Remembering....

Today is 9-11

I wrote that on my Facebook status and just kind of stared at it.
I heard and saw comments today about how people were already tired of the “remember” postings.  Mostly from younger people, some of whom may have been alive and some not even born yet. 

There was a time when I would have thought the same thing.  I remember when I was very young my parents watching the Watergate hearings on television.  I was too young to understand what was going on, and my only concern was “why can’t I watch cartoons?” 

The events of September 11^th were probably the first overwhelming event that I ever really connected with, for lack of better words.  I did not know anyone personally; all though the home offices of the company I worked for were located in New York and I had contact with several of them through the years. 

I was closing that evening.  Normally I would have slept in however the dogs had different ideas so I was up and moving at my normal time.  The television was on CNN as my husband had it on before he left for work.  I had never been a big news watcher, but for some reason when I came back from walking the dogs I did not change the channel.  Instead I fed the animals and sat down on the couch.  The first plane had just crashed into the first tower.

Like many others, I thought I was watching a video of somewhere else.   The sound was low so I wasn’t really hearing anything, but I didn’t change the channel.   It finally dawned on me that no- this was not some other country, not some movie.  I turned up the sound to hear details, and within seconds the second plane hit the second building. 

I remember going numb.  I remember calling my husband.  I remember calling the girls at work to check on them.  I remember staying glued to the television as much as I could as I got ready for work.  I remember getting the call saying that the mall was closing, and told the girls to just count the registers and go home – not to worry about anything else…just go home.  I remember the unusual silence when I walked the dogs as very few cars were on the highways.  I remember the oddly clear sky as no planes were flying.  I remember the stillness outside as everyone was inside watching the events unfold.  I remember trying to process the magnitude of what had happened.

There was a time when I was like so many others, wondering why everyone was so caught up in ‘remembering’ events that happened in the past.  I would get bored of listening to the speeches, watching the recaps, hearing all the ‘I remember….” comments.  I don’t know why events before 9-11 didn’t change that thought process in me, but I do know that afterwards I stopped questioning why people had to have those ceremonies, whether private or public. 

So to those who still wonder why everyone makes a big deal out of all the ‘remembrance’ postings/interview/speeches/ceremonies…I can only hope that you never have an experience that changes that thought.  And to those who have had that moment, I now understand.

·         American Airlines Flight 11: Left Boston's Logan Airport at 7:59 a.m. enroute to Los Angeles with a crew of 11 and 76 passengers, not including five hijackers. The hijackers flew the plane into the North Tower of the World Trade Center at 8:46 a.m.

·         United Airlines Flight 175: Left Logan Airport at 8:14 a.m. enroute to Los Angeles with a crew of nine and 51 passengers, not including five hijackers. The hijackers flew the plane into the South Tower of the World Trade Center at 9:03 a.m.

·         American Airlines Flight 77: Left Washington Dulles International Airport in Virginia at 8:20 a.m. enroute to Los Angeles with a crew of six and 53 passengers, not including five hijackers. The hijackers flew the plane into the Pentagon at 9:37 a.m.

·         United Airlines Flight 93: Left Newark International Airport at 8:42 a.m. enroute to San Francisco, with a crew of seven and 33 passengers, not including four hijackers. As passengers attempted to subdue the hijackers, the aircraft crashed into the ground near Shanksville, Pennsylvania, at 10:03 a.m.

How Does She Do It?

I never expected to be a parent this way.  Like most people, I figured I would find the right guy, we would settle down and eventually have a kid to warp.  I did it the ‘right’ way – found a nice guy, dated him, got engaged, then got married.  However when it came time for the kid, fate had other ideas.  After a while, you get to the point where you decide – well, no kids for us – let’s have pets instead.

Then comes along a friend who whispers in your ear, “Have you ever thought of fostering/adopting?”  And stupidly you think, “Hell, why not?”  Next thing you know you get a call one morning, and then you find yourself staring at a tiny person a few hours later.

Your first reaction is ‘OMG!  There is a BABY in my house!” followed quickly by “OMG!  There is a BABY in my  house! HOLY SHIT!”

Eventually you come to grips with the tiny person who has invaded your life.  Just when you think you got the hang of it, you get another call and WHAMO – there is ANOTHER baby in your house.

With those calls came the inevitable “How do you do it?” comments.  Well, truth be told, I have no fucking idea.  I would love to tell you “I am super mommy/wife/woman who can handle any shit you throw at me without batting an eyelash, running a stocking, or breaking a nail.  I am Betty-Freakin’-Crocker and Martha-Effing’-Stewart on acid so bring it on!”  But guess what?  I am not and never will be anything even remotely close to the wife/mommy/woman of perfection we were told about in fairy tales of long ago.

I am not the parent I thought I would be.  I scream, yell, cry, have tantrums that rival my two year olds, walk around wondering if I am fully dressed, and if so how much of what I am seeing is powdered donut, snot or god knows what else?  My floors are not spotless, the only dusting that happens on a regular basis is when the three year old gets hold of a wipe and proceeds to take a swipe at the cat, and my lock picking skills are at an all-time high.  Don’t open my cabinets unless you relish seeing my attempts at baby-proofing – which roughly translates into “I emptied out the silverware drawer and shoved in the hall closet so the kid wouldn’t decide to take up juggling sharp knives for fun so be careful when you open the door”.  I don’t know what non-sticky furniture is anymore and just be grateful that the smudges on the window are from snotty noses and sticky fingers rather than someone mooning the neighbors with a shit-covered butt that was recently freed from her diaper unbeknownst to mommy and daddy.

My idea of “me” time consists of me literally sneaking off to the bathroom so I can pee in peace while hoping at the same time that the kids are not duct taping the dog to the couch with that roll they cleverly found while practicing their trapeze act from the ceiling fan.  Eating out involves ketchup packets and happy meals – which by the way are a lie – there is no happiness in those little fuckers despite the advertising.  Current events for me include discussing potty training successes and failures with other poor helpless parents who find themselves in similar situations. 

And still I get the occasional “wow, you are amazing” and “I can’t imagine how you do it” comments.  I think they are meant as praise and encouragement.  I don’t know if I am ‘amazing’ but I can tell you that locking one’s self in the mini-van in the garage occasionally does contribute to what is left of one’s sanity.  That and secretly hiding that Ben & Jerry’s ice cream from every known person on the planet.  And let’s not forget the occasional stop where you manage to sneakily purchase that cheese cake and devoured it in one sitting.

I would like to say “It’s those tiny adoring smiling loving faces that make it all worth while”.  I would like to say “I do it for the children – they are what is truly important”.  But in truth, I think it is the Sara Lee coffee cake I ate between the grocery store and picking up the kids from day care that kept me going.  Yeah, I ate the whole thing in like, 15 minutes.  And no, I didn’t share.  And before you think of giving me grief about it, consider this little shred of wisdom that the hubby shared with the three year old:  “Leave mommy alone or she will pop your head off and drink your blood.” 

And that my friends, is how I do it….

Then and Now…

We bought our house about 7, maybe 8 years ago.  I come from a family of renters.  I personally moved every 4-6 years of my life.  My parents bought their first home when I started High School, so I was pretty familiar with renting and all that comes with it.  My poor husband never really moved until he married me, and then was thrust rather rudely into the world of pack-it-up and move-it-out.  After several years of marriage, several moves through various cities, towns, states, we finally reached a point where we could think of settling down and buying a house.

We lived in the area for almost 1 year exactly when we came to that decision.  I happened to be on vacation, and decided that was as good a time to start looking as any.  Being a realistic person, I figured it would take at least a year to find something we would even consider, let alone go through the process of buying.

It started out simple enough.  I looked at various listing in the local papers and online.  I also took note of several places with signs out front, crossing each place off the list for various reasons…too small, not enough yard, not the right location…all pretty normal.  I finally came across a house that was listed for sale.  The description, price, location and size were enough to convince us to take a look.  So, on that fateful day on my vacation, I made the call.

Turned out the house was not meant for us.  Built in the 20’s, it still had knob and tube electric, complete with the cloth covered wires and Christmas Story fuse box.  There were other issues but basically it was a no-go.  However, our Realtor, a lovely lady, had caught that whiff of “If you find it they will buy”.  Taking note of our wishes and our willingness to do some work, she was hot on the trail – looking for that ‘perfect’ place.   As it happened, she had about 3 other listings that peaked our interest.  We arranged to get together to see them.  As luck would have it, I managed to get hold of my father, and he agreed to come up to take a look with us – to give us some insight on issues that we might not see.  (Dad has done some construction work on houses we lived in as well as a part time job when he retired.)

Again, the first couple of houses were ok, but nothing to write home about.  Finally, the Realtor suggested a house that came on the market that morning…it was further north than we were looking, but it had land – something we wanted.

They say when you find the house you are meant to buy you know it.  It is true.  The minute we walked in the house, all I could utter was “oh my  god” over and over again.  From the minute we walked in the house I knew exactly what furniture would go where, what curtains to hang, what color to paint…it was all there.  Needless to say we bought the house and were moved in within two months of my initial “lets look at houses” moment.

Is it the house I had imagined I would be living?  Nope.  Not even close.  Is it the house I dreamed of?  Again, nope.  But I love this house.  Every perfection, every fault, every inch, I love. Slowly we are making the changes that make it the house of my dreams, but if we changed nothing  at all I would still love this house.

While we were in the process of buying, I came out to the house while it was being inspected.  I took several pictures so that I could let my mother and my in-laws see the house.  I came across those pictures the other day.  This evening, after the kids were asleep, I wandered around the yard, taking new pictures of the outside and find myself comparing them to the originals.  I find it amazing how much things have changed in what I think of as such a short time.  Equally amazing is how much has not changed. 

We moved into this house with 3 cats and two dogs.  Today, only one of the original cats is still with us.  We still have 2 cats and two dogs – as they replaced themselves as animals will do.  We have added two small children into the mix as well.    Had you told me years ago that I would be living in this area, in this house and with two children, I would have laughed in your face.

But now I could not begin to imagine being anywhere else…

And in case you are wondering, I still love this house…