Oh, come on ... you knew I would have an opinion on the Miley Cyrus performance at the VMAs last weekend. And here it goes. I seriously don't care that she mimicked soft porn with a B-lister dressed like Beetlejuice, double her age on national TV. I haven't watched the VMAs in many years because it's filled with performances pushing the envelope in directions I don't care to be pushed. I'll save my breath and not preach about the young girls who now think conducting yourself like that is okay, because that's our job as parents to teach our kids what's acceptable, not Hollywood, not TV. I won't compare Madonna to Miley claiming that both have made some eyebrow-raising moves along the years, because seriously, you can't compare anyone to Madonna, you just can't. I think it was a classless choice to assume that this is what her fans, the public and that poor, poor audience wanted to see. Good thing I don't have to watch her, my son doesn't have to see her and my niece won't grow up looking up to her. First and foremost because we're lucky enough to have choices about that sort of thing and secondly, because I think Miley Cyrus' 15 seconds of fame may have been wrapped up with that little stunt. God speed Hannah Montana! Miley Cyrus just nailed close your coffin.
So I'll be taking a few days off of work for my big brother's wedding! Bradley and his fiancee, Julie, live in Boston, but they wanted our nephew Carter to be able to be in the wedding so they decided to have it here. Carter will be going down the aisle in style, that's for sure. My sister Karin and I have decorated the Radio Flyer wagon in wedding decor fit to transport a king. I can't wait to see him in it.
Brad and Julie get into town this afternoon, the mani/pedi brigade starts at 11am sharp tomorrow and then the airport will be filled with family and friends decending on Mad town for the next couple of days. I tell you this both because I'm excited and as a warning that if you're downtown this weekend...there may be a ruckus or two that you'll run into. It's nothing to be afraid of...rather, I encourage you to participate. It will be fun, for sure.
On Saturday, it'll have been a year since I got to kiss the cheek and zerbert the tummy of my nephew, Sammy. A year since I smelled his hair. A year since I stared at his beautiful face trying to memorize every square inch before I knew I wouldn't be able to anymore.
Today I choose to honor his birthday rather than wallow in his passing.
I'm not exactly sure how to describe this last year. I can't tell you how grateful I am that I get to have Sammy and his memory in my life. I thank God for him every single day ... while in the same breath cursing the day he left. I talk to him on my runs and I feel him with just the right breeze or the warming rays of the sunshine. A year ago I asked Sammy to visit as often as he could and I smile when I know his spirit is near.
I'd love to say that it's been 365 days of healing and forward movement...but I'd be lying. I've looked at a handful of the beautiful pictures from Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep but I just can't do it. I hope Sammy doesn't think I'm a wuss. I feel like the pictures I've saved in my heart are closer to my soul than the ones taken with a camera. But I know, as much as I hate the idea of it, that those moments I've sealed away will someday fade and I'll cherish the physical pictures even more.
For Sammy's birthday, we'll sing happy birthday and blow out some candles because that's what you do for a 1st birthday. It will be a day to celebrate his life. It settles my brain to remember that Sammy's life may have been short, but he got the insanely fortunate blessing of knowing only love. Being surrounded by those who cherish him most and feeling the richness of deep-rooted love is the only thing he knew ... what a gift.
But I'll never stop wishing I could have him back. And that ... I think ... is normal.
There's a brand, spankin' new pizza place in town...but I nor my family will be setting foot in it. And that's really too bad because I love to support local businesses. This week a woman was breast feeding while eating at the pizza joint and was asked to move to a more 'private place.' ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Women struggle with their breast feeding experience every day in one way or another, they certainly don't need more pressure. After seeing a few male friends on Facebook post that people should just 'get over it' and leave the owner alone; he apologized for his mistake...I can't help but be so annoyed. What on Earth about feeding your child needs to be private? Why should breast feeding moms be kept in back rooms and behind closed doors while attempting to be out in public? What it comes down to is other people being uncomfortable with the sight of GOD FORBID, a breast! And let's be honest here, as someone who's completely comfortable with breast feeding in public...I do everything I can to cover up. In most cases, you can barely tell that a woman is nursing her baby. I had a friend tell me that his wife would 'plan ahead.' You mean bring a bottle? First off there are MANY kiddos who won't take a bottle. Secondly, as to infer that a women who breast feeds casually two-steps into a public place ready to just 'whip it out' and make everyone around her uncomfortable is irritating beyond belief. I'm sorry if you're so shy that you can't fathom the audacity of a breast feeding mom who's doing the most natural thing on this planet...something that's been done since the beginning of time.... Maybe you're the one who needs to be in a more 'private' place as to shield you from all of the horribly offensive things going on in public like dog-walking and car-driving. Let's make a deal...you don't watch me breast feed, and I won't watch you yawn. Both are equally natural but only one is contagious...the nerve of doing it in public.