Taking a break from wrapping hamantaschen…

A dear friend wrote recently about her desire to throw in the towel on a writing project feeling as if she was banging her head against the wall way too much for it to be healthy and productive (hey, sweetie!). A small shift brought her to a different path–a happier path–and it reminded me of a quote I read on Yael Naim’s website recently:

“It’s a dream I almost gave up on along the way,” says Yael Naim about her first album released by Tôt ou Tard. Without meeting the multi-instrumentalist David Donatien, to whom she dedicated two years and who illuminated the artist with his talents as arranger and director, it’s true that this project would have been forgotten at the back of a cupboard.

Of course, she is now known as the new MacBook Air girl with her single, “New Soul,” serving as the background music as the new computer slips out of the envelope.

I am not the fan of ideologies that tell you to keep trying until you reach your dreams–I think there are times when the process is too unhealthy and not worth the end-goal–nor do I enjoy hearing someone preach that anything is possible. Because, we know all too well that some things are impossible. Or not realistically possible.

But I do believe in letting go of the specifics around a goal and accepting it in a new shape or form. There is beauty in all other choices too–but sometimes we are so focused on our original plan that we fail to notice the adornments around our own possible Plan Bs, even if we can recognize the beauty in that option for a person besides ourselves.

I believe in reshifting dreams until the end-goal is within reach and I think we often do that by stepping off of a current path and moving instead to one with equal but different obstacles. And sometimes that reshifting is all we need to achieve what we’ve been desiring, though we never know the success of the current shift until that goal is met. It is hard sometimes to see if the next path is working until it works; if it is worth waiting out or whether another shift would be a better use of time and emotional capital.

And I do like a good success story that comes from a person who has shifted several times to meet her end goal, especially one that includes an Israeli singer who is currently my background music as I paint and sew Purim costumes. In a bad bad week for the Jews with Mr. Spitzer and the Israeli pimp, it is nice to also create the counterbalance with Yael Naim.

So if you are craving a rebirth; needing a change; staring at the next path and wondering if it is a better path:

What if you were traveling on the Interstate during a rain storm with poor visibility and you noticed an 18-wheeler that was tailgating several cars. It switched from lane to lane and road on the ass of each car. At one point, you were riding alongside this truck and you could tell that there was maybe 1 1/2 car lengths between it and the car in front of it. And all vehicles on the road were going over 60 miles per hour.

Would you call the truck company and report the driver, knowing that his behaviour could easily kill someone one day? Would you chalk up the bad driving to the weather and not make the phone call because no one was injured but the damage to that driver’s life (and subsequently, anyone else who depends on him) could be enormous if he were to lose his job?

What would you do?

You know when you need to write about something that you’re having a difficult time putting into words and you end up walking away from the computer several times and wandering through the kitchen and coming back to the screen. And the words still don’t come easily. Tina and I have been talking about an idea.

It is about the loss rocking our community as of late.

The Buddhist in me has rewritten her personal 8-fold path to include perfect inclusivity (which one of Siddharta’s steps I chucked out to make room for inclusivity shall remain nameless). I hate the idea of anyone ever feeling outside the circle; and perhaps that comes from having spent time outside the circle in other areas of life–it hurts to be excluded. It hurts to be forgotten. It hurts to see other people receiving support that you are not receiving when you need it just as badly. It hurts to want to be included and have a clique nudge you out intentionally. It hurts just as badly when the community nudges you out unintentionally. The Buddhist in me kept perfect intention. Even with that mindfulness comes mistakes. I’ve left people out before.

The answer, of course, is not to stop giving support if you can’t give it to everyone but to simply gather greater reserves and support everyone. There are so many places in life where we can’t bring a lolly to the whole group, but with support, we can delve into a limitless space and come back with small words, a show of solidarity, a visual reminder that we are thinking about the person.

There are places on the Web and within brick-and-mortar communities where lost lives are remembered. But we don’t have a space where we remember our own. And what Tina and I discussed this week was two-fold: (1) the idea of someone ever feeling left out because they’re not receiving the same support another person in the community received and (2) we are in this unique space to remember because we follow a person’s story as intimately as is possible over the Internet (and, of course, a person shares only what they wish to share so we can never pretend to know the full story) from before the cycle begins through the death. And that, frankly, is an honour. It’s an honour to be there as witness to those intentions and wishes and life. It is an honour to be present as someone processes their feelings after the death of a partner or parent or sibling.

The idea of memory, of bearing witness, is an integral part of modern Judaism and it is something that informs my focus. I never want an intention and wish and life forgotten. And it is a burden to be the sole person remembering. These people are our own–insofar as a community can exist connected only by computers. But I’ve seen people step out from behind the computer and met so many of the people I read about through their blog. So perhaps my definition is skewed because everyone I read is very real to me–whether I’ve met them yet or not. And I have full faith and conduct my reading as if I will meet them one day.

This is all a long way of introducing the idea of creating this space that Tina eloquently wrote about on her blog yesterday. And everyone who wishes to participate can weigh in with their thoughts. The idea would be to create a single candle image that comes without words that could link back to a single space to honour all the lives–children, partners, parents, siblings–that are lost within our community. Please click over after the Roundup and read the ideas she has pulled together and weigh in with your own thoughts.

The somewhat mangy baseball cap has produced a name, belched out into my hand much in the same way the Goblet of Fire announces people in Harry Potter. The most randomly picked blogger is…AMS of Our Own Creation. I know I could say this about many of the people who entered their name, but Allison could use a little sweetness right now. And it’s nice to know who I am confectionarying for as I make candy this weekend. Congratulations, Allison!

Lastly, Pee-Sticks and Stones had a post titled “When My Heart Way Young (and My Ovaries Were Even Younger) ” about receiving an email from an old boyfriend. She wrote: “Strangely, though, it’s less about him and more about me. A mix of both sweet longing and sad regret for my 14 year-old self. The hormonally-charged, naive girl taking that first step into womanhood… Not to mention it was a time when sex was totally for fun—and I used three forms of contraception every time because I was terrified some stray sperm was going to turn me into a teen pregnancy statistic. It’s so weird to realize how far away that time of my life has become.” The post will make you dig up old photos of yourself.

To roundup the Roundup: Allison, claim your prize; community, weigh in on Tina’s blog; and from me–a good weekend and hopefully sunny skies wherever you are.

There are many advantages gained by being a member of the Order of the Plastic Uterus–you kick back once a month or more with a group of extremely cool women who understand the need for a good piece of chocolate and a strong drink. You never have to code your words or pretend to be happy. It is a space where you can literally let your hair down and on the hair front, it is a monthly reminder to wax my eyebrows.

I thought about this on Tuesday morning and made myself an appointment for Wednesday afternoon.

A few minutes after I made the appointment, I had a sudden wave of nausea, ran into the bathroom and vomited so violently that I broke the blood vessels in my face. It looked as if a manic graphic artist had made 1000 dots across my face with a red rapidograph pen.

And your next thought was my first thought. I am a vomiter by nature. I vomit early and often. And it is usually my only sign of pregnancy–I vomited within days of implantation on four out of five pregnancies. And I vomit right until the finish line–I was still vomiting the day I delivered the twins. I think I may be a little hormonally sensitive because I also sometimes vomit with the trigger shot. Vomiting is not necessarily a sign of pregnancy for me because it is not an unusual occurrence in my world. Perhaps it is best explained as not every vomiting incident signals pregnancy, but every pregnancy contains vomiting incidents.

There is also the problem with what is considered “late” in my world insofar as peeing on a stick. Without drugs, my LP ranges from seven days until ten. I ovulated around the 30th, which meant Tuesday was 11dpo. Long for me, but not long by normal standards. Should I test? Should I save that one precious stick for another occasion (what kind of occasion, I don’t know. I mean, this is the reason to use a peestick; to determine pregnancy)? In my head, I knew there was no chance to get pregnant without some lovely drugs but my heart, that bitch, kept reminding me about a friend with old, cruddy ovaries who got pregnant on her own between IVF cycles.

I peed.

It was white.

I sat there for a few minutes in case it changed its mind.

It didn’t.

I went downstairs and went back to work. Other than the vomiting incident and my newly freckled face, I felt completely fine. A half hour later, the cramps started. A few minutes after that, the deluge.

Well played, hoohaahooterus, well played.

There remained the question of whether I needed the eyebrow appointment in light of the burst blood vessels. Was there a purpose to grooming and having gorgeous eyebrows when the only thing people could focus on were the 1000 red dots like a miniature fire ant orgy? I kept the appointment, hoping the damage would fade by Sunday when the Order of the Plastic Uterus got together for midday pina coladas and shoe shopping. And if not, this post at least serves as an explanation so people don’t need to nervously laugh as I sit down at the table saying, “Mel, is that a new look? Are measles the new Botox?”

Nope, just a good, old-fashioned, you’re-not-pregnant-but-you’ll-waste-a-peestick-anyway round of vomiting.

I meant what I said, and I said what I meant
I’m giving away candy one hundred percent
And I know it is wet and the sun is not sunny
But a random Purim gift is both good fun and funny

Can you tell that we went with a Dr. Suess theme for this year?

Each year, our Purim baskets have a theme. Last year, it was hard drinking, and the card came with a quote from a Purim drinking song (St. Patrick’s Day has nooooooooooooothing on Purim drinking. Noooooooooooooooooothing). This year, in honour of the leap-month year (remember, two Adars) we grabbed Thing Two and Thing One from the Cat in the Hat and went with a two-tastes theme. Every cookie and candy has something complicated going down.

There are Coffee Toffee: a coffee-based dark brown sugar toffee enrobed in dark chocolate (bitter meets sugary); Thing One and Thing Two Caramels: chocolate caramels with sea salt (salty meets sweet); Sweetzles: pretzels dipped in white chocolate (smooth meets crunchy); Mr. Mippie’s Chocolate Chippies: tri-chocolate chip cookies (a bonus taste! Three kinds of chocolate in one); Horton’s Hamantashen: black cherry hamantaschen (sour meets sweet); and Dr. Suess’s Two Taste Blend: a cinnamon Columbian roast (mellow meets sharp)–which Lindsay can vouch is insanely good since we all commented on each other’s drinking habits “damn, we never have a second cup at home.”–and comes in both decaf or caffeinated blends depending on where you are in your cycle.

And that doesn’t even cover the last minute contenders that will be added to the mishloach manot list this week as I get ahead in the candy making and decide to stress myself out more by adding more work to the list. There is a butterfinger-like peanut butter based candy that I am playing around with at some point. And after watching Unwrapped last night, I asked Josh if I should try to work cayenne pepper into chocolate somewhere (spicy meets sweet). Cayenne truffles? For those vomiting a little in their mouth, there’s a place in Madison that serves chocolate ice cream with cayenne pepper in it and it is so good.

In honour of MLO’s blogoversary give-away a few weeks ago (which I won), I’ve decided to pay-it-forward and give away one of my Purim baskets. And, of course, since community is my defining noun, there is a connective element to the prize. More on that in a second.

I’m going to draw a name out of a hat (literally, one of Josh’s nasty baseball caps) on March 14 and announce the winner in the Roundup. And then I’ll send the basket on March 17 (if you are reading this after 11:59 p.m. on March 13th, still add your thoughts below, but you can’t win the basket). You will need to give me a place to send it (it will probably arrive on a Wednesday so you can have it sent to home or work) so if you’re squeamish about giving an address, you can pass along the gift to another person (don’t place addresses in the comment section–I only need it if you win). If you don’t have a blog and you don’t plan on checking the Roundup, leave a way to contact you with your comment. Actually, leave a way to contact you period so we can discuss food allergies and aversions so I don’t send you something you hate. If we’ve ever emailed before, I have your address still. And you can always reach me off-blog if you win. Here’s what you need to do to win:

• Leave a comment below (yes, a box full of candy for the low low price of one comment!)
• Tell me one of the following things: (1) somewhere you left a comment already today–and feel free to leave, write a comment somewhere, and come back AND/OR (2) something that you read on another IF/loss/adoption blog in the last few days that touched you–either something very moving or funny or thoughtful. If you can provide a link to that other blog in the comment section or tell people where to look, I’d appreciate it. If you don’t know how to provide a link within a comment, write the name of the blog and the section where they appear on the blogroll so other people can find them quickly.
• Think of it as if you are creating the Friday Blog Roundup in the comments section. Honour another person’s writing today–either generally by telling where you left a comment or specifically–stating a post that moved you.
• If you can do (1) and (2), all the better.
• And then leave my blog afterwards and go comment on at least two other blogs today.

I’m obviously not going to check up on each person and make sure they really did comment on two blogs afterwards or comment on one blog beforehand. This is all done in good faith. And it is meant to draw attention to moving or interesting things you’ve read recently since the Roundup usually only contains 4 or 5 posts and I read many many more than that each week; it’s simply a matter of space.

You can enter two or three or five hundred times by leaving more than one comment below (it would be helpful to have only one other blog listed in each comment–so if you read three cool things, list them separately in three comments or it gets a bit too cluttered), but your name will only be added to the hat once. I will also love you forever if you read down the list and click over to read the other posts listed in the comment section. If the commentor only provided the blog name and post title, you can find them on the blogroll. And not just the first ones at the top of the comment list. Make sure you hit some of the people in the middle or bottom of the list and leave them a comment telling them that you agree with the original commentor–their writing does rock.

My usual blog rules apply: any spam is deleted–the point is to honour another person, not drum up business for a Viagra website–as well as anything rude.

Part of my brother’s mishloach manot basket–I made his early this year

This is all about sweetness–we could all use some sweetness in our lives. And if you are so inclined, pull together your own gift some time soon and send it along to another reader. And may the most randomly-picked person win.