Expressions of Pink Tool and Silk Roses

Ahh… the joys of a holiday….


Erin and I have decided that Arden is somehow instinctually against holidays.


It seems that each holiday that arrives with applicable family fanfare falls during a time when Arden would prefer to remain stationary at home.


This from a kid who is bored as hell at home during any other given weekend.


So Sunday was Easter.


Now I am a ‘recovering’ Catholic…. And by recovering I mean I would still be a happily practicing Catholic if it wasn’t for giant middle finger the ol’ pope and O’Malley seem to enjoy wagging in front of me on a regular basis.


So I’m attempting to find spirituality without the trappings of organized religion.


Like the Catholic school girl I was I am still not comfortable with the fact that Arden isn’t baptized but I figure with the Original Nonna praying for all of us (and at her age I’m willing to bet she has a direct line to the big man himself) we’re covered.


Erin thinks I’m nuts but hey, I came from a high school whose school song opens with “Hail Mother of all holiness, Make us like to thee” and a religion who promises hell and damnation to all who don’t conform….and boy have I not conformed.


But Original Nonna doesn’t have an issue with Erin and I, says we’re not going to hell and like I said, by now she is on a first name basis with God so I figure I’m all good.


Back to Easter….


Erin’s and my good friends are Jewish/Russian and they have a daughter named Alina who we figure once she and Arden can communicate (restricted right now by Arden not speaking and Alina speaking only Russian) are going to raise holy hell together.


Alina’s second birthday party was Sunday morning at 10:30, so of course we had to be there to celebrate with them.


At 9:00 I had to call Anya and tell her that we’d be there rather late since Arden was napping and well…we knew the day would be long and starting out with a good nap under her belt seemed like a good idea.


And it was a good IDEA…..In practice all it did was buy us a semi rested GROUCH.


In her defense her biology kicked in and was trying to push some teeth through her gums…so just give me my excuse instead of the truth…that aliens from the planet Gorph zoomed in and kidnapped my pleasant, friendly child who babbles Mama and giggles uncontrollably if you ask her “Where Za BUGGY?!”.


Arden’s response to her teeth growing escapade was to sleep fitfully at night and go on a hunger strike (which continues today)


So here she is hungry (but refusing to eat), tired (because she can’t get in a block of good sleep) and in a matter of minutes PISSED OFF (because we shoved her in a mountain of pink tool and roses and then dared to put up her hair)


I’m sure if she could speak she would have taken the lord’s name in vain (On EASTER!) which would have had the Original Nonna praying double time on Monday.


She spent our brief time at Alina’s party clinging to Erin’s shoulder, pouting or breastfeeding (because, you know what? She was hungry…but don’t DARE offer her a spoon or behold the power of pissy 7 month old vocalizations).


We scooted out of the party to go to the Original Nonna’s for Easter… and carefully held Arden back until she acclimated scared of a Christmas repeat.


Now what sucks here is usually she settles in and is down right charming… IT TOOK HOURS for her to decide to be amiable to the situation and really we only got there AFTER the beautiful dress came off.


How does a 7 month old have that sort of opinion on dress??


Sigh.


The day was supposed to end over at my mom’s for cake and bonding with my Aunt Heather et al’ BUT even my mom had to admit that bringing Arden home at 7pm might have been a wise decision. So home we went and to bed Arden went for another restless night.


Now the next major event will be over the summer….. who wants to lay bets that she’ll either get an ear infection OR start showing some molar love?


Dora

Details, details....

Oh. My. God.


Its has been ages since I've had a second to drop a line and currently I have about a second to do so.


So where to start? Arden? The house? My job?


I'll just have to gloss over whatever comes to mind and worry about the rest later (like the latest exhausting conversation with my mom).


In a nod to previous posts on Arden's site my company who went through the layoffs now has annouced a merger. Now I doubt this will effect my HAVING a job. In fact it may become a problem of having MORE of a job than I bargained for. I'm holding tight until I get a feel for corporate culture.


Arden is hopefully on an upswing in the health department, but heck, I thought that last week....WAS EVEN BRAGGING about it on Friday...only to be back at the ped's on Saturday morning. Antibiotics round II...Suprex. Which has a great name in my opinion as a parent. If you're going to have to give your child a drug, something that smells like the head of a Strawberry Shortcake doll and has a name like SUPREX works for me. I picture a medicine bottle wearing a cape embossed with a giant "S" attacking whatever evil bacteria that won't let her ears and eyes clear up.


In word on the crumbling but charming victorian... we had our burner serviced which turned out to be in great shape. Not so much could be said for the oil tank. Funny thing...leaks are frowned upon apparently. Sigh.


Now if the major replacement of said oil tank wasn't bad enough...our car, fresh from its yearly tune up decided that perhaps starting wasn't on its high list of priorities. Gert the car needs a new starter.


Okay I have to go...Arden is speculating on the fit of her Elmo phone into the DVD player...

A Million Shards of Sound

Arden is in the midst of the cold that won’t end.


Today when we went for her 6 month well baby visit the ped decided that she was unwell enough not to give her the next series of vaccinations.


Which suits me just fine because I can’t stand watching her get shots, a fact that fascinates me since I can give myself shots without a shrug and in the past have cheerfully punctured my horses’ jugular veins to get a Coggins sample.


The appointment was at 8am and our drive is just long enough that I was out the door bright and early. The sun was shining and as I loaded Arden into the car the air was just buzzing.


Car doors slamming, birds singing…..


And then it hit me.


If you’ve lived in New England what I’m about to say will make sense.


Winter here is quiet. Beyond the cold when you walk out the door the first thing, even living in a city like we do, you just are aware that the air around you is still. Sounds like a car engine vibrate off the sidewalk and migrate through you.


Some people say Winter is dead… I feel more like everything is asleep.


Then one morning you wake up and even though the air is still icy on your cheeks and the grass brown and hidden under patches of snow, the world is awash with sound.


Birds clamoring, people walking by, children running to the bus, a million shards of sound combining into the din of life. You have to pay attention to discern what is making each noise


Spring is finally here!


Sure another snow storm may wallop us next weekend but the change is here.


Arden’s first spring.


I can’t wait to finally get outdoors and explore it with her.


Parks, camping, HRC Family Events, Pride, the beach...


Where to start?

Of Human Grace and Compassion

Beyond Arden I spend most of my spare time with animals and animal rescue. Dog rescue in particular with A2Z Rescue.


Although 90% of the time working rescue is out and out frustrating, and since we work with high kill shelters down right depressing, there are also many moments that are miraculous examples of human compassion at its best.


Henry is a Golden Retriever. When we posted him for adoption we were inundated with applications. Everybody loves a Golden and Henry was a lovely example of his breed.


He is goofy and loving, playful and downright cheerful. He hasn’t met a person he couldn’t love or an animal that isn’t his best friend. When happy he bounces like a rabbit.


Henry was found wandering along the side of a road someplace down South. Skinny, emaciated… lost and confused. Dumped? Ran off and lost his way? We’ll never be sure.


Passed as healthy by a vet and aged at approximately 6 years old, our rescue posted him for adoption and I handled interviewing the legions of potential homes.


As an adoption coordinator I can’t tell you why I sometimes pick a home. In a fanciful moment I usually think some guardian angel of animals nudges my brain to pick one application over another.


When I picked Henry’s new home, on paper they actually didn’t meet all the criteria we use to weed out applications… but I kept going back to it. So I called them.


And was thrilled by this family. They were the right ones. I just knew it.


Two weeks ago Henry went home with them.


Yesterday he went to the vet.


Henry is dying.


Henry is 10-12 years old. He has cataracts and is losing his hearing.


He has two tumors and hookworms.


Our heartbroken (and embarrassed rescue) could only offer the devastated adopters the opportunity to turn him back over to us. Since I handled the adoption I even offered to provide him foster care in my own home if that made it easier on them.


But this family simply replied that it was sad that Henry was in such a state and probably was neglected for all of his life and the least he was owed was love, compassion and hospice in his last months.


They didn’t want a refund or money for medicine or vet visits.


They made me cry.


They gave me hope.


They reminded me that not everyone wants an adorable puppy or a shiny young purebred dog.


And that the human heart cannot be expressed on an adoption application.


Because of them I can call a few more people tonight and realize for every disappointment there is that intangible hope waiting in the wings….


For Lexi, Bandit, Amber, Maybel, Oscar, Bubbie, Jackson… the list is endless.


But not hopeless.


Thank you Henry and family.