Alexis and the Great Bra Caper
When I was 12, I stole a maternity bra from J.C. Penney. 12 year olds do weird things. I don’t have an explanation.
Last week was the first time in a quarter century that I stepped back in to a J.C. Penney. I glanced around to see if there were any pictures of my 12 year old self, in the neon pink sunglasses, next to the register. ”Be on the Look Out”.
I was there to meet Alexis and her mom so that whatchagonnado could buy this sweet little girl a party dress for the Miracle Party. Alexis is adorable and opinionated. She had a very clear idea of what she did and did not want to wear, so after 6 stores, (well, 4 stores, 2 of them twice) she decided on the perfect purple dress and the perfect purple purse and the perfect purple ring. She will be a sight for sore eyes. As we looked through racks and racks of dresses, I was clearly aware that this is something I will never do with Tuesday. Still, it felt good to be able to give this memory to another mom.
I made it through the day without crying, without being banished and without the urge to steal a bra. All and all a good day.
Posted 1 year, 8 months ago at 9:56 am. 5 comments
Put a CAP on kids cancer
Calling all schools!
Friday, September 24, 2010.
Help us Put a Cap on kids cancer.
This is how it works:
1. Bring a dollar and a hat to school.
2. Donate your dollar (or more!)
3. Wear your hat in school all day to show that you are fighting back against kids cancer.
See how easy it is to make a difference?
Leave a comment if you would like to add your school to the challenge. You will need the permission of your principal, a teacher or two the morning of the event and a hand full of parents and kids to collect donations.
Kids helping kids. Help them be the change!
Posted 1 year, 8 months ago at 1:36 pm. 17 comments
More bitter than sweet
Piper started her first full day of preschool this morning. By full day, I really mean 2.75 hours. It’s something. It’s a milestone that I have been dreading. Not dreading because she is my youngest, my last to leave the house, but because she is doing it without Tuesday. We laid in her bed and I wept and she sobbed.
I don’t want Tuesday in my heart, I want her in my school. I want Tuesday to come back
I want Tuesday to come back
I feel so fucking inept. All I can say is, I do too. Because I do. It doesn’t matter how totally impossible and irrational it is, I want her back.
Piper is a great kid. A funny, happy, whirlwind of loveliness. Everywhere we go, people ask her where she got her curls, and she always replies, from Tuesday. I’m sure they wonder what the hell that means. She will always be our beautiful, painful reminder and for that I am eternally grateful. And still eternally heartbroken.
But, she is also struggling right now. She cries for her twin daily.
I miss Tuesday.
We draw her a picture and she puts it in a drawer. Sometimes Tuesday thanks her with a rainbow. More often than not, a double.
There is very little useful information on twin loss in childhood, and what there is is subjective and circumspect, because if I’ve learned nothing from this tragic world of child loss, it’s that we all do it and feel it different. Someone else’s take on the matter is just that, their take. I’m finding that I am her expert. It’s a daunting task. The bondshe shares with Spence and Axel runs deep and they are her ultimate protectors.
And they are having their own issues, too, that I’m weeding through. Spencer is burdened with this sense of responsibility to care for all of us and make sure we are safe. He has trouble sleeping and we can’t talk him out of it. He doesn’t want to talk about it all. He’s an amazing empathetic and sensitive soul.
Axel, after almost 6 months of the silent treatment for every and all adult, is starting to blossom. He has our sense of humor and and cracks us up when we least expect it. I worry he will always feel the need to be the one that makes us laugh.
We are a psychologists wet dream, the 5 of us.
The 5 of us.
I still hate that.
It should be the 6 of us
Whitt, party of 6.
But we are healing. Somehow we are better than we were a year ago. And in other ways we are worse. But maybe next year we will be a little better than last.
More sweet than bitter.
Posted 1 year, 8 months ago at 11:14 am. 38 comments
Whatchagonnado?
Without further ado, www.whatchagonnado.org




