I pause a little bit before the maternity store, the one I always rush by without so much as a quick glance. A couple names whirl around in my head. I start to ponder what it really means to be of a family of five.
And then it’s over.
Just like that.
Before it barely began.
I was pregnant.
And now I’m not.
And I can’t believe how much I miss something that never really was.
Only a couple people even knew I was pregnant. It was so early. I would wait. At least a little while. Make sure everything was ok.
But then it wasn’t ok.
And now I’m just left here wondering why.
I’ve known so many women who have had miscarriages. And my empathy has always been deep for these mothers. To feel such a loss.
And now my compassion is even deeper. Now I understand just a little bit more.
And I just want to run out and do something, anything to get my mind off this.
But there is nowhere to go.
Nowhere I won’t feel this.
And now I’m just left here, with all this stillness in the air, all this potential that evaporated before I even had a chance to grasp it.
And I want to crush the sadness but I can’t.
And I want to end the longing but it’s there.
And that is where I am. For now.
And I squeeze my girls a little tighter and my gratitude for them is limitless.
At this point in October, I think many of us are suffering from pre-election anxiety disorder.
I haven’t found it on WebMd or anything but as far as I can tell, these are the signs…
You constantly check polls and a fraction of a point in the wrong direction overwhelms you with a deep, gnawing feeling of dread.
You find yourself watching extra loud, ultra annoying TV pundits when you have a perfectly good “Gossip Girl” saved on your DVR.
You spend hours obsessively wondering how anyone could support the other side and spend the rest of your time wondering how you will possibly endure the next four years if the opposing ticket wins.
Ok, so I’m not an actual doctor. But I don’t need a fancy shmancy medical degree to diagnose this disorder. I’m living it.
So here’s my plan for coping…
1. My new meditation mantra is, “There’s only 2 weeks left.” We can all conjure up some horrible time in our life that lasted way longer than two weeks. So c’mon! We’re not wimps. We can make it through the final stretch.
2. Begin meditation practice so I can use my new mantra.
3. Realize I don’t have time to meditate because that would leave me no time to check polls and watch TV news shows and curse the ridiculously biased NY Post.
4. Try to use diversion tactics like focusing on the Wolfman.
Who’s the Wolfman? Well, he’s this guy in England who lives with wolves. 44 year-old Shaun Ellis is so close to these animals that it’s apparently no big thang to “exchange playful tongue kisses with them.”
Now I’m sure you will be just stunned to learn that his wife dumped him (who wants to compete with a pack of wolves?). But unbelievably, he’s found himself a new girl – which just goes to show that even the dirtiest, lamest guys can find a girlfriend. Why is that?!
This girlfriend, now fiancée, had to eat incredible amounts of meat so the wolves would smell her, know she’s a carnivore and then accept her as a member of the pack. I swear. True story. You can see it all on Animal Planet.
And I don’t know about you but I haven’t thought about McCain or Obama in at least 30 seconds.
It’s at least a start.
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So when your dad comes into town from Cape Cod, you can peruse the Chelsea art galleries or maybe buy tickets to the recent Woody Allen movie or catch up on each others’ lives while watching the boats go by on the Hudson River…
or better yet
just make him phone bank for the Obama campaign.
Despite years of Democratic rantings, my dad hadn’t volunteered for a campaign since knocking on doors for Eugene McCarthy. Umm…. who? Yeah, that was 1968.
So he agreed on Sunday to end his 40 year hiatus and dive back into the political trenches.
If he was looking for gritty politics, this wasn’t it.
We arrive at a super posh, west village duplex that has an enormous wrap around balcony, with gorgeous views of the city.
We’re handed a list of potential supporters and given talking points. Oh and feel free to help yourself to the bottled water, fresh fruit and gourmet cookies.
Well, ok. Now I remember freezing my tush off in New Hampshire for Mr. Bill Clinton and I don’t remember anybody ever offering me any god damn gourmet cookies.
I am really nervous at first because of the whole cold-calling-strangers-who-might-be-really-mean-to-me thing. But you know what? After the first call, it’s all incredibly easy.
I call North Carolina voters and they are so darn nice. One woman says to me in the sweetest, most heavenly southern voice, “I’m sorry sugar but I’m voting for McCain.”
There is one little unfortunate exchange…
“Hi. This is Kelcey Kintner calling from the Obama Campaign. I’m looking for Gary or Pauline. This must be Gary,” I say.
“No, This is Pauline,” she responds in a gruff voice.
Oh. Sorry about that. I’m telling you, she REALLY sounded like a man. She/he is still undecided.
I am not afraid to use my womanly charms with the men either. Heck, it works for Sarah Palin.
And I’m certainly not above saying things like, “Arden Jones… Wow, that sounds like a movie star name.” Because it really does.
And I joke with them about how they are receiving millions of calls from the campaigns because they live in swing states and wouldn’t it have been great to be this popular in high school.
I reach at lot of Obama supporters and I have to say the whole thing is incredibly energizing. I encourage you to try it once. Come on. Once. Just click here.
There’s only two weeks left.
And there really is power in doing something.
Just ask retired U.S. General and Republican Colin Powell, a former Secretary of State for George W. Bush.
Because he just endorsed Barack Obama.
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Man, politics is crazy ugly… even with Joe, the infamous unlicensed, tax-owing plumber, around to unite us.
By the way, I’m starting to regret that I impulsively and enthusiastically joined Facebook’s Joe the Plumber Fan Club.
But Joe aside, no matter who you favor in this political race, things are getting seriously stressful.
I feel so desperate to do something.
And I can’t really give any more money.
So after ignoring about 387 emails from Obama’s campaign (very persistent, committed folks who apparently don’t have small children), this line finally got my intention…
“In October of 2000, Al Gore had a double-digit lead in the polls. By Election Day, it came down to one state and a handful of votes.”
Honestly, now I want to throw-up.
So with this startling information and “Project Runway” now concluded (Leanne is the winner? Really?! With all those repetitive, monotonous wave patterns and her melancholy vibe?), I am going to sit down this week and call some undecided voters in swing states.
It’s not my favorite thing to cold call strangers but really, isn’t 4 years of the McCain/Palin administration just a hair worse? Plus, a friend told me that the older folks are just so happy to talk to someone.
That made me kind of sad.
And then a lot less scared.
If you also want to do something, visit here. Even Obama recently half joked about the Democrats, “Don’t underestimate our ability to screw it up.”
I will be glad when this whole election madness is over and I can go back to telling you all stories about my kids. Like 4 year-old Dylan who said to me this morning, “I need a new piece of toast because I only took one bite but then I got up to do some dancing and I lost my toast and now I have none.”
Oh Dylan, that happens to me constantly during breakfast.
But for now, as we continue to debate politics, there is one thing we can all agree on…
I had no idea that you all were such Paul Rudd enthusiasts.
Imagine my embarrassment that I’ve been going on and on about crushes like Joe Scarborough and Michael Cera when you really wanted to hear about the former bar mitvah dj from Jersey (yeah, yeah I do my research. Do you think I just phone this crap in?).
But really, I had no idea that Rudd would evoke such passion. So from this day forward, I promise to stalk the “Knocked Up” star on any and all future public and private school tours. You know, in a secret, super cool, stealth way. I won’t get myself thrown in jail or anything.
Is it my own political wishful leanings or does Rudd look like a Democrat?
Before I begin, Senator McCain would just like to tell you that his 104 year-old great great great aunt Bertha has been hospitalized for a minor fainting spell. He sends his thoughts and prayers.
As for me… Having witnessed 3 tedious presidential debates and 1 barely entertaining, mostly grating vice presidential debate, I am just so enormously relieved that Obama turned down McCain’s original request for TEN town hall meetings.
For that reason alone, Obama gets my vote.
Sure it’s super fun to watch the candidates wander around the stage and endlessly suck up to undecided voters (How is anyone STILL undecided? I think they all just want to be on TV).
But TEN town hall meetings? In this economy, no one needs that kind of agony.
So thankfully this was the last hurrah.
And we had the chance to witness a classic, love triangle. Both Obama and McCain are desperately fighting for the affection of Joe the Plumber.
If I remember history correctly, McCain first dated Joe the Plumber and then Obama stole him away with his smooth rap and fancy economic policy.
Now McCain is trying to woo him back with his tax plan, his constant blinking and his copious note taking.
Or at least that’s how I remember it.
I hope Joe the Plumber picks the right man in November.
If not, I hope he at least comes to fix my broken washing machine.
Since moms are usually right, I end with advice from moderator Bob Schieffer’s mom.
“Go vote now. It will make you feel big and strong.”
Or my slightly tweaked version…
“Go vote now. It will make you feel super skinny, sexy and strong.”
Seriously, go vote.