Age
26
"I'm
probably much
luckier - and much happier - than I realize."
Wednesday
September
21, 1983
Hello, 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, 1983
Tired 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, 1983
Cut 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, 1983
We 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, 1983
Worried 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, 1983
Can'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, 1983
Sunny 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, 1983
Sausages 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, 1983
I 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, 1983
Well. 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, 1983
He'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, 1983
A 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, 1983
Jamie 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 today
I 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 morning
It 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, 1983
Waiting 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 afternoon
A 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, 1983
The 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, 1983
The 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, 1983
Well, 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, 1983
Kacie 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, 1983
Ray 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, 1983
I 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, 1983
Feeling 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, 1983
Yesterday 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, 1983
I'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, 1983
What 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, 1983
Sheryl had her baby last
night
-- a little girl named Tanya.
Wednesday
9:30 a.m.
November 16, 1983
Nearly 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, 1983
The 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 today
Odds 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, 1983
Tomorrow 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, 1983
The 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, 1983
Yes ... 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, 1983
For 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, 1983
Bleak, 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, 1983
It'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, 1983
Morning 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, 1983
A 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, 1983
Another 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, 1983
Woke 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, 1983
When 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