JOURNAL NO. 35A
September 1983 - July 1984Age 26
"I'm probably much luckier - and much happier - than I realize."
Wednesday
September 21, 1983Hello, new journal!
There are a number of things I "should" be doing at the moment ... washing last night's dinner dishes, putting a clean sheet on Jamie's crib, catching up on my letter-writing ... but I couldn't resist postponing everything, in order to write in my fat new orange journal! Orange, for autumn -- my favorite season of the year, the "time of beginnings." The other night I felt autumn beginning. Ray and I were grocery shopping, there was a huge yellow moon, and the night was clear and cold. It was exhilarating.
Jamie is playing in her bedroom with Wendie Kitty; Kacie has just gone down for her first nap of the day. The house is a moderate shambles - nothing too serious. I can put it in order in an hour. The only problem is my usual lack of energy. I can never seem to get started until the middle of the afternoon; in the mornings, all I can do is sit here in my chair and drink coffee and watch the soaps. I feel so sluggish.
Things are going to change in my life, though. I can feel it. Something is going to happen to wake me up and make me feel alive again. Maybe it's the approach of autumn that makes me feel this way ... this is usually the best time of year for me. Good things happen in the fall. I get a sense of "starting over." Whatever the reason, though, I know that something good is right around the corner.
Today Kacie is six months old. Half a year! My funny, fuzzy-haired, gentle-natured daughter. What a special addition she's been to our family.
We took the girls to visit my Grandma Vert last weekend. While Jamie played in the kitchen and ran around in the backyard, Kacie laid on a blanket on the living room floor and gurgled happily at everybody. Grandma Vert kept saying to "Grandpa" Ted, "Look at what a good baby she is!" She was so amazed by Kacie's sweet nature. Every time Grandma caught Kacie's eye, they both broke into huge smiles; it was as though there was something unspoken and special between the two of them. I thought it was beautiful: two of the dearest people in my life, getting to know each other. My grandma and my Kacie. At one point Grandma was thinking out loud, trying to decide who Kacie resembles. She was starting to say that Kacie looks like me, but then she stopped suddenly and laughed. "No!" she said to Kacie. "You just had an expression on your face that was the image of your daddy!" Grandma had caught a glimpse of what I call Kacie's "Ray Face." Something about the eyes, the brow and the nose ... that kind of musing, self-absorbed look that Ray gets when he's thinking. Sometimes Kacie looks exactly the same way, although at this point it's unintentional.
5:30 p.m.
Terry Solo has taken both of the girls for a walk in the double stroller ... I am savoring the momentary quiet and solitude. Kacie has been strangely grumpy all day -- I think she's teething, poor little thing -- and my nerves are frazzled. Ray is bowling tonight, but I don't have much interest in going with him this year. I know I'm throwing away a chance to get out of the house one night a week, but I can't help myself. These days I'm practically agoraphobic: leaving the house seems like more trouble than it's worse.
I got a wonderful letter from Dad yesterday. It was unexpected but most welcome. Dad & Valerie had invited me to go camping with them last month, but I had to turn them down. Since then I've been afraid that they were mad at me, but Dad's letter dispelled my fears ... it was long and rambling and funny and full of the familiar "Dad-isms" I know so well.
Thursday morning
September 22, 1983Tired this morning. Marcy B., the wild-eyed alcoholic next door, came pounding on our door at midnight, drunk and hysterical. She said that (her husband) John was beating her, and she wanted me to "hide" her. I gave her my bathrobe, since she was only wearing a pajama top, and I tried to get her to quiet down and sleep on the sofa. Her screaming both woke the girls. Finally, I practically ordered her to "lay down and shut up" ... that's when she went screaming and crying out the door and into the night, still wearing my robe. I locked the door, turned off all the lights and went back to bed.
This isn't the first time this has happened. Several times Marcy has come to our door after a drunken fight with Johnny, and every time it's the same story ... she sobs and swears and says she "hates that s.o.b." ... it's pathetic. At first I was afraid for her, and I honestly thought I was doing the right thing, letting her stay here. After it happened again & again, though, I realized that she was taking advantage of me. But no more. After last night, I've had enough. If she and John can't keep their arguments within their own house, it shouldn't be my problem. From the accounts that (their sons) Rick & Mike have given me, their mother is the one who usually starts the fights (and the one who starts hitting and throwing things), so I think she can hold her own against John. If she was really a battered wife, that would be a different story, but she isn't. She just uses that as an excuse.
Afternoon:
Marcy just came to the door to return my bathrobe. She was sheepish and apologetic and promised that it won't happen again.
I've got terrible cramps. They just started a little while ago. It's been so long since I've had menstrual cramps like this, I'd forgotten what they feel like. OUCH. I took a couple of extra-strength aspirin, and drinking hot coffee seems to help.This is the first autumn in two years that I'm not pregnant! And I find I miss it, in a way.
Friday morning
September 23, 1983Cut my hair yesterday, about four inches all the way around. Some of it isn't completely even, but for the most part it looks nice. I'm getting older now, and the long LONG hair I've worn for thirteen years is no longer as becoming as it used to be. It looks much better short.
Kacie had me up and down all night last night. I think it was because of the full moon ... Gretchen is always more agitated during a full moon, and since she is right outside of Kacie's window, she probably kept waking the baby up. I wish we didn't have a dog. Somehow or another we got stuck with Gretchen last year, and she's been nothing but trouble ever since.
Tomorrow is the annual Western Kraft picnic at Lake Sammamish. I'm actually looking forward to it: it should be fun to get out and spend the day as a family.
Today I have little odds & ends of housework to do. I also want to get a head start on tomorrow; trim Jamie and Kacie's bangs, start packing the diaper bag, do a load of baby laundry and set out their clothes for the picnic. Traveling anywhere with the two of them is always a major undertaking.
Monday morning
September 26, 1983We had a wonderful weekend. (I'll tell you about it a little later.) Right now I'm surveying the disaster area that is my home and plotting how to make it livable again. There are toys, dishes, newspapers, dirty clothes, paper bags, ashtrays, empty beer cans, chicken bones, wet towels and other odds and ends strewn everywhere. Oddly enough, however, today the mess isn't frightening or overwhelming. Some days I look at it and feel like crawling right back into bed. Today, though, I view it as a challenge. I'm certainly not going to be bored today! There's too much to do.
Now I've showered and dressed myself and the girls. I have new stoneware ... a complete set, royal blue and brown. My mother-in-law sent it over to me yesterday. Apparently she bought it for herself but decided she "didn't like" the pattern. I love it. It's in beautiful condition ... hardly a chip or scratch anywhere. Drinking my coffee this morning from one of the wide coffee cups; marveling at my mother-in-law's unexpected thoughtfulness.
Cloudy. Ten minutes ago it was a lovely sunny morning; suddenly there are huge black clouds looming overhead. I wonder if it's going to storm? I think I would enjoy a good wild storm today, while I'm puttering around the house.
The Western Kraft picnic on Saturday was wonderful. We had so much fun. Jamie had the run of the park, and she thoroughly enjoyed herself, dashing around and mingling with the other kids. Kacie was an angel. Most of the time she sat in her stroller or in my arms, observing the goings-on; later in the afternoon she even took a nap. Both the girls got a new stuffed animal - Kacie got a brown teddy bear, Jamie a blue duck. I sat and drank beer with the other wives and talked. (Marcie was there with her new twin daughters, Randi & Sandi).
That night, after we got home from the picnic, Ray took me out for drinks at The Chili Pepper while Terry came over & babysat the girls. It felt terrific to get out, alone with my husband.
Wednesday morning
September 28, 1983Worried about Jamie and Kacie's doctor. We owe him $139, and I'm afraid he's going to ask us to "seek professional care elsewhere," the way Dr. VP did. I couldn't bear it if this happened. Aside from the humiliation, there is Kacie to be considered: she missed her four month DTP, and now her six month is due. Tonight I plan to talk to Ray about it, after he comes home from bowling. If he tries to avoid paying the doctor bill out of tomorrow's paycheck, I'm going to insist. I've been worried sick about this all month, and I must see it resolved before Dr. Bauer cuts us off.
Kacie is so close to crawling. I expect it to happen any minute now. This morning she rolled from her back to her tummy - twice. That means she's gaining greater control of her body. She's strong and she's determined, and as soon as she figures out how to put one hand and one knee in front of the other, she's got it made.
I tried giving her strained peas yesterday and she absolutely refused to eat them. She's not crazy about applesauce, either. Getting her used to solids is proving to be tougher than it was with Jay. She is also having difficulty sleeping through the night - still. Last night she was up at 1 a.m. and again at 4:30 a.m. I'm so used to getting up in the night that it doesn't bother me much anymore, but I still wish that once in a while we could all sleep straight through, without interruption. It would just be such a luxury.
Kacie was an undeniably happy baby
1983
Thursday midnight
September 28, 1983Can't sleep. Ray and the girls are in bed; I'm sitting in the darkness of the living room, watching Joan Rivers and Erma Bombeck on The Tonight Show. It's always so peaceful when everyone is asleep.
I should say that this has been a very good day. I got a lot of things accomplished, and I spent some quality time with the girls: this was a day well spent. My house looks beautiful. I borrowed the neighbor's vacuum cleaner and did every room. There are no toys on the floor, no dirty dishes in the sink ... everything is in its place.
Jamie "helped" me put on my makeup this morning. She also "helped" me take a shower, brush my teeth, set my hair on electric rollers, wash the dishes, vacuum, write a letter to Melinda and make "Mommy-Daddy's bed."
Kacie came a fraction of an inch closer to crawling today.
Saturday 1:30 p.m.
October 1, 1983Sunny but cold: autumn is truly here. I feel really good. An apple pie is baking in the oven, and a load of baby clothes is tumbling in the dryer ... the house smells of apples, cinnamon and Ivory Snow. Ray is still sleeping. He didn't get in until five or so this morning. Jamie and I are listening to music ... she just crawled up onto my lap ... and we're enjoying some special time together. (Funny little pumpkin. Now she's twirling around the living room with her baby doll in her arms, dancing to Billy Idol's "White Wedding" ... red sailor dress, pigtails flying, newly-trimmed bangs.)
Monday 10 a.m.
October 3, 1983Sausages frying. "Benson" on the tube. Neither of the monkeys are awake yet. I have just showered, and now I'm drinking a cup of instant coffee, watching the beginnings of a storm brewing outside. I'll be busy today -- the whole house has to be picked up, several huge loads of laundry must be folded and put away, an apple pie must be baked, dinner must be planned and prepared. I have six letters to write and a handful of clipped recipes to put in my cookbook. I'll watch my soaps, and listen to the stereo later in the afternoon when all my work is done. I've got to keep a close eye on the dog to make sure she doesn't get out of the yard, and we have four baby kittens that I'll bring in and show the girls later today.
Evening
Watching a new TV show I really like -- "Boone," on NBC.
Tuesday 10:30 a.m.
October 4, 1983I didn't get everything done I planned yesterday ... some remains to be done today. Kacie crawled about one inch forward this morning. She moved one knee, and the then the other; but then she tried moving them both at the same time and fell on her nose. Undaunted, she continues practicing. I am impressed by her determination. Babies are such remarkable people.
Thursday 11 a.m.
October 6, 1983Well. How do I begin writing about this? Ray is in jail. His bail has been set at $518, and since no one appears to have that much cash laying around, he may be in jail for some time. I'm in a total fog this morning. I'm going through the motions -- doing a laundry, washing dishes, taking care of the girls -- but inside, my heart aches for Ray.
Here's what happened. Ray went bowling last night, but as usual I stayed home with the girls. About 9:30 I began watching out the window for Ray to come home. I'd made us a late supper of franks and beans, but I was waiting for him to come home before I ate. At 9:40 I suddenly heard a police siren, just up the street from our house. I remember the exact time because somehow I just knew it was Ray being pulled over, and I checked the clock for a point of reference. I just felt it in my heart ... and as it turned out, I was right! Ten minutes later there was a Kirkland police officer knocking on my door. He was very curt: he said that he'd pulled my husband over, and when they checked they discovered $518 worth of outstanding tickets/warrants on him. One was an old trespassing charge, from 1981 when Smokey ran into the Pierce's yard; the other was a shoplifting charge from last December (when he stole the Christmas tree stand from the hardware store). Ray had told me both charges were cleared up, but I can't say I was surprised when I found out otherwise. Ray likes to sweep things under the carpet and pretend they don't exist. Anyway, they were preparing to haul him off to jail, and they wanted me to go up the road and "take possession" of the car. The cop gave me a lift up the road to where the Impala was parked, and I drove it home. Ray was in the back of a second police car parked at the scene, but I wasn't allowed to speak to him and it was too dark to see his face. They took him away and I came home.
At first I thought I should stay awake in case he came home, but soon I realized it was hopeless and I went to bed. I had a restless, awful night with very little sleep. The girls were unnaturally restless, too ... every hour or so they would both wake up crying.
When I woke up this morning I felt two ways. At first I was desolate and lonely for Ray. Then, I realized that it was important for me to present a normal face to the girls: in spite of everything, I've got to carry on as usual.
My mother-in-law was here an hour ago. Ray called his folks in the middle of the night, but they didn't have the cash to bail him out. Peg went down to the police station this morning to check on Ray's status, and we found out that he goes in for arraignment this afternoon at 1:30. At that time, the judge might reduce his bail; if so, Peg says she'll bring him home. If bail remains at $518, though, he may be in jail for a long time. I'm afraid to even think about that. His job will be in jeopardy, and without his job to support us, the future looks exceedingly grim.
From Peg's cool and detached demeanor, I can tell we've set relations with the in-laws back a mile. I hugged her when she first came to the door, and I could actually feel her pull away from me. I know what she's thinking: "Damned irresponsible kids, probably spent all their money on drugs."
I don't know what's going to happen. What a mess. On the one hand I keep asking myself, "Why did I marry such an irresponsible man?" On the other hand, I married him for better or for worse, and I've got to stick by him, no matter what. He must be feeling like hell. I keep thinking about him sitting down there in that stupid jail, and my heart hurts for him. He's basically such a decent person, but nothing ever seems to go right for him. He wants to be responsible, but he can't get ahead. Something always happens to set him back. At any rate, the last thing in the world he needs right now is for me to turn against him. Deep down inside, I'm probably furious with him, but I'm going to be supportive and gentle and understanding (even if it kills me) ...
I've got the car, and I've got about eleven dollars, so if we run out of formula or milk I can drive to the store. The house is well-stocked with groceries. I've got understanding neighbors surrounding me; if it turns out I'm home alone again tonight, I'll turn to them. It would be a lot worse if I was sitting here broke and carless. I don't have to feel hopeless ... for the time being, anyhow. There's plenty of time for that later.
Peg was going back down to the jail so I gave her Ray's toothbrush, a clean pair of socks and a shirt and a hastily scribbled note offering love and support. She'll be coming back later this afternoon to let me know what's happening. Until then, all I can do is wait.
Oh Ray ... why do these things keep happening? When will we climb out of the hole?
Friday morning
October 7, 1983He's out of jail. Peg and I managed to get him out last night. I'll tell you how it happened in awhile ... right now I've gotta have some coffee.
Saturday 10:30 a.m.
October 8, 1983A day's distance from our "ordeal" makes it easier to write about. Yesterday I was still upset: today life seems to be back to normal.
At Ray's arraignment on Thursday, the judge lowered his bail to $232.68. Peg came back to the house to let me know the exact amount. Since she seemed to have no intention of bailing him out (no doubt per Don Sr.'s instructions), I knew it was up to me. I ended up hopping in the car and driving down to Grandma St. John's. She wrote me a check to cover Ray's bail, and she seemed glad to help us out. Unfortunately, when I got back to the Kirkland Police Dept. (around 7 p.m.) they wouldn't accept Grandma's check! The check writer had to be there in person to present I.D. I burst into tears at this news. I didn't know what else to do, so I called the in-laws. Don Sr. refused to come get Ray out of jail, and I cried even harder. I felt so foolish, sitting there in the police station bawling like a baby, but by that point I was frazzled and lonely for Ray and desperate to get him out of that awful place ... I just came unglued. Apparently Don changed his mind, because about 45 minutes later Peg came whistling through the door. She said to the officer behind the desk, "I've come to get my son out of hock." I signed over Grandma's check to Peg, and she wrote a new one for bail.
When Ray finally walked into the lobby, I started crying again ... I was so unbelievably glad to see him! He gave me a gigantic hug, and we both thanked Peg profusely for getting him out. Then we came home. I had left Terry with the girls all afternoon and evening, and when we got home she had them both bathed and in their pajamas, plus she'd cleaned the entire house as well. So it was a pleasant sight waiting for us when we walked through the door. Jamie launched herself into Ray's arms, yelling "Da-da! Da-da!" at the top of her lungs. I reheated the Wednesday night franks & beans, and he showered and ate and played with his daughters and said over and over how glad he was to be home ...
Yesterday he got a ride to work with a friend, so I could have the car. I packed up the girls in the afternoon and we drove down to Totem Lake, where I stopped in at the doctor's office to talk about our overdue account. This jail business has really set us back financially, and I know it'll be awhile now before we can pay the doctor bill. I explained this to them, and I think they'll let us have some more time. After that I took the girls to the park. Jamie played on the swings and in the sandbox, while I pushed Kacie around in the stroller. We had a nice time.
Mike Paynter brought Ray home around 9:30 last night, after I'd already gone to bed. The first thing Ray did was get Jamie out of her crib: I could hear her running around and chattering, so I got up to investigate. He said, "I just wanted to see Jamie for awhile," so I let it pass. I sat on the living room floor with him and we talked for about half an hour. He was in a happy/weepy frame of mind: he said that his 24 hrs. in jail had made him stop and think. "I love you and Jamie and Kacie more than anything," he said, and there were tears in his eyes. "From now on, things will be different. I'm not getting into any more trouble."
Afternoon:
Spending the day with Ray and the girls. He has been watching sports on TV all afternoon, and has now gone to the store for milk and formula and to pick up my pictures from the drugstore. There is more warmth and unity in this house today than I've ever felt before. Even Jamie and Kacie sense it. Ray's renewed appreciation of his family is the basis of this good feeling. He's been playing with the girls, giving me unexpected hugs and kisses, cracking jokes, clowning around ... he seems like a different person altogether.
Wednesday noon
October 12, 1983Jamie is wandering around the house, looking for a missing black kitten. ("Dee? ... dee? ... dee?") Kacie is napping. The two of them woke up before I did this morning. I was dreaming that I was working at Ridgway Packaging, and that I was married to Howard Hesseman (??) when the girls, cooing and chattering in their cribs, woke me up. I layed there in bed for awhile, just listening to them.
Foggy morning. As always, I've spent these early hours drinking coffee, reading the paper, watching the early morning soaps. The tree across the street has its first sprinkling of gold autumn leaves; I've taped some Hallowe'en decorations to the windows.
Now Jamie is snuggled up next to me here in the armchair, drinking her bottle and clutching her Liddle Diddle. I had to bathe her first thing this morning; last night she was rubbing 7-Up into her hair, and today it was sticky and matted. She still hates having her hair shampooed, but I did it fast and then let her play in the tub with her toys. Now her hair is soft and clean and smells like baby shampoo. She has the prettiest hair, with just a trace of curl on the ends.
(Donna Pescow on "AMC"? In a teensy tiny role. I BET SHE'S GONNA BE A LESBIAN!! Yep. She is.)
The garbage truck is lumbering up the street; Jamie has flown to the window, watching for it to come to our house. "GA! GA!" she announces.
Evening
Scene played out todayI have just finished changing Jamie's diaper, and now I've started changing Kacie. Jamie lays on the floor next to Kacie, waving her legs around in the air and watching me tend the baby. Suddenly she starts pulling at her plastic pants. "Pot-pot?" she says, hopefully. She wants to go sit on her potty chair. So far that's all she does - she just sits on it. "Not right now, Jamie," I tell her. "I just changed you."
She becomes insistent. "POT-POT!" she says. She tugs harder at her diaper. "POT-POT."
"I'm changing Sister!" I snap at her in exasperation. It's been a long day. Jamie sits up and shoots Kacie a murderous look. Then, quicker than a blink, she picks up a little metal spaceship toy and throws it at her little sister, hitting her squarely on the head. Thunk. For one long moment the three of us are frozen. Then Kacie's little face crumples up and she howls in pain and surprise. Jamie sits there and looks at me, fearfully.
I want to scream but I don't. It takes every ounce of willpower I have. "Go to your room!" I say, picking up the crying baby and glaring at Jamie. Jamie blinks, swallows hard, looks at me to see if I mean it. I do. My face is closed and hard. She grabs her Liddle Diddle and runs out of the living room; halfway down the hallway I hear her begin to sob. Her bedroom door slams shut.
I sit on the floor with Kacie in my arms and I feel like crying myself. I know I handled the situation badly. Kacie's sobs gradually lessen; she wasn't really hurt, just surprised. I kiss her hot damp face and rock her gently until she's calm.
Two minutes later, Jamie is peering around the corner, holding Kacie's shoes. "Shoes!" she says, in a bid for my attention. I don't reply; I'm still trying to figure out how to handle this. Do I let her off the hook? She comes back, this time with one of my barrettes in her hand. "Bar?" she says, sweetly, hopefully. This time I accept the peace offering and thank her. She beams, chuckles, dashes into my arms. All is forgiven. I pick her up in my arms and she presses her face against my shoulder, hard, seeking reassurance. "I love you, Punkin," I tell her. "But you can't throw things at Sister. OK?"
She scampers down from my arms and looks at Kacie, laying there on the blanket. "Why don't you give Sister a kiss and tell her you're sorry?" I suggest gently. This could prove to be a real Kodak moment after all ...
"NOOOO-OOOOO!" Jamie shouts merrily, running once again down the hallway. So much for warm and fuzzy sibling moments.
October 13, 1983
Scene from early this morningIt is 4:40 a.m., and Ray is frantically running around the house searching for his car keys. I have gotten out of bed to fix a pre-dawn bottle for Kacie, and I stand, nightgowned and sleepy, and watch Ray tear through cupboards and slam drawers open and shut.
"Jamie took my keys!" he says, near panic.
He has forgotten this important rule: to find something Jamie has hidden, you have to stop and make yourself think the way she does. I glance around the kitchen. Her little pink toddler car is "parked" next to the kitchen table.
Car = keys.
I calmly walk over to the little car, lift up the lid, and fish out Ray's keys.
I'm either becoming very very smart, or else I'm regressing ... I'm not sure which.
Monday evening
October 17, 1983Waiting for Ray to come home. For some reason our water was shut off this afternoon without notice, and I want him to do something about it. It's hard to take care of two little ones without running water.
Jamie spoke one of her first complete sentences this morning: she said, "I found a cookie." The cookie looked about a hundred years old -- she probably found it under a sofa cushion -- but I was so excited about her putting the words together that I didn't care. Later in the day she also said, "I found Ga!" "Ga" is her word for "treasure box," one of her favorite toys.
Jamie's favorite commercials:
1. The new Sears commercials ("There's more for your life at Sears!") because Winnie The Pooh is usually in them.
2. The Tab commercial that goes "Tab! What a beautiful drink! Tab! For beautiful people!" She runs around the living room holding an imaginary can of pop.
3. Any commercial with the Pillsbury Dough Boy; she giggles every time he giggles.
4. The Murphy's Oil Soap commercial. Every time this one comes on, she runs to the end table and climbs on top of it, legs dangling over the edge, like the little boy in the commercial.
5. Sure Antiperspirant ("Raise your hand -- you've got it! Raise your hand -- you know it!") Jamie runs around the living room with her arms in the air.
October 22, 1983
Saturday afternoonA gorgeous, pre-storm autumn afternoon. The sky is coal-black, the trees are brilliantly gold and scarlet: the contrast is startling and beautiful.
On Wednesday (the 19th), Kacie sat up by herself. I wasn't helping her a bit. She was laying on her tummy when she suddenly maneuvered herself onto her rear and sat up, supporting herself with one arm. She has been crawling (sort of), all week ... a funny, salamander-like loping movement, using her arms to pull herself along. She uses her legs occasionally, but so far she mostly relies on her arms to propel herself.
Anxiously waiting for my period, due on Thursday but now two days late.
Monday morning
October 24, 1983The pleasure I usually feel in October is being spoiled this year by a handful of nagging worries ... the $132 we owe Grandma St. John (for bailing Ray out of jail) ... the $139 we still owe the girls' doctor ... why hasn't my period started yet? I am stewing about these things constantly. I've only been out of bed for ten minutes and already my stomach is tied in knots. I worry so much. Half the time my worries prove to be needless, but even knowing that doesn't help. Problems grind away from me, from the moment I get out of bed in the morning until I'm laying awake at 2 a.m., trying to clear my mind and fall asleep.
Went to the in-laws' yesterday for Jeff's birthday dinner. Peg made her awful, greasy "spagitti," but aside from that it was a pleasant visit. Jamie had a ball, tearing around the house with her little cousin Billy. Kacie was passed around from relative to relative, and she was in a generally agreeable mood. Judy was there with little Nathan -- he gave his Aunt Terri a great big smile! I held him for a little while, but then he started to cry so I handed him right back to his Mama. Sheryl is enormously pregnant; her baby is due any time. Family speculation has it that she'll have a girl. I'm still hoping she'll have a boy, for the somewhat selfish reason that I'd like to have the only girls in the family.
The Seattle Times
10/24/83" ... Much the same criticism could be leveled at NBC's "The Haunting Passion," the new TV movie at 9 tonight on Channel 5. Viewers eager to embrace a ghost movie may find "Passion" to their liking, but this ghost story is neither intriguing not has director John Korty been able to make it scary. The setting is Vancouver, B.C., and lovely Jane Seymour plays the painter/wife of Gerald McRaney, an ex-jock now trying for a career as a TV sportscaster. They move into a splendid house on the beach, and in no time Seymour is being erotically possessed by a ghost. Once the novelty of that idea wears off, however, the film doesn't seem to know where to go. It is far less compelling or thrilling than, say, "Poltergeist," or even Seymour's earlier film, "Somewhere In Time."
I disagree! This was one of the most fabulous movies I've ever seen on TV ... I loved it! It was scary and romantic and involving, and the special effects were exciting ... I literally couldn't tear myself away. (It was on again, July 20, 1984.)
Tuesday noon
October 25, 1983The worrying has let up a bit today: I'm simply blocking the problems out.
U.S. forces have taken the island of Grenada this morning. I don't understand much of what is happening, but all regular morning TV is being pre-empted for special news reports on the situation, and I'm trying to sort it all out.
Two months until Christmas. Where will the money come from this year? So many little people to shop for this year ... Jamie, Kacie, Billy, Nathan, Gerald, Kelli, Ben, Sheryl's baby-to-be ...
Wednesday morning, just out of bed
October 26, 1983Well, there's ONE problem down ... my period started, early this morning. I've got paralyzing cramps again, but at least there won't be any babies born next July. I'm so relieved. I know it's only a matter of time before I get pregnant again, but I'm hoping we can avoid it for another year, at least. I'm looking forward to one more pregnancy, but since I know it will probably be the last one, I don't want to plunge into it too soon. I want to anticipate it awhile longer.
Ray gets paid tomorrow, and I'm hoping we can give some money to Grandma St. John and to Dr. Bauer. That would go a long way towards alleviating some of the pressure I've been under.
I just woke up from an odd & disturbing dream about my mother in law. She came over when the house wasn't picked up and the laundry wasn't done, and she was criticizing me for it. I tried joking with her but she wasn't having any of that, so I started telling her off. I don't remember what we were saying to each other, but I know it was pretty nasty.
I had another weird dream last night, that practically had me in tears. I dreamed that our neighbors, the Solos and the Bruffs, decided to move at the same time. I was devastated. I cried to Ray, "They're the only friends I have! Now I'll be all alone!" In reality I think I'd be a little sad if they moved, but certainly not as crushed as I seemed to be in the dream. How odd. I wonder what I was trying to tell myself?
Evening
I am really suffering tonight. This is the most painful and uncomfortable period I've had in years. One minute I'm flushed and sweaty, the next minute I'm chilled and shivering. I'm bleeding unusually heavily, and the cramps are grinding. I've taken some extra strong aspirin and I'm sipping a glass of wine, but nothing much seems to help.
Ray is bowling. Jamie and Wendie Kitty are off together somewhere, playing. A very cranky and noisy Kacie is rolling around on the floor at my feet.
I got really angry with Jamie today ... she got into my box of sanitary napkins and tried flushing a handful of them down the toilet. Eeeuuw.
Some frequent Jamie-isms:
"Pfeeee" Please
"Kuh. Mom-ma." Thank you, Mama
"Moh? Moh?" More
"Fye, six!" Five, six
"Faw!" Kermit the Frog
"Bah!" Benson
Friday morning
October 28, 1983Kacie got me out of bed earlier than usual this morning -- 8:30. I was having a pleasant little dream (Brad Vernon, "One Life To Live") and didn't feel like getting up, but she was insistent. When I went into her bedroom I found her, soaking wet and completely tangled up in crib blankets. She was on her hands and knees, rocking back and forth and grinning toothlessly at me. I got her dressed and brought her out to the living room; she played with the new Squeeze Buddies her Daddy brought home for her last night (a squeaky rubber wrench and a toy stalk of celery), while I made my coffee and chugged down two hasty mugsful. Now Kacie has gone back to bed and Jamie is up; she is full of beans this morning! Already today I've caught her pushing a kitchen chair over to the counter (trying to reach the candy bars), and she's turned the living room into a shambles.
What am I going to do with myself today? The day stretches out before me ... housework, laundry, babies, coffee, soap operas. If Ray stays out all night again, like he did last Friday night, the day stretches out even further. This is all vaguely depressing today, for some reason. I'm not sure why. Maybe I'm just tired. I need some kind of lift ... something special & fun to do, to pick me up and give this day some quality.
Evening 8 p.m.
Wish Ray would come home. Jay is in a horrible mood, and Kacie refuses to go to bed. I'd love a cold beer and a little adult conversation. In desperation, I have plopped both girls into their cribs with bottles.
10 p.m. ...
... and still no Ray. My stomach is tied into one big knot. I KNOW that he's going to stay out drinking all night again, and I'm already mad as hell at him.
Sentence Jay said tonight: "More please Mama."
Sunday
October 30, 1983Ray had a severe asthma attack last night, and I had to call the paramedics for help. They took him to the hospital because he literally couldn't breathe. I stayed at home with the girls and Terry, and later in the evening when Ray was released, Bud B. drove me to the hospital to pick him up. Ray was fine but shaken. The whole thing happened so quickly. One minute we were sitting at Dave's Place having a beer, and the next minute he was hunched over the steering wheel, gasping for breath. I've never seen him have an attack, and it was quite frightening. Seeing him being carried out of the house on a stretcher gave me such a hollow, helpless feeling.
I'm continuing this on Monday, Hallowe'en morning. We're still not sure what brought on Ray's attack. The doctor at the hospital said it might have been brought on by stress. He has been under a lot of pressure, especially financially.
November 1, 1983I took Jamie out trick or treating last night for the first time. It was an evening I'll never forget, not if I live to be a hundred.
I couldn't find a store-bought costume that fit her and would look appropriately cute and feminine - all the costumes at Sears and Fred Meyer were Darth Vader, Yoda and E.T. Trendy but ugly. Finally I put together a makeshift costume for her out of stuff we had around the house. She wore her striped Osh Kosh overalls, tied a red bandanna around her neck, put her hair into two pigtails tied with red yarn, and her red tennis shoes on her feet. Then I used my makeup to paint her cheeks and nose bright red, and a black eyeliner pencil to dot some big fake freckles on her cheeks. She was a hobo! It was adorable.
Ray has a cold, so he stayed home with Kacie and watched Monday Night Football while Jay and I made the rounds of the neighborhood. Jamie was excited and curious. How odd it must have seemed to her, walking around knocking on doors at night. We went to ten or twelve different places, mostly neighbors that we know and a few that we don't. She got the hang of it right away, though, and pretty soon she was dragging me by the hand, pointing out "more houses," urging me to hurry up ...
People seemed to love Jamie. They would open the door, probably expecting big trick or treaters, and when they saw my tiny daughter standing there, they gasped in surprise. She was given HUGE handsful of candy at every house; she also got stickers and McDonalds coupons and animal crackers.
When we were cold and tired, we walked back up the street to our own house and knocked on the door. Ray pretended to be really surprised to see Jamie standing at his door, which practically sent her into convulsions ... she thought that was SO funny.
This morning - cold and rainy, the first day of November - I have the beginnings of a sore throat and very little energy. I've obviously picked up Ray's bug, so I think I'll just take it real easy today.
Noon
Now it's dark and storming. Kacie is just down for her nap; Jamie is laying on the floor with her blanket and a bottle. She's a little cranky today ... I guess that last night's excitement tuckered her out.
Next year will I be escorting two little trick or treaters?
Wednesday 10 a.m.
November 3, 1983Feeling even worse today. This is a really NASTY cold I've come down with. The worst part is my stuffy head and grinding headache. Drinking orange juice, keeping the thermostat cranked up and taking aspirin is about all I can do to combat it.
Thursday 10 a.m. again
November 3, 1983Yesterday Kacie began crawling in earnest, using both hands and both knees, and maneuvered herself all over the house for the very first time! First she crawled the length of the living room; then she explored the kitchen; and finally she went down the hallway and into all the bedrooms. Her crawl is still verrry slow and deliberate, with lots of starts and stops, but she has definitely mastered the basic principle. She aims for something and goes right for it. Her main objective, at this point, seems to be following Jamie around. Jamie runs down the hallway to her bedroom, and Kacie begins a plodding crawl, right behind her. Of course it's impossible for her to catch up with Jamie, but she tries. She wants to do the same things she sees her big sister doing. Now that she's mobile, she'll be trying even harder.
Jamie thinks Kacie's crawling is funny. She is slightly less amused when Kacie crawls over and grabs one of Jay's toy, or -- God forbid -- Jay's ba-ba. Then she'll say "NO!" and yank it away from Kacie, irritated. But when Kacie is simply crawling, without trying to horn in on Jamie, Jamie thinks it's pretty funny. She giggles at the goofy way her baby sister plod, plod, plods across the room.
Friday morning
November 4, 1983I'm going out tonight!! I think. I have a date with my husband! He offered to come home at 6 tonight and take me out for a few drinks at The Chili Pepper and Dave's Place. The only trouble is I don't know if Terry can babysit. I'll have to ask her when she gets home from school. I HOPE she can: it's so rare for Ray to extend an invitation like this.
Monday morning
November 7, 1983What a wonderful weekend! Ray and I did go out on Friday night for a few beers. On Saturday night he took me to the movies (we saw "The Dead Zone"). And yesterday afternoon we took Jamie and Kacie down to Dave's Place. So we spent virtually every moment together, all weekend long, and it was so nice! I felt closer to Ray than I have in a long time. Just doing things together -- alone, and with the girls -- talking, getting out of the house for a while every day -- it made me feel special and alive. Like I was "dating" again!
Reheating last night's steak for lunch for Jamie and me. Kacie has just gone down for a nap. The house looks terrible but it'll be afternoon before I get around to doing any housework. The worries are still here, but at least I had a brief reprieve from them this weekend.
Thursday morning
November 10, 1983Sheryl had her baby last night -- a little girl named Tanya.
Wednesday 9:30 a.m.
November 16, 1983Nearly a week later. Kacie pulled herself up to a standing position yesterday ... much to my surprise, I might add! I wasn't expecting her to stand so soon. Jamie was sitting on the sofa, and Kacie crawled over, grabbed the edge of the couch and very neatly & easily stood herself up! Exactly the same scenario is being played out at this moment: Jamie is calmly drinking her apple juice, seated Indian-style on the sofa; Kacie is standing at the edge, peering longingly at Jamie's cup. (Now Jamie has hopped off the couch and dashed away, leaving Kacie to stand there alone, howling. Kacie's major problem at the moment is that she doesn't know how to get back DOWN, once she gets up!
Amazingly, I actually had film in the camera
the first time that Kacie stood up by herself
November 15, 1983
I was so thrilled with this latest development yesterday that I decided to try something new ... I put both of the girls in the bathtub together, for the first time. Jamie ADORES her bath, but Kacie was slightly less enthusiastic. When I lowered her into the tub and her little bottom hit that warm water, she whimpered nervously and threatened to burst into tears. After a couple of minutes, though, they were both splashing and playing happily. It reminded me of the baths I used to give Brandy & Missy a few years ago. I remember I used to bathe Scott's little blonde daughters and wonder if I would ever have any little girls of my own. That's why it gave me a special satisfaction to watch my two beautiful, brown-haired daughters sharing their first tub together ... another small victory in the war against memories.
Kacie's first tub bath
I should mention last weekend: it was amazingly identical to the weekend before. Ray and I went out for drinks on Friday night; on Saturday night we went to the movies (we saw "Risky Business" with Tom Cruise and Rebecca DeMornay); on Sunday we took the girls to Dave's Place; and on Sunday evening Ray and I went grocery shopping while Terry watched the girls. Ray's friend & co-worker, Mike Paynter, was at Dave's on Friday night. Of all Ray's friends, I think he's my favorite. He's great fun to talk to, and I feel very close to him.
It will be another week or so until I need to begin worrying in earnest about being pregnant, so I've put it out of my mind until then. My period will be due on Wednesday or Thursday.
MINIMUM AMOUNT I EXPECT OUT OF MYSELF TODAY
(Tired, run-down):1. Change sheets on our bed
2. Cribs made up
3. Dishes washed
4. Baby clothes folded
5. Tape "99 Red Balloons" and/or "King of Pain"
IF I FEEL LIKE IT:
6. Small amount of makeup
Friday 6 p.m.
November 18, 1983The question of the hour: will Jamie P. like pickled beets?
The answer of the hour: an unequivocal NOOOO WAY !!!!!!
Tuesday noon
November 22, 1983
JFK assassinated 20 yrs. ago todayOdds and ends of the life:
* Kacie is getting very good at standing up now, although she still has to hold onto the furniture with both hands. She has also learned how to get back down (finally), by plopping onto her bottom.
* Jamie's favorite game now is pushing a kitchen chair over the kitchen sink and "helping" me wash the dishes. She calls this game "Sink." She also pushes the chair over to the edges of the counters and investigates whatever is on them. Last weekend she found a jar of coffee this way, and dumped most of it onto the floor.
* Watched "The Day After" on Sunday night -- the highly publicized and controversial TV movie about nuclear war. Parts of it were really graphic and gruesome. I watched with tears in my eyes a lot of the time; even Ray was moved. I was haunted by "The Day After" for YEARS afterward.
Wednesday 10 a.m.
November 23, 1983Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and for the second year in a row we'll be spending it at Mom's. I think (Ray's parents) are miffed, but both Ray and I agreed that it would be more pleasant spending the day with my side of the family than with his. Who needs all the tension? Particularly on Thanksgiving. Sunday is Judy's birthday dinner at the in-laws, anyway, so we'll be seeing everybody then. I expect I'll get the Cold Shoulder for having missed Thanksgiving -- not to mention little Tanya's "debut" -- but we'll tough it out.
Monday 11:30 a.m.
November 28, 1983The girls and I didn't get out of bed this morning until 11:00 ... I think that's the record, so far. The girls are worn out from a very busy weekend. Ray has gone back to work after a four-day Thanksgiving vacation, and frankly I'm not crushed to see him go: he was moody and remote all weekend. When he wasn't out "running errands" (his euphemism for drinking beer at the tavern) or sleeping until the middle of the afternoon, he was glued to the tube, watching football and basketball. Attempts to engage him in conversation were largely pointless. Today, at least, I've got my house back. I have about ten huge loads of laundry to do, and a sinkful of dirty dishes. My day has gotten off to such a late start, though, that even though it's nearly noon I just can't seem to get my motor started. I'm just now finishing my first cup of coffee. So much happened this weekend that I want to talk about, that I guess the laundry and the housework will just have to wait until I've gotten a good "write" out of my system.
First of all -- Thanksgiving. We went to Mom's, as planned, and it turned out she wasn't even expecting us! That was a little disconcerting. I'd been looking forward to this warm, wonderful holiday dinner with my family, and parts of it was like that ... but other parts of it weren't. Tensions seemed to be running unusually high. Of course I may have been imagining it, but I don't think so. I left Mom's feeling oddly disappointed. The dinner was lovely, and it was great to see my brother and his new girlfriend, Gina. Jamie had a ball playing with Kelli and Ben and with Gina's daughter, Alexis (age 18 mos.), but Kacie was disturbed by all the unfamiliar faces, and she howled in fright unless I held her. The whole afternoon was a weird mixture of highs and lows.
Thanksgiving 1983 at Grandma Beeson's house
L-to-R: Jamie (sitting on Aunt Jody's lap), Grandma St. John, Kacie, me, Ray (top of head only),
my brother Richard, my niece Karen
I didn't see much of Ray on Friday. He slept until 2 p.m., and then he left the house almost immediately. I was tired and a little depressed anyway, so I didn't mind. I knew he was running his football cards. He came home around 10:30 with a bag of Chinese food for dinner.
On Saturday I left Kacie at home with Ray, and I took Jamie shopping in Bellevue. Ray gave me $100 and I did some early Christmas shopping ... toys for Jay & Kacie, Benjamin, Billy, Nathan, Tanya and Alexis. I also bought Jamie a pair of shoes, a baby gift for Tanya and a birthday gift for Judy. (Jay: size 7 shoes.)
Originally I was hoping to go out on Saturday night, but we were low on money and ended up staying home. We reheated the leftover Chinese food for supper, and I baked my first from-scratch pumpkin pie, as a treat. Ray konked out early, but I layed in bed watching "Saturday Night Live" and reading until late.
Yesterday - Sunday - was a horrible day. We had to go to the in-laws' for Judy's birthday dinner, and the in-laws were just as chilly and distant as I knew they would be. They're not about to let us off the hook for missing Thanksgiving. Judy was warm and friendly, but everyone else was made of stone.
I was informed in a very casual, offhand manner that the in-laws are going to Arizona for Christmas (Jeff, Sheryl & Tanya also). So they'll be celebrating on Christmas Eve, and we are EXPECTED TO BE THERE. Period. This completely screws up our holiday plans, and I am in despair. I don't feel like going into it any further right now -- maybe later.
Evening:
While Peg was telling me about the revised Christmas plans (in a tone of voice that clearly said "Be there - or else"), I slipped into a panic. I started to explain to her about our family's Christmas Eve traditions, and she suddenly became very cold.
HEY! I've got a brilliant idea. Why not invite Dad & Valerie here for dinner on Christmas Day??
Wednesday 10 a.m.
November 30, 1983Yes ... the more I think about it, the better my idea sounds. We'll invite Dad & Valerie to our house for Christmas dinner, for a change. That way everyone will get to visit with the girls, and we don't have to do a lot of driving two days in a row. I doubt the girls could handle two full days of traveling ... I know that Ray couldn't! We'll go to Peg and Don's on Christmas Eve around noon ... spend the afternoon with them, eat dinner, open presents ... and then we'll leave for Grandma St. John's around 4:30 or 5:00. We'll spend the rest of the evening, as is customary, with Gram and Mom and all the family on my side. On Christmas morning we'll wake up in our own little house -- we won't have to pile into the frozen car at 7 a.m. and drive to the in-laws, for the first time in THREE YEARS. Ray can sleep late. The girls can empty their stockings and play with the toys they got the night before; I'll make breakfast and play Christmas music on the stereo. We'll drink champagne & orange juice, and eat scrambled eggs with bacon and avocados. Later in the afternoon, Dad and Valerie will arrive. We'll open the last of our presents, and Ray will fix dinner. I don't know about turkey ... maybe ham. Dinner will be around the table, with both of the girls joining us. After dinner has been eaten and Dad and Valerie have gone home, the evening will be ours, to relax and be alone as a family. (Note: This is pretty much the way it turned out.)
It all sounds a bit idyllic, I realize, but when I dream, I dream big. There are still a few flaws in my plan, though. When do we see Grandma Vert? When will the girls nap on Christmas Eve? I have to iron out a few details, but on the whole I'm feeling optimistic.
Yesterday I brought out the holiday decorations. Normally I wait until the first day of December, but I needed a lift yesterday.
Thursday early morning
December 1, 1983For a change, Jamie woke up first this morning. She's been sick the past few days -- the flu, I think -- but today she seems to have bounced back.
I sure wish I could say the same for myself. I've had this rotten cold, on and off, for a month now. My period started last night, too (whew!), so between the cramps and the sniffles, I'm really a mess. At least I'm not pregnant, though. I haven't mentioned this in awhile, but I was positive I was. The same old story. Zzzz.
December is here, and I'm feeling decidedly more Christmasey than I was a couple of days ago. There are little touches of "Christmas" all over the house, and my head is buzzing with plans.
Kacie's first Christmas! I wonder what she'll think of the Christmas tree?
Friday morning
December 2, 1983Bleak, icy winter morning ... snow mixed with Ray. (Whoa: I can't believe I just wrote that!! I mean snow mixed with RAIN. Yikes! I'd better get some coffee in me, fast.) My cold is worse. I'm completely stuffed up, and my throat is painfully raw. Why in the world have I been sick so much this year? Bronchitis last July, one cold right after another ... I don't seem to have any resistance at all.
Ray isn't going to be home until very late tonight, so the day stretches out long before me. Not unhappy about it, though ... there is plenty to keep me busy.
Jamie and Michele (one of the littlest neighbor girls) have just gone back into Jay's bedroom to play, and Kacie has begun her slow, plodding crawl in pursuit of them. I hear them laughing. Jamie is delighted with Michele -- she follows her around all over the house, touching her, trying to hug her, chattering at her in "Jame-ese." Kacie watches the "big girls" in awe, and I can tell she wants to be doing the same things they're doing.
Now the three of them are milling around in the living room. I sit here and watch them, fantasizing for a moment that all three of them are mine ... wondering what it would be like (what it WILL be like?) to have three little ones. The spacing of ages is about right. Michele is four; Jamie will be two in a week; Kacie is eight and a half months. It's conceivable (no pun intended) that if Ray and I continue on our present Russian Roulette course of birth control, there could be another little brown head around here in the next year or so. I feel as though it's my unavoidable destiny.
Reading two books. "No Man In Eden," by H.L. Myra, and "How To Parent" by Dr. Fitzhugh Dodson. The combination of the two is interesting. One is giving me hope about life in general; one is giving me hope about myself as a parent.
Monday morning
December 5, 1983It's snowing again, and this time it's more snow than rain ... big fat wet flakes, falling straight down. I doubt that it'll stick, but it certainly is pretty to watch. My Christmas spirit just rose a notch or two.
The house is in complete disarray. There is a chance my water may be shut off this morning because of an unpaid utility bill - that would make housecleaning a decidedly uphill battle.
Still dragging around with a cold. Now I've developed a hacking cough, which kept me awake most of last night.
Yesterday we went to Sheryl & Jeff's for Don Sr.'s birthday dinner. As family dinners go, it was better than most -- the guys sat downstairs watching football and playing video games, the women stayed upstairs and talked babies. I had a chance to see little Tanya up close. I saw her last week at Judy's birthday dinner, but I didn't really get to spend any time with her until yesterday. She is very pretty, with huge black eyes and fuzzy brown hair: I was surprised by how lovely she is.
Jamie played happily with Billy all afternoon. Those two are inseparable when they get together. Kacie wasn't so readily entertained, however. She's at that in-between stage -- she can't walk yet, but she wants to stand up and move around all the time. More than once she bonked her little head, HARD, on Sheryl's coffee table. Her grandpa would hold her for a little while, until she started to wiggle, and then he would pass her over to me. She would sit with me for five minutes and then she'd start to squirm again, so it was back to Grandpa. Back and forth, back and forth. All things considered, she was really pretty good. She was a little fussy towards the end of the get-together, but that was only because she'd missed her nap.
Jamie appointed herself Tanya's "keeper." Any time the baby cried, Jamie would bring her a pacifier or a bottle and say, "Ooooo, dee GA!" (Oh, baby's crying!) I watched my big girl sitting with her tiny baby cousin, and I thought how it seems like only yesterday when Jamie was that little and new ...
My big girl will be two years old this Friday. My quick, lively, mischievous, pretty Jamie. At the same time I feel sad and I feel elated. I'm sad that the little baby is gone forever; I'm elated that she has grown into such a precious and lovely little girl.
NOTE: Kacie just got up on the sofa! 11:00 a.m. (one of the sofa cushions was on the floor)
Thursday 9:30 a.m.
December 8, 1983Morning time around the house ... Jamie, sitting at the kitchen table, happily munching on a bowl of cornflakes ... Kacie, crawling around the living room with the ever-present bottle hanging out of her mouth ... Mom, drinking coffee and half-listening to "Donahue" ... the rumble of the clothes dryer, the smell of last night's fried chicken, another winter storm brewing outside ...
I got an excellent night's sleep last night, punctuated by pleasant dreams (Scott A., tenth grade), and I woke up at 8 a.m. feeling refreshed and ready to begin the day. Tomorrow night we're having a birthday party for Jamie, so today & tomorrow I'll be busy getting the house in order. Sheryl's place was so pretty and Christmasey last Sunday ... it has inspired me to do something about my own house. We don't have our tree yet, but I've got out all the other Christmas decorations. I'm going to clean and polish and scrub until this house sparkles. I want to dazzle everybody with my impeccable housecleaning -- even if it is only a once a year phenomenon ...
Monday morning
December 12, 1983A few days later. Monday morning. Kacie, nightgowned and fuzzy haired, is poking a tentative finger at our Christmas tree ... Jamie, wearing a new plaid pinafore over light blue pants and a pink sweater, is watching the sparrows through the front windows. I'm a little relieved that Jay's birthday has come and gone. I worked so hard last week, preparing for it; this week I can just wake it easy and enjoy the lull before Christmas.
It was storming on Friday, the night of Jamie's party, and my mom and Grandma St. John decided not to drive out. Then Judy and the boys decided not to come. I was disappointed -- these were the guests I was most looking forward to seeing. As it turned out, the only people who came were Peg, Don and Barbara, and Sheryl & Jeff with Tanya. I started the evening feeling happy and festive, but that happy feeling began to evaporate as soon as they arrived: I'd made a big pot of wonderful hot spiced wine, but everyone turned it down. That hurt my feelings, a little. (Don Sr. and Jeff, especially -- they both made a disgusted face when I offered them some. A polite "No thanks" would have been sufficient.)
Jamie had a fine time, though. She opened presents and chattered happily at everybody. When it was time for cake and ice cream, she blew out her candles before we were halfway through "Happy Birthday."
Jamie *previews* the birthday cake
1983
The guests all arrived around 6:15, and by 8 p.m. they were all gone. Barbara had a school dance to go to, so everybody left at once. I sat there on the living room floor, in the middle of the discarded wrapping paper, feeling bewildered and hurt. I had spent the ENTIRE WEEK cleaning the house from top to bottom -- I even cleaned my bedroom, the fridge, the FIREPLACE, for crying out loud! -- and I'd been looking forward to this party for days and days. It was going to bring me closer to my in-laws. They would be impressed by how lovely my house was, and by what a good hostess I am, and by how well-cared for my daughters are. We were going to sit around the fireplace sipping hot spiced wine and listening to Christmas music ... I was going to make some popcorn. There would be all this lovely magic holiday warmth all over the place.
(BARF.)
Instead, it was the same old "us" and "them" ... they sat and talked amongst themselves, while I sat there feeling as much on the outside as ever. I will never arrive, will I? Frankly -- at this point -- I don't think I even care anymore. I am simply not their kind of people: you can't fit a square peg into a round hole.
The next day -- Saturday -- my mother, Grandma St. John and Deb all came out, and what their visit did for my general frame of mind was miraculous. It made me appreciate my own side of the family more than ever. The first thing Mom did when she came in was walk over to the piano and admire my display of antique toys and teddy bears. (The in-laws didn't even notice it.) Furthermore, Mom and Grandma not only drank some of my spiced wine ... they had seconds! We sat and watched Jamie open more gifts ... we chatted about family stuff, discussed the girls, had a nice time.
A package just arrived from my pen pal in New Jersey, Melinda Z. It says "Absolutely do not touch until Christmas!", but that's like waving a red flag in front of a bull. I've always been a package-peeker. In this case, I not only "peeked," I opened. Melinda knitted three beautiful sweaters - one for me, one for Jay and one for Kacie. They're multi-colored, sort of patchwork looking, and they're gorgeous! We're all wearing them now. Our first mother/daughter/daughter outfits!
Tuesday morning
December 13, 1983Another one of those mornings where the girls & I sleep until 11 a.m. and then the rest of our day is all out of whack. It's nearly noon but I'm still in my bathrobe, working on my first cup of coffee. The girls are dressed, at least. Kacie is wearing a mint green pilucho and yellow Humpdee Dumpdee booties; Jamie's wearing her knit jeans, a striped pullover and a bright red smock. (She also insisted on putting on shoes and socks, even though we're not going anywhere.) They've both had a bottle, and now they're beginning the systematic daily ritual of tearing the house apart.
Terry Solo gave Jamie a little toy shopping cart for her birthday last week, and Jay adores it. At the moment she's pushing it around the living room with one of her "babies" in it, her purse slung over one shoulder. Very much the Modern Mommy. (Took a picture of this.)
I have a lot on my mind this morning ... mostly Christmas stuff. My brain is humming.
*Going shopping*
1983
Monday
December 19, 1983Woke early (7:30 a.m.) to find an inch of snow on the ground! I was so excited, I got a sleepy & grumpy Jamie out of bed to show her. Once she really woke up, she was quite excited, even though she's never even seen snow before ... I guess my enthusiasm rubbed off on her. Late in the morning I bundled her up and let her run around in the front yard, while Kacie and I stood at the door and watched her. She tromped around, slipped and fell on her bottom once, chased the kitties, tasted a handful of snow, shook the shrubbery and watched the snow fall from it ... I brought her back in the house, wet and shivering but pink-cheeked with excitement, half an hour later.
I cleaned house while Rick B. from next door cleaned out the carport for me. I was a little tired from the weekend, so once I finished the housework, I took it easy for the rest of the day. Terry stopped by a couple of times, just to visit.
We got two packages today -- one from Aunts Dora & Helene, the other one from Ray's Grandma and Grandpa P. They contained six presents, three for each of the girls. I can tell that one present in a doll for Jamie, and the rest feel like clothes. We also got cards from Grandma and Grandpa P. (with $30), Rhonda R., and my "Sealed Sunshine" newsletter from Melinda.
The girls and I took afternoon naps -- Jamie slept in Kacie's crib (she insisted on it, for some reason), Kacie in Jamie's crib, and me on the sofa, next to the Christmas tree. When we woke up, it was dark. It made me think of the old Simon & Garfunkle song: " ... A winter's day / In a deep and dark December ..."
I fixed meatballs for dinner, with mushroom gravy and mashed potatoes. Ray was home at 9:30 and we sat in bed with Jamie for awhile, before going to sleep.
Last weekend Terry, Jamie and I went Christmas shopping at Totem Lake Fred Meyer. I spent $120 and nearly finished my shopping. I got Ray a pair of dark blue pajamas and a short-sleeved pullover. I hope to do the rest of my shopping on Friday, unless the snowstorm that's predicted actually happens and we wind up stranded.
Tuesday
December 20, 1983When we got up this morning, at our usual hour of 9:30, snowflakes had just started to fall again ... tiny, lazy, unhurried flakes, the kind that stick to the ground and pile up into huge snowdrifts after a few hours. Last night Ray said we're expected to get nineteen or twenty INCHES this week. I'm worried about Christmas Eve on Saturday. What if we can't make the trip to Grandma St. John's? I would be so disappointed.
Fixed Jamie a bowl of oatmeal and brown sugar for breakfast. She ate about half or it and then (unbeknownst to me) she set the bowl on the floor for Wendie Kitty. UNFORTUNATELY, Kacie discovered it before the cat or I did ... oatmeal everywhere ...
I sat around in my nightgown for most of the morning, sipping coffee and writing all of this.
Afternoon:
The snow stopped several hours ago ... it never really amounted to much, anyway, in spite of dire forecasts to the contrary.
Got $20 from Grandpa Torgrimson.
Wednesday
Dec. 21, 1983
