Outer Banks, NC

Posted on September 27, 2009

Boston, Part one.

Posted on September 12, 2009

We had a fabulous time and we loved Boston.  It is a really beautiful city.  Which is a good thing, because our issues with our hotel reservation seriously threatened to ruin our trip.

The first night, we had a delicious dinner at a restaurant overlooking the harbor.

Then we walked along the harbor until we were all tired and ready to sleep.  We got some beautiful pictures of the sun seat and full moon.

I should also mention that we discovered the night before that we had forgotten to bring our stroller with us.  Oops.

We headed out to the Boston Children’s Museum.  It was cute, and fun.  We’ve been to better children’s museums, but Chloe still seemed to enjoy it, although, she was a bit cranky.  I suspect she didn’t sleep well because we could hear the elevator dinging all night from our hotel room.  We had a delicious (and expensive) lunch at the Barking Crab, then played some more at the museum.

Around two we started our long walk along the Freedom Trail.  Chloe was a trooper, and either walked or rode up on Daddy’s shoulders, but what she didn’t do is nap.

Our last stop was the Cheers bar from the TV show.  Our intention was to only take pictures, but Chloe decided she wanted to eat there.  John and I were like, “Awww shucks, do we have to?”  Just kidding.

Chloe fell asleep on Daddy’s shoulder on the walk back to the car.  John and I decided to make a pit stop at a Target we saw near our hotel and we picked up a cheap stroller for the next day.

This night we were woken up at about 1:30 or 2:00am by some very loud, obnoxious hotel guests.  They continued talking, laughing, and annoying the piss out of us for almost two hours.  I stuck my head out of the room to yell at them, but I couldn’t even see anybody in the hallways, and I didn’t know what room they were in.

The next morning, John had it out with hotel management and we were given free parking and vouchers for a free breakfast.  “Cause, yeah, those weren’t included in the cost of the hotel.

Loss

Posted on September 8, 2009

I have heard time and time again that everyone deals with the loss of a family member differently.

A week ago my grandmother died.

I am not going to make this more dramatic than it needs to be.  I was not close to my grandmother.  We have always had a strange relationship.  Most of my childhood, she lived in Montana and we really only saw her every other year.  I hope I don’t sound like a pouty child, but I never felt like she cared about my brother, sister and I.  She seemed to be focused on the grandchildren in Montana, and we were extras.  It didn’t help that she never really seemed to ask or pay attention to the things we were interested in, she seemed to make my mom and my dad a little crazy every time we visited, and sometimes she even forgot that we were her grandchildren, too.

My memories of her are pretty jaded.  I remember visiting her house in Montana and she had a wall full of school pictures of her grandchildren, and my brother, sister and I were not on it.  Or she sent my sister a birthday card with a check inside written out to me.  Over the years, our Christmas gifts included pillow cases, afghans, and cast off “free gifts” you get when you sign up for a bank account or credit card.  Not that gifts are everything, but there is something about the thought that counts.  I never felt like she was thinking about us.

This impression of her solidified when my grandfather died when I was a freshmen in college.  I didn’t feel like I really knew him either.  But I knew my dad was sad, and that was hard to see.  The worst was at my grandfather’s funeral, where she kept loudly declaring, “What am I going to do with all of his stuff?  Who’s going to get rid of all of his stuff?”  We are all sad and crying, and she’s worried about herself.  I wasn’t the only one giving her dirty looks that day.

Then she decided to move to Colorado.  I do feel like she started trying.  but I still felt that it was more about “her” than “us.”  And again, she made my dad and mother crazy.  Everytime she called, there was a collective groan.

I made a special effort to include her in my wedding, she was my only surviving grandparent and I was feeling sentimental.  She spent a lot of time asking, “Where is the reception?  If she’s getting married here, were are we going to eat?”  And announcing to anyone who would listen that she was moving back to Montana.  Which she did, shortly after my wedding.

In the last few years, our relationship has been over the mail.  She sent us cards, which had the right name 80% of the time.  And we sent her pictures of us and Chloe.  Every card she sent had the guilt…”I hope I get to meet Chloe before I die.”

Sadly, she never did.

I think my grandmother’s attitude toward life limited her.  And I know that her attitude toward me made me feel SO GUILTY when I moved to New Jersey.  I was always jealous of those kids who had a great relationship with their grandparents, and I never had that.  I wanted my kids to have that relationship with their grandparents.  And I feel, through the willingness of the grandparents on both sides to travel, Chloe does have that, even though we live so far away.  But, I have to admit that I make an extra added effort to ensure that Chloe knows her grandparents because of the way I always felt about my grandmother.

I found out my grandmother died over a post on Facebook.  That’s only because I missed the text message from my dad.  It feels a bit cold, but it is extremely symbolic of our relationship.  John and I immediately started looking in to flight options, and quickly descovered that attending my grandmother’s funeral was going to cost us around $2,500.  I wanted to be there to support my dad, whatever our feelings, this was his mommy.  But, it gets to the point where you have to step back from the emotions and embrace the logistics.

So, instead of attending the funeral, we went on our previously planned trip to Boston.  Chloe was able to attend her preschool orientation.  And I sit here, alone, worrying about my Daddy, and hoping that he is not having a rough time.  The tears I shed today are for him.  And that, in itself,  makes me a bit sad.

Big G, little g, What begins with G?

Posted on September 3, 2009

This one didn’t go as well as our other themes.

Problem #1:  I was going to hold a “Ghostly Gala.”  But, when we got back from Colorado, we had loads of stuff to do, including finishing up paper work for preschool, signing her up for ballet, then buying the requreired outfit for ballet, then unpacking, washing then repacking for Boston.  Wich meant, G got a bit rushed.  And our friend who was going to lend us a “ghost” outfit discovered the costume had been destroyed by her sister-in-law.  Now, all of this is obviously an excuse.  It would have been relatively easy for me to create a Ghost costume out of white sheet.  However, we don’t have any extra sheets, and I honestly just ran out of time.

Not to mention that our “recipe” for this letter was going to be “Ghostly Green Granola.”  Strike that, make it “Green Granola” because if you don’t cut the granola while it is still warm, it is impossible to cut it into ghostly shapes.  We ended up with “ghastly green granola” which, sadly, none of us want to eat.

Be that as it may, here is G:

Mountains Majesty

Posted on September 2, 2009

Colorado is pretty.  Nuff said.