Monthly Archives: March 2013

Newsletter: Month 456

A newsletter for me. Good lord, I’ve been alive 456 months, lets pretend there’s 24 months in a year – that makes me only 19 years old…

Dear Becca,

This month your hair grew out just enough to be at that awkward in-between short and long phase where you have to wear a clip so it stays out of your eyes and you stop looking like Carol Brady:

You revived your book club and got everyone together to actually discuss books…and beer – but mostly books.

You finally figured out which circuit breaker at work controls the library so every time your illegal and totally unsafe space heater under your desk trips the breaker you can turn the electricity back on.

You finally found the owners manual for your car (that you bought TEN months ago) and realized what you already suspected – that the ‘maintenance required’ light is Scion’s way of needlessly scaring owners in to getting their oil changed. Ingeniously you borrowed a Hello Kitty sticker from Lucy and fixed the annoying problem.

You joined weight watchers and lost 5 pounds and then realized it was your birthday month and spent the next two weeks putting it all back on. The shear quantity of wine and pancakes that you consume really helped out.

You were bored one day and flossed your teeth. You did approximately 900 loads of laundry. You painted the kitchen and your bedroom. You went to your yearly physical three years late.

You’re favorite things right now: day light savings time, online banking, Lucy, finally moving back in to your bedroom, mint chocolate chip ice cream, your husband (not in that order).

You are totally ah-mazing.

Newsletter: 31 Months


Weekday mornings, after getting dressed, you like to sit on the kitchen counter while I make your breakfast. When I get the milk out for my coffee you hug it and say ‘Oh milky, milky – I love you” and you hold it close until I take it away from you. You never want to drink it. It’s really cute but really weird.

Oh Milky milky

You are in a phase when you can only love one of us at the same time. So, if I do something that makes mad, or say ‘no’ to you, you’ll look at me and say “It’s okay Mommy, I love Daddy.”

You are obsessed with knowing who made everything (probably because your grandmothers are always knitting or quilting you something cute). Every time you put on a piece of clothing you ask “who made this for me Mommy?” and if I say “the people at the store” you’ll need to know who bought it for you.

Sometimes you ask “Who made me Mommy?” and I’ll tell you that Mommy and Daddy made you and you will say to me with complete solemnity “Thank you Mommy.”


You are super cute, but you definitely have a cranky side to you. It’s probably our fault for spoiling you but you do no like to hear the word ‘no’  – you will pout and whine and cry and put yourself in a time out. Your father and I are trying to ignore this behavior in the hopes that it will end on its own, but until then we are calling this the reason there is so much wine in the house.

You are a really good talker and there’s not much that you say that we can’t understand anymore. You can spell your name and recite the alphabet and count to 20. You know many nursery rhymes although you don’t understand why humpty dumpty couldn’t be put back together again or wrap your head around why anyone would live in a shoe. There are things that you say that are adorably cute – you call mud puddles (or any puddle) ‘muddles’  and you say ‘Polka Bots’ instead of polka dots and ‘dictioner’ for conditioner.

muddles are fun

You are very finicky about your socks. You have very particular ideas about what you will and wont wear and if you end up in the wrong ones you completely break down and cannot go on. Your favorite pair has Dora on them, but we only have one pair of Dora socks, so you are often disappointed.

randomly cute photo

This month I lost you in Target and I experienced a fear that I have never known before. At the time you did not seemed much phased by the experience but ever since it happened you have been extra vigilant about staying within eyesight of me whenever we are out and about.

Run Lucy run!You are an amazing little girl and I am in constant awe of you.

Love, Mommy

I remember a time before she could talk…

A conversation in high volume traffic this afternoon




“Yes, honey”

“Mommy, I have to tell you something”




Mommy, I have to tell you something”



“What honey?”

“Mommy, you need to look at me.”

“Ok, hold on”

looking back over my shoulder

“Yes honey?”

“Mommy, I have something to tell you”



“Yes, honey”

“Mommy, I have a window!”



Senility, March & Rash decision making

I recently ordered  2001: A Space Odyssey through my book club on audio CD to listen to in the car. I thought about how I never really cared for the movie but have always been a big fan of Arthur C. Clarke and it was probably time to ‘read’ it. I listened to the first one and a half discs and this morning began thinking that this story line seemed a little too familiar when suddenly it flashed through my head in vivid picturesque details how I had had this exact same thought while rummaging around the basement sale of my local library a few years ago – I saw the tattered hardcover I bought for a quarter, I saw myself lying in bed reading it. I wonder if this is the same feeling that Alzheimer’s victims have during moments of lucidity when pictures of them playing with their forgotten children suddenly burst through their minds.

This certainly isn’t the first time I’ve picked up a book that I’ve read before – I do read a lot of books, its not disconcerting to think I might forget one or two here and there. What is disconcerting is that I listened to 90 minutes of this book before the memories managed to claw their way to the front of my cerebral cortex.

I need to get a subscription to luminosity or maybe do what a friend of mine does and start spelling words backwards… but who am I kidding I can barely spell them forwards…


This morning I woke up promptly at 5:15 and could not get back to sleep – I immediately reached for my phone to see if anything important had happened overnight that my phone thought was important enough to tell me. Nothing had. But immediately my eye was drawn to the calendar icon and a big number ‘1’.  It’s March! I nearly shouted to my empty bedroom. It’s March!

March to me means the end of winter, the start of daylight savings time and a renewal to everything that is good and happy. In my mental calendar that is essentially just a giant circle March first is the start of the upward curvature that takes us out of the dark and bottomless winter and ultimately culminates in the pinnacle of the year on or about July 1st.

I was so excited I dressed Lucy is a flowery skirt and top that is totally inappropriate for the actual weather outside. I put on makeup and actually shaved my legs in the shower. Its like a springtime miracle.


In the past couple weeks there have been some developments in my quest to find new employment that will allow me a better work/life balance and rescue me from the daily commute that I detest.

Tuesday I gave notice at my job. It made me feel like a complete jerk when my boss asked me to please please reconsider and refused to accept my letter. Wednesday I stood firm and resubmitted my letter.

I felt assured Tuesday morning that I had other options solidified enough that alerting my current boss to my upcoming departure seemed like the correct and respectful thing to do. Time to be a free agent and go where the universe would take me.

Wednesday morning I also felt assured that this was the correct and appropriate action. About five minutes after reaffirming my decision I got the uneasy feeling that perhaps I had acted to irrationally, or at least too soon. Because within those  five minutes the universe seemed to  stop responding to me.

I don’t know what’s going to happen. Either way a new chapter is going to open in my life. In the meantime if you would like to wire  me cash or buy me food, or take over my student loan payment until it is all straightened out I would gladly accept your donations.