Category: life

feeling the burn


My tissue paper flames from my Halloween 2009 costume.

At 11:29 last night, I submitted an abstract to a conference (with a cut-off time of 11:59 p.m.). Last Wednesday, I submitted a paper to another conference. For the last few months, I have been working full-speed on a project relating to my own research, and have been making real progress. Last night I went to bed feeling triumphant and giddy, having succeeded in getting both of those submissions together.

This morning I woke up tired.

There is a long list of things that I’d been largely putting off the last few weeks, and things (laundry, grocery shopping, battling the chaos) that I had somewhat let slide. Today I hoped to make a dent in that list, and get organized for the next push with my group’s research, with another conference deadline a few weeks away in mind. Given the tiredness, it might not surprise you to learn that I got very little done in the morning.

One small errand I had to run was dropping off some art supplies for Phoebe’s classroom that I had signed up to donate. This afternoon, after putting air in a mostly flat tire that I tried not to notice yesterday, I headed out with my bag of glitter and multi-colored tissue paper with plans to continue on my way to take care of some other things.

At Phoebe’s school, I sort of expected that they would collect the things at the front office, and get them to the classroom. But the woman at the desk called Phoebe’s classroom, and the teacher said I could bring the things by. It’s fun to see what the kids are up to, and since I had a bit of time, I didn’t object. When I went in the classroom, the teacher and aide welcomed me and collected the things I’d brought. Phoebe’s teacher called Phoebe over to say hi to me. Phoebe smiled at first, and then looked stricken as she came over. “I think I have a fever,” she said to me when she got up close. Half thinking that she was just angling to go home early with me, I felt her head. It did feel kind of hot, but I’d just been outside, and my hands were a bit cool. The teachers said she hadn’t complained of anything all day. I decided to take Phoebe to the school nurse’s office just to make sure.

103.3 degrees.

We went back to the classroom to collect Phoebe’s things and let the teachers know I’d be taking her home. Not what I expected from my glitter drop-off!

I have to say, I’m just amazed at how considerate Phoebe is with her timing. If this had happened yesterday, I likely would have missed the abstract deadline. Likewise, if this had been any time in the last week. Really, I feel like she’s given me an unexpected gift. Quite honestly, I’m looking forward to having a quiet day with her tomorrow.


This is a gift that Phoebe intentionally made over Thanksgiving weekend.


See the inside?

Stick a fork in me, I’m done.


You were probably expecting this to be a potato. I’m out of potatoes. But the reflection of the forks on the spoon caught my attention this morning as I was about to have breakfast.

Okay, looks like this makes my 30th post for November. SaYoNaRa, NaBloPoMo.

Oddly enough, I didn’t have much trouble with the daily posting this month. And it’s been a crazy month, what with the trip to California, trip to New York for Thanksgiving, and working up a study to submit to submit a paper to a conference. That deadline is today, by the way. Remarkably, the paper is almost done. And then I’ve got to barrel forward with the next phase of the study.

Thanks for all the supportive comments on my last post. You may not be surprised to learn that Phoebe was totally fine when I picked her up after school. And when I later tried to get her to explain to me what it was she was getting at in the morning, she just said “I just didn’t get a very good night’s sleep.” So I may never know what she meant with the gesturing or miming or what have you. The miming meaning remains a mystery.

bad mommy moment

At 8:25, 9 minutes before the school bus comes to the end of our driveway:

Phoebe, you still need to brush your hair. Did you use the bathroom yet?

She said she hadn’t, but then instead of heading to use the bathroom, she came up close to me. She stood in front of me, looking up at me with her giant blue eyes wide, arms stretched down and slightly behind her in some sort of gesture I couldn’t interpret.

What is it Phoebe?

She silently continued the wide stare and the apparent gesture.

I don’t know what you’re doing, Phoebe. Use words.

She followed me around, doing the same thing.

Phoebe, I have no idea what you are doing. Tell me what’s going on. You need to brush your hair and use the bathroom.

This went on and on while the minutes ticked away.

We need to hurry, the bus is coming in just a couple minutes.

Still no progress.

This is infuriating. That means you are making me really, really mad.

She still wouldn’t talk.

If you do something and it doesn’t work, and you try it again the same way and it still doesn’t work, it doesn’t help to keep doing the same thing over and over and over.

She still did the same thing.

I cracked.

If we miss the bus because of this, you have no idea how angry I’ll be!

I yelled.

I need you to talk!

I hurriedly tried to find the hairbrush that we keep downstairs. I threw some coats out of the way. I threw aside other coats that weren’t even in the way. I yelled some more.

I was the scary mommy.

In the end, Phoebe used the bathroom and I brushed her hair. She was in tears and I was livid. We ran out the door as the bus passed into view. We ran up the driveway, me carrying her backpack.

I hugged her and told her I loved her before she climbed onto the bus. I asked if she could quickly tell me what was going on. I got nothing. She climbed on to the bus, tears still on her cheeks. And I went back inside, still baffled and angry.

I found the whole thing to be deeply unsettling. That I could miss what she was getting at, perhaps trying to remind me of something. That she would continue so stubbornly to do something when I asked her to stop. And that she managed to make me so very mad by doing so little.

Not the best start to the day.

a bushel and a peck

One of the pick-your-own farms we frequent announced that they’d be open this weekend for apple-picking. Typically the picking season wraps up at the end of October, but this year (in spite of the freakishly early snowstorms) the hard frosts have been taking their time. The result is an extended apple season.

I knew I’d be tired after my travel day yesterday, but the weather was gorgeous today and I thought a day out in the fresh air would be good for all of us. Phoebe, however, really didn’t want to go. She had in mind to spend the day at home doing art projects. I think it’s great that Phoebe can get so involved in doing art projects, and I don’t want to discourage her. But I really, really wanted to go pick apples! It was a last, totally unanticipated, opportunity.

John was pretty worn out from his week of single-parenting, so he was happy to stay home with Phoebe. However, Theo did want to go, so off the two of us went.

It was a ridiculously beautiful afternoon. It was sunny with temps in the low 60s. Not even a hint of chill in the air. We got to the farm around 3 in the afternoon, and the light was turning golden.

While many of the trees had long ago finished dropping apples, there were several varieties that were still going strong. Among them, Empire apples, which is possibly my favorite variety. They are tart and crisp when freshly picked, make a very smooth buttery-textured apple sauce, yet keep firm enough when cooked to work in apple crisp. Empires are a cross between McIntosh and Red Delicious, neither of which I actually particularly like. I find that McIntoshes get pretty mealy, and unless very freshly picked, I don’t like them for anything beyond making apple sauce. (They also tend to get too mushy when cooked for apple crisp.) And Red Delicious? What can I say. Possibly my least favorite apple variety. Ubiquitous in school cafeterias and sorry hotel buffets, they are often mealy and sickly sweet without a hint of tartness, and with a bitterness to the skin that makes me gag. They are useless for cooking because they are too firm, plus they don’t taste good. It is a complete mystery to me how these two lackluster parents could have produced such outstanding offspring.

Wow, who knew I had so much to say about an apple variety?

In any case, it was remarkable how many apples were left on many of the trees. (In fact, I remarked on it frequently. I must have said “Wow, I can’t believe how many apples are left on the trees!” about 30 times.) Theo and I had a great time wandering and easily filled up our 2 half-bushel bags. (Actually, Theo picked maybe 5 apples. But he also didn’t interfere with my picking progress, so that’s productive in my book.) Then we headed to the playground for some sunset playtime.

And now I have a bushel of apples. I think my work may be cut out for me.

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I heart NED

Tomorrow I head back home to Massachusetts. As always, the trip went by too fast on this end, though I feel like I’ve been away from my people too long.

I’m gathering my things together, and packing up my miscellaneous items. By far the best thing that I get to take back with me is peace of mind. My mother heard from the surgeon today, and got the run-down on the pathology report. Things look good. Really good. No cancer was found in any of the lymph nodes biopsied. While there is one last test result that will take a bit longer, all the evidence points to the cancer having been completely removed. Things are looking very good for my mother not needing to have chemo treatments.

This news came a few days behind some other very welcome news: Diego’s latest scan showed NED: No Evidence of Disease. (He had his quarterly scan on Monday morning.) Diego has now passed the one year mark off treatment, and that is something worth celebrating. What’s more, nothing beats getting to see how well he is doing with my own eyes.

The big bonus for me for this trip is that I’ve gotten in some quality time with my sister and adorable nephews, who live only a few minutes walk from my mother’s. (Unfortunately, I’ve barely gotten to see my brother-in-law, as he had to travel for work this week. He left Monday morning, on the heels of my Sunday night arrival, and then isn’t coming home till tonight, on the heels of my Saturday morning departure. I’m trying not to take it personally.)

I’ve had a really great visit with my mother, and she’s continuing to recover well. (I know that she will sleep easier after the good news on the pathology.) Since she has to take things easy and stay close to base, we’ve had time to chat and enjoy each other’s company. I’ve also gotten to meet and spend some time with some of my mother’s many wonderful friends who live nearby. It’s been moving to see how many people really care about her–there have been lots of phone calls, visits, emails and notes.

Tonight being my last night here, we had some tasty Indian food delivered for dinner. Among other topics, we talked a bit about Thanksgiving plans, and my sister remembered how she spent last Thanksgiving. I got a little choked up in my Chana Masala thinking about all the scares we’ve had these past 18 months or so, and how thankful I am that we seem to have made it through.


I saw this water-beaded purple petal on my sister’s front steps this morning. It reminds me a bit of the purple heart beads that kids get from Beads of Courage at the end of treatment.

great so far

Things are going well so far. My mother got to go home from the hospital today, a day later than originally hoped for, but not too much of a setback. She is in good spirits, and happy to be home. She has read all your nice comments on my earlier post, and was very touched. Thank you all for your thoughts!

It’s been a long and fairly busy day, so I’m going to consider getting ready for bed. (Maybe tomorrow I’ll have something of substance to say.)


This photo doesn’t have much to do with anything. It’s my mother’s ginger grater. It’s a great thing to grate things. (Actually, I’ve never used it. I just wanted to say that.) (Also, I took the photo on my last trip out here, back in January. Maybe tomorrow I’ll take some photos so I can post something new in case I have nothing of substance to say.)

here I come

It was a long day today, and I am pretty well wiped out. I need to get packing and go to bed, as I fly out to California in the morning.

I was born in California, and even though I’ve now lived far longer in New England than I ever lived in California, it always feels a like going home when I visit. (It certainly doesn’t hurt that my sister and then my mother moved back there, either.)

The Golden Gate Bridge is one of my personal icons, a symbol of a place and a time of my life. (Funny to realize that it was the first bridge I ever crossed, as I was born in San Francisco, but lived in Sausalito.) I remember crossing the bridge many times as a kid and teenager, and always being a little thrilled by it.

When I go out to visit these days, it’s rare that I cross that bridge. As my mother and sister live in the East Bay now, the Bay Bridge is the one we most often take. But I always seek out the Golden Gate Bridge from afar when I can, even if it’s just a glimpse from the airplane.


This is a painting of mine from back in the days when I took painting classes. It’s based on a dream I had when I was 4 years old. In the dream, my mother and sister and I were fish, and swam across the San Francisco Bay from Sausalito. It was a rather complex and very bizarre dream, involving Coit tower and an improbable system of elevators. Somehow I remembered many details of the dream up through my mid-20s when I painted this. The memories are much fainter now.

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This post was brought to you by nostalgia, a glass of red wine, and mental exhaustion after a day of doing laundry and nagging children to pick up their toys.

P.S. I just noticed that all the links from my happy song post were broken. I fixed them. Didn’t I say I need to be packing?

silver linings

If you’ve ever met my mother, you know that she is someone who is full of life and joy and possibility. She is, among other things, a fantastic artist, an adventurous traveler, a loyal friend, a loving mother/sister/grandmother/aunt, and a generally fun person to be around. She is charming, creative, passionate, entertaining and intelligent. She is also one of the most beautiful women I know.

In case it’s not clear, she means the world to me.

Tomorrow she’s going in for some pretty major surgery to remove some cancer that was found in her colon, as well as (to minimize the possibility of metastasis), a large section of the colon. The doctors believe that the cancer is most likely still in an early stage, and that this surgery will remove it completely. I am ever-so-thankful for the continuing advances of medical science, as well as for my mother’s access to excellent medical care. I know that she is in good hands, and there is every reason to believe that her quality of life will continue to be excellent, and even minimally impacted, after the surgery. Hopefully she will soon be back to her usual business of doing many (usually too many) different and exciting things.

As for me, I am glad that I am lucky enough to be able to go out to spend time with her during her recovery. I’m flying out Sunday, when she’s expected to be able to go home from the hospital, and will have a week out in California. (I am ever-so-thankful to John, who is willing and able to take on yet another week of single-parenting. He should be up for a father of the year award.) My main job will be to keep my mother from trying to jump back in too quickly to her busy life and varied commitments. I also get to have some very welcome bonus time with my sister, and my incredibly adorable nephews.

I am so glad that my mother is surrounded by friends and family who love her, whether from near or from afar. Knowing that she has the support of many has bolstered her already considerable optimism. If you would like, please join in and add your own positive thoughts. (I’m not sure she’ll have a chance to read them before the surgery, but I will happily pass them along.)

Update, 11/10/11, 2:37 EST: I just talked to my sister, and my mother is out of surgery. It sounds like things were very successful, and the cancer looked very small. Thanks so much for all your positive thoughts!


My mother in Sevilla, during our magical 2009 trip to Spain together.

Waste not, want not

Earlier today, I was drafting up some emails to remind subjects of their appointments tomorrow for an experiment I’m running. I started by forwarding the info emails I sent each them last week, detailing the time and place of the appointment, along with some minor updates. I changed the subject line to begin “Reminder:..” rather than “Fwd:…” As I started to delete the “Fwd,” and got to the d, I caught myself thinking: “But I’m going to be using a d in ‘Reminder.’ I shouldn’t waste it!”

Clearly, I have internalized the whole reduce-reuse-recycle message.

Also, I don’t think I got quite enough sleep last night.

I did manage to get a nice sleep on Saturday night, when I was home alone, and slept in till 8 (which really felt like 9). Admittedly, that doesn’t sound very late compared to my former life’s schedule, but it was glorious. I felt so well-rested. Unfortunately, circumstances were such that I made up for getting 8+ hours of sleep on Saturday night by getting only about 4 hours last night. I was up too late, then both kids were up at different times in the night. By morning, the whole family was in the same bed. Much like dogs, small children can take up a remarkably large amount of space on a mattress. Even a king-sized one. I had to struggle to keep on the bed. Then Theo didn’t get the memo about the time change, and was all done sleeping by 6.

You could say that I was not exactly at peak mental performance today. (Not that I can remember being at peak mental performance.) While I did get some work done, it felt like much of the day was wasted. What I needed was a nap, or at least some quiet time to focus. But that wasn’t going to happen, as we are having some work done in our attic. (Our insulation is a mess up there. Lots of heat has been getting wasted.) (Also, we need a new roof. Not that it’s all that relevant here, but it sure is a pain.)

So, yeah. Not sure what my point is. Look, here’s a completely unrelated photo!


I like this photo, and it’s been sitting around for weeks. I didn’t want to let it go to waste.