So....over.

This is my last post to this blog.  Ever?  Maybe.  Who knows.  It has ceased to serve a meaningful purpose for me.  I am focusing my energy on 9.39 and the playground blog, which I invite you to follow.  Thanks for reading this one.  Bye.

Me, erased, or, What was my name again?

Today I sat down in the orthodontist's office with a woman whose daughter is in speech playgroup with the big girl. And of course we recognized each other, hello hello, who are you here with (she was aghast when I said no one, I have orthodontia at 38) and then I opened my mouth and actually said, "Oh, and I'm Ellie's mom, by the way."

I have been erased.

I have stopped being Sarah, Miss Manville, Ms. Gann, Yo Miz G, Snoot, Sac, or any other moniker by which I have traveled in my life. I have been relegated to the nameless parent, the invisible mother, the omnipresent yet invisible authority under which my children may live, but from whom I derive my entire identity.

This is a problem. I used to be Somebody. I was always growing into myself, of course, but I had a name. I wasn't interpreted by my relationship to someone else. Now, that's all I seem to have.

I know this happens to other women, and for the most part they hate it as much as I do. We used to be people, and then we reproduced. We used to have voices....authentic, individual. Now we just have mouthpieces, and they are three years old and still can't tie their own shoes.

The reclaiming of Self is a process that can take a woman years to complete. I don't know where I am in my journey, but I know I can start in one solid place.

My name is Sarah.

My new year, or, I gotta get it together

Here's my goals for my new year. Two weeks late, but sue me.

1. Have fun. Lots.
2. Run a 5 K. See Cheryl's blog for info on what other women are doing to acheive the same goal. I will start my own running blog when I start running. Stay tuned.
3. No decisions from a place of fear. Ever.

I think that's a good way to start. Also, my new favorite word is "heliotrope."

Not much, or, Otherwise dull

There has been a lot happening but none of it is worth writing about. I am doing my day to day and that is pretty much all I can say about it. 2009 has become, as the kids say, old and busted. I am looking forward to the New Year and whatever it brings me.

Reunion.

Michael Arquero was one of my closest friends in high school. We were together pretty much ever weekend for three years, since we were both in band, and cling together like desperate lovers is what band people do. When we went to college, he landed in Detroit at art school, and I ended up doing whatever it is I've been doing for twenty years. Well, we both showed up at the HN reunion, and this is how we looked. Not too bad. And no, he wasn't pinching my rear in this picture, although his wife alleged that we were smiling like he was.

Three, or, Glad that's over with

Then......

Now.

No one tells you when you have premies what it's going to be like, because they don't know what the outcomes are going to be. They don't know....heart problems? Asthma? Cognitive delay? Speech problems? Vision problems? It's a crapshoot, really. And throw the multiple thing in, and it's even more of an over under. Somehow I managed to have two kids at 33.3 weeks who are super smart, funny, talented, polite, coordinated, interesting and very much their own identities despite the twin situation. I got lucky, and I know it.

And no, the serene smile on my face wasn't the glow of motherhood. It was the constant pump of morphine into my back. Sorry to burst your bubble. :-)

Tired, or, The Latter Days of Summer

I haven't had much to write about in the last few weeks because I am afraid I have gotten rather boring. Same day, in and out. The children are interesting. Emma is pretty much potty trained. She also has croup, which stinks, but at least she scores popsicles on demand. I joined a gym and went to yoga tonight. Whew! Is it hard work. I know I'll feel it tomorrow. School starts for all the girls on 9/1, and for the first time in four years I'll have three uninterrupted hours to myself four days a week. I am alternating between being alarmed and a little skittish and basking in the glory of solitude. I think this might be my last year of stay-at-home.....the call of the classroom is growing, even if I only get a job at a local college teaching 101 part-time. I feel I've been too long out of the game. Who knows.....

More pictures to come......just..........tired.