Miss Nelson is Missing

Lost But Not Forgotten!

2012-01-11T13:59:00.000-05:00

I collect too much. These fascinating characters were floating around in a bag labeled "ARTifacts" in my basement. On a sunny day they decided to tell me a story about what it feels like to be shiny.

Name them for me?

On Virtue

2011-12-19T22:52:00.000-05:00

Disclaimer: US Magazine arrives in my mailbox addressed to the former renters of this house. I don't deny reading it however. It's like indulging in crappy candy bar: toothsome, high in nostalgia points, but overall too many stupid calories to waste on something so poorly made.

As a self-proclaimed Over-thinker Extraordinaire, I see crap like this lying around on my coffee table and I cannot help but stop and take a picture. I know it's not pornography lying on a copy of the Bible, but this contradiction of input in my life is precisely the reason I wake up in the middle of the night and ask myself, "What the hell is going on in this messed up world? How can I manage to be a decent parent when these opposing messages are floating around my home?" Then I try incredibly hard to erase the thoughts that follow, the ruminating, the catastrophizing, what to do about my inner inactive activist, amongst other textbook depressive thoughts. My poor mind lives in two worlds: one of deep existential doubt and grouchiness, the other full of light and love and optimism. I suppose I have to pay tribute to both halves... and it goes a little something like this:

"Kim Kardashian, I love to hate you. I love that we don't know one another and I can giggle about you and your emptiness and your bizarre lifestyle. I adore the fact that we can use you as everyday gossip. You are a prime example of sleazy convo filler that is welcome in a variety of social circumstances, and for that I thank you. Honest. (It's much easier to chit chat about you than it is to unleash any criticism about my peers, and when I read about you I have access to that part of my brain that is empty and shallow. I suppose that part needs nourishing too.) Every day that you maintain a sense of sanity under such intense public scrutiny is pretty heroic actually. Look at what Hollywood did to poor Lindsay Lohan... and she actually had some talent! I'm not tired of seeing your face on magazines yet so please keep up the good work. "

AND TO THE OTHER (more virtuous) HALF:

"(Post Post) Modern "Western Civilization" That Has Adopted a Quasi Buddhist Mentality- I love to love you. You are (besides my family) the reason I'm alive. You've taught me a lot about how we as humans matter and don't matter. It's pretty fucking cool, although it does make me feel sad when I'm shopping for cheap nail polish at Target or when I use plastic bags and paper towels. It's like I'm a Super-Bad-Cheater-Fraud in those dark moments... but at least you give me balance and perspective. Without you, my concept of world peace seems unattainable. You allow me to forgive myself and others for all of our vices, and you help me mindfully do the dishes and laundry when I want to say screw it and run away from home. Om Shanti."

Phew. Happy to have that rant off of my brain for a bit. Huge apologies to those of you who can't wrap your heads around what I'm talking about... consider yourself lucky maybe? Maybe you don't have children of your own yet - because that was the real turning point for me - especially when they learned how to read and listen to pop music. I have to ask though, what are these mediums saying and doing to their innocent minds? These little humans I created - they believe in Santa! Mr. MagicPants himself thriving in my children's thoughts... I find it absolutely endearing. If we can easily convince them that a fat bearded man gives loads of toys to a billion children around the world simultaneously, isn't that proof enough that their fresh and empty minds are so ready to be filled with the sordid messages of our INSANE world? I try so hard to keep it "clean" for them (the F-Bomb Mom has paid loads to the Foul Language Collection Jar recently) but I'm finding it borderline impossible on many levels.

I have decided, however, that I don't want to shelter my kids beyond reason. Eventually they will have to sensibly navigate the hectic input of media with an informed mind on their own and I feel I do have to give them a sense of perspective somehow (maybe we save the semiotics lesson for high school).

"That magazine is total junk," I've said over and over when they try to sneak away and inspect the "Who Wore It Best" section. And then I heard recently from Ruby, "If it's junk, why do you read it?" I explain to them that it's like having an unhealthy meal - if you consume too much of it, your body doesn't stay healthy.

What I haven't explained yet is that I also like to believe that the virtuous material almost (almost) cancels out the smut.

And the message is... eat the candy, go on a long run. Offset your carbon emissions. Is that what I'm saying? At least for now, this is the best I can come up with.

Comic Diving

2011-11-30T23:17:00.000-05:00

This Thanksgiving holiday in order to mix things up a bit we took a trip to Rockport MA to see my cousin and his family. I think we amounted to about 30 people combined... and upon arrival my kids seemed very confused about these "new" family members that they had acquired.

"Mom, what do you mean he's your cousin?" I had to explain that this was my mom's sister who passed away's son. And then the other cousin... well, "That's the son of my mom's younger sister who passed away." Lots of thinking ensued. Their confusion was quickly forgotten with the arrival of a piñata shaped like a turkey. (My cousin's daughter MOLLY has a boarding school roommate from Mexico who was in on the festivities.)

The entire experience initially felt a bit odd, as if we were hoping somewhere in the depths of our Pseudo WASP (a.k.a. assimilated Jewish) emotional past we could really feel some sense of family connectivity with people we rarely get together with. But when my cousin stood up and made a tear-inducing sober toast to the incredible power of love that has allowed our generation to heal the psychological scars of our ancestors– I thought I was witnessing positive genetic mutations in action. Shit. I mean, weren't we just a family known for our bitter sarcasm and our proclivity for excess? Do we not suffer from alcoholism, abusive relationships, vanity, obsessive compulsive disorder, unnecessary self-deprecation and a passion for butter and salt?

And then my 3 year old niece pipes in: "Um, who's that guy?" The room erupts in laughter.

We clink glasses, I stuff my sassy fresh vegetarian face, linger a bit and make "medium talk" with Stunning Mexican Roommate. Her eyebrows seem literally robbed from the face of a young Audrey Hepburn and I can barely pay attention to our topic, which has something to do with children being kidnapped in Guadalajara and the safety of life in America. I make a swift visit to the small half bathroom and I'm greeted by four large black and white photos of a "wacky" guy (think Fozzie Bear wearing swim trunks in Cuba circa 1937). I can barely take a pee.

Waka Waka Waka.

This man is my grandfather! Wait. What? All I knew of this human was that he liked to eat beef tongue and chopped liver. He was philanthropic towards libraries, cigars, Monaco, and Brown University– but otherwise did a great job embarrassing the hell out of his grandkids by treating his daughters and restaurant staff like slaves. (In many ways he was the worst side of that NYC Jewish stereotype.) I'm pretty sure I never got to see him with a genuine smile on his face, and and I always wondered if he thought his philanthropy would somehow buff out his cantankerous edges.

So back to Waka Waka... GRANDPOP!!! WTF was going on? He apparently excelled at this odd genre popular in his day referred to as "Comic Diving". And this made him smile. It made ME smile just looking at it 60 or so years after the act. Just when I thought the world was getting more boring than ever (a kind of boring only relieved by watching the creative genius that is Adventure Time on Cartoon Network) these photographic gems decided to give me a shake down.

Ugh. I have so much to learn about my family history it hurts. If this blog can help me, I will be doing the backstroke into the depths of my comic gene pool, with the hopes that my Lake Wobegon "above average" children will come to thank me for it when they reach the mental quagmire of middle age.

P.S. The title of this post was actually going to be "From Fatitude to Gratitude: The Truth About My Genetic Gravy".

Facebook Kidnapped My Mojo

2011-11-09T10:34:00.000-05:00

These watermelon radishes and chiogga beets were photographed in the height of their beauty last fall in Vermont, where finding sublime vegetables was relatively easy. I'm pretty sure I had every intention of sharing this image when I captured it, along with a few others that show you how gorgeous the roots look when you slice them open, but I lost focus. The pictures have been relegated to yet another flickr photo set, and lost in the swamp of my unorganized iphoto library. My regret here is twofold; I don't have interesting vegetables readily available to me, and facebook (for the better part of the last 4 years) has literally scooped up any of my blogging power and tucked it in its dirty back pocket.

(Before I move to the next topic, I should add that if you can get your hands on a watermelon radish and slice it up, you should. Their color is an inspiration. And just think - if I had decided to include the photo of their interior, would you more or less likely to go out and find one for yourself? The chiogga beet interior is shown in a previous post.)

Sometimes I will take a peek at a random old blog entry from years past and feel a bit uncomfortable - like that deep embarrassment one feels when reading old journal entries from middle school - but other times I have happened upon some decent posts that serve as a reminder of my hectic past, things that I'm surprised I took the time to write out, things that kept my old friends close to me even though they were far away. And then Facebook came along... and look what it fucking did!! I don't even think I need to explain how easy it made keeping in touch with my friends around the world... and how alluring it has been to spy on everybody, to stalk old boyfriends, to put my immediate world in the face of many many so-called "friends". This makes me deeply sad if I think about it too much, but if somebody could show me how many hours or minutes I have spent gazing into the light of a computer screen or sucked into the glow of my iphone in the last year alone I would probably feel sick inside. How is it that FRIEND has gone from noun to verb in such a short period of time? Why have I felt it necessary to dip into iphone candy to alert the world to my experience of apple-picking with my children? Does anybody really need to know, or is fb just my new video game (I wasted a good year of college playing computer tetris during deep bouts of depression)? In this questioning I have become much better at confronting my motivations when making a "status update", and even limiting my computer/phone time entirely.

As it goes, there is a flip side to everything, and I see that fb is a joy and delight for many of us that are too busy to stay connected (either on the phone or via snail mail) and I am not ready to give it up cold turkey... but I will say that I am far more mindful of how I use it as a tool rather than an escape. And that's just how I see my present stance on blogging. This space has become a type of tool. I'm not entirely sure what kind of tasks this tool accomplishes, but I know it does SOMETHING. Something more than just nourishing my ego.

bovine wonder

2011-11-04T11:49:00.001-04:00

We took a field trip to the landfill and recycle center with the Pre-Kindergarten class from Penny's school last week. This was the only photo I could grab out of the bus window when we reached the top of "Trash Mountain". Our tour guide mentioned that these cows are literally "strays" from a nearby farm who seem to find it tasty to graze atop a massive stack of trash. I don't know how to feel about this really... as I wonder if the cows are getting decent nutrition, or whether I should feel confident that I'm witnessing the cycle of nature at its best.

What I did take away from the experience was how incredibly important it is to spend time at a true metropolitan landfill. It is so horrifying and intense, but ultimately such a powerful message to these little kids (and their grown up teachers) who happened to learn a lot about what it means to create less waste.

On and end note, I have to say that my last post must have generated a weird cosmic energy... the construction barrels were removed from the bridge. Now all that remains are a couple of BUMP signs (which are my favorite).

Endless Construction

2011-10-22T21:54:00.000-04:00

Approximately four years ago I would drive across this bridge and wonder when it would ever NOT be under construction. Somehow I have ended up back in this town, driving many of my old routes and I get to ask the same question. What is wrong with this bridge anyway? I have never seen a construction vehicle or worker attending to anything here. It always makes me feel sad and empty for some reason - like really and truly nobody cares for this thing. So I'm featuring it here and giving it a moment of attention, because in just the right light and with the cooperation of well-placed clouds, it almost looks like this road leads somewhere interesting.

Secret Code

2011-10-01T21:48:00.000-04:00

I love being back in an urban setting and have discovered a very new fresh feeling. (Quite the opposite of that "not-so-fresh feeling"... call it the "City Douche Effect" maybe.) In the same way that I felt intrigue and excitement about the wild, rugged, organic Vermont lifestyle when we first moved there, a similar thing is happening here. I'm expanding. Or I've grown up. I have a much clearer sense of who I am and where my place is in this insane world, and a lot of that has to do with surrounding myself with the unknown and being able to feel like I'm hiding in my community, even if I occasionally run into people I know when I'm getting groceries.

Graffiti makes me feel comfy. Dumpsters are intriguing. Traffic and sirens remind me that there are tragedies and realities that continue to plague people, even if my life seems to be running smoothly. While I sit here typing on my couch I can hear the excited, jazzed-up college marching band version of "Call Me Al" echoing from the Brown football stadium... occasional cheers erupt. Then some crickets chirping. Then more drums and horns. Somehow I find it pleasant to feel a crowd nearby.

Sure, there's a ton of the ugly shit too... those crowded strip malls and office plazas. The hideously boring Targets, WalMarts, BedBathBeyond-villes. The crazy masses of overweight Americans mindlessly stuffing their lives with more and more unhealthy shit... and more shit... and more stuff... and more stuff-on-shits. It's the American REALITY that I have chosen to confront everyday, rather than escape. And on days that I'm out walking the street signs are winking at me and they whisper rather convincingly:

"Andre the Giant Has a Posse!"

For real. And if you're lost and totally not with me on this one... DO YOUR RESEARCH.

viewfinder

2011-09-19T21:16:00.000-04:00

We took a leisurely neighborhood stroll today - Penny on her Skuut, and me in my wildly uncomfortable new shoes. I decided to ditch looking through my camera viewfinder because the more I think about what I'm trying to capture exactly, the lamer my photos seem to become. And what a great metaphor for my life right now. The harder I try to frame some aspect of my life's direction, the less attainable it gets.

Recently I have given up a whole bucketload of material desires - mainly a giant house with 4 bathrooms and 10 acres of land - for a pared down rental with one bathroom to split between our family of 5. This process of moving for the 4th time in 7 years has aged me exponentially, but it has given me more wisdom than ever on the impermanence of everything. I have had to abandon a lot of those visions of what I hoped my life would look like as a middle aged woman... seriously. The dream did NOT resemble this! Thankfully I have been given an extraordinary education, a generous extended family and healthy children. I can generate and appreciate new perspectives on just about anyone and anything these days, which gives me the little crumbs of energy I need to make it to bedtime.

(Yes, I said crumbs.)

too much to say. too little time.

2011-09-13T16:36:00.000-04:00

Where does the time go? I have been a bit obsessed with this notion of time warping recently. Two weekends ago seemed like the longest 3 day vacation I can remember. Last weekend seemed like a blink.

And I can't even recall what happened yesterday.

Hormones? Amnesia? Alzheimer's? Technology? I'd love an explanation or something to point a finger at, but the best I can come up with has more to do with the natural aging process. My little twins are now riding bicycles. They have to study for spelling quizzes. They throw around sarcastic comments about their parents. And my baby is 4. She thinks she is a professional dancer and can shimmy like J Lo. I have absolutely NOTHING to do with it.

So I observe my girls a lot more carefully these days and finally understand those parents who seemed over the top with their emotional sensitivity to their kids... (Believe me. I spent a lot of time making fun of them. I just never got it until now.) Childhood innocence has the slowest, yummiest perception of time. And just to make more sense of the photo, I remember my friends telling me they had never eaten homemade beets. How about growing your own, harvesting them with your kids and cooking them? It's all completely possible AND you might even have fun in the process. Contrary to popular belief, it doesn't actually take that long, unless you think the earth isn't moving at the right pace anymore (which could also be possible... but that's another post for another day).

PRESENCE. PERSPECTIVE. PERCEPTION.

That Certain Something...

2011-07-14T10:59:00.001-04:00

I wish I had a great explanation for this new urge to blog. But I'm back... I think.

Mint and Boxed

2010-09-01T00:39:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

The image on the postcard for my show (this Friday, 6-8 pm at Two Rivers Printmaking Studio... WRJ) came out like crap and looks muddy and dark. Maybe this displays better on the computer screen?

15" x 16"
collograph (made with cardboard box tops)

Seeds Were Sewn

2010-04-14T10:19:00.001-04:00

Seeds Were Sewn
Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

I hate to use the expression "an Ah-ha Moment"... or "revelation"... but when I made this tiny little etching I'm pretty sure my eyes got wide and my brain was spinning circles. I knew for once where I was headed with my work and it felt like electricity. I swear.

This isn't to say I'm NOT struggling with creative direction now... but at least I feel like I have an image to refer to when I'm feeling lost.

Biking Gear...

2010-04-13T22:10:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

Cycling outfits make me die of laughter. But somehow this one sent from Myles' uncle all the way from Wyoming seems acceptable. Maybe?

Actually I take that back.

A Swim...

2010-04-13T20:55:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

The best Frog and Toad story ever. And they can both read it independently.

Insanity.

No Excuses...

2010-04-11T00:08:00.000-04:00

So I haven't posted Christmas... No New Year's... No 34th birthday, no Valentines or twins turning 6. It's pretty lame. At least I can say I've been accepted into grad school.

From this point on I plan to blog about my artwork, assuming I can get my portfolio uploaded on a regular basis. I know some loyal far-away Miss Nelson readers might be sad, but 6 months without a post probably has most of you emailing me for life updates anyway. We'll see. Maybe I'll make two blogs. (Doubtful.)

Big LOVE everybody... xoxoxoxoox

Pre-candy...

2009-11-02T13:23:00.001-05:00

Pre-candy...
Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

They looked pretty great, until the rain came. We survived! Next year I have to put myself in a costume too.

Very tough to convince Penny not to eat every piece of candy each time she added it to her bag. However, when I told her that the whole point of Halloween was to "collect the candy, not eat it right away", she replied with a big "Oh! O-tay!" - as if we should have told her beforehand.

Later when we were all sitting at home scouring over the candy supply, Eloise says, "Hear that. More rain."

Penny shrugs her shoulders and says, "Aw. Bummer."

Ruby asks, "Um Penny, did you just say bummer?"

She responds, "Yeah. Bummer."

Fits of hysterics.

Like Father Like Daughter...

2009-10-30T12:04:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

This seems to be the norm around here. I'm really ready for a new month and a different rotation for Myles.

Getting Excited...

2009-10-30T12:01:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

These girls are just ridiculous... in anticipation of Halloween madness, they have tried on lots of costumes and finally decided. Ruby will be a witch (with lots of makeup, hairspray and "bloody glow-in-the-dark teeth if you can find them at the iParty store Mommy"), Eloise will be a Midnight Fairy (not a very nice fairy I'm told... also in need of lots of glitter and colored hairspray) and Penny will be their pet spider (or as she pronounces it: 'pider).

The face painting shots here demonstrate their affection for the arts - which I might add, they have a knack for. I am so very very afraid to see what they choose for costumes when 2017 rolls around.

However, they are welcome to wear whatever they please at the Eclectic Halloween party in 2022. (That's a nice Wesleyan reference people... sorry.)

Can't wait to show photos from tomorrow, provided that we don't have to wear snow pants underneath everything.

final product

2009-10-30T11:52:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

2009-10-30T11:51:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

2009-10-30T11:50:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

Miss Nelson Returns

2009-09-22T14:09:00.000-04:00

I mentioned that one day I would emerge from the dark fog of my head and post something uplifting - something different. Then I got terrified that perhaps I was the kind of person who lives their life in a permanent state of moderate dissatisfaction. The professionals might refer to me as "depressed". I thought, "Ugh. I'm that complete bore who complains about shit endlessly and never digs herself out of her own misery."

Well, it's taken me a couple of weeks to work with these thoughts and I have successfully shoveled away a fair amount of crap in my head. This is all due to the fact that my children are all in school and there are moments where I can think. Just plain think about what is next, where I want to head, what fulfills me... it's allowed me to be relatively happy for a change. Two couples therapy sessions shed some optimistic light into my world. And I started going to the print shop more... took some refresher courses and am now hooked into the world of etching. There's nothing like working with hazardous chemicals while making art - I swear it's a sick rush. I mean, acid eating metal? Wearing a dust mask? Bottles of varnish and ink with skulls and poison symbols on them? Total adoration. (We are all trying very hard to print our works in the least toxic ways... I swear.)

During my hours in the studio, Penny is either at her new daycare or at a little morning "preschool". The separations have been really really rough for her. She's a totally attached munchkin and has spent most of her waking hours with me exclusively. The guilt of leaving her to indulge myself in my "potential career" is painful. Dropping Penny off with someone else to care for her while I go make art (without a salary to speak of) makes me feel like I'm headed to the local salon for a pedicure while my child suffers with a stranger. In this emotional process however, I can see just how ridiculously important it is to love what you do for a living. That's the message I am choosing to send my girls as they grow up - and I'm sure I'm going to hear it from them when they are 18 (and 30) and remind me of all that I didn't do to enrich their lives - choose what makes you happy. Simple shit.

Aw, this isn't to say I hit the easy road and my life is smooth from this point on. Myles and I continue to struggle. I feel like I work overtime trying to fix "us" - yet I'm finally done with attempting to fix him! (As far as I'm concerned he needs to take responsibility for his own adult garbage. He seems permanently dissatisfied with lots of things, but I'm going to try to ignore that for a little while longer. And if it persists beyond his residency, then I will re-assess.)

Phew. I must say it's great to write shit down again. Good to be back...

On a funny note - a few weeks ago I was telling Ruby that it wasn't a great idea to put her hands down her pants... and she replied, "Why not? Daddy puts his hands down his pants all the time."

(Dying laughing.)

Two down, one to go...

2009-08-26T13:38:00.000-04:00

About 5 years ago I remember taking the very young, very scheduled and very stroller-bound Ruby and Eloise on a walk up Church Street in Burlington. I was attempting to purchase something at a store called Scribbles, when the mom behind me in line said, "I just dropped my twin girls off at Kindergarten," in a very disconnected, deadpan kind of way. Immediately I wanted to bother her with all kinds of questions, as I felt I was living in some kind of existential hell with two babies... but instead I replied, "Oh wow! That must be quite a milestone!" She said yes, and we kind of awkwardly parted ways. For whatever reason, that meeting stuck in my head for all these years - as many parents remind me time and again that your children aren't young forever and your time with them is fleeting. Honestly, that's the only stuff that gets me through the variety of struggles and worries on a day to day basis. Sure, it's hard to cherish moments... believe me... but when my nervous girls walked up to the school yard this morning, begging me not to leave their side, I was shocked at how badly I wanted them to leap right in with their friends and head off to the classroom!

But when their teacher gathered all the kids together in a single file line and whispered something magical to them, El and Ru both turned to us and shouted, "Bye Mommy and Daddy!!!! See ya later!"

My heart moved into my throat, and my eyes watered over a bit.

Today is the beginning of something very new for me... for all of us. If anything, I'm feeling confused about what lies on the horizon. I promise to keep everyone posted. Penny starts at a new school next week!

It's About Time...

2009-08-17T09:39:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

My munchkins with me at sunset on Steps Beach, back in July. This photo feels like it was ages ago when the summer was new... when we had to wear sweatshirts.

Now we are melting. Sweating. Arguing. Complaining. Searching out swimming opportunities and preparing for Kindergarten on August 26th.

The summer months are too fast for me - perhaps the only people who savor the time are the kids, who can barely wait 5 minutes for me to fry an egg.

-'cation

2009-08-02T21:56:00.000-04:00

My month away in Nantucket was a treat-and-a-half. But not totally devoid of frustration, lack of sleep, high-maintenance child-wrangling, bugbites, unwanted sunblock applications, and girl drama... you could call it a "vacation" to a degree. I prefer to think of it as "Time away from husband feeling kind of single-mom-ish but supported by my family-cation".

Nantucket is a fantasy world. It doesn't surprise me that 13 years ago I fell in love there. There is such a sweetness in the air - cultivated no doubt by ocean salt spray and creepy old spirits from the whaling days. Wild sunset skies... dunes... evening swims. Shadows and crickets. Falling asleep to the gentle sounds of rowdy vacationers and lonely foghorns. The rain on our rooftop was worthy of a relaxation podcast - and at that, it only rained at night or in the early morning. Fog burned off to give us mostly beach-worthy days... the kids were in paradise.

Penelope turned 2 on July 3rd, my mom turned 66 on July 4th. I feel like I'm 45, lining up for a turn in the Mid-life Crisis Circus. So I chopped about 8 inches of hair off my head... a trendy low-maintenance bob, I guess. I went to a bunch of incredible yoga classes taught by one of my favorite teachers from Providence, I rode my bike, I ran 2 road races. I went out and drank too much on more than one occasion. Got my swerve on. (I love the drunken illusions when your belly's full of gourmet treats: the ebb and flow of beautiful humans groomed like polo ponies, walking arm in arm, tiptoeing across the cobblestone streets, stumbling on the brick sidewalks. There's always a sunburned booze-hound sailor guy somewhere who laughs so loud that he rattles the glasses behind the bar. Oh, and those goddamn late-night fish tacos. I would kill for one right now.) There were these moments that felt really really good, yet somehow I thought that every second away from my kids was a huge burden on my mom or a detriment to my girls' mental health. I know I know. Silly. But feeling guilty is my great talent.

Leaving the island hurt like punches. I mean, for the first time in ages I had to blink back a couple of tears while we all tossed pennies off the ferry deck (local tradition: toss a penny from the boat as you round Brant Point Lighthouse to insure that you will return to the island again). And I'm not one to get sad. Shocking.

But we are home to the new rainforest of Vermont. Pests have devoured many of our garden delights... and perennials. Fucking slugs ate all the marigolds. The local organic food is spectacular however, and I'm pretty inspired in the kitchen. The twins got their Kindergarten class assignment and fortunately it's the teacher that I got the best first impression from. She has a guinea pig in her classroom, which will do her huge favors in the likability department. Ruby and Eloise begin gymnastics/soccer camp tomorrow - leaving Penny and I to do what we do best in the mornings: errands. (Poor portable Penelope...) As for Myles, he's in the pediatric intensive care unit this month, and then he gets a week vacation (that he'll spend half of tiling our bathroom). I'm relatively solo-momming yet again. Almost like Kate Gosselin, minus 5.

Well, one of these days I'm going to sit down to this fucking blog and tell you all something uplifting - I swear. Something monumental and enlightening. Something joyful.

Just you wait...

Frantic Emptiness

2009-06-20T12:49:00.000-04:00

Vermont summer nights have brought us late bedtimes, visiting cousins, fireflies and slugs. Deer have discovered my perennial garden and I am restless while sleeping... waiting to see the motion detection light come on and then to shout out my window like a grumpy old lady as a sweet little doe scampers away.

The twins are like monsters without school, Myles is working 7 AM-7 PM this month with about 2 free weekends. Otherwise it's a 6 day work week for him. We barely communicate. Apparently the kids sense that something is "off", and have a hard time figuring out how to get our attention in positive ways. I barely want to have play dates because the girls ruthlessly torture their friends with verbal abuse. They know just how to hurt feelings... and mine too. So I've done a bit of an overhaul with how things will operate in the house - from earning their treats and allowance, to a zero tolerance policy with attitude and rude language and most importantly - reinforcing the benefits of positive behavior. It seems to be working. The only problem lies in my energy level to keep up the consistency. Any glitch in my "system" gives poor results, no doubt.

A Facebook "friend" (we've never met) who recently gave birth to twins updated her status as being: "scattered, smothered and diced". I couldn't relate more. I am a greasy, fatty, chopped up Waffle House hash brown. I wanted to tell her that things would really improve once the kids were older... but that would have been a cliche and a lie. Twins do have the bonus of a built-in buddy when they grow up, but they also have a significant amount of "twinny" baggage to deal with socially. And to be a parent to their twin-ness is complicated. (For example, inviting 2 friends to play usually works better than inviting 1, and telling one they did a great job making their bed when the other is being a grump and won't cooperate makes me feel like I'm picking favorites.)

Fortunately the end of this month will allow Myles and I to take a trip to Southwest Harbor Maine for a friend's wedding. We have enlisted the help of his dad and sister for the weekend and we'll take a 6 hour drive out there. Hopefully we won't want to kill one another by the time we get back and we can have a bit of relaxation... it is our 6 year anniversary on the 28th after all.

The following Monday we head to Nantucket for the month of July. No Myles, save for 1 weekend. It should be altogether weird. I don't have better words - and I don't know how I'll feel. Part of me doesn't care how I feel. I'm really tired of figuring out feelings, mine or anybody else's. It's pretty lonely. Pretty empty. Pretty depressing.

Last night I had a dream that I was running a marathon - the Middletown CT Marathon (which doesn't exist). I started out with a group of friends, running at what we thought was the front of the pack, but somehow we got separated. My running seemed slow and frustrating. My feet like cinder blocks, my stride short and useless. I turned to a friend and said, "just so you know, when you are running in a dream, it's impossible to lift up your thighs and really pick up the pace." She seemed confused. But I knew I was in a dream. So I switched to a side step. It was much easier... skip skip-skip... We eventually finished, and I crossed the line sideways. Nobody was there to greet us. The following day Myles was scanning the results in a local newspaper. "How'd I do?" I asked. "6 hours 25 minutes, " he said in a monotone.

And that's all I remember. Frantic. Empty. Scattered. Smothered. Covered. Chunked. Diced.

Reduction in Forces

2009-05-31T21:14:00.000-04:00

Dr. Webster is on another overnight at the hospital which has left me feeling refreshed and organized. The last few months have been uncharacteristically easy for Myles - he's had minimal call and plenty of free weekends, and the added bonus of arriving home before dinner time on weeknights. Honestly though, I'm always relatively surprised at how thankful I am for these evenings alone.

My thoughts have been bent on the concept of self-change recently. It's put me in a pretty low, dark, shadowy place... I'm trying really hard to figure out what components of my life seem worth fighting for. I'm attempting to have feelings about the course of my 30's, rather than just following the path that has been carved out by my husband's career. And then there's the idea that I will scar my children deeply if I don't give them every bit of my attention. My therapist is trying to discern whether or not I have created the concept of "Perfect Mom" from my mother's example, or from societal impact. (I say it's both. And perhaps it's exacerbated by the latter. True ignorance might really be bliss... how sick is that?)

But does anyone really do a full persona-overhaul? Or better yet, an ego-overhaul? And at what cost? I mean, I'm only 33... I feel like I could be 50. There's plenty of time for change... it only took me 20 years to get sucked into my current mental status. All that being said, I love thinking that I have more to offer the world - and simultaneously that very thought terrifies me.

How to proceed?

(New mantra: Harvey Milk Harvey Milk Harvey Milk... or as the wise Eminem once proclaimed, "You betta lose yo self in the music the moment...")

I won't lie. My head is like soup... too many ingredients. I'm hoping if I boil it long enough it will reduce to something yummier.

10 years later

2009-05-26T12:46:00.000-04:00

I've been looking for appropriate words to describe my experience at the Wesleyan 10 year reunion... and last night Lyllah left me a message on the phone that said, "um, did we just go to our college reunion, or was that just a really bad dream?"

And she's kinda right. First of all, we just went for a very short period of time - and literally bolted out of the place on Sunday morning - but the entire thing was such a wacky onslaught of emotions and memories. Some flashbacks were very entertaining (same staff at Neon Deli, just more wrinkles and grey hair), others were just plain depressing (brand new Usdan campus center feels unfamiliar and un-cozy, the field behind West-Co where I spent some time hallucinating is now a huge set of new dorms). Oh, and how could I forget to mention the gorgeous young graduates? These kids wear next to no clothing... and they do it very very well. My wrinkles and sagging belly button felt entirely out of place... along with my wedding ring and collection of my kids photos in my iPhone.

Not everybody goes back to their college after 10 years feeling 100 percent happy. That seems normal. But I wonder how many of the people I saw there would have said, "Shit. I really didn't know what I had offered to me back then. Too bad I took advantage of NONE of it." What a spoiled, confused, misdirected little brat I was back then... an enormous waste of money! Really, part of me feels like Wesleyan is for other people - people who know how to complete their assignments on time and are politically active... but another part of me feels like I got to be a part of an extraordinary place (the kind of place that draws graduation speakers like Barack Obama, Anna Quindlen and Oprah) and I was supposed to find my "thing" while I was there.

It came as no surprise to see that none of my classmates have 3 kids. None of the women I saw had changed their last names after being married. And I didn't meet a single stay-at-home-mom (but I admit, I wasn't searching them out). What I'm getting at is that it has been difficult to feel like I'm attacking my life in a different pattern - to put my career off for later in my life. The thought of going backwards into an academic mindset seems nearly impossible, especially in the creative department, because I feel wildly outdated and old. There's part of me that feels ashamed for not continuing some form of work while dealing with my kids - as both a model for them and as a method to make the transition back to work or an advanced degree easier.

We all have regrets. I see that clearly every day. I just have so much doubt in my ability to tackle some of the regrets that might be lurking around the corner.

Double!

2009-05-19T20:09:00.001-04:00

DSC_0012
Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

A double rainbow appeared in our back yard a few weekends ago. I have never seen anything quite like it. Moments beforehand, Myles and his dad were caught outside in a hail storm that dropped cherry-sized ice nuggets from the sky. Jim came in and said, "I bet this will blow over in 5 minutes and there will be a rainbow." But we got TWO.

This time of year seems about as busy as Christmas for me, with the end of school and outdoor maintenance, pending reunions, weddings and housekeeping galore. It's enough to drive me to insanity because I can't figure out how to feel good about putting my personal goals aside for a few weeks. And then comes true summer - where I kind of give up everything and my brain farts out to the fantasy land of Nantucket. All three kids are completely excited for our month long visit. They are obsessed with my mom and her grandmotherly magic, and they understand just how delicious that "faraway island" is... and I just adore sharing it with them.

But that escape is such an escape! And I very easily slip into the romantic side of my brain, filled with that nostalgia... the memories of being young and in love... tan young and athletic... entirely carefree and self-centered. Nantucket can be almost painful for me as a parent - and as a person struggling with the complexities of marriage.
It's hard to anticipate my time spent there, where my Mom takes care of us, and Myles is here in Norwich, working endlessly and begging us to come home (to share his boredom perhaps).

I still need to make it through June up here though. Tomorrow we are headed to NYC for our annual adventure with my entire family. Penny is so excited to take the subway... she shouts, "'Tain ride!!!! Penny!!" and jumps up and down, sometimes so vigorously that she falls over. Eloise and Ruby want to go see the dinosaur bones and get "a manicure with tiny flowers from those really nice ladies"... then there's lots of discussion about who is getting what color and what design on what finger. We had a big discussion about what kind of soaps they have in the hotel bathroom.

Maybe my next post will have some reflections on heading to Middletown CT for my 10th college reunion... wowzas!

Penelope in the Sky

2009-04-18T15:26:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

It feels like forever since I have written. So many things have happened and I am constantly swept up in everyday moments. Blogging is the last thing on my mind... but it nags a bit in the back of my head. I wonder if keeping my life on file like this is helpful at all. In the attempt to get my creative career underway I have joined a print studio, taken a workshop and started making things again. My psychotherapy has been wildly helpful in initiating this process as I discover how bizarre-o it feels to NEED to make things, even if ultimately I hate the thought of putting my art out there for other folks to see.

Seems kind of odd, considering that this self-indulgent blog process is pretty much a "hey, look at me and my life!" kind of display. I guess that's why I've been shying away from writing. That and the fact that my situation with Myles hasn't really improved to any remarkable degree... I wish so much that I could say we are making great strides, but our relationship often seems like one step forward, six steps back. I don't blame him. I just don't.

A lot of it has to do with me. I'm such a sucker for the "family" that we have. But I am more concerned than ever before about the model that I am presenting to the girls. We actively demonstrate that poor communication is acceptable, and that settling for minimal affection and attention is a fine way to live! How horrible to say this - to know these things, yet not fully understand how to initiate true change in our behavior patterns. Thankfully I do feel more alert and aware of how I'm acting in front of the kids... what kind of energy I'm throwing out in the world, and I clearly recognize how they feed off of it, and occasionally spin it back in my direction.

Early spring brings changes though. I am hopeful. Just seeing people in lighter clothing, bearing my pale arms in public and spending time on playgrounds has opened up my mind a bit. We are planning the summer out. I'm gearing up to make lots and lots of stuff for a grad school application/portfolio due in the fall.

When I'm feeling more fun and less heady, I'll tell you some stories.

And Now We Are Five

2009-03-23T13:26:00.001-04:00

DSC_0066
Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

Ruby and Eloise turned five on March 14th. For the first time ever we had a real (super awesome) birthday party... complete with fairy costumes, lots of friends from school, a piñata, goodie bags and a craft. It's taken some time for us to actually live in a home that could accommodate such a party - but I've always wanted this for my kids. Home parties are so much fun, if you can get over the glitter in the rugs, the frosting imbedded in your throw pillows, the noise, the moderate dramas regarding who gets which piece of the cake decoration, etc.. We even allowed our guests to bring gifts for the first time (which will be pared down for future parties), but we had them open them after everyone left. When you have twins, the present total adds up quickly and it's just a gross display of crap... that being said, they got great thoughtful gifts and they were enormously appreciated.

Having 5 year olds is a dream. The only drawback is that they seem so grown up that I can hardly feel connected to them. They do have some shocking Mollie and Myles character traits though.

At the current moment, nothing is funnier to them than poop, butt-cracks, boogers, vaginas and of course, the mysterious penis. The experts say this is a developmental phase. "Bathroom talk" is normal for their age...

another confirmation that I am a giant 33 year old child and that we are having a ton of fun together.

Penny. Thigh-High

2009-03-23T13:00:00.001-04:00

DSC_0030
Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

This lumpkin puts me over the edge with her cuteness. She stole Ruby's socks and threw them on herself.

endless winter

2009-03-02T14:55:00.000-05:00

We were hit by an incredible stomach virus last week. I've never seen the kids so sick. It took us a good 5 days to get any real appetite back. I think I did about 900 loads of laundry.

My hope for the future is that I can begin to post photos and write interesting things again.

There is a massive re-organizing campaign in my home now. Martha Stewart Living should come and do a photo shoot.

ahahaha...

sucked up

2009-02-10T20:51:00.000-05:00

I know I've been out of touch but I haven't been able to justify blog entries as a decent way to spend my time. Instead I've decided to eat cookies on the couch while watching recorded episodes of America Idol, Top Chef and Intervention. It's all very healthy, really.

Amidst the endless coughing and runny noses the big girls have learned how to ski. I can't even begin to illustrate the pride and joy I felt as I watched them zooming back and forth down the little slope at the Dartmouth Skiway... then off to the j-bar, like it was some skill they were born with. In my excitement I went out and purchased my very first pair of skis! I have been a skier on and off throughout my life, but I always rented... now I have no excuse but to get my ass out there. I have to admit, I do like the chair lift just as much as I like the skiing-down part. Shit, I could write a short story about the chair lift...

We have enjoyed a couple of skating days as well - one in particular stands out because it was in Ru and El's classmate's back yard. There is a group of houses that share their yards in the center of town, and they ice over a large patch of grass, set up a few picnic tables and 2 fire pits. Add a large pot of hot chocolate... instant coziness. Norwich is fucking cool.

It has been difficult to keep any of my own thoughts straight amidst all of the winter fun. I mean, I have managed to attend two movies and play 2 nights of tennis, I saw a folk guitar player, attended 2 family contra dances, eaten a "local foods" supper, and even braved a contra dance by myself (weird... really fucking weird, but such an experience). I went swimming with Lyllah and her niece at the new aquatics center and then headed over to check out her boyfriend's farm... we saw a lamb that was born that morning. People all around us don't seem phased by winter and thankfully this has helped me not resent it. The cold weather is a given, making 20 degrees seem more than reasonable, and a 62 degree house seem bearable when you step out of the shower.

With the continuation of my therapy and some patchy (okay, two) couples therapy sessions, I have started to pay attention to me... I have abandoned my semi-martyr mentality from the past! (Liberating.) Life is richer in a way - or busier at least.

On the down side, I think I have really pulled away from Myles. Somehow that seems okay. Scary and okay, all at once. I have had a bunch of moments (now being yet another one) where I remember how capable I am when I'm on my own. The nights that Myles spends at the hospital seemed painful and scary when we first moved here (and even more so when we lived in Providence), and now they feel almost delightful. There's something really odd that happens when Myles comes home, like I want to throw all of my responsibilities at him or make him do equal amounts of kid care and house maintenance. Making our lives function together as a unit has become painstaking, and we quietly argue about the most inane crap. I hate having to admit stuff like this. It's not flattering and plenty of you are wondering why I would share such personal information - but I'm working it out. When I hide for a month and keep secrets from everyone my thoughts are sucked up into a dark and useless part of my brain. Getting all of this garbage out to my far away people serves as motivation.

Which reminds me, where are you everybody? Come and play up here. The winters are better in these parts.

Ice Storm Madness

2009-01-09T22:56:00.001-05:00

DSC_0060
Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

You should hear the sound it makes when one of these trees snaps in half... I could have sworn a bear was trying to bust down our front door. Eloise came into the bedroom when it happened and said, "was that a hunter?"

Fortunately Myles' roof was strong enough and there wasn't any damage.

Since this shot was taken, the building has gained some sides and is pretty much done. It makes our property look twice as nice. We are hoping for a true barn dance at some point this spring/summer... live music and keg stands. Camping welcome.

The Barn is Done...

2009-01-09T22:50:00.001-05:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

I caught quality winter sun shining all over the new garage. Bring on the chicken coop!

Tina

2009-01-09T22:48:00.001-05:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

My freshman year college roommate got married last weekend at the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens. Definitely added to the top 5 most fun wedding list...

Photo 39

2009-01-09T22:45:00.001-05:00

Photo 39
Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

I love my computer in the basement. The girls are into posing for the built-in camera... myself included.

Just for NOW

2008-12-30T20:50:00.000-05:00

Before I get into things, I have to yet again apologize for the lack of visuals. Uploading photos takes me more time than I actually have... so I'm actually prioritizing by just getting out these words. Amazing. You just heard me admit I have some sense of priorities, which is relatively new. (For now my therapy is money well spent. I can feel it lifting me out of a fog every day.)

Yesterday I made a big adjustment and took myself for a solo trip to Shaw's Market. If you know me well enough, it should come as no surprise to hear that I am a food snob. I shop at the co-op in Hanover, I prefer organic, and local if I can get it, and I cannot stand taking my kids to a crazy fucked up mainstream market (candy and t.v. characters selling empty food EVERYWHERE). I had a minute to take MYSELF to the market, sans kiddos, and I realized how tight our money is these days. For the moment it's not the economy affecting my wallet, but the little ones' recent bout of pneumonia, everybody is hungrier and thirstier than usual while taking steroids and antibiotics. Oh, and meds for THREE kids... even with good health insurance we pay too much. Christmas gifts set us back a bit, plus heating costs. Long story, I know... but we needed a lot of food, so I chose Shaws.

After taking some time to pick optimal goodies and deals throughout the market (English Muffins! "Conventional" Granny Smiths, FROZEN chicken nuggets, things with hydrogenated oil), I grabbed a 16 pack of Scott toilet paper... extra soft. I tucked it underneath my cart to conserve space. Well, I paid for my gargantuan load of groceries and was quite pleased when the bill came to be $157. That seemed really reasonable considering how much I had packed in!

I strolled the cart out to my car, started loading the bags in the trunk and realized, "Motherfucker, I have neglected to pay for the toilet paper". It never made it up on the checkout counter.

(Big pause. Lots of internal dialogue.)

"I SO don't want to head back into the store in order to show Shaws how honorable I am." "If I drive away with a FREE giant toilet paper pack, will I get hit by a car tomorrow?" "Who just saw me do this on camera?" "How much was the 16 pack anyway?" "Do I deserve this much free ass-wiping material?"

The giant pack was thrown hastily in the trunk.

In the end I decided I DESERVED lots of free toilet paper. Christ, this was my parting gift for spending $157, like when you buy too much makeup from Lancome and they hit you with some lame nylon bag and a tacky lipstick for free...

What a relief. I knew I did the right thing despite the poor karmic consequences! In fact, at this point I'm convincing myself the free toilet paper was a gift from the New Year's Resolution Gods - they are smiling on me as I make better choices, authentic Mollie Nelson choices that will ultimately benefit my three little ladies. Even if that means frozen dinners and more processed food... that doesn't have to be the norm, nor does it have to be forever. It's simply a choice for now.

Just now.

And that's enough.

Conundrum with the Shrinky Dink

2008-12-08T20:37:00.000-05:00

The weird thing about therapy is...

being in therapy.

I am spending a lot of time debating whether any of my time and money spent focusing on myself is useful. I know that's a pretty defeatist attitude, and I know some of that attitude is fueled by some not-so-encouraging family members. How shitty is that? I've also been reminded by Myles that therapy is really a luxury of the upper-middle class. This of course makes me feel HORRIBLE. We can pay for therapy, it's true. And we aren't victims of sexual assault, alcoholics, addicts or members of the lower economic strata... more guilt for my brain. I can't stand it.

This week my assignment was to work on checking in on how I FEEL, rather than trying to tackle some big task (like applying to school, finding childcare, being honest with my mother, calling my financial advisor). I found it pretty funny to realize that I view a therapist like a teacher or a coach giving me homework, and I want concrete things to look for, to mend, to solve... She would rather I take some time to breathe and notice where I'm at emotionally with the things I do.

And the result from this week: nothing. I felt yucky thinking about myself too much.

So I did what I usually do, and have done for the last 13 years, which is to kind of disconnect from my internal dialogue and get involved with doing stuff. We started gingerbread houses with the twins, we decorated the tree, I made beef stew (hysterical... stew always makes me think about Beef Stroke-me-off), I'm making appointments and play dates all over the place. Myles is working his ass off and I can barely think about what he's up to. This is how I deal and distract myself. Why would I want to stop and FEEL how I feel? Especially during the holiday season, when we are more focused on family and friends and rituals... Why bother with ourSELVES?

Acknowledging all of these things has been really really exhausting - yet somehow I am still scrambling around, finding people to look after the kids so I can take myself to the little tiny office above the bank in town... to sit with my shoes off, in an overstuffed couch, face to face with an 50 year old jewish lesbian from Brooklyn who thinks she can help me out. If you had told me this would be my reality 10 years ago I would have laughed in your face.

At the end of the day I do convince myself that the therapist is good. She reminds me that in the end, all we really have is ourselves. When I consider how individual happiness positively affects the people around you - I can't argue against that. So I'm sold on taking care of myself. I just feels kind of lame to admit it.

so much for photos

2008-11-22T22:55:00.000-05:00

Myles got to spend his birthday on call in the NICU. I got to spend the day freezing my ass off with the kids.

I am so sick and tired of static hair... which is a bad sign, considering it's November.

The wood stove is excellent. Retrieving wood from the wood pile is not.

I can make a perfect chocolate cake with 3 children under the age of 4.

I am on day 4 of diarrhea diapers with Penny (this is the kind of virus that hangs around for 7-10 days, hurrah).

My lips are so chapped that they look like I've put lip liner on.

I won a bid on eBay for limited edition perfume. I can't decide whether I'm proud of it or not...

empty

2008-11-18T22:45:00.000-05:00

Here's what's weird: I arrive at this page and think... fuck, now that I'm talking to a therapist once a week, I have nothing to share with my friends. I'm drained! My verbal diarrhea is all seized up. It's a sensation akin to constipation.

The emotions I'm confronting in the shrink's office are so deeply disconcerting and enlightening - I want to smile and cry about everything.

As for kid news, Eloise doesn't have a broken foot. Just a bad sprain (inflicted by her twin sister of course).

Perhaps my next post will have pictures from our kid-free weekend in NYC... lots of good times, good food, good people (MY PEOPLE) and a beautiful wedding.

thanks and i love you

2008-11-11T09:45:00.000-05:00

Just a brief howdy to send my appreciation to you guys for loving emails and support. I know my last post sounded horrible. I didn't mean to scare anyone into thinking my marriage is done. I am happy, however, to let everyone in on the fact that Myles and I have LOTS to work on as a couple.

Beyond that, I need to work on myself!

Off to take Eloise to the doctor. We think she might have broken a little bone in her foot...

Honesty... Policy

2008-10-29T23:06:00.000-04:00

As I just typed the title out I felt my heart get huge. I can hear it throbbing in my head now and my toes feel numb.

I'm not being fair to myself by never writing about how difficult my relationship with Myles happens to be. Plenty of you readers know some of our struggles... you know how we have operated as a unit for about 12-13 years now... but with all this moving around and child-keeping, we have suffered. It's a horrible horrible sad reality that I am completely terrified to address in any real way. I am not really honest with YOU about how much I hurt on a daily basis, I am not really honest with Myles about how icky I feel about us, I am not really honest with my children (actually, I try to keep them from any emotional turmoil, which is neither honest nor real) and most importantly this means I am not honest with myself.

I started some therapy the other day, which has sparked this particular blog. It has some potential to cause MAJOR DISASTER for me.

For us.

So I'm attempting to be honest. Just a little bit. And then maybe you will have to read between the lines in the entries down the road.

Or it will all get juicier.

WARNING!

2008-10-20T13:08:00.001-04:00

DSC_0118
Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

This photo tells the story of my life right now. Penelope does absolutely everything to ensure she's in danger at all times. Looking for a bee at the bottom of a water-filled bucket... can you say "drowning hazard"?

Yesterday she fell off of 3 different chairs in the kitchen and took a spill down our cement front steps. I guess that's better than the time she fell backwards from the large boulder in our driveway and landed with her diaper-butt stuck in a rodent hole. No injuries thus far... but with a pediatric resident as father I have been convinced that a trip to the E.R. should follow shortly.

Oh, and HUGE photo upload at my Flickr site... click on the Penny pic here and it should take you there. View the slideshow titled VT Fall 2008 if you have a minute or two. You are so jealous that you don't live here. New England Paradise... complete with tempting apples.

Ms. Martin

2008-10-19T21:43:00.001-04:00

Ms. Martin
Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

Ly. You are truly amazing. I know this is quite possibly one of the craziest shots I've ever taken of you (save for one or two "playing dead" pics from Idaho Camping Trip 1991), but it just speaks volumes.

First of all, there's an accessory on your head. Then there's the fact that you are on a ride on lawnmower (confirming your love of sterotypically male power tools/objects), and the story behind your pond... which you are afraid to mow close to for fear of falling in. Now, how could I ever forget that this was taken on the day that my daughter Ruby barfed all over the back seat of my minivan... I mean blew chunks of the grossest possible vomit everywhere... and you single-handedly cleaned it up without a complaint, like it was something you did often and even enjoyed. I'm thrilled that I managed to get a photo in before that drama unfolded. Good story to share for years I'm sure.

Well, to finish up, I am really indebted to you forever. I'm trying to figure out what it is I should do to repay you for your kindness and support. How cool is it that I finally have one of my oldest friends living only 20 minutes away? And who else would let my kids pour their own maple syrup and put gummi bears on their pancakes?

I hope you don't hate me for making this shot moderately public. I'll manage to convince you that such a visual masterpiece only comes in the most special of situations.

I love you to pieces.

Oh No I Didn't...

2008-10-07T14:29:00.001-04:00

A third kegstand
Originally uploaded by higgott

How much do we like the team of ladies holding up my dress?

Hello, is it me you're lookin' for...

2008-10-04T23:32:00.001-04:00

To my loyal peeps... I will try really hard to get my act together and post pictures, but for now my spanking new computer in the basement won't give me decent wireless connection, so uploading is impossible.

Busy times upon us all right now. Myles seems to be working constantly - meaning I'm "working" twice as hard too. With the crisp fall air and the surreal colors of the leaves all around our home, my head is spinning. I find myself at a loss for words. I'm busy making food again... pies are next on the list. Already tackled chicken soup.

Penny is 15 months as of yesterday.

Honestly, I'm having trouble wrapping my head around the concept of my family and what it all means.

I'll try to write more. And more often.

P.S. What are you doing to ensure that Obama wins in November? We don't want to wake up on Nov. 5th with a nasty dose of McLame lovers rejoicing, do we?

The Burrito

2008-09-19T21:37:00.001-04:00

Conversation overheard all week at nursery school pickup:

Random parent friend: "So, how was your trip?"
Me: "Amazing. I had this perfect burrito..."

It's not really fair to blog again without a photo - at least after an insanely fun 4 day solo trip to San Francisco. There's too much to share. But if I had to choose some choice thoughts to share from my excursion I'd go with these:

*Being away from my family is fun to a point, and then it starts to feel weird and wrong. Amazing, but it took a good 24 hours to discover that I am not and will never be the same person I was before I had kids... I mean, sometimes I fantasize that just being alone and traveling will allow me to be the way I used to be. NOPE. Even the keg stand and the lack of sleep didn't do it for me.

*Spending time with my favorite old friends, acting like there's no distance between us, and then having to separate to different states, countries, cities is PAINFUL. Why do we torture ourselves like this? We need one another. I'm perfectly capable of finding new friends anywhere I go (thankfully) but my college friends are the people I would choose to raise my family along side... to share our marriage woes, our parenting conundrums... and we are really worlds apart. This crazy computer is our glue. Again, weird. What I wouldn't do to live around the corner from Leah and Beth..

*One of my most satisfactory moments during the trip involved a burrito. A huge carnitas super burrito. The works... probably laden with plenty of lard, but not without perfect salsa, guac, sour cream, rice, beans, shredded pork. As long as my abdomen is wide. And I only had a tiny tortilla portion left at the end of my eating session. It was revolutionary and meant to be (the parking place directly in front of the restaurant was the sign). To sit still with my dear friend Beth and make lots of smacky sounds and comment on the flavor dimensions... and without children interrupting me. I was transformed for a moment, and I actually didn't miss the kids.

*Travel is healthy. And by that I don't mean traveling alone. Going places with the family is a great way to teach yourself and your children about the world (how easily I forgot that simple concept). While we took a brief outing to a beach I was awestruck by the Pacific Ocean... oh, and the Golden Gate bridge. Simple landmarks, monster changes in geography, ethnic food, unfamiliar smells in the air. It's all just plain good for your soul to experience new things. No, we don't all have $600 to throw at plane tickets, but we can hop in a car and head to the next state over. Or the next town that we know nothing about... so what if the kids complain the entire way? Or they scream the entire flight? Or they miss their nap and we all have a horrible night's sleep? The world has so much to offer us and I'm feeling guilty about ignoring it.

Anyone want some visitors?

3 Cords

2008-09-11T00:03:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

Oh my. This is what you are supposed to have in order to prepare yourself for winter up here.

And that nice land of ours behind the woodpile will be COVERED in snow some day soon.

This begins my enormous photo sharing... lots of places visited, lots of old friends, lots of new stuff like school and gymnastics class (still undocumented, but I promise some leotard shots in the future).

stackin' heat

2008-09-10T23:58:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

Hazel and Rowan Visit!

2008-09-10T23:57:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

A great thing about living in VT again is our proximity to old friends. We shared a gorgeous afternoon playing... and catching up. (These kiddos mom and I were pregnant at the same time and attended birthing class together.)

5 Granddaughters and one more on the way!

2008-09-10T23:54:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

So great to see the cousins for a day... we miss them terribly.

My sister is having her baby via c-section on Friday morning. Apparently the baby is sideways! Why does this have to be the same day that I'm leaving for a 4 day trip to San Francisco?

"That goat is lookin' at me!"

2008-09-10T23:51:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

(Thank you Brian Fellow for allowing me to steal a quote for my title...)

The girls absolutely adore animals... which is why I jumped at the opportunity to see my friend Ellen up in Burlington for a day. I drove up there for a busy busy day trip, saw my mother-in-law, ran into our old babysitter, had some flatbreads, threw everyone back in the car to visit Shelburne Farms (one of my most favorite landmarks in the world) and had a chinese food dinner at Ellen's parents' house. I drove the girls home in their jammies - they were all sacked out in the back of the minivan while I grabbed a listen to Al Gore's speech at the Democratic Convention on the radio.

Not Me

2008-09-10T23:44:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

Penelope. You are just not me at all. Maybe in personality we could have some things in common, but honestly people think I stole you from the cute baby adoption center. Or that I special ordered you from South America...

My Experience of the Barefoot Potluck Wedding

2008-09-10T23:41:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

Complete with summer's most popular shade of nail polish.

Show Me Your Most Serious Faces...

2008-09-10T23:40:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

HA! Really. I told them to look very very serious. Does this explain why they never respond to me when I shout, "Girls! Seriously! I mean it!"

Monster Bugs!

2008-09-10T23:38:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

When my daughters get mosquito bites on their face, this is what happens. Poor Ruby got a fat black eye from this recent episode... Why don't I remember this happening to anyone back when we were kids? I see children all over the place with this type of allergic reactions to the "common mosquito". Hmmmm...

Full of Pie

2008-09-10T23:35:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

Right after their first successful contra dance, the girls stuffed themselves with blueberry pie and chilled out on dad's lap.

mission accomplished

2008-09-10T23:33:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

I only managed to contribute to the very beginning of the wood stacking. Full credit should be given to Myles, with assistance from Raani.

Sign me up for early fall fires. Eeek.

milestones

2008-08-26T21:42:00.001-04:00

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Hindsight. You know what they say.

Recently I've been encountering something huge inside that has been welling up for years. I'm growing into a new me by reconnecting with the old me. The original Ms. Nelson is attempting to make a comeback... like, maybe, Ms. Nelson: The Revised Edition.

When I took this shot of Penny she had just celebrated her 1st birthday. It blows my mind to reflect on her physical skills - to know that Ruby and Eloise were taking their first wobbly steps at 12 months, and it would be several months after that when they would even dare to throw a leg over a rocking horse. I believe Eloise finally decided to tackle a playground ladder at 2.5 years - and Penny climbs to the top bunk at 13 months. We all talk about how little Pickle has a lot to look up to, big girls to learn from and model after, but what strikes me as odd is the degree to which I forget how I used to be about Ru and El's "developmental milestones". And to know now how meaningless many of those things can be! I love to look back on what I have learned during this mom gig and laugh. My concerns and paranoia and my "will it ever end?"s...

Hopefully I can be supportive and helpful when my sister gives birth to her first child this September, but I have decided to remind her that in parenting, the advice and wisdom from other sources only makes sense once you have endured the worst: those sleepless nights, the lonely days, the first fevers, the family-wide illnesses, the horrific car rides and the aborted vacations. How about the day I decided to throw away my parenting books? Relief.

And if my mom had told me to stop reading online parenting advice, I would have proclaimed how "it's just what my generation does." In the end, she was right though. For me, the best solution to my mommy-woes was finding friends and shooting the shit.

Perspective.

That's where I'm at these days. The air in the house starts getting colder at around 4:45 pm, and by 7 pm I've closed the windows up for the night. Right about the time when one season ends and another is about to begin I get full of self-reflection and I start completing tasks and getting creative again. I do the big check-in and try to make a step forward... or a step somewhere.

But in reality the end of August hints at fall way too early in these parts. If I could only bottle this kind of productivity and energy and take a shot of it when the Vermonters start to hibernate. Or when my Procrastination Demon comes for an extended visit and Penny has mastered ice skating at 18 months.

Mamarama

2008-08-07T20:12:00.000-04:00

I just have to put this out there: having a bunch of great conversations about my last post with moms and non-moms alike, I realized how difficult it is to get here to post words about my sorry-ass Webster life. I am pretty hard on myself I guess, and for no good reason. I read too many mommy blogs (and no, if you are a friend of mine, I don't compare myself to you... it's those random links to moms that I don't know) and they drive me AWAY from this medium. When I'm feeling dark and pessimistic other mothers articulations of my exact feelings bring me down down down... into a terrible, stupid, teenager kind of place. When I'm feeling decent and empowered, other random momblogs make me feel connected to this lovely (almost underground) society that we have created as modern day computer crazy mothers.

But I"m thinking about this: real connectedness. I mean, connectedness shouldn't even be a word it sounds so horrible... but I like to think back to times when mothers took care of one another in a different way. When we didn't have technology and instant internet gratification, what did our moms do? That's the good stuff - (and occasionally the BAD BAD stuff because there were those moms that were in the dark and isolated, I know) and what I'm talking about are those badass mothers that did fucking everything because that's all they had to do. That's all they could do. They were technically sad and oppressed as far as feminism might be concerned... but for someone like my mom, or Myles' grandmother, they had serious survival skills. These ladies had husbands who expected dinner on the table every night. They didn't get to sleep in on weekends and give the kids over to dad so they could go to yoga class. They did all the shopping, cleaning, cooking and they didn't get their husbands to partake in "babywearing". Kids were their profession in a way. Homemakers. Remember?

Well, what did they do to deal with their identity crises, failing marriages, infidelities, ppd, anxiety, and recreation an/or loss of self?

What I'm getting at is this: they took care of one another face to face. Or they listened to one another's voices over the telephone...

Make a spinach and sweet potato-laced brownie out of these thoughts now, m'kay?

bloop

2008-08-01T21:08:00.000-04:00

Ew! I've become that blogger who abandons their readers for too long... and then I get enveloped in this battle of how to re-emerge into your lives, how to update you on our hectic scene. Clearly I'm at a loss. My camera has been found, but now I'm battling technology with a 5 year old computer and a hatred for "backing up" files on disc and deleting them. If I upload 200 photos to this thing it might explode... but I'm dying for the freedom to inundate this fucking blog with my new pics.

The girls have grown again - all three of them. I continually ask myself who these creatures are that I've created... and how did I bring them into the world? Each one so different. They surprise me daily with their observations - particularly the twins with their commentary on gender:

"I don't think Boppy (a.k.a. grandpa) likes unicorns very much. Does he? Maybe we could draw him a boy unicorn with a beard."

Wait, do I have two four year old daughters who can already draw unicorns and rainbows? How the hell did this happen? And Penny! Holy shit what a fucking handful of squishy insanity! She's constantly on the move and into mischief... making car and truck sounds, falling down, climbing stairs, opening and closing EVERYTHING, insisting on using her own utensils at meals, saying, "yeah" when you ask her a question. And eating more blueberries than necessary... which brings me to the title of this blog.

To those of you who have kids and who have fed them blueberries (or anything round that has a "skin" on it) you know what I mean. The poopy diaper is not filled with just plain poop. It's BLOOP. And it leaves their cute little butt crack in a baboon-like situation. Same thing for feeding them strawberries and oranges... if you aren't careful you can give your child's ass a citric acid burn. And those raisins you fed your kid... re-hydrated on the other end they are grapes. Oh and corn... CORN! A corn filled diaper is a disaster. The bulk is completely overwhelming and you wonder if there's really any nutritional value to corn in the first place. (I know, actually, corn has no nutritional value. Corn is corrupt. But nowhere is it more evident than in your child's diaper. Or on your muffin top.)

So we have been blueberry picking, we have been pond swimming, we repeatedly go to farmers' market, we hop on our neighbors trampoline. I do a lot of cleaning up, feeding, shuttling, yelling, scolding, apologizing, tickling. When I have a second to myself I can be found emailing, checking my facebook page or watching So You Think You Can Dance and the new Project Runway.

Facebook has actually made me feel like a sad old housewife - looking at some sweet shots of my hectic youth posted by high school friends hurts in ways I never imagined possible. (Which leads me to think, how do you feel when you are 65?) But I could sit and obsess about how svelte I used to be, how stoned, how carefree, how clueless or I could take a deep breath and realize how much I've learned in the last 15 years... the greatest enlightenment arriving with motherhood. (ugh. I said motherhood. Isn't that the name of a maternity clothing store? Makes me think of unflattering nursing bras and cheesy floral print acrylic "blouses" ...) So I've had almost 5 years with my new persona... and please fellow mommies, agree with me here that YOU become a new person when you bring a child into the world... and I finally feel comfortable both mourning the old Ms. Nelson and cultivating the new one.

For the moment my girls are asleep, I've fed and bathed all 3 of them, I've settled into my couch corner, and I am alone in this house in the woods, listening cautiously to the noises outside (and no, I don't like that branch-breaking sound I just heard) and feeling fortunate to have a husband who spends a couple nights a week at the hospital. (In the immortal words of Brian Fellow on Safari Planet: "Get him away from me!")

Don't get me wrong - this quasi-single mom gig is tough - but it reminds me that I'm capable of anything. And in what seems like 2 minutes, my kids are older and more independent, and my glory days have yet to come.

And Still No Photos...

2008-07-12T21:40:00.000-04:00

Our Nantucket "vacation" will be over in 2 days - and although I know we will be back again, it always hurts a little to leave this paradise. As I mentioned before I am without camera... and having fallen in love with my digital SLR last summer (literally, rediscovering some instant creative gratification) I have had to digest every visual moment that passes here in a different way. I'm constantly adding to a mental list of all of the things I would have taken a picture of: Penny's sweet face with birthday cupcake all over it, Ru and El twirling in their fancy twirly skirts in the grass, giant, frightening waves at Miacomet beach, tiny wet stones at low tide, drip castles on the sand bar, jellyfish and hermit crabs, my mom's 65th birthday cake and this lovely old funky house. We are headed for a big kitchen and 3 bedroom renovation here come September and I'm feeling kind of torn about it. This kitchen has been part of my summers for 28 years - and I can't tell you how many naughty shenanigans have taken place on the center island table. How many quarters were bounced... that circular burn from a bong... the tequila shot messes, etc.. If my camera were here I would do my best to record the nuances of our crowded old kitchen, the over-stocked and disorganized pantry that you have to duck into.

Maybe it's just me, maybe I've been one of those lucky few who gets to return year after year to the same fantasy place of our childhood. But now I get to share that nostalgia with my children and it makes me completely nutty and contemplative. I get THOUGHT HEAVY when I'm here. Sometimes I even think I hear my heart beating like a ticking clock as I lie on the beach (which nowadays lasts for 30 seconds before I have to rescue a baby from the perils of the ocean) and wonder how in the world did I not cherish every youthful, sensuous, gorgeous second on this island. I can see that the twins have fallen in love with Nantucket already. They tell me what smells yummy on the way to the beach (in all the right spots) and they obsess over the same toys and board games that I played with when I was little. They are consistently spoiled and given sweets by their doting, delicious and cozy grandmother. My mom packs the most excellent cooler full of food for the beach... napkins included.

But back to me being thought-heavy... ugh. It gets heavy! I keep wondering what the next step is for me and when I'm going to feel ready to get back into a creative career... and WHY I need to plan this out. I wish it would just unfold, but I'm finally certain that I am a bad planner, and if I could organize my thoughts for the future adequately then maybe, just maybe some day we could buy our own Nantucket cottage down the road. Maybe I could have an art show here one day. Maybe I could have a print studio and give print classes to kids for the summer. Maybe I could let go of being "a really good mom" as a profession.

I honestly cannot conceive of the balance and organization that it would take for a person like me to be a part-time working mom. It sounds spoiled, I know... most people have it way worse than I do... but I am owning up to my complete and total incapacity when it comes to pursuing my career. I have been enabled by my incredibly generous mother! That's the sad reality.

It feels both good and horribly embarrassing to say all of this.

So Damn you Nantucket for drawing overly sappy, introspective blog entries out of me. And Fuck You Nikon D40 for disappearing and making me write too much.

Visuals Down!

2008-06-30T23:36:00.000-04:00

Oh how sad. I've lost my camera... and i'm too lazy to deal with uploading my iPhone photos for the moment. But without a visual record I'm paying extra special attention to all of the details of our Nantucket vacation.

I missed my 5th anniversary with Myles. He was post call anyway so I figured he might have slept the day away and we aren't necessarily the ceremonious type. This time apart gives me a little more time to sit with the concept of a PAPER gift to commemorate 5 years of marriage. ( I'd be happy giving a paper gift every year.)

Ruby and Eloise are incredible little 4 year olds enjoying all of the details of a charmed summer vacation space.

Penny will be 1 on July 3rd - and no longer nurses. Three days of not nursing and no big deal. She's more interested in cars, bicycles, balls and walking to be bother with boobs.

Sad I guess, but she wasn't a huge nursing fan anyway. I kept trying to make it a cozy time for us to share together, and eventually i felt like I was forcing it into our routine. Weird. Considering that I probably won't have another child, that portion of my life is over. (Feast on that thought fellow women... your child-bearing and useful mammary phase is over... what next?? Mid-life crisis?)

For final notes I'm going to address three topics that have occupied my mind recently, and you can discuss them with your friends:

*Why are 12 year old babysitters the best babysitter?

*What is the significance of having children if you (and your partner) don't spend the majority of your time taking care of them?

*What is the importance of having lots of STUFF? What is it like to be able to afford anything you want?

"back-to-the-land"

2008-06-21T22:28:00.000-04:00

We are here and we own land. Ten acres of real land. We have a lawn that leads down to some woods, which lead down to a meadow. I thought having 3.5 bathrooms was exciting... but then I saw the meadow and I realized that this new home is all about the OUTSIDE and not necessarily the inside. (Well, the inside is incredible to... but wouldn't you rather hear about a meadow?) I mean, when was the last time you saw a meadow? (A Central Park meadow does not count.) Once I find my camera I'll take a picture of the girls standing in the grass. It might reach their chins, and is probably filled with ticks, but we'll head out in the tall grass so you get the idea.

Ruby and Eloise have adjusted really well to this new place. They have helped me set up my herb garden, they have taken a couple of good walks in the woods looking for snails, mushrooms and deer tracks, they have written letters to friends from school... it's been pretty great. My friend's sister already scored us a nice babysitter last night and Myles and I went out for the first time in about 6 months. I'm actually waiting for something terrible to happen because I'm feeling extremely lucky. Maybe this brief moment of "happiness" is just payback for the turmoil and uncertainty that we've been presented with Myles' career path over the past few years. Whatever it is - I cannot describe how elated I feel when I wake up in the morning to birds chirping all around, and I can see nothing but trees, hilltops and sky. Our bedroom makes me feel like I'm at a spa. I kid you not.

Maybe my dark cloud lurks just around the corner, when I'm stuck managing 3 kids and Myles isn't home for 30 hours at a time. But owning this property is a crazy crazy treat. I suppose I should enjoy the sunshine while it lasts.

Oh, speaking of treats... Miss Penny has figured out how to walk on her tiny, pudgy feet - and she's fast! She also has discovered how to hold a crayon and vandalize when nobody is looking. Perhaps she was watching Ruby drawing "E"s with craypas all over the Little Tykes play house and decided she wanted to play naughty too. Which leads me to ask, did Ruby really think that I'd be fooled with the E's? (That kind of cleverness deserves it's own post. My girls have become quite the smartasses.)

So to punctuate this entry I am going to invite any of you to come and visit whenever you can. There is plenty of room - and I'd like to take you for a little walk in our woods. By then I'll have learned how to forage for wild leeks and morels... savory tarts all around! No really. The best thing about our land is that I get to share it with people. So call now to book your weekend.

Strong Dislike

2008-05-31T22:38:00.001-04:00

I hate packing. I fucking hate it. I always said I'd pay to have the movers pack for me if I had to move again, but considering how impractical that all seems, we decided to do the majority of it ourselves. I'm dreading those final boxes that we pack labeled "MISC."... and the annoyance that results when you can't figure out the right way to pack garbage cans, power strips, brooms, telephones and perishables at the last second. And then it's usually impossible to find that very box when you get to your final destination... what box did we put the dish rack in? Oh, and did I even consider to pack clothing in something other than a "wardrobe box"? Because I might be wearing the same black tank tops for the next 3 months...

My home that I made cozy over the last 2 years is being dismantled and is crumbling into dustbunnies. Our walls are empty. I'm dreading the wrap-up party for the fragile shit in the china cabinet. Padding the champagne flutes makes me nervous. And the antique sugar bowl from my mom's cousin...

The kids toys and the kitchen will be the last things to get packed, for fear of bringing on too much emotional trauma too quickly in the mind of the 4 year old! Meanwhile, I'm feeling on and off sick... trying to piece together the "right" way to approach this relocation. Will it be permanent? Do I want it to be? Am I going to throw in the towel and settle on being a Vermonter for the rest of my life? Will I ever EVER get to visit Manhattan in the next 2 years? Why is the Manchester airport 1.5 hours from Norwich? Why is Nantucket even farther than that?

In this swirl of Unknowns I'm frightened of how apathetic I am. I don't really care about my own mental health because I'm too concerned about my sensitive little monkeys that have to leave their best friends and excellent school. I literally have gotten really good at shrugging my shoulders over this process... we moved to NYC in 2001, we moved back to Burlington in 2002, and then again to another Burlington spot in 2003, and then left Burlington for Providence in 2006. Experts! Myles likes to tell me that the average American family moves 3-5 times in their lifetime. But that just gives me another reason to believe that Americans are a bunch of misdirected loonies!

On that note, I've killed my reserve battery power... goodnight.

The Gold Team... all brains.

2008-05-21T10:58:00.001-04:00

Go Gold!
Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

Her Fleshyness

2008-05-21T10:53:00.001-04:00

High Speed Countdown

2008-05-19T11:15:00.000-04:00

Where does all the time go? Already we have tackled many of our spring "milestones"... Wheeler School Field Day, our "Going Away/Birthday Party", Teacher Appreciation Day, many friends' birthdays. My sister moved into her new house (she's expecting a baby in the fall), we have pretty much sold ours (lucky!), Penny can climb the stairs and has started to sign some words. Now all we have to do is manage a trip to Manhattan this weekend, prepare for 2 "Star of the Day" days at school, have a goodbye function at school, go to a final swim class and have an end of the year ballet performance. Oh, and we have to pack up this entire house.

What the hell people?

I cannot believe I have to leave this place. I have such a love of Providence and all things Rhode Island. I'll be leaving with my brand new bottle of Autocrat Coffee Syrup... to make coffee milk with good VT dairy! Now all I need is a case of frozen "stuffies" and a shipment of gingerbread muffins from Seven Stars Bakery. What about all of my sweet neighbors and all of Ruby and Eloise's lovely friends? What about my glamorous consignment shop that pays me good money for my old clothes? What about my cat? Will he be eaten alive in the woods of Norwich?

So many unknowns... but as the clock ticks, I'm pretty good about living in denial and coasting along like nothings really going to change. I did the same thing when we left Burlington, and it seemed to work out alright.

I'll let you know when I stop eating and break out into hives.

Stay tuned for my photo posts.

Hit the B Square

2008-05-16T21:34:00.000-04:00

I love the idea of tackling this kind of dance project. A few weeks ago I was at a "book group" night with my lady friends discussing the very importance of our choreographed pop songs on bad boom boxes. We all had stories and favorite soundtracks... like my friend Heather who fondly remembers doing her Billy Jean routine to her dog (the only family member who cared).

Did I ever tell any of you that I thought this song was called "Hit the B Square"?

A Stairway To...

2008-05-09T10:32:00.003-04:00

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Kid Heaven

2008-05-09T10:32:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

A Wood Burning Stove!

2008-05-09T10:31:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

"Movin' On Up"

2008-05-09T10:30:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

NO, we aren't moving quite yet, but I though I'd post a photo or two of our future home. This will be our kitchen. I CANNOT believe we are lucky enough to deserve such a space. It freaks me out just looking at those windows! Will this really be ours?

Stinky Cheese Face

2008-04-28T11:00:00.001-04:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

Ru and El went to the most insane Princess birthday party a few weeks ago. The goody bag was enormous and filled with at least $15 worth of crap... and there were at least 12 little princesses in attendance. Princess Belle came and painted their faces, sang songs and played games with them. They were served a healthy lunch and a gourmet birthday cake (that looked like it was made by the Ace of Cakes on the Food Network)... all of this at the fucking Agawam Hunt Club. It was amazing, but I have to say I'm excited to get our asses to Vermont so we can bring some perspective back into our kids lives.

Wait until I tell you about their first sleep-over at their best friend Sophie's house. (It involves a large bubble bath, Baby Bulgari Perfume, dinner at a Japanese steak house, etc.)

This particular photo was taken after the birthday party. Ruby's new thing is to make stinky cheese face for pictures. Oh, and don't you love that she wanted a pink unicorn painted on her cheek?

My house is overflowing with unicorns.

9 months of Penelope

2008-04-28T10:53:00.001-04:00

9 months of Penelope
Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

At this point, some of you have already seen this photo... and considering that Penny will be 10 months soon, I thought I should post this dumpling shot.

I cannot explain how hard it is to keep my teeth off of her. Her Fleshy-ness has magical powers over me. Sometimes I refer to her as Ms. Fleshypants, or DJ Fleshy Flesh. Wait until her thighs tan up this summer... she can't keep the sun away!

needs and wants

2008-04-13T18:16:00.000-04:00

I got my hair cut yesterday - and despite my requests to have a cut like Padma's on Top Chef, I ended up with something shorter and slightly more "suburban-housewife" than I had hoped. Now, Providence isn't exactly the hippest place on the planet, but there is a nice little downtown area that is trying to establish itself as a Soho-like place to shop. Needless to say, I haven't done any shopping there (or anywhere for that matter) in the last year, and there are some lovely little boutiques with pricey clothes and jewelry. After feeling slightly "updated" into a more cosmopolitan status with my freshly cut locks, I walked out of my glam salon and browsed a couple of these shops. What a bad idea! It hasn't occurred to me how hideous my wardrobe has become because I just don't get out much... clearly shopping with 3 kids is impossible, and convincing Myles that I need to go shopping doesn't cut it. He always says, "Oh. So you NEED pair of jeans?" I'm tired of convincing him that jeans from 3 years ago don't make me feel good... and that the knees are all blown out and make me look like I'm an extra in Footloose.

Holy shit though. Even if did buy the new jeans I wanted, it would cost me over $100. This is the kind of stuff I want. I don't want Old Navy and Gap. I don't even want J Crew. What is wrong with me people? I gave up my super-trashy weekly magazines, but I cling to my tacky subscriptions to Lucky, Domino and Vogue. I know that's partly what makes me WANT WANT WANT. Otherwise I'm not sure I'd pay much attention. But these crappy periodicals are like my little lifeline to my former self. Miss Nelson. Remember her? I kind of do. She liked living in the city, shopping for trendy shit at sample sales and blowing money on expensive dinners and drinks... she took good care of her fingers and toes, she smelled nice and had good haircuts. Always appropriately waxed. But then Miss Nelson had kids.

Poof!

Miss Nelson is still missing...

My materialism has become so complicated that I decided to reconsider my "wants" and narrow them down to true "needs" - Because ultimately there are more important things to consider - like how you pay the bills and maintain good credit so we can buy a house. But no matter how hard I try to give up some of my former obsessions, I can't ignore that voice in my head that says, "Who have you become? And how did you become this new person so willingly?"

There's nothing like a move back to Vermont to make me feel in touch with my inner City Girl. (Perhaps it wasn't a haircut that I was looking for yesterday, but a confirmation that I'm still ME deep down. And when I say haircut, I'm talking about the kind of salon that gives you a latte when you arrive and scrubs your head for 15 minutes... aaahhh.) So yes, despite my recent dry and frugal moments, I'm still a crazy glutton. I appreciate over-priced fashion. I still can easily spend $20 on import cheese without guilt. What will Norwich VT do with me? Fuck. I mean, I think we are buying a house from a Mormon family! (Any suggestions on how to cleanse the house from the spirit of Joseph Smith?)

Well, back to my initial point, I have decided that I can't let a location change take any of the remaining sass out of me... I'm so afraid to be stuck in hideous footwear for 8 months out of the year. When there is snow on the ground most of the time, you become practical and frumpy - how BORING.

Clearly I'm exaggerating about this Fear of the Frump, but I see it as a reflection of some other pending adjustments that I have to make in my mind. Like how I am afraid of taking Ruby and Eloise out of an incredible school and plopping them into a mediocre 4 day a week program... ew.

see! I'm such a fucking snot.

Busted.

why my brother is awesome...

2008-04-07T22:02:00.000-04:00

We really liked going to "Mexico" at Epcot.

why my parents are awesome...

2008-04-07T21:46:00.000-04:00

Live Free Or Die

2008-03-31T21:03:00.000-04:00

Apologies for my lack of photos... they have yet to make it onto my computer after our long trip.

But more importantly, we are headed back into the mountains. Myles ended up having to scramble into a Pediatrics residency spot at Dartmouth. I guess the anesthesia programs of the northeast weren't ranking him, so he chose the best possible option. And the funny thing is that I think it's ultimately the best fit for him. He just doesn't know it yet.

People keep asking me how I'm doing. I'm responding with a lot of nervous grins and uncomfortable "you know, I think things like this happen for a reason" comments.

Do things like this happen for a reason? Maybe they do for the sake of showing Myles that he has a gift for working with children...

But what lesson am I learning?

Occasionally in a relationship there is compromise... and other times we throw up our arms and surrender.

2008-03-14T21:59:00.000-04:00

And so they turned four...

And 8 month old Penny applauds wildly.

and we're off...

2008-03-13T21:53:00.000-04:00

All five of us Websters are headed to Disney World for a week starting Saturday morning. My mom and dad and my brother's entire family will be there too - and coincidentally another family from Ru and El's old Montessori school. There should be lots and lots of ridiculous princess crap happening... as well as disgusting unhealthy food, overtired, spoiled and misbehaving children, the occasional rash or sunburn and a lot of laughing. Oh, and swimming. And spending money. (ouch.)

The idea that I have to pack for myself and 3 little girls is pretty overwhelming, which is why I need to get off this fucking machine and get to work.

Did I mention that Penny can crawl AND pull herself up now? And Ruby and Eloise turn 4 tomorrow. And we find out if we have to move again on March 20th. Lots going on in this head of mine.

Prepare yourselves for some super special photos and an update on our future when we return...

A Light in the Attic

2008-02-29T09:31:00.000-05:00

Shel Silverstein. Genius! Who remembers the book "The Giving Tree"? You all MUST remember that one, right?

It begins, "Once there was a tree... and she loved a little boy..." and the tree gives all of herself to the boy as he grows and grows into a greedy grown-up and eventually chops her down to a stump. And it continues from there, "And the tree was happy... but not really." Eventually the boy returns as an old man and needs a place to rest, so he sits on the stump. Again, "the tree was happy".

End of story. So was the tree really happy? Were we all destined to be greedy like the boy?

Today "The Giving Tree" makes more sense than it did when I was young - on so many different levels. When you are young, you relate to the boy, but as a parent now I feel completely in touch with the tree! I understand unconditional giving. You give and give and give every moment to your child that you can. At times I've felt like I wanted to burst from the pressures of self-sacrifice - initially it was such a hard adjustment for me and I was so angry at the world. Why did I feel like I was throwing away my former self for my kids? Why did I have to do this, and why did I feel so guilty about NOT liking the process of giving? I was happy... but not really.

Well, last night Ruby and Eloise recited a short poem to me from memory. It was a Shel Silverstein poem about taking a snowball under the covers - "and when I woke it had wet my bed" (insert goofy kid laughter). So I went and got out Myles' tattered copy of "Where the Sidewalk Ends". More Shel. We picked poems and I happily read all of these memories to my girls. At times I didn't even have to look at the words because they were pouring out of an odd memory bank in the back of my brain. It felt so good. Here were these things that I vividly remember from my childhood! These excellent nonsense poems about dogs with two tails, three guys who go for a ride in a flying shoe, and the unicorns who missed their ride on Noah's ark. Ru and El have hit the age where I will be able to share and appreciate these excellent pieces of literature, not just picture books.

The sacrifice we make for our kids has extraordinary payback. I got another glimpse of that last night - those milestones along the way, like the first "I love you, Mom" out of your kid's mouth, or the first time you realize you wish you could take on all of their pain or illness so that they didn't have to live through it, - those are the things that make being a parent completely rewarding. Recently I've been so pre-occupied with the fear of moving to yet another place, juggling Penny's schedule (or lack thereof) and dealing with financial paranoia that I've almost forgotten to recognize how mature Ruby and Eloise have become. Sharing this old favorite book gave me a small wake-up call.

Last week Eloise said, "Mom, we don't like having curly hair. We want straight hair like Sophie." Shit, I thought. This garbage already? I tell them it's not about the outside, it's the inside that counts... corny corny, I know... but to identical twins that has even more resonance.

And for another grown-up comment, Ruby told me I should return my bruised squash to the market, "like you did with the LAME pistachios." (They WERE lame pistachios for the record. Almost all of the shells were sealed shut.) Note to self: don't say things like "lame", "butt-crack", or "bummer" in regular everyday speech. Fortunately they haven't figured out that I'm the F-Bomb Mommy - at least not yet. I'll let you know when someone says fuck. (Watch it be Penelope's first word. Seriously, if she could talk I think she'd say, "GIVE ME THE FUCKING CHEERIOS! NOW!!!)

So there it is. My kids are my life. I can complain about how hard this job is day in and day out, and how I think society pressures mommies to give too much of themselves - but it is refreshing to know that even reading them a book can remind me how I'd be happy to give them the world; to let them virtually chop off my limbs, and use me as a resting place.

Infinitely happy indeed.

español

2008-02-25T21:57:00.000-05:00

a bright bright sunshiny day...

2008-02-25T21:32:00.000-05:00

One of these blogs that I follow suggested that you shoot your photos into the sun as an experiment. Like a rule-breaking kind of thing. So I quite like this photo of Eloise. It captures her essence just perfectly. (As I write this I'm feeling guilty for not posting a link to the blog that I read regarding photos, life coaching, creativity... not because I don't want to share this with you, but because I'm being an ass about the norms of the blog medium. That is another potential topic entirely... norms of the blog medium. I find myself hooked on a relatively link-free style for many reasons... but really, that's another entry on another day.)

But yes. I just said BLOG as a medium. Currently I work in "blog" and I'm struggling with all that entails and how I've become this blogger of sorts. I don't get many comments posted directly to blogger, which is fine, but I do manage to hear feedback from my pals around the world (yes, you are all around the world) and that is precisely why I do this. You are all so fucking far away and this is a decent method to let you know how my brain and family unit is functioning.

The inspiration for my photo post was an experiment, so I have decided to make a experiment of my own and encourage many of you non-bloggers just to start writing in a blog format to see what happens (you don't have to share it with anybody). Really, this type of writing began as a Doogie Howser, M.D. kind of computer journal I could use to document my days... and then it became a means to communicate... and now it has become a place of curiosity for a tiny community. Many of you are friends, but some of you are quasi-strangers. I invite you upon this entry to let yourself be known in my comments box (and that's okay if there are only 2 of you) and ask me some questions. Or send me your links. Discuss amongst yourself, and in the meantime mess around with shooting into the sun.

All You Need Is Love... Love Is All You Need

2008-02-13T23:46:00.000-05:00

My college graduation present has been sold (silver Golf, 1999). My little twins are not so little any more. I am addicted enough to television that I even take pictures of it. I adore felting lame squares of knitting and making them into coasters. My cat doesn't appreciate Valentines, but Penny knows that 18K rose gold charm bracelets are good for her.

Myles and I have been together for 12 years this summer.

That means my niece Daisy is turning 12 in March, my sister's dog Maggie (who was put to rest last week) was also 12, and I am a really old old lady.

But what a thing to reflect on - loving the same person since the age of 20. I have a few regrets... but they are ultimately trumped by all of our beautiful memories. Enjoy a visit here to have a visual.

change we can believe in

2008-02-11T22:36:00.000-05:00

My friend Heather who has 6 year old daughter sent me an email a few days ago confirming her love of Barack - she writes:

"I am so excited about Barak's wins yesterday. Lets keep it up! I just keep picturing myself telling Dora that he is the president of our country and being so proud to tell her that. Now when she asks about the president I just try to brush it under the carpet or change the subject. Dora already knows the truth about the tooth fairy and Santa (I also explain that we can pretend these things are real if she wants), but I don't have the heart to tell her about Bush and the US government."

I just love her comparing of the mysterious and phony Santa and the scary truth about the US government. Amazing.

Well, for another kind of change, I am off to do a crossword in bed with Myles rather than pollute my brain with more TV. Back when we were child-free we did a bedtime crossword every night. It's time we get back to some honest and healthy togetherness before our relationship wears thin under the pressures of residency...

to my clueless few...

2008-02-11T22:19:00.000-05:00

I've just been alerted by a couple of people that they completely don't understand what my last post was making reference to! Huge apologies for being so vague... but I have a bad case of Obama-mania. (Or should that be ObaMania?) Barack Obama's campaign speeches repeatedly use the phrase "yes we can".

Here goes my first attempt at posting a video to y'all.

Yes We Can

2008-02-06T22:11:00.000-05:00

Seriously. Yes we can.

Yes YOU can.

Do it people... it's long overdue.

New Sweater, New Skill

2008-01-22T11:04:00.001-05:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

Here she is - Ms. Penelope Pickle! What a clever dumpling sitting up by herself... almost a little too clever for my liking. She does these roly-poly moves from a seated position and falls down onto her stomach, where she then manages to inch herself backwards. I remember this phase of Ruby and Eloise's babyhood... you turn the corner for a moment, only to return to find a child stuck under the sofa. When she figures out how to crawl forward I am in serious trouble.

How nice is this hand-knit cardigan she's wearing? My snazzy sister whipped it up in a matter of days. If only I could pull a cute outfit like this together... my fashion has fallen down the drain along side my dish suds. Perhaps that's my next entry: How To Feel Attractive Again.

Just writing that out makes me want to crawl under this desk and cry.

REsolution

2008-01-18T10:32:00.001-05:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

Over the years I have been addicted to paper towels, zip-loc baggies, saran wrap, designer bath wash and packets of wipes. I have been the first to secretly criticize my in-laws for their impressive use of wax paper and recycled yogurt containers for every little leftover food item. I cannot stand BROWN, unbleached, recycled paper towels and their complete inability to effectively wipe up or dry anything (it's just pushing whatever you spilled all around the counter). I have been known to giggle at crusty-ass towels that have been dried on a clothesline or drying rack... thinking they don't really smell fresh or feel particularly nice wiping your face after you get out of a shower. I have scoffed at bar soaps for their dingy, dirty scum that you get to look at all built up on your shower rack or soap dish. I have whined about people who are so environmentally conscious that they would even bother to recycle a fucking piece of tin foil - and better yet I like to make fun of those losers who manage to wrap your peanut butter sandwich in the old foil that previously held your roasted garlic. Hello flavor spoiler... the equivalent of cutting your banana with the onion knife!

Remember that Pantene commercial where some annoying model tossed her hair around and said, "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful?" I've always envisioned my hippie relatives saying, "Don't hate me because I'm frugal".. giving a delicate toss to their grey hair and tossing a little handful of fucking granola with flax seed into their mouth.

So my point is that I have been hyper-critical of anything "green". Hell, I even hate the term "green". It makes my skin crawl... kinda the way that "low-carb", "vegan" or "low-fat" does. I like to be an asshole about people who are healthy and good... because they make me feel horrible about myself and my complete inability to have any self-restraint. Honestly, it doesn't make any sense, except for the fact that that is the way I have been raised to think. I don't blame my parents for anything here, but these sentiments always have a root cause. My mom is a maniac about cleanliness and cleaning solutions, and my father is still in denial about our role in the process of global warming.

But this here is a photo of my new crusty-clothes-creating drying rack. I'm pretty proud of it actually, because it was a struggle for me to really want to put it in my dining room for anyone to see. I've had to let go of the concept of other people's impression of my decor and start thinking of how proud I am to be doing something to save energy and money. (For the record, I still use the dryer, but not nearly as long or as much as before.) Much to my mother's dismay, I haven't put paper towels in my kitchen for over a month. We use numerous washcloths and dish towels for wiping up, cleaning and drying. I have also managed to finish off my favorite shower gels and have moved to bar soaps - which has been a fun transition, considering that there are still a ton of beautiful smelling solid soaps for me to purchase. Think about how much extra plastic waste is created by those silly bottles. I do need to work on finishing up my squirty hand soap dispensers... but that's a tough one for me. I hate dirty bars of soap on the side of the sink...

We also bought some of those HIDEOUS, coiled, florescent "Al Gore" lightbulbs (as my dad likes to call them). They are an interior decorators nightmare... such an unflattering effect on our complexions... but interspersed with regular bulbs here and there I can handle it I guess. Hell, I kind of dig wax paper sandwich bags now.

These are my efforts to adjust my ways for the moment, and once these baby steps become normal to me, I can tackle something else. Being better to the environment is not a resolution. Resolutions don't work... as far as I'm concerned they just end up being disappointing. Instead I choose to refocus. And now I can make fun of myself - instead of other people - when I choose tin foil over plastic wrap.

growing, growing... gone.

2007-12-30T22:14:00.001-05:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

Such sweetness in this little Penelope. She's just bursting with joy most of the time. In the last 3 days, despite our sickly household, I've noticed her range of expressions expanding and she has developed the famous vocabulary of an almost 6 month old. This consists of "lad lad lad", "blablabla", "dadadad" and the rare but oh-so-pleasant "mamama". She is completely excited by anything related to a spoon, making her first two sessions with rice cereal a huge success. For some reason I don't remember Ru and El being that enthusiastic about solid food - but maybe that's a third kid thing.

I see clearly now that this is the point in a mom's life where she looks at her baby and says, "where is my baby going?" I know there are tons of moments in your child's life where you do this, but I don't remember getting to appreciate it quite so much with twins at this stage. All I wanted to do was get them walking and talking. And now I would like for Penny to just slow it down and be a lump of kissable, squeezable heaven for a bit longer... but she has these tremendous big sisters around her doing all kinds of exciting things and she wants to play too. So much for keeping your kittens small and fluffy...

Grannies around the neighborhood swoon when they make Penny smile (which is not that hard, she smiles at creepy toothless drunks and coconuts at the market) and makes moms with two kids say, "Wow. We do think about having another one of these days." (Intoxicating baby vapors seeping from her pores!!)

Fuck it though. She's going to grow up. And there will be times when I'll ask myself, "how the hell did I get myself into this Mom business", or "where did my tiny baby go?"; and there will be times when I'll know that the process of helping my children grow into good people is the best thing I have to offer the world. I just wish it seemed like some of the great moments in my kids lives were happening in slow motion so I could fully appreciate every important detail... or that we could have brief rewinds to snuggle into the back of their tiny baby necks.

Or better yet, I would love to fast forward through cold and flu season.

Oh, HAPPY New Year...

2007-12-30T21:35:00.001-05:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

This was taken on Christmas Eve day when everybody was feeling "okay".

Happy Pneu Year!!!

2007-12-30T21:33:00.001-05:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

There it is folks... the quintessential descriptive photo of Christmas '07! Ruby and Eloise sacked out in the stroller with pneumonia. From my perspective, this has been a rough time watching these little lovelies try to enjoy their holidays feeling like complete crap. They use the nebulizer for asthma and breathing difficulties every 4 hours, they are on antibiotics that aren't helping and they get horrible diarrhea as a side effect. The intense coughing makes them vomit and Myles and I also managed to get a 48 hour stomach virus in the middle of all of this.

Oh yes, and Penny has a cold. She's doing alright for now. We are really a fucking mess though.

Myles' dad made the trip down for Xmas dinner at my mom's house and got to witness Ru and El's intense desire for presents. Once we opened our goodies here, we then headed to Milton, where a large crowd of excellent family friends bestowed gifts on the "sickies"... but once the goodies stopped flowing, Eloise was hanging on my sleeve whining, "are there any more presents" over and over, like a meth addict looking for a fix! Presents are like crack-cocaine to a 3 year old. And the worst of it was that Eloise got to the point where she would unwrap a book and say, "that's not a good present!". HORRORS! What was I to do?

Actually, there was a fair amount of giggling about the girls' behavior - everybody was aware of their sad feverish demeanors and understood what was going on in the "manners" department. But honestly, I had forgotten that gifts could make kids into such monsters.

Rockefeller Center!

2007-12-04T20:54:00.001-05:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

All seven of us wandered down 5th Avenue after our dinner - my dad proudly pushing Penny in the stroller while Myles and I took turns carrying the big girls and pointing out the beautiful window displays. Upon arrival at the big tree, I noticed my dad's eyes all welled up with tears. He confesses that the whole experience just reminds him of coming to Rock Center with his parents, sneaking a peek through the crowds and bundling up together for warmth.

I must say, seeing your grandchildren experience these old family traditions has to have twice the cheese-factor impact. The fact that my DAD - of all people - was filled with sentimental warmth and coziness just makes me proud. Here's a guy who still thinks George Bush is doing an "okay" job... (I cannot believe I just admitted that to my blog readers, but if you know me well enough, you knew that anyway... sorry to disappoint those in the dark) and most of the time I like to write off my dad as being devoid of all human emotion. But there it is! Holiday traditions, family, "American" Christmas hoo-ha... it really pulls at a Republican's heartstrings.

So although I don't agree with his politics, I'm happy that I can occasionally relate to my dad's sentimentality. I remember that he has always kept my mind aware of how the "other side" feels (or doesn't feel!) and for that, I am grateful.

Ruby, Eloise and Penny, what will you teach me when I am old? You have already taught me that living in Manhattan with a family would be next to impossible... unless we won the lottery. What's next?

Finger Lickin' Good!

2007-12-04T20:28:00.001-05:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

BLT Steak. A phenomenal restaurant. I was so well fed and so buzzed by the end of my meal. Is it obnoxious that I took my 3 kids to such a swanky place? I felt like that twitty person that Sex and the City would make fun of... the annoying shit that ruins people's dining experience... except for the fact that my kids were angelic. Penny barely let out a peep! (For the record, she was changed on the bathroom floor of 3 very glam places - no changing tables to be had anywhere. The new Marc Jacobs collection store had such a delicious smelling bathroom that I decided to cart out the poopy diaper in my diaper bag, for fear of being a terrible space-contaminator).

My Parents Rock

2007-12-04T20:21:00.001-05:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

Without these two we wouldn't have made it through our weekend in NYC. First and foremost, Manhattan hotels are completely unaffordable, so we are most thankful for their gift of a place to stay, but we also needed their extra hands to assist us in getting from place to place, restaurant to restaurant, cab to cab. New York is just plain nutty. Decadent, rushed, beautiful, filthy, impeccable and surreal. The entire trip sent my head spinning - honestly. After jetting around to all kinds of sights and shops I would sit down for a minute and have difficulty focusing on objects and keeping the room still. (That's without a glass of wine people...)

At the end of the day it was lovely to have my dad torture my mother in a photo session with Ruby's new unicorn. She was so completely irritated by his antics. I love that shit.

After Many Days of Hard Work...

2007-11-25T20:43:00.001-05:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

Eloise has mastered the letter "S"! In her elated state she managed to accentuate her work with a fine portrait of me with earrings. (Don't you like my hair?) Watching the girls work out their different skills has been incredible - every moment at school has made them even more curious about their world and their abilities. Ruby has been able to hold a pen correctly since she was 22 months old, and Eloise has struggled to do the same thing. Instead she would put up a fight and throw down her marker if we suggested that she hold it differently... so I backed off with my "suggestions", and she now seems happy to write and draw with the right grip and everything.

What an accomplishment though - reading and writing letters! It's the beginning of my childrens' literacy... an enormous and beautiful time when kids open the door to a new kind of creativity and self-expression.

Ooooh! I absolutely love spelling!! So much to look forward too in this school-age business...

Happy 35th to Myles

2007-11-25T20:28:00.001-05:00

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Originally uploaded by mollieholliday

And a Happy Thanksgiving too... we had a great time in Brattleboro celebrating with turkey and my german chocolate cake. Before dinner Ruby and Eloise hiked up a small mountain for 3 hours with the rest of the gang while I stayed in the house with Penny and made icing. All in all it was a total success.

A ton of things have been going on over the last few weeks - many thoughts related to my 2 trips to Vermont and some serious time to think while on the road.

Is it a surprise to any of you that I just love to cook? If only there were more hours in the day to make perfect meals...