Loss

On Wednesday, I watched as an 8 year old girl and her 3 year old brother buried their mom. Marisa Christina Gallegos was 27 years old. Her mom is one of my mom’s oldest friends. She and I were friends as children, I hadn’t seen her since we were about 13. She was one of the sweetest girls I’d ever met.

As of last I heard, they think she died of alcohol poisoning. Her mom (whom both she and her children were living with) was not notified until the police came to her door three hours later. Her friends did not call her mom. Her friends identified her body, so her mom didn’t have the opportunity to see her until days later. Her friends didn’t think, for one second, that her mother and her children had a right to know. It makes my heart break.

During the funeral, Eric looked over at me and said, “We’re chaining Ben to us.” I said something along the lines of, “And he’s not allowed to have friends.”

My dad said, “The streets will take your life. It’s always been that way and always will be.” My mom thanked God that Eric and I had found eachother and that I had “settled down”. There but by the grace of God…

I listened as the priest said things that were meant to give comfort. Things like how she was now in a place to help everyone fulfill their life goals. How no one should be sad because she is in a better place. It sounded patronizing. It doesn’t mean I don’t believe it, it’s just that, were I in her mother’s shoes, I’d smack anyone who told me my daughter was in a better place. She has two children that need her here, now. There is no better place.

I found pictures of her at my 5th birthday party. I made copies and will take them to her mom when we go to visit her next week. It struck me how her daughter looks exactly like her at that age. Same skinny body, rail arms and chicken legs. Everytime I saw her, I couldn’t help but cry. While I may have barely recognized the woman in the casket, the sobbing face of the little girl was very familiar.

I have so much to say about this but I’m not entirely sure how to put it together, so I apologize for this being scattered. I can’t imagine burying a mom so young and I can’t imagine burying your child. When her mom stood to speak, she reminded us all to hold our children a little tighter. I did and I will.

Goodbye, Marisa.

Great News

Welcome, AJ!!!

Congratulations, Marla! I’m so excited to meet him!!!

Buy (or Trade) Handmade

Jennie, the gal from Little Lids on Etsy and I made a trade earlier this month. I made her a Mei Tai and she made me two(!!) of her adorable hats for Ben. They’re so flippin’ cute in person. Unfortunately, since Ben is a willful child and gets all rambunctious with things on his head, I didn’t get very good pictures but I’m still trying!!

And the Mei Tai:

I love that so many of my girls make things. I’d rather buy from friends than some faceless (and most times heartless) corporation. You can be sure it comes with good juju. Check out some of my friends’ shops at the end of the post. Also, be sure to keep my stores (MonkeyBeansBaby & MonkeyBeans on Etsy) bookmarked. New stock is coming in soon! And, as always, I’m open to custom orders & trades!

Karen : Accessories by Mrs. Red
Julie : Hydroxide
Jennie : Little Lids
Mandy : Mandy Magoo
Valerie : My Wee Feet
Julie : Ohlieoh
Melissa : The Babymonster
Mandy : The Goofy Tooth

Protected: This Once

Congratulations, Canape.

He’s beautiful!

Scattered to the Winds

All of my friends have scattered to the winds. Hurtful things were apparently said and done, and no one’s taking it very well.

I can’t help but feel winter has everything to do with it. The demonic force that is lack of light, intense cold and shitty shoppers shoving you into shelves when all you need is a damn roll of TP has taken over. It sucks people’s energy and drains them of their positivity. It becomes really easy to ignore the other person’s feelings or let your own sadness envelope you when even getting out requires fighting with people you don’t even know.

On top of that, the holidays suck. They’re stressful, they’re lonely and they’re crowded. You have so much shit to get done. Just you. Your family has their own shit to do. You’re alone and yet you’re surrounded by a bunch of jerks that you’d rather explode than ever be around again (read: shoppers, drivers, in-laws). It has to be the most lonely, stiffling season of the entire year. Add to it that you’re spending more money than you’ve spent on your whole year’s mortgage, and you understand why December has the highest number of suicides for the entire year. Everyone’s sad and I’m sad for them.

I miss my friends. I miss my happy, snarky group of mommies that all loved making eachother crazy. I hope that after this winter passes, we can all re-absorb a little sun and sanity, make our amends and get on with normalcy. I mean, who else will I get to thrill with discussions of boob rot & jungle muffs?

Frageeeelieeeee…It must be Italian

From the the LA, I was given the leg. The major Italian award from the greatest Christmas movie ever and, since I am a selfish and lazy mofo, I am going to keep it for myself so that I don’t have to remember who got it and who didn’t.

Thank you, LA, I’m off to place it in the window until Eric jealously, accidently knocks it over.

Congratulations!

Girl’s Doogal was born July 5th, 2007 at 11:29pm. Just in time to see his grandma. I’m incredibly happy for her. Congratulations!

A New Box on the Sidebar

Because we need to support one other.

The Foot That Took Over the World

Take a look at it folks. It huge, it’s grotesque, and it’s actually on it’s way down in that picture. My right foot has begun swelling to insane proportions in the past week or so. It’s so large, even my Crocs no longer fit. The day we went shopping, it had actually managed to swell through the holes in the top of my Crocs. How ridiculous is that? Had I stood any longer I am convinced my foot would’ve swallowed my shoe like The Blob did to so many teenagers. As adorable as this whole marshmallow foot is, I miss being able to tell I actually have an in-step. I certainly miss not having stretching pains in the skin on my foot. Most of all, however, I will miss having cute toes. Not these pathetic, wrinkley, “I’m suddenly 107 years old” toes thanks to the dramatic gain and loss of water in them, and definitely not the little Vienna sausages that have been ruling the roost as of late.

One week to go and my main reason for wanting this kid out has become the insane swelling of my feet. You know, since the whole inability to lift my legs or sleep isn’t enough.

On a side note: The Girl rocks my socks. She’s terribly sweet, and don’t you dare let her tell you otherwise.