed about it.
2. The very pretty granite remnant I found at the granite place for our new bathroom vanity at home. Its swirly, pebbly gray and white pattern reminds me of Maine's rocky coast. And because it's a remnant, it's also a steal compared to full price. 
3. Whole Foods in Paramus being open til 10, so I was able to stop in and get some healthy-ish foods on my way home from the hospital.
4. Call from my sister-in-law Therese in Maine today. She caught me on my cell at the FedEx store and told me she hopes things with Dad unfold as they should, and that she has come to realize that nature is a good teacher, showing us the beautiful way things grow and go in cycles. I was the woman crying by the door. She also gave me some ideas--bring ice cream to Dad, talk about fun things we did. I did both. Brought a Ben & Jerry's coffee shake [he only had a few sips] and talked about the barbecue pit he dug in the ground out back and the baby bird he tried to save by feeding with my dolly bottle. 
5. The hospital chapel, open all hours.
6. Generous friends and family--generous with their time, their laughter, their hearts, their compassion, their phone calls, their car. They know who they are.
7. H., Figgy, H.'s brothers Pat and Dave and Dave's teen son Will hiked to the top of Mount Katahdin in Maine today. They left Bangor about 4:30 A.M. to drive there and H. didn't get back to the parking lot till about 8 P.M. I think it takes 10 hours to go up and down that giant mountain. I spoke to Figgy after. It was really hard, but it was worth it, she said. The view from the summit was amazing. May her mountain-climbing power stand her in good stead. May her inner strength at [almost] 15 propel her forward in the right direction through life.

Bad: 

1. Dad still not up and walking. Still barely eating. Catch-22: If you don't eat, you won't get nourishment and have the strength to stand up. And if you can't stand, we can't let you even try walking. But it's a circle--how do you break in and win? Will you get the chance and seize it?
2. We still have to select a nursing home, worst of all. Sis and I hope Dad can leave by Monday but we really don't know.

Ugly:

1. Dad being in pain for hours this evening. He was moaning and groaning and highly uncomfortable. It's not like him to moan and groan. He was writhing in pain, pulling out the oxygen tube, trying to get his hospital gown off his shoulder. Ow, ooh, ow, he said over and over. First, the nurses thought changing the Depends and switching his position in bed would help. But it didn't. He has a bed sore and a rash and also feels penned in that bed after more than three weeks. Finally, I asked them to give him a painkiller, but it took about an hour to work. This was agonizing. I felt helpless. I kept trying. He asked me again and again to fix the pillow at his head, move the one under his feet. Observing someone I love in pain made me think of how men must feel when they have to stand by and let their women do the work of giving birth. It also made me think of my Dad's mother and how she would feel about this, her baby boy. Can she see from heaven, do you think? And I remembered that book Death Be Not Proud, written by John Gunther about his teenage son Johnny, who died of a brain tumor at 17. Johnny's parents surely went through some of this.
2. Seeing a hint of a bad side in someone you only want to see good in. I only want to see good in his nurses, not someone "joking" with my Dad that he must say the magic word to get another spoonful of God-awful hospital mashed potatoes and reconstituted chicken. Hey, this is a man who loved food all his life. Can't he have some dignity? It made me feel bad. It was as though we were off-stage, not in the middle of a real-life drama, and she was interpreting things for me, the audience, from stage left. He's like a baby, she said. But I feel bad even typing this, because I know that Dad's well-being is in the nurses' hands much of the time, and this may somehow jinx him.

Let me sleep on it.

The beautiful image above is from Everett Potter's Travel Report website. Here's the link: http://www.everettpotter.com/blog/2010/06/steve-jermanoks-active-travels-mt-katahdin-maine.html.

The Good, the Bad & the Ugly

Sometimes a list says it better than text. We signed in to live at the AVE luxury condiminiums in Clifton, about 4 miles from our house. Built two years ago. We'll likely be here about three months. Sugar is on my lap now, down in the lounge. I just took her out.

The Good
1. Bathtub, nice big bathtub, not like our old one. Calgon, take me away.
2. Cleaning lady, every Wednesday. We had a cleaning lady for years, every other week, but had to stop.
3. Spa services on site that we can sign up for [massages, masks etc.]. Figgy and I love that.
4. Fitness center open 24/7.
5. Free breakfast in lobby every day from 6 to 9: fruit, oatmeal, yogurt. Guess there are a lot of business travelers?
6. Starbucks coffee, plus tea and cookies in lounge all day--and water with fresh lemon slices in it, which sounds even better.
6. Iron, ironing board, washer, dryer, vacuum cleaner, two big bedrooms, three TVs, dishwasher.
7. Closet space. Organized closet space in all rooms...bathroom, bedroom etc. Not like the tiny closets in our 1920s home. Can feel much more organized this way.

The Bad
1. Have to walk really far to take Sug out. Not like just opening our front door and being in the yard. Could not be old person living here, too long a walk. Takes me like five minutes to get out, down the elevator from 2nd floor and through winding hallways that vaguely, vaguely remind me of "The Shining," a movie I have never watched in full because the little parts I've seen have terrified me.
2. Can't walk to grocery store, P.O. and stores, as at home.
3. Don't know neighborhood yet where walking Sug.

The Ugly
1. Growing pains all around. Overemotional husband. Teenager with big bedroom and door with lock on it.
2. Sug pooed in the hallway just now as I was heading out. Like I said, it takes 5 minutes to get out until I find another exit. Thank goodness I had a bag with me.

Better days ahead.