The words to Katy Perry’s song pretty much sum up the weekend I had, starting last Friday night: pictures of last night ended up online, I’m screwed, oh well; it’s a blacktop blur but I’m pretty sure it ruled, last Friday night…

Last week I went to a reunion. Except it wasn’t really a RE-union, because most of us had never met in person before Friday afternoon. When I was pregnant with Melody, I joined an online community of women who were also prego and due in the same month as me, February 2007. Over the years we have taken our group private on a private Facebook group and we are incredibly close knit. One of our ladies lives in Pittsburgh, PA, another from South Africa was coming to the US to see her, someone else said she was going to be in town at that same time, and the whole thing just snowballed from there. I decided it would be the crown of my bummer summer (another story in itself) and John was going to just have to deal with it! He did of course, he is awesome.

In all we had 15 women from all across the US and one from South Africa invade the quiet Courtyard by Marriott in West Homestead on the waterfront. They were kind enough to put us into adjoining or next-door rooms and thank heavens no one complained, because we were far from demure!

The fantastic and really rather amazing thing about this reunion is that even though we were just meeting face to face for the first time, we all fell into those patterns you have with your longest and truest friends. There was never a moment of awkward silence. Frankly, there really wasn’t a moment of silence regardless. How is it that a group of women who have only talked over email, phone calls or text messages for the past five years can feel so comfortable with one another? Maybe it was the cocktails, but I think it was something more.

The online relationship is a new dynamic in human communications, one that sometimes still has a stigma of being creepy, weird, artificial, because frankly there are people out there who are trolls. They are not “real” in their online communications. There are times someone will say something online that they would never consider saying to someone they met on the street! But this community, this pregnancy community that has evolved into a mom’s community, has the benefit of complete honesty woven into it, from day one. There are other online communities like this, mine is not something unique or unusual, but it is special to me and my friends. We know each others’ stories, our struggles, our triumphs and our defeats. Life isn’t easy, but it is somehow better knowing there are 65 women out there who understand you and support you, even if it’s just a quick note to say “I’m thinking of you!” We are far from similar, coming from every background, walk of life, and future aspiration, but we all share the bond of having been there for each other when we needed it most.

At this time last Friday night, we were toasting being together for the first time after so many years of knowing one another. We were toasting how blessed we are to have one another as solid and honest friends as we muddle through this endeavor known as parenthood. We were toasting everything to be honest, the drinks were flowing, the waiter was so kind and took care of us very well, so we tipped him hugely! He deserved it after we camped in his section for 6 hours loudly laughing, shouting, screaming “heyyyyy!” every time a new member of the group showed up. Don’t say we didn’t warn him, because I did as soon as we walked in! Later that night we took delivery of the largest pizza I have ever seen. In my life! It was easily 3′ diameter and had 49 slices, and it was good too. The drinks flowed, we skyped with friends who either couldn’t come or who lived too far away (as in Australia!), told stories and laughed, laughed, laughed, until we cried.

Saturday we went to the Monongahela Incline (built in 1870) which was interesting, and takes you to a spectacular view of the city right on the waterfront. The horns from the various boats and charters rang over the landscape like something I must have heard in a movie, but it was all real. From the top of Coal Hill (as it was known back in the day) we could see the stadium, the sky scrapers, numerous bridges, all blurring at the edges as they blended in with the hilly and tree-covered terrain. It was hot and muggy and there wasn’t much of a breeze, but we didn’t care. We walked around a bit and found a “parklet” which is basically a few benches, some brickwork, and some flowering bushes on an oddly shaped lot at the corner of two streets that have a cattywompus intersection. The buildings were angular and old, smashed in between tired Victorians that have been converted to shops and restaurants. We visited a modern fire station with a gorgeous and shiney snorkel truck, then walked down a cobblestoned street that was easily 100 years old. Pittsburgh is one of those cities that blends the old and new somehow seamlessly.

Saturday night found us at some restaurant where I pitied the tables around us. The hostess foolishly seated a family with a small child right next to our table and it must have been so racous for them to endure! I tried my first (and last!) oyster while another of the ladies just couldn’t gag it down. We enjoyed more martinis and an enormous piece of carrot cake with delicious cream cheese frosting. The food was fantastic…I just can’t remember what it was! :-) After we staggered back to the hotel we settled in the bar for a night cap while simultaneously trying to discourage a tattoo run by a couple of the girls. More laughing, more stories, more drinks.

I hated to leave but I was heading out Sunday morning to visit with my best friend Tara in Knoxville. (I’ll tell you more about that on another post because we had an incredible time that deserves its own entry and photos.) For now I will close by saying I love these ladies like I have known them forever, always in person, and I cannot wait to meet more of the group until I have met all 65!

I’ve heard that there is a lot of news going around the internet about someone who died, but I’m going to take the high road here (THANK YOU TO OUR AWESOME U.S. MILITARY, ESPECIALLY THOSE WHO SACRIFICED ALL TO MAKE YESTERDAY POSSIBLE!) and tell you what’s going on in my house.

Remember that little water leak and the ET capture last September? Well, after fighting with our bank on a few things and interviewing numerous contractors, we finally settled on a company we trust to complete the repairs.

The house got immeasurably worse once the work started. We needed a full repipe of the house because three pipe breaks in 5-7 years just screams “old plumbing!” Of course as the repipe work went on and they opened up the walls, they found more and more things wrong and opened up more and more wall. This house was a normal tract house until the original owner decided to make a few changes. On his own. He might have had his heart in the right place, but he wasn’t a very good builder and he took some short cuts. The second owners (who we bought the house from) also did as little as possible it appears, when something went wrong. They had a pipe break at some point and only replaced the section that broke and not the entire line. Yes, it was cheaper but ultimately led to some minor complications for us. Sigh… The funniest part of the work though was having the walls open to the studs so that we could see straight through from the living room to the laundry, and the dog and the cat using that as egress to escape Melody’s enthusiastic yet not pet friendly play.

Regardless of the bathroom fan that was not venting to anywhere and just blew the air into the rafters, the kitchen attic space that was not insulated, and the difficulties in selecting a tile floor that both John and I like, we are progressing nicely. We replaced the tacky 1980s vintage single florescent kitchen light (you know the ones, they look like a trellis hanging off your ceiling) with gorgeous recessed lighting, got rid of the also tacky 1975 vintage vanity and sink in the powder room, to be replaced with a sleek and beautiful pedestal sink, had additional lights installed in the hallway (long hall which had only 2 lights) and it’s now bright and beautiful, and best of all, upgraded from the faux wood floors to a beautiful tile. The tile’s not installed yet, but we placed the order and are excited to have the job done.

Our house is filthy right now from all the drywall and construction dust, but it’s coming along. Once all the work is done, the rest of the house will look like crap, but the floors and walls will be pretty, right?

Oh, and I sprained my ankle last week at work, was attended to by good looking firemen, rode in an ambulance for the first (and hopefully last) time, spent several hours in the ER waiting on X-ray results, and am now in one of those soft cast thingies. Again. For the record, this is my third soft cast in 15 years. That has to be some kind of record.

I said goodbye to my sweet Nano today. Sometimes, being a responsible pet owner is really hard. 

Like everyone else, I enjoy a good superhero movie from time to time. Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, etc. were all present and accounted for during my childhood, and I enjoyed their shows. I admired Wonder Woman for her patriotism and quest for right. I looked up to Superman and wondered what it would be like to just move things out of my way with a simple shove. (Of course, I was one of the few teenaged girls who thought Christopher Reeve was a horrible choice for Superman and I never liked the movies, but I digress.)

Superheroes right the wrongs; they stand up for the downtrodden; they make the bad guys pay, not in “the next life” but in this one, where they have committed their crimes! Superheroes correct society to be better for everyone. Right? People want to know there is someone looking out for them. We want to believe that someone will come along and catch the thieves who stole our family inheritance, or unravel the clues to where the threat to national security is hidden. We want to know, at the core of our uncertainty and fear, that someone is going to take care of us.

Have you ever watched one of these old time superhero shows with a critical eye? Sure, they are campy and fun, and for children they can be a role model for doing the right thing. The trouble with superheroes is that if they really existed, society would fall to pieces. For example, Isis recites some corny poetry and gets nature to do her bidding, thereby pulling the car off the cliff and saving the life of the reckless driver. Does the reckless driver truly face the consequences of his actions? No, not really. Isis saves him and he goes on his merry way. Superman flies over just in the nick of time to rescue the kid dangling from a telephone pole which he climbed against his parents mandate. Does the kid think to himself “whew, better listen to my folks from now on!” or does he continue to test his boundaries? The people the superheroes rescue are given a second chance, but of course the TV shows never really tell us what happened three months later when Wonder Woman wasn’t around to rescue them again.

Let’s face it. If superheroes really existed, people would look to the superhero to solve their dilemma, rescue them from their own foolish actions, and otherwise stand in the role of local, state and federal government/court systems/law enforcement. Superheroes would make us less capable of solving our own problems with ingenuity and critical thinking. They would make us dumber than we already are. People do dumb things, we cannot deny it, but the beauty of doing something dumb is (hopefully) learning from the consequences and then not repeating that dumb thing again. So while it would be nice to have Batman and Robin destroy the drug cartels, or Superman go find Osama Bin Laden, personally I think it’s better that we have to do these things on our own.

A few of the things that made this country great for hundreds of years are innovation, critical thinking and problem solving. Superman, if you are reading this, no offense, but maybe you could crash land in some other country? Thanks.

You hear it all around you: why are people so sad, disfunctional, angry, bombing, killing, selfish, greedy, ad infenitum. And yet, at the holidays, we are imbued with the spirit of giving, generosity, caring, helping, remembering that Christmas is about giving rather than receiving. I have often wondered why that happens. Why, one time a year, do people find the good and forget the bad? I think I may know part of the answer.

I’m not a deeply religious person, but I find that spirituality and God’s words can be reassuring and comforting. My friend says “God’s word is medicine for the soul.” Perhaps during this time of year as we listen to the Christmas carols – many of them hymns of praise to God – we become healed for a moment, dosed with God’s medicine for our souls.

Just the other night, I attended the symphony with my mother and sister. The music was gorgeous, uplifting, all encompassing. The devotion the musicians must put into their work, practicing hours on end to play the piece perfectly, the focus with which they concentrate on the music and the emotions and meaning behind the piece, all this suddenly became very clear to me. It is part of the answer.

In centuries past, people were filled with devotion and faith. It was part of their daily lives, a given that was accepted and expected across cultures, races and borders. The famous composers – Handel, Bach, Bethoven, et al – poured their devotion and their dedication into their work, their music, their operas and symphonies. The result is amazing, uplifting, and joyous music. It is healing and moving. Listen with your mind and your body, not just with your ears, and you will see, feel and hear the medicine. This was the music that people listened to, performed in their homes and sang at church, not the sometimes dischordant and negative music we hear on today’s radio. I’m not advocating giving up popular music, because don’t get me wrong, I love me some Maroon 5 and Weezer, but maybe find a way to bring classical music into your life once in a while. Going to the symphony is one way, and the ticket prices are surprisingly reasonable. The music will sound great no matter if you sit in the front or the last row of the cheap seats.

Psalm 98 says to us “make a joyful noise unto the Lord all the earth; make a loud noise, and rejoice and sing praise!” While you are singing Oh Holy Night, or Joy to the World! this season, listen to the words, hear them in your heart, sing them with the devotion with which they were written, and you may have that answer as well.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!