My Molly Mojo

I earned this girl My mother is sure that I got this one to make up for my excessively naughty years. Considering the fact that those years have not and will likely not end any time soon, I'm in trouble. If my mother is right, this one will keep me up nights... forever.

Not long after her little brother was born, I took some photos of the kids together in my mom's garden. It's a grandma's garden filled with heirloom blooms and bright red poppies. 

I blew a photo up to frame and noticed that Molly's chin had a little discoloration and seemed a little swollen on one side. I figured it was just a normal Mojo smudge. The kid is always dirty. But, when I looked more closely it looked very much not like a smudge. 

Long story short, she had a tumor on her chin. Benign and non-threatening, but still alarming because of how large it was.

She has now been through multiple surgeries to remove it without terribly scarring or stretching. She is so fair that the red scar is quite noticeable and it bothers her much of the time. I struggle with the fact that she feels imperfect. Because, while naughty and sassy, she is really as perfect as they come. She has the most amazing row of darling freckles across her nose and cheekbones.

This morning I went in to wake her up. I sat on the bed next to her and tickled her until she laughed. When she smiled and the skin tightened around her cheeks and chin I noticed that the tumor had returned and was growing on both sides of her little red scar. My heart broke.

I can handle a lot. I have handled a lot personally. But, I don't handle my children suffering well. And, this one can't be solved easily. I'd take the last 18 months of cancer, chemo, radiation, and fear all over again to spare her from this thing that makes her sad and insecure.

What mother wouldn't?

No Talk List : Police Edition

I got pulled over the other day. It's a habit of mine. I seem to attract them everywhere I go. Over the past few years I've been pulled over in multiple states for a variety of reasons. None of those reasons included speeding.

Sam was in the car when the cop came to the window to talk to me. Sam's window was also down. He did not want to miss the action. The idea that mom could get in trouble was so exciting that he was giggling uncontrollably. Molly was also in the car and was quivering in the third row of my ginormous vehicle.

The officer just wanted to tell me that I had a brake light out. He was very nice and talked to Sam for a few minutes and then wrote a pretend ticket for Molly. She nearly peed her pants. As the officer started to walk back to his car she yelled from her crouched position in the 3rd row, "put it on my tab". I am pretty sure I snorted to keep from laughing out loud. Dan in Real Life is one of our favorite movies.

The officer stopped for a second and then turned back around and peeked through her window and then put his fist up to the glass to give her some stones. She didn't bother putting her hand to the glass. Instead she stuck her tiny hand through the opening in the rear windows that only crack open a few inches so she could give him real stones... the exploding kind. Or, as our Mel has recently learned, "Sparkle Stones".

Not to divert too far from the movie references, on our way home from dinner with Mel at Flour Girls & Dough Boys tonight Molly started to tell me about a movie she was watching on Netflix the other night. It had some police officers that drove around their town all crazy and then they kidnapped a high school kid and let him shoot their guns and set their car on fire and say that one really bad word a lot.

Yes. She was referring to SUPERBAD. And, I'm officially the worst mother ever and have now changed the Netflix password and removed the app from their iPods and the iPad and the computers and the Wii and have been labeled the "Murderer of Fun". Someday, I'm sure I'll be called worse than that. For now, I need to try to figure out how to wash her teeny little brain out and fill it back up with butterflies and unicorns and fairy godmothers.

Still not quite as funny as the sex with a sandwich bit from Stockton, but this girl has the ability to easily surpass her cousin in time.

We have a problem...

This is the only shirt Sam wants to wear... EVER!

Sam calls it his Jesus shirt. Every time he asks for it Chocolate Jesus by Tom Waits goes through my head. He'll grow out of it before I really have to correct him and before I introduce him to Hendrix. He's only 3. It's a little early for Foxey Lady or Purple Haze.

Running. Falling. Skinny Dipping.

I grew up in a coastal New England town just south of Boston. I love my home town. And, I have always maintained plenty of consulting work in Boston to allow me to go back often. The last eighteen months have been the exception. Chemotherapy and radiation treatments have a way of keeping you on the ground. But, new work will begin take me back regularly this summer. Can't wait.

Alpine, UT : April 2011

Early this morning I drove up to the top of the ridge above my parents little cove. I planned to run the winding roads to their house. It would only have been about five miles total. But, the winds were too strong and way too cold. I had to lean with all of my weight  to keep upright.

The wind whipped my hair in to a Medusa-like mess. The length definitely works against me on days like this. It reminded me of one of my favorite memories of one of my favorite people.

We had a huge storm come through New England during the summer of 1991 (I think). All I know is that I had my mom's car, so I had my license. That summer I met someone I'd end up dating on and off for several years. One of the first real dates we had was the night the storm hit. We spent most of the night standing on one of the many sea walls, along Jerusalem Road in Cohasset, and simply falling in to the wind. It would pick us up and bounce us around a little bit and then drop us to the ground.

This was taken on that very sea wall a few months after the storm. I'm on the left.

The power was out all over the coast that night. I didn't bother to check a clock. I think I got home around dawn and I remember not really fearing the wrath of Nan. Maybe it was because it was totally stupid and badass and dangerous. Or maybe it was just him. He was always very persuasive. 


Jumping off of see walls in to wind is rather mild compared to some of the things he liked to do. Some day I'll write about scaling the walls of the Glastonbury Monastery to skinny dip.  I said he was persuasive.  He was definitely not a Candyass. Still isn't.

Fifth Grade & Kisses

This morning, while combing the natural disaster out of Abby's hair, I asked her about a party she was invited to by one of her classmates. It's her first boy/girl party. It's being thrown by the boy that likes her. They have a group of friends that hangs out at recess and plays kickball or football or one of their many odd variations of tag. They're all going to this party. The more questions I asked, the more it was clear that this party was perfectly balanced. Seven girls, seven boys. And then, I did the unthinkable.

"Ab, is this party for couples?"

"Mom, are you serious? I mean, oh mah gawsh, that is like the stupidest thing I have every heard you say in your entire life."

I didn't bother to interrupt the tirade and remind her that she's only known me HER entire life. I said way stupider things when I was in my teens... twenties... early thirties even. I let her go on...

"You think we're all boyfriend and girlfriend. That is so lame. I can't believe you think I'm all in to Allen like that. He's so weird. He's always trying to sit by me at lunch and help me with stuff and it's so embarrassing because I totally don't need a boy helping me with anything..."

This is where her sentence runs on for another ten minutes and I think about the fact that my ten year old is all kinds of liberated and shiz. I stared at her for the next several minutes of the tirade and heard something about Justin Bieber and flipping hair and being like totally obsessed with Mumford and Sons and how she thought it was cute that he liked them because she's been listening to them like forever. (that would be because I've got a serious music habit). And, then, because I'm an idiot, I did it again.

"You like him."

She blushed her first little girl crush blush and I had to do everything possible to keep a straight face.

"Seriously, it's cool if you like a boy Abby. It's totally normal and he's a really nice kid."

"Mom, I'm not having this discussion with you. I mean, it's like not even something you get because you were in the 5th grade like f-o-r-e-v-e-r ago."

"Abby, I had my first boyfriend in the 5th grade. His name was Todd Davies. He lived on my street and we were in the same class in the 5th grade."

"Mom, stop it, nobody wants to know about your first boyfriend a million years ago. And, Allen is not my boyfriend. I just think he's funny and he's kind of cute and his favorite color is purple which is really cool for a boy....."

She went on for another ten minutes. I had a mild heart attack/stroke and started seeing spots and thought I might throw up and sat down on the edge of the bathtub.

"So, did you kiss that Todd guy?"

I'm not cut out for this stuff. Really, I'm not. But, I'm also not afraid to tell her the truth about anything. I'm just hoping this line of questioning stops here for a few years.

"Yep. I did. It was hilarious. He was chewing orange bubble gum. So nasty. I never kissed him again."

I'm pretty sure she was grossed out just enough about the gum that she might put the whole idea of kissing a boy on a shelf for a few years. Even with the questions, I'm certain she isn't really thinking about kissing this Allen kid. I hope.

On another note, Molly, my 7 year old, is likely planning her first kiss as I write this. I'm certain that I will never have this conversation with her. She's going to be the one to give me the real stroke.

For now, I'd like them both to stay just like this...

C-O-N-D-O-M-S

I have a three year old, Sam. No, don't go looking at the headline here and think that condoms or the lack of condoms are in any way related to the fact that I have a three, almost four, year old. Don't get all horrified yet. That'll come. I promise.

He is a smart kid. You think I'm just saying it? I don't really need to. I have evidence. Notebooks full of evidence of his brilliance. He carries notebooks and crayons with him everywhere he goes. The other day I opened one up and found it full of shapes and the words that go with their shapes. Triangles, circles, and squares. And, toward the back I found a hexagon and a trapezoid. The words were not quite there, but the shapes were perfect. I said brilliant, right? Well, maybe not completely. I say this only because his favorite show is Yo Gabba Gabba on Nick Jr. I know! Cringe right?

I can't say that I hate it all that much. They get some good guests on that show. Jack Black is our all time favorite. But, the characters on the show are nuts. They often show the whole family of one of the characters, Muno. The first time I saw him I thought he looked a little weird. Then, I saw his cousin, Gooble and it clicked. Condoms. They look like condoms with arms. Don't believe me. Fine, see for yourself while the Roots serenade you.



They've got a whole multi-pack, multi-color thing going on there.

Then today I remembered the name on a box of condoms I saw on one of my favorite creative websites not too long ago. Yes, I had condoms on the brain. But, not because I am particularly fond of them. Not so much. I have a thing for great branding. I have a thing for their branding. I found them. Sir Richards Condom Company. I mean, look at this. How can you not love it?

Want to know the best part about this company and their brand? For every condom purchased, a condom is given to someone in need. I love the Toms shoe model. This is a brand I can follow. Not only did they not skimp on their brand, but they made it an important part of the overall story. This is brilliant marketing. It is a brand I'll follow. It's a brand I'll purchase. What a brilliant idea!

Yo Gabba Gabba teaches my Sam good things every day. Even with a giant condom in the cast. He loves them and I love that he can recognize songs by the Killers because he saw them on YGG. It's not a parallel, by any means, but Sir Richards Condom Company is doing something equally important. Giving back is important. Giving, just giving, is important. More companies, scratch that, ALL companies should find ways to give more. 

Buy some condoms. Like, maybe the pleasure dots ones in pink. Get lucky. Give back. 

Xs,

W