Survivors

I've always been a fan of the National Lampoon Vacation series. Chevy Chase's depiction of the clueless, giddy yet ultimately gracious and humbled family man is one of my favorites, and the underlying plot asserting Murphy' law of vacations that " if it can go wrong, it probably will in some fashion" rings true when reflecting on our recent initial full-family sojourn to Florida.

Before I go into the details of our trip which at times might err on the negative tip, I want to emphasize that we had a great time overall, and I mean that in all earnestness. We had a wonderful visit with Geoff's brother Mike and his fiance, Jessi, and this in itself was reason enough to travel to Orlando and encourage future trips.

Oh, and the wizarding world of Harry Potter was awesome as well.

Now, onto our Chevy Chase-esque adventure.

This was Arlo's first time as an air passenger, and he assumed the role like a pro. He navigated the airports with the ease of a pharmaceutical rep from Eli Lilly slinging Prozac, and was very calm during the flight. Well, the first flight. The flight back he was somewhat restless and at one point began to take his seatbelt off. Geoff and I were completely frazzled by that point in time and mentioned to him that the police " air marshals" would come and tell him to put his seatbelt on if he didn't listen to us, to which he very loudly exclaimed " BUT I DON'T WANT TO GO TO JAIL".

Once we arrived in Orlando, we disembarked our flight and had a little trouble locating our baggage claim area. Once we found it, I'm not sure what happened, but Arlo wasn't having any of it. He conveyed his frustrations through his many attempts to run away " MOMMY, IT'S HARRY POTTER AND MINIONS AND SHREK" ( after escaping my grasp and sprinting towards a poster for Universal Studios) , refusal to walk, and just generally not following instructions.

And it was H-O-T. Like camping that year at Deer Creek for Phish hot. But with luggage and a very tired 3 year old and many miles still yet to go.  We got our car and set out for the hotel and we pretty much guessed our way to the hotel( Geoff has a great navigation sense). Once there ( NO thanks to Onstar) we all collapsed.

Next day we awoke and immediately got ready for what I thought was going to be our vacation "it" factor. Little did I know it would be more like our vacation "shit" factor... Through media and Disney stores and Disney junior and mass marketing etc etc I mistakenly thought that my kid would become the happiest kid on earth in the " happiest place on earth". I. was. SO. WRONG. In retrospect, I had encountered several telling reactions towards our " Disney demise"- most notably from a momma friend who would giggle nervously and look the other way when I would discuss our trip details with her.

So we got to the park early, as everyone else in the world apparently does. 18 dollars later, we walked to the entrance and made a beeline for the monorail. Arlo was pumped about riding the monorail, but when we got to the line to get on said monorail, IT WAS CLOSED. " Sorry folks, gotta ride the ferry!" exclaimed an overly chipper park attendant. This should have been our first sign to just turn around and go back, but we pressed on. Now about 8:45AM local time, I was already sweating buckets, waiting in line for this magical ferry. We were herded on board and smashed together like some theme park crazed sardines. Once off the ferry we encountered more difficulties getting into the park, as their finger ID system eluded Geoff and I. We were yelled at by the ticket guy " only one fingerprint per person!!"but were finally granted access to the " land of dreams and creativity". We rented a stroller and Arlo immediately began to cry even though we had just purchased a gold plated water fan thingy for him ( I say gold plated because the price indicated that it had some sort of value other than plastic and dirty water).  Main street was packed already at 9:30 AM, and an eccentric crowd of over-eager mouse eared wanderers and enthusiasts were already scavenging and devising their plans for the day. We, however, managed to simply score a map and decided to just try and play it by ear. Apparently you can't do that at Disney world.

We started with a walk towards somethingorother. Fantasy land, Future world, something. I think they all start with the letter F. At any rate, Arlo threw a fit the entire walk towards the castle muttering something about being scared. Never did figure out what that was about. We walked towards whatever land houses the dumbo ride and the little mermaid stuff and attempted to take him out of his stroller and stand in line. He freaked out. Put him back in the stroller, walked him towards the race cars. Tried to stand in line for that. He started hitting and screaming, so back in the stroller he went ( sorry, i don't care if i'm at Disney world, if you throw a fit, you get a time out). Had him watch dumbo ride. Screamed and cried. Bought him a cookie, refused to eat it. Finally we decided to cut our losses and go back and sit somewhere for a few minutes. Geoff had to go to first aid for a huge cut on his foot, so we tried to watch a parade. Again, another epic fail. FINALLY we decided on embarking on the train that goes around the park, and that was a success. Oh, and I got my Dole Whip thing. That was cool.
We go back to the hotel ( our checkbook is now uncontrollably SOBBING with our costly mistake) and contact my brother-in-law and his fiance, who quickly come to our aid and whisk Arlo off for a few hours so that we can all take a breath and realize that Disney is not our thing, but we can still salvage this trip, which is what we did.  The next few days were awesome. We went to Universal, which was much more our speed. Arlo enjoyed all the kiddie stuff and I pretended I was a student at Hogwarts. We went to dinner and had laughs playing in the pool. I think I saw the guy who played Jacob on LOST at whole foods. I finished my JK Rowling crime novel( which was excellent, BTW).

Most importantly, we SURVIVED our first real trip as a family of 3.

Life with Arlo Review

I'm embarrassed that I haven't written much at all in the last year- writing used to be my " go to" therapy, but as I write so much for school,  I've slacked off immensely. So here's an update of my life with Arlo and a break from the recent norm of journal writing and trying to use APA format correctly:

-I never knew I could love someone so very much. Arlo is so funny, so creative, so happy. I see a great deal of my eccentricities in him and a lot of Geoff's determination and strength. This kid is my entire world.

- We're still heavily into Thomas the Train. I guess it's better than being into Calliou, cause man, I can't stand Calliou. Thomas and friends may be irritating at times, but at least the narrators of the Thomas series are folks like Ringo Starr, Alec Baldwin and George Carlin. That's a win in my book.

- Arlo just finished his first year of "school" with Creative Tots here in Cincinnati. He had a great year and I am pleased with how much his confidence has grown just within the last few months.

- Potty training: Meh. Work in progress.

- Arlo's new favorite song is " Runaway Jim" by Phish.

- We'll be doing the Disney vacation this summer. Not sure if we're ready or not, but I felt like since I've been so busy with school and Geoff with work that a nice Arlo-centered vacation was in order before fall semester starts and bulldozes family time. We'll be visiting with Geoff's brother and his fiance who live in the Orlando area, and Arlo is very excited about this as are Geoff and I.

- Geoff's parents, otherwise known as " Grammaw and Paw-Paw" continue to be a positive, amazing force in Arlo's life. They provide constant, consistent support and love for Arlo and I am so thankful that they are so active in his day-to-day life. I honestly don't know what we would do without them. Words consistently fail me when talking about how important they are to Arlo as well as Geoff and I.

- We've decided ( for now) to stay in our current home and update it instead of moving. School district is great and the locale is superb. If it ain't broke...

- We're all still missing mom and dad. It's hard not to, especially as Arlo gets older and starts asking questions like " Where are Gram and Duke?" and " why can't I go see Gram and Duke?" But I know they are somewhere watching over us, no doubt laughing at my parenting fails and Arlo's hilarious nature. We sold their house to a family with twins- and while I constantly debate my decision to sell, I know it was the right thing to do. Another family needed to inhabit that house and provide it with love and memories, just as my family did.

That's all for now- I hope to write more before the summer ends and fall begins.

Much Love,
Laura Beth

I Made a Playlist

I made an awesome playlist recently, to chronicle my youth in Bowling Green the best way I could. Well, I think it's awesome. I tried to take all the songs that made me think about my youth and put them into one list... and needless to say, it's pretty random. From NKOTB to the Fresh Prince to Weezer to my love of musicals... I think it gives the unknowing listener a very personal glimpse into who I was as a kid/teenager/young adult living in a small southern town. After listening to it for the first time, I started to think about who my influences were as far as who introduced me to certain artists and albums. I realized that at least half of everything I listened to from Jr. High on I began listening to at my best friend's house as we "borrowed" most of her older brother's albums when he was conveniently out of the house, or in the car when he was driving us around town and needed to drown us out. ( I still have no idea why he would want to drown us out. We were/are awesome.)

Pre-Jr. High I think a lot of what I listened to was what my parents were into. I kept the giant German wardrobe thingy that they kept their records and turntable in( thanks for moving that, Craig and Geoff:)). Lots of Simon and Garfunkel, Gordon Lightfoot, Don McClean, James Taylor, Billy Joel, John Denver... and then of course you have the commonplace pre-teen jams by folks like Debbie Gibson, Tiffany, etc... I still remember calling the radio station to request a song so I could record it. Oh, and buying "singles" so I didn't have to buy the whole album.

Big hitters on the list: R.E.M., They Might Be Giants, 10,000 Maniacs, Indigo Girls... These are the bands I hope my son discovers in 10 years or so and asks me " hey mom, did you ever listen to( fill in the blank)." I will proudly shout "YES!" and fervently dig up my antiquated cassette tapes and Cds, and we will spend a weekend soaking in the somewhat angst-ish musical tastes mommy preferred when she was "young".  ( Geoff will have his own weekend in which they listen to Jane's Addiction. I will be out of town that weekend.)

Some of these songs just scream " teenage Laura in age-appropriate boy crisis", and I think it's hilarious. I can still see myself listening to some of these tunes, sitting in my room, wondering how in the world artists such as the Rolling Stones, Simon and Garfunkel, Edie Brickell, the Indigo Girls, and Tori Amos could have written songs that were about MY EXACT SITUATION.

And then there's Steve Winwood.


I love Mr. Winwood. Born from earlier roots of Traffic and Blind Faith, this guy is one of my favorite artists. I saw him play with Ricky Skaggs and KY Thunder in Telluride years ago, and their onstage collaboration of " That's The Way it Is" ( which is STILL not on an album yet :/) was probably THE highlight of my live music sojourn thus far. But his song " Back in the High Life" will forever remind me of living in Bowling Green. I'm pretty sure WKU did a campaign for the college (primarily focusing on the athletic department)that featured this song in a commercial on both the TV and radio... and every time I hear it, I'm transported back. Back to my mom/dad's car, the mall, basketball/football games, Halloween, Christmas, Bowling Green in general. I'm transported back to all of it, into a nice little slide show in my brain.

A good friend of mine also put together a "BG" playlist recently, and although his memories were more focused on Jr. High on, it's funny how many of the same songs/artists we both included without consulting one another beforehand.  It's obvious my friends were very influential on who and what I listened to, and for this I am very thankful. Music makes my life, and this playlist has certainly helped me to remember it fondly.

For Ed, wherever I may find her

I'm lucky.

I'm lucky enough to have not just one, but two people I can truly call my best friend. One of those people is my husband; in the 9.5 years or so we've known each other, he has had a remarkable gift at being not only my partner in love, but also being an honest to goodness companion.

The second person has carried the title of "BFF" for much longer. We first met at a birthday party when we were in the 6th grade. Our first act of friendship was a game of ping pong in a hotel lobby in which most of the balls ended up on the second floor terrace or in the pool-- a very appropriate foreshadowing into our friendship...goofy and genuine... and it was never about what we were doing per say, only that we did it together, whether it be ping pong games, cruising the mall, visiting various tennis courts in town, irritating her older brother to the point he began refusing to drive the two of us anywhere together. As the years went by, we continued to find humor and grace in the world around us and within our friendship. She was the friend who helped me mend my first broken heart and every one since then. She saw me through those difficult teenage years yet still loved me regardless of my neuroses. She was my maid of honor at my wedding, and was there when my son was born. She was there with me when both my parents died( and when I say "there" I don't mean just emotionally. She was literally standing right next to me through it all). A couple of weeks ago she helped me put all my parents' belongings in boxes, which was not an easy task.

I write this because I love her, and I think she's probably the strongest person I know. She deserves to be reminded of what an amazing person she is, and I feel like I need to be better about expressing my gratitude. As the course of our lives continue to change, she is still a constant in my day-to-day despite living 3 hours away. I hope I can be as good a friend to her as she is to me.

Love you Ed.

Home

I've used this quote before, but as I edge close to selling my parents' house and things, I have needed to refer back to these words to help me deal with the internal struggle I've got going on:

" The first thing the word home brings to mind is a place, and the next perhaps most crucial thing is people and maybe utltimately a single person." - Frederick Buechner, The Longing for Home

I know it's just a house. And the things in it are just things. They don't define me, my parents, our memories, our life together... but damn if it doesn't feel like they do. Over the past year or so I've come upon so many "things" in that house that make me feel so connected to them although they aren't physically here anymore. Random stuff-- reading glasses, pocket knives, letters, books... the stories behind all the furniture. Everything had a story, or at least a small ancedote behind it. I'm still learning about many of the things in the house with help from family and friends. My parents took great pride in attempting to lead a graceful and meaningful existence, and I have to say, they did an amazing job, even with all their "stuff".

I can still feel them when I'm in that house. Geoff and I laugh about the phantom noises we sometimes encounter when we're there.... my dad snoring in the living room with the 1987 RCA television blaring sportscenter in the background at 2AM....the ever present clink of ice cubes in the kitchen... my mother guffawing at something on the food network... and the fierce bark of Abbey who usually barked at nothing in particular.

Home, for me, used to be wherever my parents were. Then it became wherever Geoff was. Now it is wherever Arlo and Geoff are... but I'm always searching for that first, initial feeling of home that my parents provided for me... and I guess I feel like selling the house will undoubtedly take that away from me in some way.

A Little More Ground

Things have continued at their busy pace since last I wrote. Graduate school has ended for the summer, and I have a little over 1 more year to go... I ended up with all A's and one B. Turns out I'm not as adept at social policy history as dad was.. but one of the last things he said to me about school was " I hope you get a B. I don't mean to be an ass, but straight A's aren't necessary... you know I'm proud of you, no matter what." I guess he got his wish.:)

Arlo started " school" this summer, and absolutely loves it. No tears, screaming on the first day... just a huge grin that said " I'm ready, momma. And also, I see that they have a train table" and off he went. My father-in-law came with me on that first day since Geoff was working, and I'm convinced the only reason I escaped somewhat emotionally unscathed is because of his presence. That and the train table.

I'll have enough to occupy my brain this summer without school. We're slowly getting my parents' house and it's contents ready to sell/.auction. Who knew old tattered shakertown baskets and ancient wooden wagons would turn a profit? I admit I wanted to scrap most of that stuff. because I thought they were merely decorations. Very glad I've had a team of friends and family to advise me otherwise.

As father's day comes upon us, I realise again what I have lost. There are some moments in which I feel like I can't breathe. Many moments when I want to cry for hours. The anger is also supremely difficult to wade through most days. But I remember what I presently have, which is a knowledge of two amazing, beautiful, graceful and giving individuals who are my parents. I am comforted somewhat. I use the present tense not because I'm horrible with grammar, but because they are STILL my parents, regardless of whether they are with us physically or not. I still show Arlo pictures of them, we still call their house " Gram and Duke's", and he is responsive to this, although I have to say when he says " where gram" but more often " where duke, mama" I get very sad. I don't know what other feeling to have with that.

What I want: to be able to call them both, to say " hey, here's what I did" or " hey, I totally screwed up" and hear their voices say " we love you, we're so proud of you, uncondtionally". The reality, obviously, is that this cannot happen. Yes, I hear it in my heart, but it's not the same. The selling of their house and things is horrendusly hard. It's like I'm selling them, their lives, and their memories. I know this is probably just part of the grief process, but it's how I feel at the moment. It might be different if one of them were still here to help, and although I have a tremendous amount of love and support, and the end of the day, it's a lonely process. Being an only child is not the best position at the moment.

But, things must go on. And I conclude this entry with lyrics to one of my favorite songs that keeps me going when I'm feeling low and helpless:

The wheel is turning and you can't slow down
You can't let go and you can't hold on
You can't go back and you can't stand still
If the thunder don't get you then the lightning will

Won't you try just a little bit harder
Couldn't you try just a little bit more
Won't you try just a little bit harder
Couldn't you try just a little bit more

Round, round, Robin run around
Gotta get back where you belong
Little bit harder, just a little bit more
Little bit further than you gone before

Small wheel turning by the fire and rod
Big wheel turning by the grace of God
Every time that wheel turn round
Bound to cover just a little more ground

Shadows

After putting the baby to bed, I went outside to let the dog out. I had lit a couple of candles on the deck for ambiance and calm. I went over to the edge of the deck to check on Sadie when I noticed my shadow in the reflection of our kitchen window and candles. How large and confident that shadow was. How tall and sure. And that’s when I realized: I want to be my shadow. I long to be my shadow.

Some days are easier than others. Today is in the mediocre category.  I woke up to a cheerful household and personal disposition, yet now after the day is done I am somewhat pensive and wistful. When they say that the death of a loved one is like a roller coaster, however clichéd this might seem, it’s totally true. My proof: My “ Dealing with Death setlist” ( for me anyhow):Wow, What in the World is Going on> Wow, Did That Just Happen?> Wow, That Couldn’t Have Just Happened>Crap,That Did Happen, and Piss on Everything because it did and I have to Deal with it All >That Totally Happened, and I get it, but it Still Sucks.

I think it’s harder for me because I had to do it twice in less than a year’s time with two of my heroes, the people who knew me best and closest to me. Currently with Mom I’m in the “ Crap, That Did Happen” category, and with Dad It’s more of the “ Wow, Did that Just Happen” mentality. Psych folks,  I get the connection to the Kubler-Ross grief model, and while I used to scoff at models dealing with such intimate, situation-specific and personality based emotions, with this one I don’t anymore. It’s right on, although I do inherently believe that folks bounce around the model like being jostled around in a children’s bouncy castle, or at least I have. Once you think you’ve come to a certain point that you can stand and be stable, some force, whether it be an emotional bully or just your own difficulty of the perfection of emotional homeostasis, you can go back to lying helplessly pummeled by outside forces on that rubbery bouncy castle floor very quickly.

One thing I’ve learned over the past year is the importance of help. Not just of having it, but also of asking FOR it. Friends and family are so important, and over the years I have neglected my tight woven net of pals and kinfolk for one reason or another… and now that I need them more than ever, they are here in droves. I am so lucky and fortunate, beyond what I deserve given my horrendous pattern of not communicating with people.  So thank you, folks, and I hope you know who you are.

The anniversary of Mom’s passing is coming upon me. I typed in “us” beforehand and then realized it isn’t an “us” anymore since Dad is now gone as well.... I used to think people who had trouble with anniversaries like this had some thinking to do. “Why haven’t you dealt with it yet” crossed my mind many times… Now that I am in this position… it ain’t what I thought. I remember the smells, sounds of spring… and relate them to last year, mom being in the hospital, me going outside to get some fresh air… I miss her so. And I wish I had Daddy here to help.

Pushing forward… I am still in graduate school to obtain my MSW.  I still have a 4.0.  I went to part time due to the fact that I now have to deal with an entire estate since Daddy passed away.  A few professors at UC have been great at helping me muddle through, glad I got to know them before everything happened, and I’ve made some great friends at school as well.

My inner Laura is slowly channeling the shadow Laura, with the help of family and friends. Thanks and much love to you all.