My Jenn-eration

I swear that I didn’t make this up. This was how the conversation started, seemingly out of nowhere, as I drove the kids to school this morning. Dylan:   “Hey Mom – do you know where all the magic in the world comes from?” Me: “No, where?” Dylan: “It comes from Heaven. All the magic in the world comes from Heaven.” Can you imagine? How brilliant, how genius, how perceptive and amazing and simple of a statement from a 5 year old thinking only about pajama day at school and pancakes for lunch and knowing nothing about the chaos and darkness that me and everyone else has been feeling and hiding from him for the past week since we first learned about Sandy Hook. I haven’t written about what happened there yet. I haven’t wanted to nor have I been able to. But if this blog is anything at all, it is to be an accurate reflection and extension of me and where I’m at. And if I’m anywhere, truthfully I’m still stuck there. I’m drowning in this juxtaposition of Christmas time and ...

5:22: Everyone is screaming. Dylan throws a plastic bug at Ruby and it bounces off her bulbous head. 5:23: Ruby screaming very loudy. 5:24: I frantically chop vegetables no one will eat in the hope that their dazzling color and the dubious Mayan predictions will somehow combine to make them try them tonight. 5:25: Timer goes off on the nuggets. Fish is almost done. Phil will not eat nuggets. Ruby will not eat fish. Dylan will eat everything. I prepare as many different meals as possible. I’d like to see Rachel Ray do that in 30 minutes or less. 5:28: Hand-washing. Ruby and Dylan fight over who will wash their hands first. I stare at them blankly for some reason forgetting to remind them that we have something like 4 sinks in the house. I set the table with our finest rainbow colored plastic cutlery. Also, for another reason I can’t quite explain, I forget the napkins. 5:29: I open the wine. 5:30: We sit down to dinner sans Phil. Though intellectually I know this d...

It is so hard to believe another year has nearly gone by and soon, Dylan and Ruby’s birthdays will be upon us. Though they technically share different birth dates, I went into labor with each of them on the same date, exactly two years apart. For that reason, December 14 th will forever by my official labor day. I know their birthdays are technically about them but now as a parent I literally feel a near uncontrollable urge to scream and shout every year at this time: “Where is my cake? My balloon? Why is no one clapping and cheering for me?! Do you know what my body accomplished on this date 5 and 3 years ago respectively?!” Reluctantly, I let the children have their days while I silently reflect on how this day literally marks the anniversary of the last day it was ever all about me. It was December 14, 2007. I had been in labor and delivery for two days while the hospital tried everything they medically could think of to start my labor. It was a Friday and I had been on an all l...