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This week’s events reminded me of this picture of my...

Thu, 10 Dec 2009 11:47:00 -0500

This week’s events reminded me of this picture of my mother taken right after her wisdom teeth were removed. Hers were infected and she immediately adorned black eyes and intolerable pain after the surgery. I hadn’t seen this picture in years, but I remembered it vividly while in that dentist’s chair.

This photo, along with countless mementos, have been in storage in a friend’s attic since college. I called that friend yesterday and picked up a whole car full of treasures. Creative writing portfolios, sweaters, books, my mother’s thirty-year old photo albums.

I figured I’d show you some of my favorite keepsakes and pictures. If you’d like to see the full version of each photo, you can find them here.

So let’s see what I found.

This is a wooden turtle, carved by my first long-term boyfriend Zak while he was away at boyscout camp:

A ticket stub to one of my first concerts:

My high school ring (on the left), and my mother’s:

I love this most. A valentine from my grandparents from over a decade ago. The answer is Yes:

As for the photos, they’re fantastic. To see my grandparents as children and my parents as teenagers made my week, my month even. I can’t get over how gorgeous my mother is, and my grandmother; how happy my father was, how tiny my sister is in my grandparent’s arms.

Here is my mother through grade school (nice glasses, Mama):

Here she is at about 17, working at Friendly’s — where she met my father:

These are photos of my paternal grandparents with my father and Aunt Karen, circa 1950’s:

My grandmother was a knockout. And I love that photo of the four of them. It’s so Leave it to Beaver.

These photos of my maternal grandmother shocked me. Look at how young she was! That’s her with her doll as a little girl. The babies in the pictures are my mother. And on the bottom right is my great-grandmother, whom we called Mémère.

My mother is the eldest of four:

I found this photo of my parents at their wedding:

And a rare shot of my maternal grandfather. I don’t ever remember him looking this healthy. He died when I was very young after years of battling illness:

My mother was quite the hippie chick back in her day. And she was stunningly beautiful. The photo on the top left is my mother and father and little Carrie-Lynn in the belly. Below that is my Aunt Karen holding my sister.

And my dad, how I remember him when I was very little:

This one shows my mother’s first car, an orange VW Rabbit, and my father’s 1970 Chevy truck with the horse on the hood. I remember a million memories lived out in those vehicles.

I especially like this photo of my dad giving my mama a graduation card when she finished high school. The Beatles haircut makes the photo:

I’m pretty sure my father would still have that belt. He never throws anything away.

Here is life after Carrie-Lynn. She was the second grandchild, and the first girl in the family. My mother was twenty-two years old, and my father, twenty-nine. There are not many photos of me in the albums since I was not yet born, but that is me on the bottom — the little peanut in the pool:

We are in my grandparent’s backyard in the photo, and again, my mother’s beauty knocks me off my feet:

Although I am not in the albums, I do have a handful of baby photos of myself. My favorite is the top right picture of me sleeping in my crib. My mother said I always slept this way, and I think I continued to sleep with my feet off of the bed until a friend told me during a sleepover that their could be ghosts under the bed and you should not sleep this way.

And what will our babies look like? Here are some photos of Sean as a wee boy:

My Father-In-Law is always on the hunt to find baby photos of Sean to give me because he knows how much I love them. He handed me a handful of baby Sean photos last weekend. This one is probably my favorite:

We were a very tight family growing up in the world of film cameras. I can’t help but think about the size of the photo collection my child will grow up to have, and I hope that it brings as much joy that baby photos bring to my life. Maybe you can have too many pictures, too many moments captured in time. But for me, who doesn’t have many memories to look back on, I feel like the luckiest woman in the world when I come across old photographs.

These literally took my breath away.

Wisdom on wisdom teeth removal

Wed, 09 Dec 2009 14:38:01 -0500

My tongue is wandering. I haven’t let it get as far as actually touching the stitches in my gums, but it knows they’re there and wants a feel. My mouth feels fragile and at any minute I am afraid I am going to tear something or swallow a blood clot. I don’t hurt as much as I assumed when my dentist prescribed three separate drugs, Vicodin among them. I’ve been happily eating my sweet potatoes and butter from the left side of my mouth, drinking water, and sipping Dayquil every few hours in between my 4 doses of penicillin. My face is chipmunk-cheek swollen, but I don’t notice until I look in the mirror.

I can handle the pain. I cannot, however, handle the dentist’s chair.

I’ve known for about ten years now that I would have to get my wisdom teeth out. My mouth is small and my mother before me had an awful time when hers came in sideways, I knew I was next. It was set to be my own rite of passage, removing these teeth, and one that I didn’t mind bypassing.

Ten years of anguish hit me as soon as I sat down in that chair. Ten years of thinking, “Holy shit, is this gonna hurt.” Ten years of dread.

I walked into my exam room and the dental assistant with the accent remembered me from July’s visit, “Oh, you are that Verizon girl!”. Either I had made quite the impression, or she had written my occupation on my chart to make me a promoter of the Smile Center, Inc.

She stuck two Q-tips of numbing pink goo in my mouth and left the room. My heart raced. “It’s not too late!” I thought, “I can still make a run for it”. I found my throat dry and unable to swallow and I panicked further. I felt the throwing up sensation although I hadn’t eaten beforehand and I knew my throat muscles were paralyzed.

The dentist came in and examined me. I told him which teeth hurt, he told me we were removing the other ones. Great, so I am here for nothing. This surgery will not stop the pain that rushed me in for emergency removal. Again, I began to wonder if perhaps my dentist simply wanted me to come back sooner — when I could no longer take the pain from the impacted teeth he had sneakishly left in my mouth. Did he want more money? Again, when I questioned him, he told me this is the plan of action we had to take: remove the painless teeth.

He left the room. I was left alone again. And when I tell you that I began to freak out, I mean it. I freeeeeeaked out. My heart began to race, my teeth began to chatter, my whole body seizured. I was terrified.

The assistant came back in the room soon after and I immediately blurted out, “I’m terrified!” as I shook. She tried to calm me down. “Breathe in to five, and slowly out,” she repeated in her thick accent. “Breathe in to five, you are not doing it.” I trembled visibly.

“I’m just scared” I said, “I’m sorry”. I hated myself.

She tried to comfort me, “But why? I have seen 12 year olds handle this better than you are right now. Breathe in to five.”

“Twelve year olds don’t have severe anxiety” I answered defensively.

The dentist came in and watched me helplessly shake. The assistant brought me a blanket. “Please just knock me out!” I pleaded with him. “Please! I’m too scared.” My teeth chattered.

He told me the same, “Take a deep breath and slowly let it out. You’ve already gone through the hardest part. Numbing your gums will hurt most and you’ve already done it. What are you afraid of?”

My brain began to wind through his question. I was afraid of him opening my gums and not being able to leave that chair. I was afraid of tasting blood, or throwing up on him (and I almost did when he accidentally stuck an instrument too far down my throat while sewing me back up) or feeling my roots being cut. I felt like I was in A Clockwork Orange being forced to watch horrid acts of sex and violence for hours. I couldn’t get up if I needed to, and loss of control scares the living snot out of me.

When I calmed down enough under my blanket, he laid me back. I asked again to be knocked out and again he told me I was fine. He began to cut open my gums.

It did hurt, yes, but the sound of him grinding my teeth and snipping the roots like a haircut was unbearable. I can handle the pain, I cannot handle the thought of bone grinding.

I kept my eyes closed the entire time.

When it was over he said, “Now, tell me, was that the worst thing you’ve ever been through in your life?”

I answered, “YUP” and smiled.

I reached over and hugged my dentist. I hugged him to thank him, maybe, or to let myself soak in that it was done. As much as I hated him for keeping me awake and putting me through that spine tingling procedure, I loved him because it was over.

It doesn’t matter that all three dogs are from the south,...

Wed, 09 Dec 2009 13:29:36 -0500

It doesn’t matter that all three dogs are from the south, when the snow hits they are typical New England pups.

My wisdom teeth growing in sideways kept me up all last night. ...

Mon, 07 Dec 2009 21:18:57 -0500

My wisdom teeth growing in sideways kept me up all last night. After I finished a 300-page book and watched Dan in Real Life (great movie) for the third time this week, I decided I can’t ignore the pain any longer. This morning I took action and called the dentist. My top two wisdom teeth — numbers 1 and 16 — will be coming out kicking and screaming at 10AM tomorrow morning.

Kyle is teething. After taking his Christmas card photos this...

Sun, 06 Dec 2009 21:09:00 -0500

Kyle is teething. After taking his Christmas card photos this morning, we sat on the couch as he chewed his rattle and made pained cooing sounds; “Owwwwwwwooooo”.

Hang in there, little buddy. Solid food is gonna be so worth it.

My puppy ate Jesus’ crib out of our manger last night...

Sat, 05 Dec 2009 22:42:23 -0500

My puppy ate Jesus’ crib out of our manger last night while I was in the bath. So Jesus now sleeps prematurely in a Nikon lens cap. In Avery’s defense, Jesus’ crib did smell like a wet cigar. How could anyone resist?!

Our poor Lord.

I’ve solved the Tiger Woods puzzle. Early reports said...

Sat, 05 Dec 2009 22:37:00 -0500

I’ve solved the Tiger Woods puzzle.

Early reports said it is rumored that he is taking prescription pills such as Ambien.

This report found Tiger snoring shoeless in the street. Ambien is a sleep walking drug. It’s the one where people are found eating entire bags of hamburger rolls while conked. Tiger was obviously on too many prescription sleep aids and does not want the drugs to effect his career.

So the affair stories are temporarily distracting the drug abuse.

And that’s why they pay me the big bucks.

Call the tabloids folks, we’ve solved the mystery.

Stuck in the couch

Thu, 03 Dec 2009 20:49:44 -0500

Stuck in the couch

Three preteen boys sat around a table in the library today,...

Wed, 02 Dec 2009 22:36:00 -0500

Three preteen boys sat around a table in the library today, obviously bored and feeling rowdy. Loud snickers continued from their seats several times after being yelled at by the librarian to keep quiet or go outside. One boy announced loudly to his buddy,

“Stop jerking off in the public library!”

The stereotypical spinster librarian in her denim skirt did force them to leave soon after. I was amused at that boy’s attempt to embarrass his friend. I mean, it was totally obvious that indeed that kid must’ve been jerking off to warrant that this-is-what-you-don’t-do-in-a-library advice. I would’ve stopped such an act myself had it been one of my friends yanking his chain.

The computer terminals in my local public library are housed in the Nonfiction wing. This added bumbling makes book browsing feel like mall shopping. Today, I escaped my memoirs and poetry section for a few minutes to sit alone in Fiction. I chuckled aloud at the irony of sitting down in a quiet room filled with falsehoods and imaginary characters only to find two Watchtower pamphlets conveniently “left” on the table. Religious solicitation leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I decided to brave the noise in Nonfiction.

I came out with six books. Two are reference books on nutrition in my many attempts to gain weight and eat healthier, one is a book that I own already but was written by a friend of mine so I like to check it out anyway, and three are memoirs by Donald Hall, Sting, and Andy Rooney.

I read Donald Hall while in the bathtub as soon as I got home. After stewing in hot water for an hour I heard classical music coming from the living room and found this happening:

So I brought my book out of seclusion and the five of us sat around just doing what we do best.

Wanna see what our nights look like with three dogs?

I had a potato chip for each of them in my hand for that last picture. Don’t they just look like the most pathetic things? I mean, really.

Sean and I both had today off. So we took Avery hiking to...

Tue, 01 Dec 2009 19:06:01 -0500

Sean and I both had today off. So we took Avery hiking to Roraback. Ended up staying out for two hours, and by the time we were home Avery passed out immediately on the couch. Perfect day for hiking. I can’t believe how green it is for December 1st.

Asymmetrical

Mon, 30 Nov 2009 22:19:00 -0500

I found this video from earlier this year. I have THEE smartest brother-in-law. Gavin, age 6.

I love Christmas, really I do, but it’s not the same...

Mon, 30 Nov 2009 22:02:00 -0500

I love Christmas, really I do, but it’s not the same without my sister. But alas, she’s in North Carolina and I’m in Connecticut. And we have to go to the Festival of Lights together, and sing O Holy Night, and eat popcorn out of a giant tin, and eat snow! She can’t do all that with me if she’s gonna live so far away.

Humbug.

Sleepyheads

Mon, 30 Nov 2009 15:51:07 -0500

Sleepyheads

Last year we bribed them with M&Ms. This year we bribed...

Sun, 29 Nov 2009 22:26:32 -0500

Last year we bribed them with M&Ms. This year we bribed them by letting them be the photographer, too! The kids are at that age where taking staged photos is becoming a bit more difficult. Someone is having a rough day, or wants to run around instead, and no one really wants to sit still so that Auntie Lauren can take their Christmas card photos.

However, as soon as I promised Alex and Ciara that they could take pictures with my camera once we were done with the photo shoot, they were perfect angels.

And since I can’t show you the photos we took today until closer to Christmas, here is a photo that Alex took of Shannon and Sean. Nothing like a little kid’s perspective to capture the rambunctious behavior of a brother and sister at play.

We picked up our Christmas tree from the local firehouse this...

Sat, 28 Nov 2009 16:49:00 -0500

We picked up our Christmas tree from the local firehouse this morning and I’ve been engulfed in Christmas spirit since. Sean doesn’t love Christmas like I do, so as he watched the UConn football game up in our bedroom I spun my Christmas vinyl and untangled lights, drank tea and decorated the tree.

This is our fourth tree as a couple and we are no longer a tree-filled-with-generic-boxed-ornaments family. I loved the ornaments on my childhood Christmas tree and am happy that our tree is starting to collect the odds and ends that a true Christmas tree deserves. Ornaments like these which make it our own:

But as a couple we began picking out an ornament together for each year back in 2006. Sometimes they tell a story, sometimes they don’t, but we pick out our yearly ornament and stamp a date on them.

Here are our four Christmases in annual ornaments:

This year’s ornament is a pretty unique one that we picked up at Target last night. 2009 was a year of big changes for our family. Nephews started kindergarten, brothers started first grade, babies were born. We began to think about maybe having babies of our own soon. So this year we did not spend a “first Christmas together”, or buy a house, or adopt three dogs — as we have in ornaments prior — but we did have a year together filled with change and a year of hope that as we age together our family can only get closer as we grow.

So we picked this one.

As I decorated the tree this morning, I couldn’t help but to think back to all of my childhood Christmases, to the memory of my grandmother’s Christmas tree. My grandmother had a large artificial Victorian tree and each year she covered it in beautiful mauve bows and baby’s breath and fancy crystal doves and angels. But her tree grew as ours is growing and soon it was littered with hand crafted red and orange ornaments made by us, her grandbabies, in our respective schools. I remember our signatures adorning her tree as we signed our pieces of art. And although some might think our reds and scribbles could ruin her impressive Victorian tradition, she seemed proud to display us on her tree.

I don’t have any of those ornaments saved from when we were kids. Family feuds have held things of such importance at ransom and baby photos and memories have gone astray. And when we decorate our tree each year, I get to hang Sean’s childhood ornaments: a sleigh with his name inscribed, and a green ball that commemorates Sean’s hockey team that says, “S. Malone # 11” on one side and “Echo ‘86” on the other. But I don’t get to hang any ornaments from my youth.

I am always glad that Sean has a piece of his childhood on our tree and saddened that there is nothing from mine. So as Sean fell asleep to the football game in our bedroom and I jazzed up the tree with a sleeping Jasmine close by, I began to wish that my tree could have more imperfection on it. I wanted the reds and oranges of my childhood back.

I counted the things I now own that were my grandmother’s and came up with very little. I have a handful of video clips and three dozen photos of her that I took in the few years before she passed away. And I have a wooden heart which was carved by my grandfather and painted by my grandmother when I was born. It hung on the wall in their kitchen along with the names of all of the cousins for as long as I remember. So one. I have one thing that was my grandmother’s.

Suddenly, I lit up. I rushed upstairs and fished the heart from my drawer in my office where it has been stashed away for five years. I placed a hook on my grandparent’s wooden heart and hung it on the tree.

It is fitting that we chose an angel as our yearly ornament this year. And that just when I began to give up hope that I would ever have a piece of my childhood on our tree, that one thing of my grandmother’s that I was lucky to inherit found its way from out of my desk drawer and filled that void. Always believe? You’re damn skippy, I will.

Should I wrap her?

Sat, 28 Nov 2009 14:24:13 -0500

Should I wrap her?

Here’s hoping no one mistakes the Christmas tree for a...

Sat, 28 Nov 2009 13:22:29 -0500

Here’s hoping no one mistakes the Christmas tree for a potty

Do you hear what I hear?

Sat, 28 Nov 2009 01:19:45 -0500

I LOVE this video of the dogs and me dancing last year. Tomorrow (today, technically), we get our Christmas tree! Bring on the holiday cheer! Wooooohoooo!

I joined the rush of Black Friday shoppers today, but I am...

Fri, 27 Nov 2009 23:35:00 -0500

I joined the rush of Black Friday shoppers today, but I am pretty sure I don’t quite understand the concept. People were fighting over the last $600 big screen, and waiting in long lines for a photo frame at half price. I was there hoping to find some dog toys on sale for my babies, or maybe some knee-high knitted socks, or feet pajamas. Things that really I could buy on a day when there weren’t a million other people in the store. I left Target with a bottle of Vitamins, and four other stores with no purchase at all.

Sean was working and I was glad to be feeling pretty good today after a not-so-hot yesterday. So I walked around, listening to wives call their husbands to convince them that “Honey, we NEED new pots and pans!” I called my husband at least eight times, because work was slow on his end and I missed him on mine.

Later, at the mall, I stopped at the second pet store of the day which indeed had 30% off of ridiculously priced dog toys and slumped past the puppies in their empty cages. My three babies were at home playing in the basement and I was determined to spoil them with a new weekend toy for the holidays. But here I found myself in a room with dozens of little babies who did not have families. Ah, pet stores.

It’s a sore spot for me because in order to stop puppy mills, people have to stop adopting their pups from pet stores. In a way, to save these mills from spitting out puppy after puppy in indescribable conditions, we have to turn our backs on these already born babies who need homes just as much as any baby. They need Mamas.

For a short second, I paused and studied the puppies. One in particular caught my eye. A little female calico boxer puppy. She was sitting up and appeared to be fast asleep. A shopper paused next to me and we began to talk about how sweet that little boxer puppy was, as she swayed back and forth in her sleep.

And then I noticed that the puppy was shaking. Hard. And acting almost drunk as she tried to keep her head up. I became enraged and began stating the obvious to the woman next to me, “I don’t think she’s sleeping, I think she’s sick. That pisses me off!” I said it just like that. Totally lost my cool and stormed out.

The rage exploded in me as I walked through the mall. I could cry, or vomit. I called Sean.

Puppies are euthanized at shelters because there are not enough homes for them, while puppies in pet stores are sold for a thousand dollars…and the cycle continues.

I couldn’t save that little boxer baby at the mall today, and it’s weighing heavy on me tonight, but I do have three loving pups of my own who pig piled Sean and me with kisses when we got home.

Adopt instead.

Manchester Road Race 2009

Thu, 26 Nov 2009 23:35:00 -0500

There is so much I can write about this morning’s adventures in babysitting at the Thanksgiving Day road race. Like when how these gorgeously muscular bodies came running towards the finish line, racing for first place, and Ciara yells, “LOOK! THERE IS A BLACK MAN!” or how she saw a person dressed up as an M&M and yelled, “M&M, COME OVER HERE!”. Or how Alex felt like posing for pictures with mascots but refused to smile. Or the little boy in a walker who made it through all 4.2 miles of the race.

If you feel like seeing the pictures from this morning, here is a video:

Or you can see all of the photos here