Letter to Anna

Hi Dude,

It has been a year since you left our earth - it seems like yesterday and it seems like a long time. I miss you so much. I wish I believed in heaven so that I would believe we would meet again. B/c even though we are sinners both, I am sure if there were a heaven we would get to meet there again. And how fun would that be? We could smoke pot and drink bloody mary's w/o ever getting hung over and while someone else babysat the kids nearby. And we could lie in the most comfortable bed in the universe and chat and chat and chat and snuggle our babies. Just like we used to. But no heaven belief here, and you had none either, so unless we were both utterly wrong, which is impossible, we shall not meet again. I think of you so often and it pains my heart to not be able to share all that is going on w/my kids and in my life with you and to hear the same from you. The loss is so profound. But that just speaks to what a great friend you were. Even though you're gone and I miss you terribly, I have endless memories, and I have a part of you in me, forever. You were so strong, so comfortable about who you were and unapologetic about even your craziest ideas. I learned and grew a lot from being around you and following your example and through the love and support you gave me during times good and bad. You were there for the most important moments in my life, and I was there for many of yours. I wish I had been there more when you were sick. But I don't have many regrets about our friendship, except that it was cut way too short.

Why am I posting this on overpopulator? B/c I wish you were here to hear the stories I post. I miss your laugh a lot. And b/c you really understood being baby crazy, and crazy for babies and crazy in love with your kids and crazy with craziness b/c of your kids. You would not think I was crazy to want another baby. You wanted another, and maybe another after that. It was not to be. I remember how heartbroken you were when you first diagnosed w/cancer, when none of us had any idea it would take your life, and they told you that you probably should not have any more kids b/c of the estrogen. I feel so lucky to be here on this earth w/my amazing kids and yours are doing very well in spite of it all and I will always be part of their lives, I hope. Chiq and the kids are coming down to go to Oak Island w/us, like we'd done as families together for the last few summers. I know it would make you happy to know this tradition is continuing. I can't wait to see them all and to be there, but I also can't believe you won't be there too. It is going to be so hard. But we will have fun, just like you would have, and we will think of you and send all of our love for you out into the universe and hope that even if you can't feel it, that somehow it will make us all feel better, b/c you would want that too.

Love love

H

Six

S-phie is six today. Six. A rising first-grader. I feel like every year I could write the post I wrote on her b-day last year - it's such a special day. But I can't just write every year about how amazing it was when she was born. But I've been meaning to write about her lately, b/c she's so cute and smart and funny, so maybe I'll just tell a couple of stories about her, my rocker/et girl.

Recently she informed me, w/great certainty, "Mama, I know what I want to be when I grow up. A rock star and a rocket scientist!" Like many six year olds, the girl definitely has the makings of a rock star. She makes up a lot of songs and often sings them in this really overwrought vibrato (think Celine Dion), but she also has a punk side. When she was three, we had a full rock band set-up in our bedroom so we could practice with our then band, the Last Nerves. S-phie loved to play the drums and knew how to turn on the mic. One day she went in there by herself and was playing the high-hat and singing into the mic, "Chicken on the bone! Chicken on the bone!" I don't remrember the verses, just this chorus. Perhpas a vegetarian anthem of sorts, as she doesn't eat meat (excpet bacon), and has certianly never eaten any chicken on (or off) the bone. More recently, she was playing w/her Barbies and they were singing, "Dirty houseware, I don't care!!!!!" I was thinking this could be my new anthem - hell yes! Her favorite band (aside from the Last Nerves) is the Runaways ("ch ch ch ch ch cherry bomb!"). She also likes Shonen Knife a lot. We like it that she likes the Runaways, in theory, but we don't really like to listen to them that much (alas, I cannot convince her of the merits of the Velvet Underground, the Pixies, or the Beastie Boys - or even Outkast for that matter - although she does like the White Stripes). In any case, although we think it's cool that she's so into the Runaways, we have evilly not corrected her misperception that that which is on vinyl can also be on CD or tape - she said recently about the Runaways album, "I wish they had record players in cars so we could listen to the Runaways." We gave her a Joan Jett greatest hits CD today for her b-day, so hopefully that will satisfy her Runaways cravings.

She also has the makings of a scientist. I don't think she understands that when people talk about rocket science, they're not usually talking about rocket science, which makes her comment all the cuter. But she does love science. She loves learning about natural and life science (once she told me, "Mom, tell me more about the body.") She has an amazing science teacher at school and this year she has really loved science class -- the little lab reports they do, about momentum and the like, are amazing. About two months ago she told me that she wanted to have a "science birthday party," and that she wanted to invite her science teacher. I explained that her teacher would be on summer vacation, but her classroom teacher suggested that S-phie write a letter to the science teacher to ask for her ideas. S-phie spent an entire weekend composing a letter, written like a card, to her teacher, asking her what she would do for a science party. Her teacher wrote back, on a greeting card, a long and detailed letter w/her ideas for a science birthday party. Then S-phie wrote back to her, asking for more details on how to make oobleck. It was inspiring. And how excited was I that she asked for a science b-day party rather than My Little Pony or some other pink consumer-culture shit? Thrilled. Like when she loved Velma more than Daphne, but even more thrilled. Anyway, we had the party and it was fun: she gave nature tattoos, we made pretzels so the kids could see the yeast rise, we played does it sink or float (S-phie's idea) and played w/modelling clay, and we made Oobleck (which the adults liked better than the kids). She had a great time.

Not really a science or rockstar story, but so cute, and it is her bday, and it did happen in science class. Her science teacher told me that one day the kids were making fun of one of S-phie's classmates' drawing, saying it was scribble scrabble. So they were making fun of his picutre when S-phie exclaimed, arms up and out at the elbows, "Maybe it's an abstract!!!" He said, "yeah, it's an abstract." The teacher asked the kids if they knew what an abstract was, and they did not, and Sophie explained, "it's when you draw something like you see it but it doesn't have to look like how it really looks." Love. Love all around.

I recently got a flatbed scanner, so on this day, her sixth b-day, I do solemnly swear to scan and post (before her next birthday) some of the awesome things she has drawn and written over the last few months. Keep me honest folks.

Here are some pictures of the girl from a couple of months ago, clearly being a rockstar, trying to make a tough face, but then giving it up to be my baby w/her sweet belly:

The ugly truth of offsetting your offspring

When I was pg with twins, I think the most common comment I got was, "you're going to have to get a minivan," usually followed by a chuckle (not mine). It may have been the sheer oppositional defiant disorder in me that made me not do it - not get a minivan, or even a bigger car. It took a lot of doing, and a lot of different trial carseat combos, but I did it - I got three kids in the back of a Honda Civic for two years. Even rear-facing! I am very very very proud of this. No one seems to give this accomplishment the respect it deserves, so now I am proud to the point of having a chip on my shoulder, like I don't understand why I wasn't the subject of a local human interest story on the news or someone didn't give me a medal or something. Okay, so I crammed the little fuckers in there like sardines, hoped I wouldn't smash their fingers every time I shut the doors, bungey corded the trunk down every time we needed to take the double stroller plus anything else with us, and never ever thought about a collision with an Escalade. Getting the carseats in there was truly a grueling feat, so any time one of them had to be removed and subsequently reinstalled was a loathsome occassion indeed. Although I loved the Civic, the great MPG, the golf-cart engine, and the fact that I was proving to the world that big family doesn't have to mean big car, I must admit I was growing tired of what a PITA it was on a daily basis getting them in and out of there, especically having to unbuckle S-phie, who had to ride in an actual carseat to get the 3 across, but is too spastic to get herself out of a carseat (no Houdini). Cut to the chase: - no wait, first a moment of silence, for the Civic . . . Yes, I traded in my beloved little Civic for a bigass Odyssey. It's such a blow, on so many levels.

One: it's just not environmentally friendly - it's a gas hog. Now, granted, when I've got it packed to its maximum capacity of 7, then it's a good deal - mini mass transit, if you will (the first time H-nry rode in it, he repeated over and over, for the twenty minute ride, "Bus . . . bus. . . bus. . . bus. . . bus. . . "). In the past few months, I have been doing some sort of unconcious offset nesting. I really had written off getting a bigger car, it was not on my concscious mind, but I started going green like crazy: flourescent bulbs, turned up the thermostat, stopped washing in hot water, started saving grey water, started harvesting rainwater, started nagging J-sh to compost again, started buying soap and shampoo that don't have petro, and only changed the kids' disposable diapers when they were actually leaking or sagging to the floor. When we got the van, J-sh was like, is all of this green shit about the car? I don't know if it is, but probably, you know, trying to offset the crappy gas mileage. Which, I might add, is a totatlly legit concept in environmental law - offsetting. But the sad thing about getting the Minivan is that I realized that I really do need a bigger car, and the reason I need a bigger car is b/c I have so many kids, and that there is nothing worse for the environment than having kids. But, afterall, I am foremost an overpopulator and only somewhat of an environmentalist, so I did not kill the children or even stop wanting to have more of them upon this realization. And aside from being an overpopulator foremost, I was always a socialist before an environmentalist, and this country needs more lefties - we're being outbred by the right at an alarming rate (even USA Today knows it) and so what does it matter if the earth is green if it's ruled by a bunch of kids who went to Jesus Camp? But, alas, I will try to offset their environmental impact - call it the Overpopulator's Dilemma. I promise if I have another baby I will use cloth diapers and wash them in cold water w/a non-phospate, no petroleum soap.

Okay, the second thing about the minivan, the pain of it is, I am so embarrassed to admit, but it's the image thing. If I weren't utterly pathetic I wouldn't give a shit, but the cultural icon of the soccer mom is a strong one. Luckily, when I drove the "bus" off the lot, I had Elephant with me, and blasted it, and it made me feel a little better, but I am going to have to do more to offset the image. To demythologize the minvan mom. Here are some ideas I've had for the offset

1. Get a personalized plate: PSSYPTRL (I'm not even sure what Pussy Patrol is, but I know that when my friend worked at Walmart and she made a sticker w/the label maker that said this and wore it under a little flap on her nametag that had her real name, it really made her feel better). Maybe I'll even start a gang w/other minivan moms: The Pussy Patrol.

2. Drive around smoking a joint. Maybe even hotbox w/some members of the Pussy Patrol.

3. Play some mailbox baseball w/fellow gang members after engaging in number 2.

3. Have hot sex on the reclined 60/40 with another minvan driving mom. Perhaps as an initation to my gang.

4. Install a giant "system," and drive around blasting NWA's "Fuck the Police."

I can think of other offset ideas, all equally stupid, but I'm so exicted now about the idea of the Pussy Patrol and the gang of like-minded moms who will also shed the chains of the minivan mom image and engage in vicious culture wars with minivan moms sporting the sign of the fish and those little people that represent their families. OMG, I love my minivan.