A Tall Girl's Adventures in a Tiny World

Bruce Springsteen is singing “Land of Hopes and Dreams” in my ears just now, the version from his Broadway album. And I am weeping. Again. Just sitting on my couch with eyes streaming while my children play video games, eat snacks, read books, chase the cats. They’ve become used to seeing Mom cry like this, out of nowhere, off and on weepy, seemingly for no reason. So they’re carrying on with their afternoon while I sit here sniffling to Spotify. I have no idea why the tears are so close to the surface lately, why they come at unexpected moments. Before you say it, no, I’m not pregnant. Nor am I sad. In fact, quite the opposite: I’m happy, I’m grateful, I’m overwhelmed with just how good my life is today.  But I’m also hyperaware of the fear and anger and anxiety and oppression that grips people in every corner of this country...this world. I feel it. My body sometimes vibrates with it. And the tears may just be a recentering mechanism. Crying, after all, is release. I’...

I started this month's Slice of Life Challenge thinking it would help get me into a more regular writing routine. Instead, Life sliced me! March has been a doozy in Bachmania...job loss, school struggles, snow storms, surgery, canceled travel plans, and now a lengthy hospital stay. The good news is there is just over a week left in this horrid month. As I'm sitting here next to Honey in his hospital room after a very scary day yesterday, I'm counting blessings. I have a lot to be grateful for and I want to dwell in gratitude instead of in fear and annoyance. We have a comfortable home, a full refrigerator,  and beautiful, happy children; I am healthy, and Honey will be soon, too. Nothing else really matters, does it? I've lost count of the number of times I've sat in a hospital with my husband over the course of our marriage. Every time has seemed dire. And every time he comes home healthier and our marriage gets stronger. I have to keep reminding myself this we...

At 9:00 this morning, Honey sat at the dining room table, prepping for a phone interview; I was working at my desk on the front porch. It's been a week since he lost his job, and today the weight of that seems to be pressing on both of us. Unspoken anxieties hang in the air next to whispered reassurances. It's a lot of work keeping the gremlins at bay. A local radio station played in the background faintly, a DJ periodically yammering about temperature shifts or local bands. My ears perked up: the lilting opening guitar chords of "Power of Two," a song by the Indigo Girls that one doesn't hear often, except on my iTunes shuffle.  "Hey," I smiled, "it's our wedding song." A really long song for a first dance, and we took some ribbing from friends because it's not a traditional wedding choice for straight couples. But when I picked it all those years ago, I thought the lyrics were perfect for us -- and they still are: So we're o...

For the fourth time in four years, Honey is in the hospital. And he has been for most of this month. Again I spent almost 30 straight hours in the ER with him waiting for answers: Lying on a window sill countertop trying to snooze, leaning on various uncomfortable chairs in various waiting rooms while he has test after test. Eating crap food from the cafeteria. Feeling helpless as I watched him in pain and frustration. Hearing a renowned specialist say he doesn't know what's causing the pain -- in the 7,000 endoscopies he's performed, he says, he's not seen a case like this -- but they're going to attack it more aggressively now. I wonder why they didn't attack it more aggressively 2 weeks ago. Why can we never get one step ahead of this illness or out from under its financial burden? I am willing my feet to step out of his room now, to go back to my children and my life and try to be normal. I can't help wondering when I leave him here in the evening w...

Right about this time last year, we rolled into the rest stop at Kittery, just across the bridge that marks the Maine state line. One hour from our new home. We'd been driving all day, with just a few stops here and there, and we all felt jittery and excited and anxious. You know, lwhen your legs feel all twitchy because they've been folded up all day and you've been drinking Cokes and sucking lollipops. The black sky sparkled with a zillion stars -- night seems darker here, maybe because there are fewer people and less light pollution -- and I leaned back to stretch my neck and back. I breathed deeply, yoga-style, while the kids ran and jumped and played around the Smokey the Bear statue. And that's when I smelled it: White pine and salt air. That magical combination that brings back every happy vacation memory from my childhood. Here we are, I realized, in the place I've treasured my whole life for its wide open spaces, rocky shorelines, wild blueberry hillsides...

I glanced into the mirror as I rinsed my hands last Sunday morning. The face looking back shocked me: dry skin dotted with acne and a sunspot on the cheek, lines and pores more visible than ever; hair speckled with grays but lacking any lightness ("as we get older, unfortunately our hair loses it's luster," says my rainbow-haired 20-something hairdresser); bloodshot eyes sunken behind puffy folds of skin, crows feet wrinkles forming in their corners; a chin that's quickly moving south and a jawline getting rounder, thanks to the 12 (!) pounds of "winter weight" I'm carrying. (But let's be honest: We know this weight's not going on summer vacation.) I don't like much about this picture. I shlumped back into bed with a big dramatic sigh. "God, I look old. And I'm fat. And my skin is horrendous. I'm hideous." "You're beautiful to me. Always," he reassured as he pulled me closer. "How can you tell? Your...

Honey  started his new job a couple weeks ago. As much as I like having a second paycheck in our bank account every month, I really love it that he's happy. And even more...I love it that he's happy and home with us in the evenings. We both have tiny little commutes now, so for the first time in our marriage, we all get home around the same time. Honey and I spend time together in the kitchen while one or both of us prepares dinner. He helps with the cleaning and shopping, and he's been much more active in getting the boys ready for bed in the evenings. You know why he does all this? Because he's relaxed. And because he knows that when he does more around the house, I'm relaxed. He loves me so much that sometimes it's hard for me to understand or even accept.  Even after all these years.  Still can't believe we live here It's difficult for me to relax completely, of course, even when things are going so well. Especially when things are goin...

I wrote this email to my "7 for 7" group at church. We have been reading a book titled  7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess (Jen Hatmaker, 2013) and examining how we can be more conscientious about our own life excesses, both personally and as a church group. Reading this book has coincided with my own yearning to change my setting and habits -- and has helped tremendously as we ready our family for our relocation to Maine: So, just as I pulled into the driveway Tuesday evening, after our fun little apple cider party, I received a text message from the owner of the condo we were planning on renting in Gorham, Maine: "We've received an offer on our house. Really have to consider it." Mind you, we had already signed the lease, set the date with our movers for November 3, and enrolled our kids in Gorham schools. I almost threw up. Long story shorter, they did decide to sell the house...pretty much right out from under us. But you know what happened? ...

I filed our taxes last night. Which doesn't matter to anyone, really, but Uncle Sam and me. But reviewing one's financial statements for the past year forces one to think a little bit about the past year. And as I laid awake in bed last night I thought, wow, I'm really freaking proud of my family! Let's review the year that was, shall we? Big Daddy gets laid off from his 12-year job a mere 3 weeks before we give birth to Baby #2. Instead of spiraling into doom and despair, we regroup, rededicate, refocus. Baby #2 arrives , beautiful and perfect, and we adjust to being a foursome...and to sleepless nights, messy diapers, and marveling at the wonder of infancy. Mommy is home on maternity leave while Daddy is home on severance pay; Big Brother goes from full-time childcare to half-day preschool and lots of time at home with both parents and his new sibling. We spend 3 amazing months together, a glorious springtime with nowhere to go and nothing to do but be a family. We...

Today is our 10th wedding anniversary. That's right, one decade ago, I put on the poofy white dress with the sequins and the pearls and the long, heavy train, and I flounced down the aisle toward my man's beautiful smile. If you'd asked me on that day what we'd be doing on our 10th anniversary, I probably would have told you we'd be spending it on a tropical beach, or maybe in Europe, or at the very least, at a romantic little bed-and-breakfast in the mountains. Ha. Nope. Instead, because neither of us could come up with an acceptably romantic plan that didn't involve logistical nightmares around the care of our newborn who won't take a bottle, and because we're pretty much broke, we decided to have a low-key evening out as a family. After all, as Chris put it, this is the birthday of our family, so we should celebrate it together. And, really, he and I have spent every day together for the last three months, so a night out as a twosome, though it would ...

I arrived home a little bit late from the office this evening, after running an errand without worrying about racing up the highway from my office to get to daycare on time. When I walked in the door, I was greeted by the most scrumptious smells of onions and fried pork chops. A little boy with a gigantic smile and an infectious giggle ran to me yelling "Mommy's home!" and a handsome man kissed me and said "Just in time. Have a seat. Your dinner's ready." We ate a delicious dinner, and throughout the meal, the man and the boy spoke a strange made-up language that only they understood, exchanging giggles about a surprise that waited for me in the fridge. Finally when I thought the little boy would explode from the excitement of the surprise, the man presented a homemade carrot cake -- the first he'd ever baked -- just because he knew it is my favorite. No need to pinch me, or check me for fever -- or send me for counseling because I've obviously had a...

So, here we are, cruising through our lives, getting excited and buying diapers for our new baby, digging out from two blizzards, counting the days until spring and then summer...thinking everything has finally settled down after the topsy-turvy year that was 2009. We had yet another lovely weekend, took Sweet Boy bowling with friends last night -- a really fun, giggly evening -- and as we drove home, I caught myself thinking about how perfect my life is. Then suddenly, whammo. The other shoe drops. The shoe we've been dreading for just over a year. But we weren't expecting it to fall from this particular foot. Chris was laid off today. Without warning. Kissed us goodbye and drove himself to work on a sunny President's Day, and was called in to HR with the rest of his staff at 9:00, home by 11. They cut all but three in his department, all the highest earners, because the company is failing and they can't afford them anymore. Because Chris has been there 12 years, they ...

[Warning: What follows is a whole lot of "poor me." I won't be hurt if you choose to just skip this and hop over to Perez Hilton or some site more interesting. Or, feel free to comment something along the lines of "Suck it up, you whiny brat, there are thousands of people dying in Haiti now. Your life is just fine."] I am low on patience and compassion this morning, and though I feel a little bad about that, I need to vent a bit now. My husband, who is also my best friend and companion through good times and bad, has a nasty head cold. You know I adore him and I'm sorry that he feels awful, bt I'm also a bit jealous and grouchy that he can lie in bed moaning for two days because he has some congestion pain in his ear and head. I probably should be doting over him, making him homemade chicken soup and rubbing Vicks on his chest or something. But no. I'm griping. You know why? Because not only do I have symptoms of this same head cold, including a sea...

Today is my man's birthday. This is the 12th birthday I've celebrated with him, and he's not one to ask for a whole lot of hullabaloo. As he would say, birthdays happen every year. Maybe so, but when I started thinking about it this morning, I realized what an awful lot we've been through since his last birthday. And I was instantly awed and grateful to have this birthday to celebrate with my sweetie. In this past year he's shown me time and again why I chose to spend my life with him. I have watched him conquer major health issues and come out stronger and healthier. He works so hard and endures a ridiculous commute, but he busts his butt to be home with us in the evenings. He is an amazing father, playful, wise, and stern in equal parts; his patience is far greater than mine. He shares household tasks (even writes cute little chores lists for himself) -- and I even overheard him say to our neighbor once this spring "It's a great day for yard work, isn...

5. He not only washes and folds all our household laundry, but he puts my clean clothes away if I whine about doing it myself at the end of a long day. (He may not guess all the drawers correctly, but he tries -- and that's what counts.) 4. Instead of complaining about my spiky legs, he hands me one of his expensive uber-razors. (Ladies, don't be fooled by the pretty pink packages -- men's razors really are better!) 3. When we eat out, he never tells me what he's going to order. He lets me pick my own meal, then he gets the dish he knows I really wanted, and he swaps with me mid-meal. 2. He surprises me with a pair of purple Chuck Taylor sneakers he saw me eyeing in the mall weeks ago. (Because he knew I wouldn't get up off my wallet for something so silly.) 1. He calls me in the middle of a busy Monday to talk about mundane stuff like garage door openers and lawn mowers and all the phone calls he's made about each...then mid-sentence pauses and says "I ca...

"Grow old along with me / the best is yet to be." These lyrics from our wedding song seem especially poignant to me today, after visiting with my grandparents this weekend. " We met at my church, you know. " Out of the blue, my grandmother (the original Tall Girl who still has show-stopping legs) will start her tale of her first encounter with my grandfather: "My mother always invited the young servicemen at church home for dinner, because my brother was in the service, you see. As we walked to the church door, I noticed that it was raining. I was upset about this, you see, because I had on my brand new shoes (in those days you had to have a coupon for new shoes, so these were very special to me) and I knew I had to cross the street to get to the car. I stood and watched the water rush down the street, and I tried to decide if I should just take my shoes off and run in my hose. That's when he stepped up beside me. He asked why I fretted, and I giggled about...

Dear Diary, I wanted to write briefly to tell you about my boyfriend: He looks a lot like my husband, only thinner and sprier and shinier in the eyes. He's the man I fell in love with, the man I longed for over the last two years, the man I brought home from the hospital in mid-January. That's right. My boyfriend's back, and he's better than before -- hey-la hey-la! Every day I wake up and pinch myself. He has lost gobs of weight, has gained energy and vitality that I haven't seen in years. He changed his work schedule so he comes home earlier in the evenings to play with Sweet Boy while I get our low-fat, low-carb, super-veggie meals together. He wakes up early on the weekends so we can walk in the local parks. He bought me a bike for my birthday so we can ride together. He doesn't snore anymore ( hallelujah! ), but he kisses me goodnight and rolls over each morning to snuggle when the alarm goes off. It's almost too good to be true. My lover has returned! ...

My mother-in-law called this past weekend and made an offer I just can't refuse: She wants to come down to our house once a month to play with Sweet Boy while Big Daddy and I go out. Just the two of us. Alone. As a couple of adults. Can you imagine how wonderful that would be? I didn't even let her get the entire sentence out before I yelled "YES! YES! YES! PLEASE!" Since Sweet Boy was born three-and-a-half years ago, I can count on both hands the number of times Big Daddy and I have been out on a date. It's sad, but true. We try to go out for each of our birthdays; we went to a couple of shows at the Walnut Street Theatre when Boy was an infant; and we had a really nice anniversary dinner at Harry's Savoy Grill last year. This past Christmas, we spent an entire day together while Boy was at school -- breakfast, shopping, movie, more shopping, sitting at a coffee shop holding hands and reading magazines -- it was fabulous. And I remembered how much I really ...

Sorry I've been away for a while -- just trying to get in the groove of our new diabetes-and-hyperlipidemia lifestyle, focusing on training Chris in the ways of the healthy eater, spending as much time as a family as we can. Everything's going well, one week in. I'm proud of Chris, truly. He's taking this seriously, writing down every morsel he eats, going for walks outside (we went out at 7pm one night this week, all three of us bundled up, and played a game of Eye Spy with our maglight -- really fun) or inside on the treadmill when it's mega-cold out. He seems like a new man, and I can't believe we didn't recognize all the signs and indications that he was sick. I mean, it's possible he's been full-blown diabetic since about last spring -- which would explain many of the things about his attitude and lifestyle that have been really frustrating to me this past year. Hindsight is 20-20, I know, but I'm hoping that now, as he finally discovers wha...

He's home! He's home! He's home! I picked up Big Daddy and hauled him from the hospital yesterday afternoon, took him home so he could scrub the hospital funk off, and then we went over to pick up Sweet Boy. I can't adequately describe the scene, but I bet you can imagine the reunion of father and child: We walked onto the playground, where Sweet Boy was swinging Superman-style. I let Chris walk in first, and when Boy saw Daddy, he ran harder than I've ever seen, arms outstreatched and joy all over his face, yelling "Daddeee!!!" across the playground. A big family hug, smiles and giggles and kisses, and teachers dabbing tears from their eyes. Fabulously good homecoming. We had a happy experience at Target, where Big Daddy picked up his new meds and learned that they're available in cheap generic form -- $4/bottle. Thank you, God! So, instead of spending $40/month on pills as we've been doing, we'll be spending $48/month on pills...not the $100 ...