ALL HAIL EMILY RAPP

It was a typical spring night by most standards when I cozied up in bed with the March issue of Vogue magazine.  My thoughts:  Let me look at all the thin, perfect airbrushed people and the reems of advertising for clothes way outside my price range, yet somehow still enjoy it. Isn't that how all of us relax?  Oh, the conundrum.

No sooner had I read the Letter from the Editor and flipped through the first 30 pages of ads when my careless eyes engaged with- wait for it- something really, truly meaningful.  I mean DEEP, people.   Two paragraphs later, the emotional shit hit  the fan and I found myself sobbing.  Seriously, I've been reading Vogue on and off since I was 18, and never (all personal insecurity over waif models aside) has this magazine brought me to tears.

Enter Emily Rapp, an amazing writer with a connection to Austin and a recently deceased son who suffered from the neuro-degenerative disease Tay Sachs.  The excerpt from her memoir The Still Point of the Turning World still has me thinking months later.  I am both hopelessly drawn to this book and Emily's stark, brutal, and jaw-droppingly gorgeous prose, and totally afraid to fall down that rabbit hole.  Of course, deep down I know my respect for this woman's experience and her courage and fortitude to write about it will win out, so I'm putting it on my list for this fall (more on said-list soon) and hope you will too. 

Emily Rapp and her gorgeous son Ronan

Our experiences over the past three years with our daughter have brought us in contact with the most wonderful, most real, and most incredible of people and families.  Childhood illness is a reality, and though few people have the courage to face it, those who walk that path truly live in the holiest and most grace-filled of places, even in the midst of pain most can not and should not have to bear.  I loved this take on the book and all that it entails from Katie Roiphe in Slate.  It seemed very appropriate and spot on in terms of how isolating grief can be in general, and I've seen this again and again with those closest to me who have grieved the loss of children and siblings this past year:

PREGNANCY OVERLOAD

For some reason last week I got this sudden rush of total pregnancy overload.  Like-  it's f***ing 105 degrees outside and I don't want to do anything.  And chasing my toddler around and putting car seats in and out of cars with my 7 month belly is turning me into a real bitch.  And there's so much to do to try and downsize and re-organize before this baby comes, and I'm never happy with how our house looks in the transition.   And then we had a water leak, which took four days to fix so we only had water intermittently.  And then I got a zit.  Then, while trying to thin out and stay cool and be productive in spite of all this, I ran across some old photos from the time of our daughter's birth and I was like-

 

Awwwwwwwwww.  Tiny babies are the best.

 

Seriously, this is your brain on pregnancy hormones.  What the hell?

 

At any rate, while sorting through those photos I found this one, taken by one of my amazing photographer friends on film while I was laboring at home with our first before heading to the hospital.  

It was so surreal at the time, and I love this photo because it really captures that. You can hardly see my face, just my big old fuzzy belly and the baby inside that was steering the ship by that point and about to change my life forever. Becoming a mom really is so awesome, but such a gamechanger. I feel like this photo foreshadows in a real way the brutal reality that becoming a mother truly is an act of submission. An awesome one, and so worth it, and empowering as well, but there is a part of you that truly does recede in the shadows as life, contraction by contraction, takes over.

Another thing I find hilarious about this photo is if you look really hard, you can see in the lower right hand corner the top of my "Pregnancy for Dummies" book.   That is so how I roll-  "Oh crap!  I think I'm in labor.  Somebody look in the Pregnancy for Dummies book and explain to me how this is supposed to work out." 

Three years and seven months of new gestation later, I'm still waiting for a freaking answer. 

NUMBER TWO

I'm preggers with our second child (a boy, due in September) so I've been thinking a lot about how to handle the increased level of domestic and personal chaos that is sure to ensue post-delivery. In the meantime, I'm trying to stay calm by appreciating the humor in small things, like the above gift from my hubs after learning I was pregnant.  I was like, "Gee, thanks honey.  Now I can carry around this see-through torso with a plastic fetus inside everywhere I go."  Do I need to be reminded of exactly what is happening here?  And don't some women get jewelry?

The stranger thing might be that I actually sort of like it.  Perhaps it's a sign that marriage changes you, or perhaps time and experience really grow people together, but I'm not sure which is more scary:  This weird pregnant torso key chain or the fact that I find it totally and completely entertaining. 

Anyway, I'm trying to laugh my way through the next few months as I prepare our 800 square foot house for it's next resident, and here are a few things that have helped of late.

This video from Funny or Die:  A close friend shared it over the weekend and I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants (though that's not saying much considering the state of my pregnant pelvic floor). Michael Shannon does a hilarious dramatic rendition of the crazy sorority girl letter that went viral a few months back.  The profanity is totally excessive, though somehow brilliantly so, but do consider yourself warned:

 

http://FunnyOrDie.com/m/7yru

 

And for those who, like me, already see forty in the ballpark.  Amy Wruble shares some pretty funny thoughts on just how f----ed up forty can be...

40 Effed Up Things about Being 40

MAD POPE CRUSH

I came across this article in The Huffington Post soon after Easter and have wanted to share it ever since.  It was written by the father of Dominic Gondreau, who is the boy in the photo to the right.  Dominic has cerebral palsy, and when the Pope saw him in the crowd as he made his way to deliver his Easter address, he immediately stopped to give Dominic an incredibly tender and heartfelt embrace.  I watched the video at my office and immediately started crying, then sent it to my closest colleagues, who also shed a tear or two.  It was a pretty hilarious way to start a random Tuesday in April, but the lesson I took from observing the power of this image and the wise words of Dominic's father about the encounter have lasted me all month.    It inspired me on so many levels:  as a parent, as a human, and definitely as someone who thinks a lot about faith but often struggles with the role of the modern church. 

To be honest, I've never really given much thought or care to the role of the Pope, but I am so damn inspired and excited by Pope Francis that it's kind of weird.  I actually am starting to "get" what all the fuss is about, and why people would trek thousands of miles to see this man.  Here's a clip of his encounter with Dominic Gondreau, as well as a brief interview with his family. The Pope's interaction comes across so honest and pure in this way that someone can't fake or politician their way through.  Seriously, I love this man:

The teachable moment for me came in the father's reflection about his own growth and ability to learn about the absolute nature of love through his experience of parenting Dominic, and how Pope Francis' small gesture of a hug could serve as a reminder to all of us that spiritual wisdom truly "confounds the wisdom of the world."  This felt very applicable to my parenting life, and I know all parents, regardless of whether their children have special needs, often feel like their well has run dry and the work and sacrifice required of them is beyond what feels humanly possible.  If you don't have time to read the entire article, here's an excerpt: 

BELATED APRIL FOOLS

If you didn't get a good laugh in yesterday, I'll share the highlight of my day.  My husband (along with a billion other people I'm sure) came across this video yesterday and got me really psyched to watch it, reminding me that I'm one of five people left in the universe who still uses a Hotmail account and I should really think about upgrading.  It took probably longer than it should have, but eventually I was laughing out loud.  What do you think?  Is Gmail Blue in your future?

SOMETIMES IT'S THE LITTLE THINGS...

Like a new pair of cat pajamas.  Of course you can't actually see the cat in this picture because it's hidden behind my daughter's joyfully clasped hands, elated at the advent of short-legged onesie pajamas for spring. With stars.  And a cat.

GOOD BYE PISCES

Indicative of the last month, the original title for this post was "Welcome Pisces." Four short, busy weeks later, I'm finally able to finish the thought.  Pisces, according to Monica Berg, is considered to be the Month of Joy and also stabilizes or foreshadows the year ahead.  I've excerpted the following from her blog, which I love to read when I have a down moment: