BATMOM

Body Back

I'm in my hospital bed at UCSF and feeling happy. It worked. The reversal is done and the port is OUT, I feel so much lighter. I know the next few weeks will be challenging but I feel that I finally have my body back.

I wore my Obama hope Inaugural parka to the hospital (that thing is HOT), love socks, mommy shoes, crystals from Deanna and the comfy bra. I was also armed with my photos. Here's one:

Fart Etiquette

I've never been one for fart jokes. Really, it's not my thing. 

Last night as George was telling me about the king cape he would wear to school (apparently the purple cape with leopard lining does not drag on the floor at an adequate length, but we are hoping the red one will... according to George, a king must have a cape that drags long and well), he farted.

He continued telling me about other things that kings need and do without acknowledging said fart. 

"What kings probably don't do," I said with a smile, "is fart in public."

George stopped talking (!) and smiled.

"Kings fart."

"Yes, but maybe not in public amongst their friends. They're more discreet."

Discreet was intriguing.

"What's discreet?"

I explained as best I could.

In closing I said, "they find a place with no people."

"But kids are all over the playground. There is no place to be discreet."

Hmmm...my suggestion?

"Find a place with as few people as possible, so fewer people smell it."

George thought about it for awhile and then said,

"If someone is king, he can fart in public."

Good point.

The Clinton Defense

Somehow I have lost the first half of this speech. He started with an Arkansas story, but quickly morphed into the Clinton reasoning behind an Obama win and a massive defense of why he did what he did (a posture to preserve his legacy?). It was fascinating to watch a brilliant man maneuver the story with his political skills. His history, he feels, depends on it.

Here's the video I have left. Take it away Bill:

He's Lying

I want to write, write, write right now. I have an entire screenplay playing out in my head and I need to write it down (or type it out, as it were) before it is gone. Poof!

Unfortunately and fortunately, I have to go back into the hospital on Friday, so HITCHHIKING IN ALASKA WITH VERDI will not be finished any time soon. I am having my plumbing rewired (again), but this time for good. The bag (dare I name it) will be gone, gone, gone... That's the plan anyway. Tom and I are being cautiously optimistic... this is our new state of being (at least we're still optimistic).

I have heard through a friend that is a few months ahead of me on this course that this surgery is easy and the recovery is fast. I am most worried about a prolonged hospital stay and its effect on the kids. My mom is coming into town tonight and as much as they love Babu, her presence tells them that I'm sick. As all kids, they are amazingly intuitive. Fortunately, I am not stressed about this surgery, I am excited. I am stressed about their reaction, however. I think we will keep them from the hospital this time as it will likely be a scary reminder of previous visits. How do we know what the right decision is? What gives me reassurance is that we can always change our minds depending on the circumstances.

Tom snuck in some Rachel Maddow tonight while the kids were getting a post-dinner snack (they didn't eat much because I accidentally made meyer lemon CHILI pasta instead of plain meyer lemon). Gov. Blogojovich was being interviewed. Tom was commenting on how smooth he was. Cole looked up at Blogojovich and said, "He's lying," and went back to eating. Adeline told her Grandma that Babu was coming and that Mommy was going [to the hospital] but Daddy, Babu, George and Cole would be at home until I came back. George told me that the Incredible Hulk could not have been hurt, as my story suggested, because everyone was afraid of him when he gets big. He dismissed my storytelling and came up with his own story... It's so hard having to deal with such inadequate researchers in the field of superheroism. 

Obama's Western Inaugural Ball

Obama's Western Inaugural Ball 

January 20, 2009

We stood for a LONG time... waiting for the Obamas. It was worth it! We also got to know the secret service folks quite well. 

When Jill and Joe Biden came out, I was terrified that Obama wouldn't make it to the ball. I didn't realize that I was wrapped up entirely too much in seeing him (good luck/no cancer; hope depends on Obama? etc...) 

Naturally, three camera batteries died just before Obama was sworn in. We had to allow our iphones to capture the event (thus the fuzziness). Even my iphone died just before the Bidens arrived. Tom had enough juice for 2 photos of the Bidens and 3 photos of the Obamas (phew).

I promised my friend George that I would post photos of my gowns. Here's the Western Ball one. The Arkansas Ball gown will come later in the form of a video. (I promise George)! 

 

It's J.Lo and Marc Anthony: 

Everything was made so easy for us thanks to my Uncle David and Aunt Sandy. Sandy's law firm was within the secure zone and close to everything, so we were able to get changed, get warm, grab coffee (and jelly beans) and just sit down. Uncle David got up at 4 am on two separate mornings to drive us around (inauguration day and airport). Thank you!

Back from DC

We got back from DC yesterday. I had wanted to blog the events, but, alas there was limited wireless access and my phone kept dying.

I am still processing the extraordinary events of this last week. I expected to be fired up and shouting out when I got home. I also thought I would be yelling and dancing in the National Mall on January 20. Instead, I was mostly quiet at the swearing in ceremony. Granted, I was frozen solid. I couldn't feel my toes underneath stockings, wool socks, monkey socks, feet warmers and two hand warmers stuck in for good measure. Tom was going all out making friends with all of our neighbors and chatting excitedly. I was braving the elements, trying to ignore my neuropathy and in full-on survival mode. The fake fur hood on my jacket made me feel that much more isolated from the world as I couldn't see left to right without wrenching my head around significantly.

We watched the jumbo screen in front of us and sipped Tom's new friends' peppermint tea. Tom held me up in the air to remind me that we were watching it live. I could see the throngs of people and the capital building, the flags and, yes, the helicopters. I'm so glad Tom did that. I had felt alone among all of these people. My fight with cancer was so wound up with the fight for this President. And the message of hope was most definitely tied to my own hope. I knew that this was an amazing historic moment, but it all became personal and I couldn't process it all.

We seemed to join an Eastern European art film following the ceremony. Thousands of people were directed off the mall and onto the south side of DC. Masses of people walked together through construction sites (we literally squeezed through a hole in a fence and jumped from a cement bridge), in and out of dead ends and along a highway with no traffic (roads shut). It was a strange purgatory land where no one talked, they just walked. The buildings had no color (neither did the sky or the water) and random pieces of trash in the wind made more noise than the thousands of people. We saw buses everywhere, but they all said 'not in service.' Behind the buses, there were large, nondescript restaurants in parking lots (one called, fittingly, "The Odyssey"). We would walk up to the restaurant wondering if it was open (it looked closed), get excited when we saw the 'open' sign, and then shocked when we would open the dark door to see hundreds of people in puffy jackets and wool hats huddled inside. "We're at capacity."

We would occasionally ask someone where they were going (because we surely didn't know). "I don't know." "I don't know." No one knew. We all sort of ended up in a very long line for the Metro, not moving, just kind of clustered together for the sheer sheepitude of it. It was surreal. And I think we were all a little numb and not sure how exactly to digest these events. There were many like me, feeling it personally.

We finally made it to a very distant metro where the line actually moved, and at long last a restaurant (we hadn't eaten for a good 20 hours). What has happily settled from our time in DC is the realization that we were all in it together. I felt that I was connected to everyone I passed. If I smiled at someone, they smiled back. I felt as if I were waking up. I was not high and wild. I was slow and feeling. What a moment in our history. And what began for me as a personal, private moment is becoming, as I understand it, a moment for humankind. Wow.

The Rules

We're doing our best to get packed today. I'm not used to thinking so much about what I need... I'm usually packing for more folks, especially those that can't always communicate what they need (besides the superman pajamas).  Or a husband who thinks that he can just ball up some socks, throw a toothbrush in, and be done with it.

Tonight Grandma came to shadow us and see how we do things (she and Poppy will be with the kiddos while we're in DC). George told us that there would be a Star Wars parade... for the good guys, the bad guys would have a later parade... He also told us that one guy (himself) would be representing all the "good" guys, so he may look the same every time.

Having set expectations, he exited the room and then re-entered.  With his hands in his pockets (which he never does) he swaggered in to the dining room.

"Hi Hans Solo," said Tom.

"I'm Luke."

"Of course you're Luke."

Even Princess Lea had her hands in her pockets and a cool swagger. Perhaps we would not have known which Star Wars character was coming next, but the current character began to tell us who was coming next (maybe he got tired of us getting it wrong). When we greeted each one -- CP30, the Emperor, we got the same sly grin in response.

Adeline pushed a chair into the dining room, trying to get in on the action. Cole sang very loud "Rock'n'roll" while doing a puzzle and then a poop. George rejected Adeline's chair and Cole's Rock'n'Roll.  Instead he became Jabba the Hut, Darth Maul, Darth Vader...

I keep thinking of how George would smile when we got the character right (even if he had told us). He was so proud of us (his parents... the cermudgeons), we got it right.  He was so proud of himself for convincing us (even if he had just told us).

I'm still learning the rules of these games, but at least the game is hard, and the rules they're interesting...

Excitement

Exciting news here. My screenplay SOME ROMEO was just announced as a finalist in the Cinema City International Film Festival Screenplay Competition. Tom and I will head down to L.A. for the Feb. 22 awards ceremony. Hoorah! It is ranked as one of the top 25 film festivals, and I am very excited to be a finalist. Here's the link to their website: http://www.cciff.com

I love writing and I love the fact that other people like what I write. 

We're trying to figure out the logistics of the inaugural week. My Uncle David and Aunt Sandy are hooking us up with the ins and outs of DC, not to mention Sandy's office for quick changes before the balls. It's going to be insanely busy and crowded. And emotional. I love that Obama is giving out free tickets to the Neighborhood Ball, which he will visit. They are giving out these tickets through adoption/foster placement companies and Big Brothers and other local organizations. These are people who could probably not afford a ball and could be hugely affected by the experience (not for the moment but for life). It's beautiful.

I am also excited to be sans children for a spell. Also sad to be sans children for even a moment. Adeline's going through a big transition right now and is very clingy and needy (and awesome). Cole just needs so much one-on-one attention and unexpected hugs these days. He's very sensitive right now. George is trying out some bully techniques from the playground and is trying to find the boundaries (he's not a particularly good bully. He hugs his brother and sister almost as soon as he's 'bullied'). But they will be okay without us, right? They'll be with their loving Grandma and Poppy. Of course they'll be okay, but will we be? We'll see...

A Poem

My friend Don Menn wrote a beautiful poem for a dinner party Tom and I hosted this weekend (26 people in all...my oh my). It feels odd posting a poem for me, but I feel that it is such a work of art and love that I need to do it.

“For Coley, Tonight” by Don Menn

Rare is mercy in

the rends we suffer

when we are torn

from ourselves,

lessened by losses,

unimaginable ones

we don’t even get

to clean up after.

 

Through this shredder

we come not always out

confetti fluttering

in memories—ashes, too,

scattered, soon swept away.

 

Best living in the eyes and ears

and skins and arms of those

ever welcome through our doors,

ever at our windows,

in our every chosen frame.

 

That room of shoes

Still has feet to fill them.

That room of hats

Still has its favorite curls.

 

Little by little we are

more and more not here,

except, here tonight,

these frames still hold

all they held, everything

in every mirror

where it belongs.

 

Our bodies themselves

frames relieved to find

everyone, here tonight,

in place around you

found, not lost. 

Thank you, Don.

The Knight and the Boa Constrictor

This afternoon I got a "break" as I made dinner. The boys were outside with Tom. Adeline was upstairs taking out all of the diapers from their bags (wearing a bunny ears' headband on her neck, she proudly showed me the floor covered in them and then tried to hop). 

The light where we live in Berkeley is so pretty in the late afternoon, and the oncoming sunset drew me to the window. I looked down to where Tom was negotiating a sharing issue between George and Cole.He was golden in the light. My knight. The picture became complete when I realized that as he watered the garden with a hose, he had a large stuffed boa constrictor on his back. I love a man that can handle a stuffed boa constrictor on his back... and still water the garden.