Category Archives: Personal

Roan, Now.

[Note:  My friend/advisor/comrade Lola reminded me yesterday that I haven’t been asking/pleading/procuring votes for the Nickelodeon Parents’ Picks awards, for which I am nominated.  So here I go: please click here and vote for me, then come back and enjoy the Pistols and the Popcorn.  Thanks!]

 
Roan blows my mind when he draws for me.  It’s not that I think he’s particularly gifted as an artist, but he is awesome at letting me know he thought about me, during the day.  Every day when I pick him up from his class, he has armfuls of paper, filled with pictures, usually specifically for me with either “MOM!” or “JODI!” scrawled on the top to mark intended ownership.  Sometimes, he has typed and printed a message, like, “Hot today parck today ice krem today say yes today” which is quite compelling to a mother like me, who just can’t help but say “Yep yep” when it’s presented that way. 

 
I wonder how long my boy will have his mind so focused on the things we do together.  How long until his autonomy takes over and his life is more about his friends and his experiences with them, than his with me.  I look forward to that for him, for him to branch out and see how he impacts others and they him, but I just cannot help but feel greedy and sentimental about my Roan – the archetypal “mama’s boy” who can still be bribed with extra songs at night, or the promise of me laying down with him for an extra five minutes.  I know these things will change.  But now – while they are still this way, I’ve just got to give words to this time in our relationship and how thankful I am that I’ve been able to have it with such an interesting and sweet boy.


It’s Going (yawwwwn) Just Fine

[Note from Jodi: Many thanks to everyone who helped with support during the broken arm incident.  It’s funny that it helps to hear that other people have been there – and worse – but it does help.  Thank you everyone.  Also, if you haven’t noticed, the Appaman Raffle  is taking place right now, to benefit the Lance Armstrong Foundation.  Click here to find out what the prize is, and click here to donate any amount to my Personal Livestrong Challenge page.  Thanks!!]


It’s Going (yawwwwn) Just Fine. 

I know that my memories of being pregnant with Roan may be a little distorted.  For instance, when people ask if I had morning sickness with him, I reply that I did not.  I proclaim that it was an easy pregnancy, in which I was finishing up some college courses, secured a great job, facilitated group sessions with drug addicts and worked right up to the day I was to be induced. 

 

However, I do remember one snippet of a conversation with my brother-in-law, Rocky, where I proclaimed that I couldn’t understand why anyone would do this more than once, to which he replied, “It’s because you will forget”.  He was right as rain.  I have been having a fairly easy time thus far being pregnant with Roan’s teammate (whom he is certain is a girl.  I feel it’s a boy.  Anson inexplicably is firm that we have twins though about 6 ultrasounds have shown otherwise.)  Still, before I became pregnant, I could do pretty much everything I wanted to do, PLUS everything Roan and Anson wanted me to do and feel like I had energy to burn.  I was teaching five Muay Thai Kickboxing classes per week, running about 15 – 20 miles per week, and was at this hard-fought place with my body where my weight was cool with me while I was still eating all the things I felt like I wanted to eat.  In short – my body felt like it was my dominion. 


So, predictably I’m about to tell you it’s all changed.  True it has but the thing that’s getting under my skin?  I’m tired.  I’m tired as I roll out of bed in the morning, after I drop Roan off from school, I have to work up my energy to put my house together every day and it takes all my power to show up to Muay Thai.  I feel lucky that the nauseous thing has so far pretty much stayed at bay, so I’m not going to complain (hang on is this complaining?  No no, just documenting.  Seriously.  If you could hear my tone, it would be upbeat and friendly and not whiney at all no sireeebob.  I’m not even bringing up the fact that I’ve broken out my “big girl” clothes.)
 


 This energy deficit was so pathetically evident on Sunday for Father’s Day.  Anson, Roan and I went to a favorite restaurant for brunch (I had yummy Sour Cream Pancakes).  Then we hopped the subway to get to Dylan’s Candy Bar, which is an extravagant candy mecca owned by Dylan Lauren (daughter of up and coming designer Ralph).  Walking in there is like licking twelve lollipops while simultaneously mainlining a bag of chocolate.  The air is sweet and cool and smells of everything good.  Everything.  While Roan was losing his mind going through the three floors of candy shop, I had to go sit down and drink a bottle of water.  Because I couldn’t keep up, because I am 102 years old.  So I finally got my mojo back and suggested we take the Sky Tram over to Roosevelt Island to hang out on the grass by a beautiful little lighthouse and the boys were into it.  We arrived, and this time not only did I sit rather than play freeze tag, I demanded a smoothie.  I don’t know who I am anymore.  It was actually a lovely day and both of my guys love this new more vulnerable and tired me, but I don’t think it’s all that cute. 
 

 

I suppose I can take solace in the fact that the day spent my Roan, as evidenced by him falling asleep one full hour before bed time, and putting up no resistance as we carried him to bed, only muttering “Is your wrist strap on?  Is your wrist strap on?”  That’s very telling, isn’t it? And Anson is laying here next to me, tearing up while watching Extreme Home Makeover (Ok, that’s possibly crossing the TMI line because he will never admit that in public but if I’m lying I’m dying it is happening right now) and it is all of 8:13 PM and I see him fading.  So, in essence, I’m going to frame it up t
his way: being pregnant has finally helped me travel to a place where relaxing on the couch trumps doing dishes, and playing Wii counts as quality time for the family.
  Everyone seems to be adapting just fine.

The Worst Saturday Night, Ever. So Far.

Snap. 

I think that when we see people get hurt it affects us partly because we are vulnerable, it could happen to us, and that is part of our horror. That feeling is amplified by, oh I dunno about a zillion, when we think of our children getting hurt.  So on Saturday night, when Roan missed his footing on the stepstool in our kitchen and my reach didn’t break his fall and he hit the floor backwards I closed my eyes before I looked at him, and I knew somehow – I didn’t want to see.  So I grabbed him close and said, “It’s ok”.  I think I said it as an instruction to myself rather than a comfort to my son.  And when I saw the contortion of his little left arm, then met the horrified eyes of my husband, I knew it was time to be strong and cool and leave my own freak-out until later.  Roan’s arm was clearly broken, and I didn’t have a plan.

 

The best I  could do was, “Anson, go grab a cab.  We’ll take it to the ER.  No wait, should we call 911?  No go get the taxi.  No, should we call Kara or Lola for a ride? They’ll get here quickly.  No just get a cab.  Yes, taxi.  Now.”

 

Only in Brooklyn.  Or Maybe Manhattan.  OK, Maybe any Metropolitan Area.

Just an aside about Anson: he is strong and smart and the most capable person I’ve ever met at the widest assortment of things.  But he doesn’t really function so well under intense crisis type pressure (he almost fainted at our wedding.  That was sort of like a crisis.  Made me love him more, though.)  So while he was out I wondered if he would make it back, or be lying in a heap on the sidewalk.  Roan only cried, and mildly so, for about 3 minutes, and just started asking questions, like why is Dad getting a cab?  Where are we going?  I told him we had to take him to the hospital to fix his arm, because it really needed some help.  His eyes brightened, and he said, “Help like I’ll need a cast?”  I told him for sure he would, and he was calm and waited for me to get my shoes on.

 

Anson returned and had triumphed in a magnificent way.  He did not hail a taxi.  No, he flagged down an ambulance and brought them to our front door.  I grew brand new confidence in that man right then.  We got to the hospital, and Roan was definitely in shock as he had sort of shut down, but he could answer questions, and was as calm as could be.  He mostly complained about the ice pack the paramedics had put on his arm because it was cold. 

 

No Cell Phone Usage Allowed

When my boys went into the X-Ray room I sort of had my own special break down.  I couldn’t be with them because I’m pregnant.  Being alone and knowing that this process was going to be very painful for Roan – moving the arm around in different positions to get all the angles – I couldn’t stand not being in there with him.  So I started texting my family (ignoring all the signs that said not to use cell phones), and when there was more and more and more time passing I posted my situation on Facebook which at the time I felt kind of dumb about doing but I just needed to have some community around me.  And you know – it worked.  I started getting loads of texts and comments and support from my people.  And that helped because I could hear my boy whimpering in the room next door for over ½ hour and I thought I would die not being next to him.

 

Sometimes Rainbows Are Not All That Beautiful.
The X-rays showed that Roan had broken both his radius and ulna in the forearm.
  The doctor said it was the kind of break they’d need to anesthetize him to set.  Since Roan had just eaten, he also said they’d have to wait at least two hours before they did that.  So we were looking at the entire night, in the ER.  Roan and I started watching Tom and Jerry on my iPhone.  He wasn’t complaining, and I was trying to not look at his arm, bent like a rainbow.  He had received no pain medication, but was just chilling and enjoying some Looney Tunes.  I was a proud and sad mama.
 


Making the World Small

Another doctor showed up on the scene and said that since he seemed to be tolerating the pain so well, she thought she could set it just by injecting a local anesthetic into the arm where it was broken.  The idea of that totally threw me – I mean, I didn’t want him to feel that.  But I also knew he’d probably feel better if he didn’t have to be put under.  So we agreed, and I put my forehead on his, and cupped my hands over our eyes, trying to make our world together really small as she put a giant needle into his arm, where it was broken.  He cried in pain and all I could do was kiss his eyeballs, forehead, and cheeks telling him all about the homemade ice cream we’d eat when we got home.  In my life, I’ve never wanted to take pain away from someone so desperately.  But true to form, he
bounced back within a few minutes, and as the doctor began to set his arm, my friend Lola showed up, with a blanket for the boy, a sweater for me, and the calmest sweetest smiles that lifted everyone up.
  Her husband was waiting outside, to give us all a ride home.

 

And…..Breathe.

We got home and set up a Family Slumber Party in the living room.  We ate ice cream and started to watch a movie but Roan fell asleep within minutes.  I don’t think I slept at all, as I kept waking up to make sure he was ok.  Anson was in the same boat as me.  We wondered to each other how we had been so traumatized by this event – a boy breaking his arm.  It’s a right of passage, a common childhood occurrence, and one that we’ve both been through in our own younger days.  But it was really intense to watch Roan have to go through it, and to shine so brightly as he did.  I wouldn’t have been less proud had he wailed like a maniac the whole time, but his peaceful demeanor and willingness to get through it gave me my own sense of peace.

 
So now, with his friends and cousins digging into their own hard-earned money in their piggy banks to buy him presents (Wii games that he can play one-handed), and with cards and designs and flowers and pictures being gifted to him, Roan feels less encumbered and more like a rock star.  He is proud of his new ideas and ways he’s finding to do things one-handed.  He hasn’t complained even once about pain, or anything else for that matter.  He sat and watched me teach kickboxing yesterday, and waited until after class to kick at the bag a little, and do some wicked crosses, as his jab is currently unavailable.  I’m finally beginning to feel a little more normal, no longer on high alert. 


So this is what it is to be a parent, huh?  This is some scary stuff. 

Super Glam Prize – Segway of the Hudson Valley

 
This past weekend contained too much drama and intensity for me to get my narrative on (but in order to not be overly dramatic myself, I must say that everything is ok and of course you’re going to hear all about it), so luckily I have a friend who is interested in raising money for the Livestrong Challenge who has not only donated a tremendously generous prize, but has also described it well beyond what I could ever do.  Checkitout, from Segway of the Hudson Valley:


You’ve been reading her blog for years. You voted her into the winner’s circle of the Bloggies and you know more about her than you know about your grandma. You’ve heard all about the Segway Personal Transporter but don’t understand it as it defies what your Physics teacher taught you. You giggle at these things, but secretly really (really really) want to take one out for a spin.  You also have some strong animosity towards Cancer and want to help fight it. 


If this sounds like you (and you know it does), you’ll want to be buying a raffle ticket for the Pistols ‘n Popcorn Segway Tour of the Hudson River & Historic Poughkeepsie. Long name, no doubt, but loads of fun. You’ll get to glide (that’s what us Segway folks call it) along the Hudson with Jodi & Anson on your very own Segway PT for at least 2 hours, taking in the gorgeous Hudson River. You’ll get to scope the bridge that held the title of Longest Bridge In The World for a measly 2 weeks before Jodi’s own Brooklyn Bridge stole the title. You’ll learn all about the elusive river monster that lurks in the Hudson. You’ll see (& covet) one hell of a mustache one of the Segway guys sports. You get to get out of the damn city for a day & enjoy the rest of New York (gasp!). Did I mention you get to hang with Jodi? And fight cancer at the same time??

 

Listen people: Jason from Segway of the Hudson Valley has offered up six spots (which doesn’t include the two spots that Anson and I are stealing for ourselves.  I’ve held out long enough, and really really want to do this.)  Each spot has a value of $65.00.  For every $5.00 donation you make to my Livestrong Challenge page, a virtual raffle ticket will be generated for you to win all six spots.  The winner will be drawn at the Fundraiser we are holding on June 30th at Layla Jones Pizza here in lovely balmy Brooklyn.  We love to get out of the city and into nature, especially during the summer, no?.  Here’s a chance for a quickie, with friends.  Scheduling will be worked around you, so really why haven’t you clicked here to donate yet?  Oh, you were waiting for me to be quiet?  Ok.  I’m done for now.  Good luck!  (If you’re wondering why I’m involved with the Livestrong Challenge, click here.  If you’re curious about other prizes available, click here.  All raffles will re-open on the night of June 30, in person at Layla Jones Pizza.)  (OK, for reals now I’m done and will be quiet.)

Unreasonably Happy

[If you haven’t seen the amazingness that is called Lori Nelson and the art she creates, click here to check it out. Then click here to donate to my Livestrong Challenege page.  For every $5.00 you donate, a virtual raffle ticket will be generated for you to win a portrait hand painted by the afore mentioned amazingness Nelson.  You don’t have to live in NY to win this, so get to it.  More details here.]


I’m the Friend Who Drives You Bananas

I think I’m mostly a naïve person, and maybe a little careless.  My naivety shows in my belief that everything will just be fine, unless it wont be, in which case, well I probably couldn’t have changed it anyway.  So I live my life in this way, fingers crossed most of the time, but always hopeful that the universe is conspiring in my favor.  I understand that not everyone is built this way.  Some people may be wired exactly the opposite way, and I’m the kind of person that makes them furrow their brow, shake their head and breathe deep. 


One Should Wait Until One’s First Trimester is Over to Announce One’s Pregnancy

This personality trait started shining bright as a lighthouse when I found out I was pregnant.  Of course I told Anson right away, and we kept it to ourselves for a full 12 hours at which point I couldn’t bear to keep it from Roan.  There are a lot of really good, really valid reasons why I shouldn’t have done that.  But there I was on a Saturday morning sitting on the couch eating Lucky Charms with him when I just started a guessing game with him and led him to his big guess that he was going to be granted his wish for a teammate in this household.  Roan was so excited.  He was excited in a way that surprised me – it went all the way down to his core, and made him think about all the things he could do would do with this new person.  That very day he placed his hand on my stomach and said, “I can’t wait for that baby to kick me.”

 

Roan kept it to himself for a full 15 minutes before he began shouting it on the streets.  It was way to early to be telling people, but I couldn’t help but be caught up in his magical enthusiasm.  Again, my naiveties lit up bright by letting it get into the world that quickly.  For me, it was ok, though.  I know all the millions of things that can go wrong; I’ve seen heartbreak with my own mother in a pregnancy that ended too early. Still, in my life I find I hang on tight to these happy things, and if tragedy creeps up on me, I will feel it then.  I will not anticipate it.  So I let Roan and his excitement run loose on the playground, at our friend’s homes, and wherever he needs it to manifest. 

 

Is it Wrong to Call a Closet a Nursery?

I am of course worried about some things – will this
pregnancy be as easy as Roan’s?
  I’m older now – a whopping 38 which in my old digs of Utah is a little old to be having a child but here in Brooklyn, people will likely shake their head and compare me to Bristol Palin.  (Viva la Madres de Brooklyn!!)  We have exactly no spare space.  We have exactly no spare change.  We have exactly no baby supplies as my penchant to get rid of everything that hasn’t been used in the last 20 minutes rules this household. 

 

But mostly, I’m excited to see my boy Roan with his new friend, whom he is anticipating with the most love and excitement that I have ever seen.  He has started making a mental list of what we need to buy, and randomly will verbalize the list, “Hey mom, we can’t wrap the baby in towels so we’re going to have to buy it a blanket, ok?  Also: diapers, cause you know…..”  Roan stares at the printouts from the ultrasound with fascination and sees things that I cannot see.  He’s practicing singing songs, reading books, and has committed to wearing a sling to carry the baby down these Brooklyn streets.  I promise to you:  I will photograph that.


The Yin to my Yang

And my husband Anson, who is one of those people who is driven crazy by people with my sense of “what will be will be”, he’s hanging on tight and trying his best to keep up with his two pregnancy-proud banshees.  Anson wants this child, he’s excited for the future and for where we are now, but he worries so much more than I do.  But too bad for him – all the literature out there says that while your wife is pregnant, she is always right, always just and always deserving of your total support (don’t make me site sources, just trust me).  So this is going to be a good time for all of us.  Some of us may just need to practice our breathing excercises more than others and I’m not talking about me.

Super Glam Prize – Portrait by Lori Nelson

[Special plea from me: The voting works again, so if you feel like I shouldn’t be getting clobbered in the Nickelodeon Parents’ Picks for Best Brooklyn Blog, click here, vote for me, and then come back to see what cool things are in store for you here, today.  Thanks!]


Super Glam Prize!

Beginning today, right now, yes this minute for every $5.00 you donate to my Livestrong Challenge Page (to benefit the Lance Armstrong Foundation), a virtual raffle ticket will be generated for you.  The winner will be drawn at our fundraising event to be held at Layla Jones Pizza on June 30th, beginning at 5:00 pm.  You do not need to be present to win, but you do need to be present to eat their pizza, which I DO recommend above all others.  Indeed.

 
What are you entering to win?  A hand painted portrait of your child by New York artist phenom Lori Nelson.  I would tell you how awesome she is and how magical her work is, but why don’t you just take an eyeful right here, right now, and then help me fight cancer and hopefully get a piece of artwork you will love forever and ever, by clicking here and donating any amount.  Every increment of $5.00 gets you one ticket.  (Secret pointer to help you win: I’d get a few.)  Just an FYI: you do not need to live in NY to win this prize.  Lori can work off a picture, and knows how to ship things.  She’s not just talented, she’s smart as well.

  

Also one more announcement:  If you live anywhere within the Tri-State area, you’ve already heard Roan screaming this from the rooftops.  Or if you’ve passed him on the street, he’s probably at least whispered it to you.  He has asked me if I’ve told the people that read about him (yes, he knows you exist, and lets me know what things are ok to talk about.  He’s like Tony Danza – He’s the Boss.)  I told him no I haven’t written about it yet, and he looked at me like I wasn’t speaking English.  So, I’ll let his workbook exercise from last night fill you in.  Get your decoder rings on…

  My name is: roan
I am 5 3/4 years old.
I was born on Dec 19.
I have schrat hair.
I have tow eyes.
My mother’s name is Jodi.
My father’s name is anson.
My favorite food is PIZZa.
My favorite color is all
.

  My favorite book is CHaPR Books.
My favorite movie is all on my TV. 
My favorite thins to do are SWIng VIDYO Gaem

   My brothers and sisters are In Moms Tomy.

(You see where we went with that?  It’s true.  Except it isn’t “brothers and sisters”, it is one or the other.  We all agree that we’ll be cool with either.  Roan is seriously excited about this, and already has taken to letting me know when he thinks my belly is getting fat, which is always nice to hear.)

It Just Keeps Getting Better

Did you guys hear the one about the blogger geek who thought she’d throw a little fundraiser together to benefit the Lance Armstrong Foundation, but couldn’t find anyone to donate any prizes?

 

Well that’s not ME, suckahs.

 

Because I am surrounded by greatness, I have had greatness gifted to me.  I’d like to pass this greatness on to you, because you know, you’re super great.  Since announcing this shin-dig, I’ve had more prizes added to the kitty.  Meow.  Such as?  Well…..

 
Tickets to the Colbert Report
My brother’s response was, “Very cool.
  But aren’t those free?”  Yes they are free but do you know what?  I’d like you to go to their website and try to get some right now this very minute.  What?  What!?  Their website shows no available tickets through June of 2010?  Dang.  Guess you’ll have to fight cancer before you get your tickets by entering a raffle held here to be announced later.  Yup.

 
Tickets to All Points West Music & Arts Festival
Listen.
  I’m just saying.  Sit down and think about seeing Beastie Boys, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Tool, My Bloody Valentine, Coldplay, Echo & The Bunnymen, Arctic Monkeys, Nico Case, the Ting Tings, Q-Tip, the Pharcyde, MGMT in addition to about 55 other artists on “an 80-acre historic location with panoramic views of the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island and the Manhattan skyline”.  Did you sit down?  Did you imagine? Did you like?  Ok, well stay tuned for those epic tickets because they’re on their way, ya heard?

 
Appaman Gift Set
Have a cute kid?
  Want your kid to be slightly cuter?  Have an ugly kid?  Want him/her to at least be dripping in style?  I have one word for you: Appaman.  You can win a generous selection of sweet street-cred threads.

 
Lori Nelson
This is my sister, which also makes her Fatty’s sister.
  She also happens to be a hot (as in, “in-demand”)  (ok, let’s face it also as in, “very good looking”) NY artist, with a killer way of turning your child into a work of art.  Win this raffle and you will be awarded an 8 X 10 hand painted oil on canvas portrait of your kid.  I’m still working for ownership of this one she did of Roan.  It may take me a few years, but I will own it one day.  Win yours.  Trust me, you will love it.

 
Segway of The Hudson Valley
You giggle at these things, but secretly really (really really) want to take one out for a spin.  Obviously I’m not too awesome at keeping a secret but this is going to be possibly the funnest prize you could win which would include six of your friends. And two people you don’t know named “Jodi” and “Anson”. 

 
“Shutter Island” Red Carpet Premier Passes (happening now, yo!)
I’ll begin the raffle for one of these prizes on Monday, June 8.
  Until then, the raffle to enter what The Fat Cyclist calls, “simply too unimaginably fabulous for me to comprehend” will continue through the weekend.  That is, joining Michelle Williams at the Red Carpet Premier of “Shutter Island”, directed by Martin Scorsese. The cast includes Leonardo DiCaprio, Mark Ruffalo, Ben Kingsley, and Max Von Sydow, but NOT the Fat Cyclist.  I originally said raffle entries would remain open until June 10, but I really had no idea so many other awesome prizes would come my way.  If for some reason you’re dying to enter but can’t get it together before Sunday night, June 7, midnight EST, email me (link on the sidebar) and I’ll work with you.  Also, I will re-open all of these raffles on the night of June 30, at Layla Jones Pizza here in Brooklyn.  You can enter to win every raffle that night, in person.  (For more info on the “Shutter Island” prize and how to enter, click here).


My Livestrong Challenge Page is here.  Every raffle ticket for every co
ntest will be purchased by clicking and making a donation.  For every $5.00, you will have one virtual raffle ticket generated for you, with all the winners chosen on June 30th. Thanks to everyone that has donated so far to help Team Fatty: Fighting for Susan – the response has been beyond what I’d hoped for.
  WIN Susan.