The call of shame

Last week I completely forgot to take Louie to his vet appointment, a make-up appointment for one I had to cancel.  I got a somewhat irritated message on my machine ("I don't know what happened, but you didn't come for your scheduled appointment. Please call and schedule another.  It's important that he's seen regularly." ).  Because I don't love using the phone (and especially when the other person is irritated with me), I waited until this Tuesday to call and make another appointment. As soon as I said my name, the receptionist knew who I was.  

"Oh yes, Louie's owner.  I have you right here." (translation=you are on our black list now).

I apologized profusely and tried to be charming.

Maybe it worked, maybe not.  But she offered me an appointment at 3:45 that afternoon.

"Great!  I'll be there."

That evening, we're having dinner and I look down at Louie.  I've looked at him all day but that particular glance reminds me.  Oh my WORD. I forgot to go to the appointment today. 

What kind of person can't remember to go to an appointment she has made that very day? One who is losing her mind, that's who.  They didn't even bother to call and leave an annoyed message.  If I was on the black list before, now I was on the outer darkness list.

So it had to be done.  The call of shame.  To make a THIRD make-up appointment for my dog in less than a week.  Was the frosty reception on the other end of the line my imagination? No.  I oozed humility and shame and apology.  We made the appointment and I could tell the receptionist was thinking "I won't hold my breath."  Ugh.  So it's come to this: I'm that person now.

Side story: When Lauren was 4 or 5, we went on a road trip.  Greg worked at a crazy-hours DC law firm so every stitch of the packing was left to me.  And the food for the car ride. And the entertaining games and coloring books.  And the beach toys.  We finally got in the car and were about an hour into the trip when Lauren asked "did you bring Pink Bear?"  I slapped my forehead.  "Oh, Pink Bear!  No, honey, I forgot.  I'm sorry."  Silence for a moment.  Then Lauren piped up "Geez, Mom, can't you even remember two things?"  Of course, it did no good to explain that I had actually remembered 10,497 things and had forgotten one.   

So, of course, here I am again.  The vet thinks I can't even remember two things.  But I want to make a copy of my calendar and bring it in and say "look here...these are all the appointments I did remember this week!  This is everything I'm keeping track of, so if I blew off the 5-minute shot appointment, I'm sorry.  But I'm really actually quite dependable."  

Instead, Project Help Mom Remember was instituted, a shock-and-awe reminder system. Maddy made a sign for the fridge LOUIE VET 9:30 TODAY.  Lauren texted me at 9 "remembr Louie 9:30."  Greg called from work.  Everything short of a string around my finger. Mission accomplished!

We will be off to the land of...

...pasta, bread, gelato, Galileo, Michelangelo, and naked statues.  Ciao, Italia!

Why, you ask?

~ when G started his new job this year, we decided to set aside the signing bonus for a family trip because...

~ when we first got married we decided to try to value experiences over things.  To love the old clunker cars but make memories.  Plus...

~ we feel the clock ticking as Lauren has only two and a half more years of high school until she leaves for college.  There's so much we want to still do as a family (before everyone splinters off to their own lives) so we decided to do our best to tackle one or two items on the list.

~ G's company closes during Christmas week.  Perfect time for travel but...

~ it was too expensive to fly somewhere warm and beachy...airline tickets alone would have eaten up the entire travel budget.  Thankfully...

~ a few months ago we found a great deal on flights to Italy, leaving on Christmas Day (cheaper even than flying to Florida) so we booked them, which was thrilling because...

~ we've always wanted to go to Italy. Part adventure, part culture, part eating extravaganza, part history lesson. To top it all off...

~ we invited my parents to come along if they wanted.  They wanted.  Three cheers for a three generation trip to Florence and Venice.

It's going to be chilly, not that warm, basking holiday we were originally thinking about.  And the economy's current condition (and the weak dollar abroad) means we'll have to be very careful.  But...we're doing it.  Gulp.  Decision's made and we're embracing it.

Thank you for all the guesses.  I had a grand time imagining going to each and every one of them.  In fact, I think the people have spoken and now we HAVE to go to Prague, Aruba, British Virgin Islands, England (twice), Scotland, Ireland, Denmark (several times), Mexica, Guatemala, Holland, France, and Cyprus.  How many times do you think G can change jobs and get a signing bonus????

Liz, you nailed it! Email me your address and keep an eye on your mailbox.

*Italy pictures via Flickr.

Everyday life: Tuesday/Wednesday edition

I'm enjoying the chance to look around and capture everyday moments this week.  Even if it's boring for everyone else, it will be nice to have it recorded for posterity :).  Clockwise from top left: Sam reading~ Louie enjoying his daily peanut butter treat~Young Women campfire last night~ toast and cocoa breakfast on a cold rainy morning~waiting for Sam outside of his piano lessons (with my ipod and library books)~stop sign I drive past every day~our neighborhood library~driving home from Cambridge~dinner prep: Lauren and Maddy setting table~and (center) the usual backpack and shoes drop-off spot (though this is just Sam's contribution so, imagine if you will, this times 3).

This week has kind of been a rollercoaster.  For you, too?  Even though I keep telling him not to, G keeps checking our 401K balance sheet and phones me from work with the grim updates. It makes me sad. And frustrated. Then my interview went great and they offered me the teaching job. So I will be teaching a human development class at Boston University next semester.  Wahoo!  Then I got an email the next morning that, due to the economy, BU has instituted a hiring freeze.  Boo. I'm waiting to see if that affects my plans. Que sera, sera, right? At the same time, we are really excited about a Christmas trip we are planning in lieu of giving each other presents.  I love looking forward to a trip.  We have already bought our tickets but the economy rollercoaster takes a little of shine off of the travel anticipation. Then, at the end of the day when everyone's home and we're all together and just reading on the couch or having dinner, I feel better.  We're healthy, we're relatively happy, we try hard. 

See what I mean? Roller coaster. 

So every time I go through the intersection right by our house, I see the stop sign in the picture above and smile.  Usually I'm not a big fan of graffiti but this one cheers me up.  What kind of graffitti-er paints encouraging messages?  An out-of-work Hallmark card writer?  A rogue life coach gone off the deep end? Don't stop believing (or b-levn), guys! 

Happy Monday

What a weekend.  Lots of rain.  I started out with high hopes but immediately realized they were going to have to be put on hold when I started having blacked out vision:  my sure sign of a looming migraine.  Sure enough, I spent the next 7 hours in a dark room with my head between pillows but amazingly it resolved pretty quickly and by early evening I was back in family life again.  Thanks to G, who was so solicitous and tender and took over everything that day instead of our usual divide and conquer weekend technique. 

We ended the weekend with a family viewing of Monty Python and the Holy Grail.  We were checking to see if the kids knew what the Holy Grail was and when we reminded them, they said eagerly "See! It IS a Sunday movie!"    Good old Roger the Shrubber and Brave Sir Robin and your-father-smelt-of-elderberries.  And so another generation enters the Monty Python hilarity club.

I usually dread Mondays a bit but today I'm feeling recharged and ready for a new week: two days of classes, the kids home tomorrow for Rosh Hashanah, an interview at a big university here to teach a human development graduate course next semester (panic. breathe. panic. play big. just try. what am I doing? just push past your comfort zone), Young Women activities on Wednesday and Saturday, more stripping of wallpaper (I say the word wallpaper like Seinfeld said Newman. It's my nemesis),  and just good old life.  

For a little fun sprinkled in the week, I've decided to take Ali's challenge of photo-documenting it with shots of real life.  There's a week in the life flickr group here.  You can join in {do!} or just take a peek. {These photos above were taken this morning in the parking lot at Tufts before class.  Oh, my poor bitten fingernails.  They're the first thing I see when I look at these photos.}  

~~~~~~

I'm heart tender today.

My dear friend Laura lost her son yesterday, a beautiful 12-year-old boy named Christoph. He lived a joyful life, thanks most especially to the love and comfort-giving of his parents.

I remember sitting with Laura on the Mall in Washington DC.  Our mock trial team had won state in the spring of our high school senior year and we were there to compete in nationals. We were planning our fabulous lives, where we would be cosmopolitan women and change the world.  With marriage and children somehow tucked in there, but later.

A few years later we were both married and pregnant, I with my second daughter and she with her first son. She had married her dashing German sweetheart and they were living in the beautiful town of Konstanz, right near a lake nestled up against Switzerland.  She was living that cosmopolitan life: working as an editor in Germany and, as I remember, competing on a water-skiing team (Laura is spunky like that.  For as long as I can remember, Laura has been my ideal of an enthusiastic, optimistic life lover.  I wanted to be just like her.)

Christoph was born with multiple and profound disabilities.  G and I visited them in Konstanz a few years later and I remember we were inspired by their positive and joyful approach to life with Christoph. Dirk had constructed special hanging swings in the living room and rebuilt their minivan to be a traveling crib for him (the first of countless projects he undertook for Christoph's comfort).  They loved taking him on adventures, tickling his back, laying him in the grass on their backyard.  Life continued, it was just different.  They wholeheartedly embraced being Christoph's parents.

They eventually moved to the States, near Laura's family, and had three more children.  Each time I visit I go away filled with inspiration and appreciation for the quality of their lives.  It hasn't been easy + they have had more than their share of challenges. (Sometimes I go away just pleading that they will not. have. any. more. challenges.) But their life seemed distilled to the essence of what really matters: the back tickling, swinging in the back swing, singing, giggling with each other, loving.  He had manymanymany hospitalizations and seizures and surgeries but he was constantly cloaked in a blanket of love and hope.

Today when Laura emailed the news, she said  "We are devastated but we know he is finally free."  I guess I just wanted to give tribute to Laura today for being the kind of mother she is.  I don't think there was a moment in Christoph's life when he didn't feel loved.  That is extraordinary to me.

I still want to be just like Laura.