Got chocolate?

[caption id="attachment_4523" align="alignright" width="225" caption="Chocolate? What chocolate?"][/caption]

Friday morning, I handed Lotta a pain au chocolate (think chocolate croissant here without the crescent shape and with hard chocolate bars rather than the more soft, pudding-y chocolate).  I was fully anticipating "helping" Lotta with her yummy treat once she had finished (what Esther refers to as bottom feeding, but food as delicious as this could not be considered anywhere near the bottom!)  I looked up from my (boring) granola to witness Lotta pulling out the chocolate and immediately consuming it.  I suppose it makes sense since the milk she consumes from me has probably tasted like chocolate milk for at least the last 6 months (have I mentioned the dark chocolate peanut butter cups from Trader Joe's recently?)

Surprises...

Some of the numerous things that have surprised me over this past year...

1.  Ben wants more.  I mean that's not that surprising is it?  Until you hear what he wants more of...It was Ben who mentioned on January 25th that he felt we had NOT done enough to honor Ellie during the 13 days.  Which is ironic because the whole time I was concerned that Ben would feel jealous if we made too too much of a fuss.  Guess I erred on the opposite end of that continuum.  We talked about what we could do the next day, Ellie's birthday, to honor her.  I explained how Ellie had this joke when anyone would say, "Have a nice day!"  She would respond by saying, "It's too late."  Pause Pause.  "I already am."  So when Ben boarded the bus on Ellie's birthday, Thom automatically said, "Have a nice day."  Ben yelled back, "It's too late!"

2.  Feeling Oscar-ish.  Grief often presents itself as grumpiness ("Oscar-ish" Ellie would have said, after the grumpiest of them all, Oscar the Grouch).  It's not necessarily the falling down on the bed sobbing kind of thing you would anticipate and see in movies, but rather a lashing out at whomever happens to be nearby.

 

Happy with her books.

3.  Quiet voices.  The soft spoken, whispery messages have been another surprise to me.  At times, I will think a thought and have the distinct feeling that this thought is one from Ellie (an elliought or a thellie?).  Again not dramatic like I would have predicted.  It doesn't occur as a big bolt of lightening, followed by the crash of thunder, but instead it is quiet, I have to stop to be able to hear.

Recently, I was pondering how now there are activities we do as a family that we would not be doing if Ellie were alive.  It feels wange.  Almost as if I traded Ellie in for this new found freedom, a trade I would never willingly agree to.  Suddenly the thought came that we were BOTH holding each other back--that Ellie was ready to go and that it was time for our family to do some of those other activities.

Around Christmas time, I was lying in bed with Lotta, missing Ellie.  When suddenly I had another Ellie thought, "But I waited till Lotta was born to leave."  That was one of the many great gifts from Ellie, to wait until we had a Lotta Joy in our lives for her to make her exit.  The gift from Ben has been how much he adores this little package.

4.  The continual loop of grief to laughter and back again....This week, Lotta and I traversed to Willy Street Co-op. I was feeling tired and grumpy and out of sorts.   For some reason, grocery stores seem to elicit this response from me.  The check out area is really close to where Ellie and I used to sit and watch the clouds on our dates while we had a snack.  I felt myself near to tears, imagined myself just having a good wail right there in the

[caption id="attachment_4517" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Another favorite--bubble wrap!"][/caption]

check-out lane, but instead held it together. Then as we walked to our car, I saw the firestation next door and suddenly thought of telling Lotta, "We used to have them (meaning the firefighters) over all the time." (Remember when we had to keep calling 911 to come pick Ellie up when we couldn't get her to wake up?)  This thought seemed so incredibly absurd to me, made me laugh in spite of myself.

5.  We're rich!!!  It can seem so utterly surprising at times that life keeps happening, regardless.  My blog is such an example of this--one blog about my grief, another blog about the silly things Ben and Lotta are up to, another about an Ellie memory.  It is all happening NOW, all the ups and downs and in betweens.  Even boredom, which doesn't even seem like it should be ALLOWED when you realize that death is a reality for all of us (is this not a big part of grief becoming friends with THIS inevitability?).  The laughter and joys are that much richer now because the contrast of the despair is there.  I feel myself at times, slowly, reaching for the otherside of this grief.  Thank you, Ellie.

 

 

Closing

[caption id="attachment_4391" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Lotta wears "bob" on her head."][/caption]

Ellie had a fixation with drawers and cabinets(just like my Aunt Linda.  I say this because when we sent out an engagement photo there was a cabinet door open in the background which we failed to notice.  If only Aunt Linda had taken the photo, the door definately would have been closed.)    Ellie absolutely positively could not stand if a drawer or cabinet was left open, not even for a minute.  If I went to retrieve a washcloth for her while she was in the bath tub, turning around to hand it to her, she would beg me to close the opened drawer.  Even if a dresser drawer was only opened slightly, Ellie would come into the bedroom, making sure every single drawer was closed completely.  She felt more comfortable, more peaceful if she had accomplished this task.

Mrs. Zwart utilized this talent brilliantly at school.  Ellie's job every day was to walk down the hall closing locker doors.  Mrs. Zwart said she actually had to put a limit to it, otherwise Ellie would've chosen to spend the entire school day closing lockers.  When Ellie was finished with the task, Mrs. Zwart would say, "What would we do without you?"  Ellie would respond  with a shrug, "I don't know," as if to say, "Man this place would be a MESS without me."

Lotta apparently has the same gene.  Even at 17 months old, she quickly closes all open drawers and cabinets.  If I have neglectfully left a drawer or cabinet door open, Lotta will wander around the house busily closing anything ajar. That is unless she is trying to release the contents in the cabinet or drawer.

One day, we heard Lotta scream from where the bathroom where she had been playing.  When Thom raced into the bathroom, the stepstool Lotta had been standing on had slipped and she was hanging off of an open drawer.  Maybe she learned the dangers that day of opened drawers and now works to keep them at bay.

 

Making Fun

[caption id="attachment_4394" align="alignright" width="225" caption="Walking home from the bus."][/caption]

Ben is so great at making fun for himself.  This school year, unfortunately, he has experienced other kids making fun of him.  Ironically, it was Ellie whom I was always afraid that this would happen.  So afraid in fact that I didn't even want to put her in the school system.  Instead, she was embraced as a class mascot, taken care of and loved.   Ellie might not even have noticed if someone was making fun of her, it just wasn't in her realm of possibility for people to want to hurt one another.

One day this fall, Ben descended the bus stairs and told me how one of his bus mates made fun of him for crying.  During the walk home, we discussed what had happened.  Last year when Ellie was home bound, the bus changed its route so that Ben could be dropped off in front of our house.  I think the change happened very suddenly and I did not explain to Ben what was going to happen before it occurred.  Ben panicked when he did not get off the bus (he gets that from

[caption id="attachment_4396" align="alignright" width="225" caption="Took this photo to see if Lotta was happy being strapped to my back (usually she is strapped to the front)."][/caption]

my side of the family) and began to cry.  Apparently a second grader  (he is in first grade) told him he always cried and needed his mommy.  As Ben was describing this, we began brainstorming what he could say to such an accusation.  We discussed how teasing can only happen if you THINK you are being teased.  "So?  Everybody cries."  Was one  response we practiced.

Ben seemed to feel somewhat resolved after our conversation.  I, on the other hand, fretted about it for the rest of the day.  I felt upset that Ben had been teased about that time in our family, a time when it felt like we were particularly raw and vulnerable.  I couldn't let it go.  I imagined myself boarding that hot (it always seems to be HOT on the bus doesn't it?) throwing my hands up and yelling, "LISTEN UP KIDS!!  CAN YOU PLEASE GIVE BEN

[caption id="attachment_4491" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="The lost teeth and the glasses make me extra protective..."][/caption]

A BREAK??  WE'VE HAD A CHALLENGING YEAR FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!"

The next day when I retrieved Ben from the bus, I walked up the steps and spoke with the bus driver.  I explained that Ben told me he had been made fun of.  The bus driver shook his head sadly and told me he would be on the look out.

As I came down the bus steps, Ben questioned why I had gotten on the bus, something I had never done before.  I answered that I had mentioned the girl making fun of him.  Ben said, "Oh that happened last year."  Oops.  "But, it's good because it will probably happen again," Ben supposed.

Which led to a conversation about, maybe, the most disturbing part of the teasing.  He said that his 2 favorite bus buddies laughed when the 2nd grader teased him.  I recalled the time with Ben when he laughed when I was crying about Ellie.  I told him I absolutely knew he was not laughing because he thought that was funny but instead because he felt uncomfortable.  I was sure that the girls' on the bus reaction was the same.  It truly felt as if Ben had closure on this event that he had obviously been thinking about since the previous year.

But wait, the saga continues, about a week ago, Ben was punched by another kid on the bus.  Now, I feel like I am equipped to handle discussions of what to say or what to do when teased, but when someone just punches you in the mouth for saying "Hi", I feel ill equipped to provide any kind of guidance.  Maybe this is normal little kid behavior.  Nevertheless, I feel strongly that if Ben is getting punched on the bus then I am not fully doing my job. Plus, he has a bunch of teeth missing and new glasses which just somehow makes him look more vulnerable.  I feel sort of like Ellie in these matters, shocked that anyone would even THINK to do such a thing, much less carry it out.  I keep imaging how shocking it must have been, even to Ben who loves predators.

[caption id="attachment_4498" align="alignright" width="225" caption="Do NOT mess with this lion!!"][/caption]

Once again, I had visions of stepping on that bus and giving those kids a piece of my mind.  Instead, I contacted his teacher who in turn contacted the principal.

When Ben stepped off the bus yesterday, he told me the principal boarded the bus and spoke with the boy who punched him to insure that the boy knew this behavior would not be tolerated.  Ben felt shocked to discover that the principal knew the name of every single kid on his bus.  When I suggested that he could tell the bus attendant if anything happens again, Ben thought it would probably be more effective just to go straight to the principal.  Now he's got a friend at the top who can get things done (reminds me of when I learned who to ask for what at the hospital).

Throughout this whole incident, it has felt like the adults in Ben's life have risen up to provide him the support he needs to feel safe on the bus.  Yes, we all wish it hadn't happened in the first place, but how great for Ben to feel so heard and supported by the adults surrounding him.  All of these bus incidents reminded me of what a ferocious momma bear I can become if I feel my bear cubs are being threatened.  It doesn't happen often, but wow is it ever powerful when it does.  GRRRR.

 

 

The Land of Uneven Surfaces

[caption id="attachment_4485" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Ben and Lotta in Betsy Cs kitchen."][/caption]

In order to begin our 13 days of Ellie, we took a trip to Chicago.  We spent the night with Betsy C on Saturday night.  She created a beautiful and yummilicous meal for us out of yellow, orange and red foods (notice some of Ellie's favorite colors) around her house were roses of pink, orange, and yellow.  She even ordered crab rangoon for Ben, his own separate order, knowing that Ben is not at all keen on sharing food.  We felt completely honored by all of these gestures.

Sunday Ben woke up early and watched hours upon hours of Sponge Bob Square Pants with Betsy C. (his favorite part of the trip since his

[caption id="attachment_4486" align="alignleft" width="225" caption="Another fabulous service provded by the Betsy C. Hotel is hairstyling."][/caption]

television viewing is usually limited AND we don't get Sponge Bob.)  Then we stayed at a swanky hotel downtown on Sunday night (yeah groupon!!!)  To honor Ellie, the hotel was a suite.  Staying in a suite was the only way to go with Ellie because she was up and down all night, in one room ALL of us were up and down all night.  We ventured to the art museum, where Ben looked for dragons and enjoyed viewing the miniatures display, while Lotta discovered some wavy pillows and a great ramp (remember how she adores walking and stepping on uneven surfaces, even going so far as to wear only one boot in order to create an instant uneven surface).  We rode two trains (an elevated and an underground) to get back to our hotel, which was highly highly exciting for Ben (and Thom surprisingly).  For dinner Betsy joined us for some of the best sushi ever.  Once our stomachs were nice and full, Thom and Ben went for a swim (recall the rule according to Kramer:  never swim on an empty stomach?) where Lotta re-discovered her love of puddles.  Once again, Lotta is most definitely a landlubber, but has discovered that jumping in puddles

[caption id="attachment_4487" align="alignright" width="225" caption="Ben on firefighter pole at the Chicago Children's Musuem."][/caption]

or creating puddles by dumping out water is pretty cool.

On Monday (Martin Luther King, Jr day so there was no school), Ben woke up early and watched more cable television.  Ben and I ventured to Corner Bakery (which was on the corner, I wonder if they are always on the corner?)  where we purchased breakfasts laden with bacon.  Bacon is Ben's newest food discovery.  He is a bacon connoisseur.  It seemed that every item on the Corner Bakery menu is accompanied with bacon.  After perusing the menu, I imagined the cashier inquiring, "How many slices of bacon would you like with that coffee mam?"

After our bacon, we checked out of the hotel and walked to the Children's Museum.  It is the BEST children's museum we have experienced with our nation-wide children's museum pass.  Immediately we discovered a room filled with tires, tunnels, and wavy mattes.  With all those uneven surfaces to walk, climb and fall across, I was unsure if Lotta would see any other parts of the museum.  But wait, there's more!  There was a firefighting area, complete with a fire pole and fire truck you could pretend to drive and even slide down.  A big back yard with butterflies and flowers.  A water play area (where you will not be at all surprised to learn Lotta became extremely wet playing in the, you guessed it, puddles).  An inventor's station.  A snowman dressing area.  A little town.  A dinosaur dig.  There was even an art studio we didn't even have a chance to discover because my hunger took over.

Lotta got to experience the food she continually talks about,  popcorn in the form of Garrett's, apprently THE place to purchase popcorn n Chicago.  Ben got to have another one of his recent food discoveries, hot dogs.

Then we rode a bus (this is again highly exciting stuff for a 6-year-old) back to get our car which was still parked in the parking

[caption id="attachment_4489" align="alignright" width="225" caption="Get on the bus Gus (or Lotta, Ben, and Thom)."][/caption]

garage.  As we boarded the bus, I inquired of the bus driver if the price was the same as the train.  She told me no and then quoted the same price we had paid for our train rides.  I didn't argue because it is my policy not to anger or frustrate, if at all possible, bus drivers and librarians.

To top off the whole trip, Lotta slept almost the entire ride home.  When we returned home, it was one of those moments where I felt so glappy we had gone on our adventure AND at the same time so glappy to be home.  Now, as Lotta sleeps, I sit warm and cozy sipping drinking chocolate (yes, from Trader Joe's) while outside it is SNOWING.  Cozy.

Hidden

[caption id="attachment_4482" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Lotta hiding underneath our desk."][/caption]

It all started during holiday break.  The first week of break we were BORED.  Yes, in all caps BORED, the worst kind.   We decided to venture to Target (you KNOW how I feel about Target, right?)  Ben has recently become interested in his appearance (Did I mention how he only wants to wear collared shirts, because this is what he has observed real mean wearing, specifically his Dad.)  Thus, while we were at Target, we decided to peruse the boy's clothes.  At this point in our adventure, Lotta had tired of the shopping cart and desperately wanted to explore.  (She needed to once again help them rearrange the store to her specifications.  I am shocked every time Target allows us to come back in the store.  I mean they have video cameras recording all of our visits, they know the destruction she has caused.)   I released Lotta as Ben and I continued to discuss sweaters.  I looked up and Lotta was no where to be seen.  Panicked, I shouted, "Lotta!"  and walked purposefully around our section.  I wondered what happens when you lose your baby in Target?

[caption id="attachment_4479" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Ben in a collared shirt, with a dragon tie Santa accidentally gave to his Dad. Notice how Lotta is using the stacking toys as bracelets? Fancy."][/caption]

I mean Lotta can't tell the manager, "My mother's name is Debi Kennedy, could you call for her over the loud speaker? Thanks ever so."  (She sounds British for some reason doesn't she?)  As more minutes passed, I became more flummoxed and widened my search circle.  Ben was helping, he eventually found Lotta standing, without making a sound under a pants rack.  We were pretty impressed with her hiding skills.

It soon became her routine when I would say, "Lotta let's go bye-bye."  She would race to our closet and hide under my clothes.  Last week, we rehearsed this regularly scheduled performance.  I looked below the clothes.  No Lotta.  Wange (weirdly strange).  I checked the shower stall (the only time Lotta will

[caption id="attachment_4474" align="alignleft" width="225" caption="Lotta all set to go in her new outfit from her aunt."][/caption]

purposefully emerse herself into water is for puddle splashing).  No Lotta.  I was perplexed.  I thought if I went downstairs she would, most likely, emerge from her hiding spot. Or at the very least call out to me.   As I started down the stairs, I spotted a tiny eye peeking out from behind the bedroom door.  Seriously, she was not making one sound.  If there is a baby hiding contest, I am quite certain Lotta would win, I'm not just bragging here.   I am giving my non-biased opinion as her mother.

Finally, I just have to say that I totally and completely felt big love on Friday from all the phone calls, text messages and e-mails!  (Thanks to Linda for explaining that less than 3 is actually the symbol for an emoticon heart.  How clever she is.)  I am in appreciation for all of your powerful words and wishes.  Thank you for helping me not just survive the year anniversary of Ellie's death, but truly feel uplifted (this is where Josh Groban would start singing, "You Raise Me Up" on my life's movie soundtrack.  Imagine that now.  Or better yet play it.)

No Heck Baby Fire Idea

[caption id="attachment_4464" align="alignright" width="300" caption="When Ellie would sit in this chair (I thought of it as "The Queens Chair") she would request to be scootched up precisely to the edge of the table."][/caption]

Monday I was fortunate enough to get to hang out with Ellie's third grade teacher, Mrs. Zwart.  We reminisced about Ellie for probably half an hour.  Mrs. Zwart shared how they had been working on teaching Ellie some life skills--eating with utensils, taking turns talking, using a napkin.  Ellie commented that the one thing she had not yet learned how to do was to push herself up in the chair.  Mrs. Zwart being the superb teacher she is, asked Ellie what she thought she could do about that.  (Mrs. Zwart always had this way of getting Ellie to answer for herself so that she was more committed to the solution).  Ellie looked at Mrs. Zwart, shrugged her shoulders and said, "Heck if I know." (A phrase Ellie used

[caption id="attachment_4465" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Ellie with a cow from Uncle Kirky."][/caption]

for awhile, was "I have no heck baby fire idea".  I have no heck baby fire idea where she came up with it.)

As I was re-telling this story to Betsy C., it occurred to me that this is the attitude I need right now.  Friday, the day Ellie passed, is quickly on its way.  I do not know how I will handle it.  I do not want to handle it.  It feels sort of like before giving birth when I felt as if there was NO WAY I was going to be able to do THAT.  Not gonna happen.   I couldn't imagine it.  As the day grew nearer and did in fact approach, I somehow found the answers, courage, solutions, assistance I needed.  Even if right now I don't know how the heck I will, I don't need to know right now, when the time is right, I will.