Category — Friday Blog Roundup

(Yes, you must endure me talking about the White House for at least a few more days so I can buy myself more time in typing up these notes.)

Last Friday, after I got everything set up for the White House visit, I took the kids out sledding.  As the Wolvog was about to go down the hill, he paused and said, “are you going to ask the President if he takes his kids to school?”

I got confused for a moment because I happen to know the middle school principal at the school that the Obama girls attend, and I thought he was referring to that degree of separation between ourselves and the First Family.  I couldn’t comprehend how he even knew about my connection to that principal, especially because it has been a few years since we last emailed together.  The last time we saw each other, I was still pregnant with the twins, so they certainly hadn’t met her either.

“Why would I ask that?” I finally questioned.

“Because that’s his only rule.  He takes his kids to school.  And keeps it cool.”

Guess Fred Armisen makes a very convincing President Obama to a six-year-old.

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The Weekly What If: What if you had to be trapped in an elevator for hours (in a precarious, nerve-wracking situation) with a celebrity or public figure.  Who would you choose and why?

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The Grateful Said will go up this weekend.  And I’m still finishing getting Creme posts onto the list.  Things keep getting thrown off by all of our snow storms.

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And now, the blogs…

I Won’t Fear Love is back with a post about missing a space and missing a person.  About having the calendar turn again and finding yourself facing an anniversary.  But it is the last line that almost killed me: “Four years ago I was still just a pregnant woman.”  Go read the whole post.

Riding the IVF Roller Coaster has a post about being initiated into the fertile club.  She explains how out-of-sorts she feels discussing pregnancy: “I’m not one of them.  I felt so uncomfortable.  I felt on the spot.  It felt so strange to hear these people being so relaxed and almost flippant about procreation. ”  She muses on the people feeling as if they all have something in common when she feels so different from them.

Diary of a Man Infertile Woman has a gorgeous post which brings together a story about trying to get better in gym class with her latest ultrasound which revealed cysts that are benching her this cycle.  It is about fighting a new nemesis that feels very much like your old nemesis.

Lastly, Fierce and Nerdy has a post announcing her pregnancy following IVF that she tries to write three different ways, and finally realizes that all she has to say is an expression of her happiness.  Though, she does a damn fine job also describing the uselessness of worrying.

The roundup to the Roundup: President Obama is still keeping it cool.  Answer the Weekly What If (I’m leaning towards Stephen Colbert — I think he’d be entertaining while trapped and probably deflect the anxiety with humour).  The Grateful Said will go up this weekend.  And lots of great posts to read.

Apparently — I’ve been told — that people don’t care about the DC snow storm.  I’m not sure how this is possible.  How could something that we love to talk about this much be something that is annoying for others to hear?  That’s like telling me that the chocolate bars I love make you feel like someone has taken a dump in your mouth.  Talking about our snow storms is what we do; just as a Jewish mother must feed her children.  You cannot deny Washingtonians this facet of our personalities.

We, first and foremost, need to Tweet whether or not we have power.  It used to be that you knew who didn’t have power merely by the fact that they weren’t on Twitter.  But thanks to technology advancements such as Twitter apps on  phones, we now know EXACTLY who doesn’t have power and who is taking time to Tweet about all the things they are worried that they won’t get done because the power might go out (and because they Tweeted instead of doing them).

Secondly, we need to curse people who can’t drive in snow.  Even if we’re not on the road.  Even if we’re warm in our homes.  We need to think about people who we’ve seen in the past who can’t drive in snow and we need to talk about those people.  We need to write snarky Tweets about them.

Lastly, we need to look at pictures of people having snowball fights in Dupont and we need to then either (1) call them idiots or (2) talk about how we wish we were there.  We need to talk about what we would do if we were the ones throwing the snow balls.  We need to talk about how we pack the snow just so in order to have the snow ball do maximum damage when thrown against the back of a coat.

If you deny us talk of snow, we literally can’t function.  We are unable to come up with any other topic of discussion even if there were 3000 things we wanted to discuss the moment before the first flakes started to fall.  Our minds go as blank and white as … well … the landscape outside.

Hence why I am writing right now about snow.

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Instead of the Weekly What If: Since I am waiting for my new shoes to arrive, I want to hear about the best shoes you’ve ever owned.  Describe please, as well as where you got them (or the best place you wore them).

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Next week, The Grateful Said goes up.  So far, it rocks.  It could rock even harder if you participate too.  All you have to do is honour one comment that was left on your blog.  It will go up next Tuesday and remain open for entries until the end of February.

And yes, I have big plans to plow through the rest of the Creme de la Creme list this weekend.  Will post whenever I update.

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And now, the blogs…

The Unfair Struggle raced in the US Nationals for speedskating last weekend and wrote about it on her blog.  I love her description of the camaraderie that exists amongst speedskaters, but I also love that she gave us a window into that world.  That she let us onto the ice with her.  And I think that it’s amazing that I read a speedskater’s blog.

The Unbroken World has a post comparing infertility to a show that nobody comes to see.  She writes: “Infertility is a state of being, always simultaneously in the background of your life and surrounding it like a vapor. It hangs above you and around you like the stillness of an empty theater, and as much as you describe it to someone, they can picture it but they can’t understand the complex spiderweb of feelings that form it unless they’ve been there.”  The entire post is a gorgeous analogy and for anyone who has ever created art — truly, any form of art — they will nod their way through this saying, “absolutely; I see.”

On the three year anniversary of the death of Zoe, Our Own Creation wrote a beautiful post about missing one daughter while raising another.  It is a brief, sweet post, and this thought made me cry: “It is because of you that I remember to take the time to be in the moment with her. Dishes can wait; laundry will still be there later; this minute in her life only comes once.”

Lastly, Things Get If’fy had a post that made me laugh.  Especially since I sucked in my breath before I clicked over.

The roundup to the Roundup: What?  Don’t you love it when Washingtonians speak about snow?  Answer the Instead of the Weekly What If.  Submit to The Grateful Said.  And lots of good posts to read.

Happy IComLeavWe.

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I am not a fan of clothing shopping, mostly because I am not a fan of clothes.  Which makes me sound like a nudist, but I’m more of the living-in-sweatpants non-fashionista type.  Yet I needed pants, so I went to the mall to hit the clothing stores that hadn’t let me down in the past.

And I looked hideous.  First of all, most of the stores didn’t have petites in stock so I was trying on regular sizes and they looked ridiculous on me.  The jeans extended a good 8 inches past my foot.  And the jeans that fit best STILL looked hideous (they were just less hideous than the others).  So I went home empty-handed which pissed me off because I don’t like to go shopping in the first place and now I still had no pants and I had wasted my time.

The next day, the four of us went to a different mall and I swung into LL Bean.  And perhaps y’all knew about their curvy line, but I did not know about their curvy line (due to the fact that I try to avoid all clothing stores).  Basically, they took  their normal items and made them fit curvy short people.

And I seriously wanted to kiss the elderly woman hanging up discarded clothes in the dressing room because I had felt like total crap about myself the day before and now finally felt pretty.  I ended up buying two pairs of jeans, 1 pair of cords, and 2 pairs of velvet pants.

And now, I don’t have to go shopping again for another 7 years.

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Instead of the Weekly What If: What is your favourite article of clothing that you own?

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Here’s a little technical conundrum that maybe someone has a solution.  Every month, I need to send out two big group emails (between 150 and 200 people) for IComLeavWe.  The list changes every month.

Gmail will not let me send out an email to more than 20 people.  When I do, it  refuses delivery and sends me a warning.  I need to figure out a way to send a big group email to a list that changes monthly.

So far, my only solution is to create a Google Group for IComLeavWe.

Any other suggestions?

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And now, the blogs…

Shauna wrote this post last week, but I didn’t read it until last Friday, so … I’m including it.  And beyond that, the follow up happened this week.  She writes so eloquently, “Enough: I don’t want to live like that anymore. And enough: I have enough. I have more than I need, more than I could ask for… It’s not wrong to want another baby…but there’s a fine line in there, and I feel I’ve crossed it a few times this winter.”  They are both gorgeous posts on weathering friendship when infertility bumps up against a pregnant belly.

Serenity Now has a post about pre-transfer anxiety.  She explains: “Because I feel guilty for wanting something more than I have, and am putting myself, my health, my family through this in order to have it.”  I love the end of this post, mostly because despite having those thoughts, in both running and life, she still pushes on.

Lastly, Bakery Closed Until Further Notice has a post about marriage.  I loved this exercise: “But since I cannot force Doug to think like me – because I think so quickly and in such a forward-moving spiral, a pattern which has inherent problems of its own – perhaps, she suggested, I should try to think like Doug.”  Isn’t that brilliant?  Her point about earning stillness spoke volumes to me.  I know it was her therapy session, but I got a lot out of it too due to the clear, concise writing that brought me straight into the moment.

The roundup to the Roundup: I finally found pants that fit.  Answer the Instead of the Weekly What If.  Please help solve my email conundrum.  And lots of great posts to read.

This was a crap-assy week that started with Josh being assigned to a multi-month trial at jur.y d.uty (because this is soooooooooo our luck) and ended with our bouncey ball pit popping.  For those who have been to our house and know the said ball pit, they can attest that it is the heart of our playextravaganza.  I thought we’d grow old with that thing.  And I had just promised it to my BIL when the twins were done with it — their daughter loved this thing hardcore.  So I was in tears when it popped.  I know the tears were more for the frustration that was this week as well as the fact that I didn’t want this to be the way that era ended.  Josh and I stayed up last night trying to tape this thing back together.  And when I came down this morning, it was deflated again.

It was ridiculous, but the ball pit popping felt like the last straw.

Actually, the last straw was after we stopped working on it, Josh picked up the air pump and the sharp end of it swung up and hit me straight in the middle of my glasses lens.  It was plenty painful, but if I hadn’t been wearing my glasses, it could have been a trip to the emergency room.  That one was really the last straw.  I’m ready to end this week and start a new one.

Anyone else want to say “fuck all” to this week?

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Weekly What If: What if you could remove one date from the calendar?  Everyone would know that date once existed, but now it’s gone.  Would you remember someone by removing their birthday, making everyone mindful of their existence?  Would you get rid of  day that has bad memories attached?  What would you do?

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I am beyond excited about the Grateful Said (thank you texacali/mexicali girl!).  Pretty much as excited as I was for the Creme de la Creme.  It is very moving to see which words you left on a post meant so much to the other person that they highlighted them on the list.  Two weeks until the Grateful Said is live (February 1st), and then it will continue to be open for submissions through February.  We’ll have it go hand-in-hand with the Creme next year.

I know you’re probably struggling with this one because you have more than one comment that means the world to you.  But the point is not to drive yourself crazy, but instead to simply choose one and celebrate the almighty comment.  What else sends a message to the world that comments are important than celebrating them with their own list?  And this is a great way to publicly say thank you to the other person.

We all know that your other comments mean a lot to you too; that this was just one of many that touched you.  So take this weekend to scroll back and find one that you want to show to the world.

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And now, the blogs…

Searching for The Missing Piece has a post about being the last person to reach parenthood.  It piqued my interest because I currently have The Hunger Games as next up in my to-read list.  She writes, “Lately, I’ve been feeling like that victor.  The last one standing.  However, it’s not that everyone else has died, but has gone on to become parents.  They’ve gotten out of the games.  We’ve all endured the challenges that years of infertility brings. They may not include poisonous gas or bees that cause hallucinations, but the lasting scars can be just as deep.”  She worries about posting these thoughts, but I find them very honest and very thoughtful.  And helpful for others to hear.

Finding a New Normal has a post about finding an old slip of paper from a fortune cookie.  I won’t spoil the post by telling you what the fortune said (hint: click over and find out), but I hope that she frames it and places it in that not-yet baby’s room one day.

Lastly, I really like Infertility Unexplained’s thoughts on the latest rash of infertility news; from the twiblings to sex selection via IVF.  She writes, “But as I read Thernstrom’s story I realized that what she is doing is rewriting the fairy tale birth story that many women (and some men) invent before we start trying to conceive (or like, when we’re 8 and playing house and then again as young feminists reading Our Bodies, Ourselves), before we know anything about infertility–the fairytale we realize we must grieve when we can’t get pregnant on our own, and then grieve again when fertility treatments fail. She is rewriting this fairytale for her children, and herself, so that her children will understand and value their birth story.”  Go over to read her thoughts on both stories.

The Weekly What If: I’m having a crappy week, are you?  Answer the Weekly What If.  Have you submitted a comment for the Grateful Said yet?  And lots of great posts to read.

I love delurking week.  I love seeing the people who crawl out of the woodwork and those who I knew were here but still take the time to wave.  Thank you for being here.  Thank you for letting me know about you.

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Wednesday night into Thursday was Befana Day.  I write about it every damn year.

What?  You don’t command a perfect memory of my blog and remember the story I told y’all last Befana Day (which I swear to haShem is a real holiday).

Fine, gather around and I’ll tell it again.

Many years ago, my friend and I were in Italy in the winter and we were staying at a fantastic 12th century palazzo overlooking the site where Dante’s wife was born. The tradition of this particular hotel was to have guests sign this huge guestbook with a small story about themselves and then you could read back who stayed in your room before you.  We were sitting in the living room with the Miranda, the hotel owner’s daughter, reading the book and discussing some other hotel-goers who had particularly noisy sex, when we mentioned that we were going to San Gimignano the next day.

Miranda told us that we wouldn’t be able to get there because the trains wouldn’t run.  It was January 6th, otherwise known as Befana Day.  What’s Befana Day, we asked, and this is the first version of the story:

Once there was a woman named Befana. She was cooking and cleaning and just trying to get through her day when three men came to her house and asked directions to Bethlehem. They told her that a baby had been born who was G-d in human form and they asked if she wanted to come with them to see the new baby. Befana said no because she thought she had already used up too much time giving them directions and she went back to her cleaning and cooking.

A little while later, she thought about how she had just missed this amazing opportunity because she had been so focused on this end goal of having the house clean and dinner cooked. She ran out of the house with her broom and apron and tried to find the three travelers (who were, of course, the three wise men). Befana still goes from house to house to this day, trying to find the baby and leaves gifts and candy at each house she visits.

But there’s a second version, one that might touch closer to home:

Befana was an old woman who was finally a mother after many many years of infertility. The king learned that a baby would be born who would be G-d in human form and he ordered all baby boys to be murdered. Her son was killed in front of her but in her grief, she refused to accept the loss. Instead, she piled together all the things she had made for him, all the hope she had infused into these tangible items while she waited for him, and went out wandering around the world with this sack on her back.

One night, she came to a manger and in her grief, she thought she had found her son who she believed to be lost rather than dead. She placed these items in the manger and the baby’s family saw how deeply this woman grieved from not having her child that they named her Befana, the giver of gifts and gave her a special blessing. One night out of the year, she is a mother to all of the children in the world. On that night, she travels from home to home, leaving presents for children, to remind them how much they are wanted.

I’m not sure how much I love this second version of the story which plays into all the stereotypes of crazy grieving mothers, but there is a part of me that connects with Befana and her grief; much in the same way Fertile Hope eloquently stated her new and strange relationship to Michelle Duggar.  Befana, as she says, is my people.

Befana brought the Wovlog a robot that he named Robo (which stands for Really Odorous Bat Orifices) which took Josh and the Wolvog forever to put together and now races around our kitchen.  And she brought the ChickieNob a Rapunzel doll.  And both kids got candy galore.  And a request from Befana (since one comes every year) that they always remain close.  All in all, it was a nice Befana Day.

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The Weekly What If: what would you want Befana to bring you this year.  Must be something inanimate that can fit in a shoe or on top of a picture of a shoe.

I am still bucking for an iPad, but the saucy minx didn’t bring me one.

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In case you didn’t hear about this yet, Susan Niebur at Toddler Planet (with help from Sue at Laundry for Six) has started a new project bringing lymphedema sleeves to people suffering from lymphedema after surgery (many women who have mastectomies experience lymphedema).  I just think it’s a great project that has very quickly exploded into enormousness.  Plus, Susan is this amazingly wonderful person, a provider of Enfamil coupons and lover of science.  If you haven’t gotten involved yet, run don’t walk.

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And now, the blogs…

Near the 5 year anniversary of trying to build her family, Waiting for a Baby Bump reflects on the journey to that moment.  She brilliant writes, “Infertility can only be a stranger for so long and then it comes back front and center like that damn PMS zit.”  But it’s a beloved children’s author who makes a surprise appearance in this post (as well as some of his immortal words) that should make you click over immediately.

On the Lanai has a post about a strange maybe-prophecy from a sister who was not only predicted into existence, but has also had an uncanny ability to foreshadow other things.  I hope her words come true.

Lastly, I really loved this post by My Rotten Eggs about the comments she has received as of late.  While I’ve gotten the first one, I’ve never actually had someone say the second one to me.  Go over and share your favourite thing that has been said to you recently.

The roundup to the Roundup: thank you for delurking.  It was Befana Day.  Answer the Weekly What If.  Susan Niebur’s new lymphedema sleeves project.  And lots of great blogs to read.

Still adding (a lot) to the Creme de la Creme, so check back this weekend.