I miss camp. I wrote this story in 2001, the last year I worked full-time for the Boys and Girls Club. I’m not a very sophisticated writer, but it tells the story I was going for.

I had died. Well, I wasn’t exactly sure of that, but I was unable to open my eyes and my body was no longer obeying my commands to move. This, I figured, was a sure sign that I was no longer among the living. I couldn’t recall why I had died though. I remembered being at camp leading a group of children in a game with my co-counselor Mike, and then – nothing. I was a bit perplexed at this point about what I was to do next as I had never died before and I was a little unsure how to proceed. There was certainly not a sign saying “heaven this way.” Was I supposed to wait here for someone? Was I supposed to find my way on my own? Or was this it, this black void was all there was after life?

It was while I was contemplating my options that I became aware of a small sound, barely noticeable even though the silence in this strange place was overwhelming. It was odd to hear, the only sensory stimulation present in the void. But it was getting louder, that much was certain. After a few seconds it was resolved enough for me to determine that the sound was that of a child crying. Now, any parent, teacher or camp counselor will tell you that there are not many things that will bring you back to earth faster than the sound of a crying child, so I focused and decided that the sound was coming from somewhere near my left ear. I tried to tilt my head to discern the source and to my surprise my muscles complied. Next, I tried opening my eyes and after a few false tries and some feverent blinking I could see the fuzzy, blurry face of Mike looming over me with a look of concern. “Ah!” he said, he face relaxing with obvious relief, “You’re back! See I told you she would be fine, Dylan,” but it was obvious from the look I had caught on his face as I was opening my eyes that he had been more worried about my condition than he let on to the ten year old crouching beside me.

“I-I-I-I-I’mm sooooo ssssorry!” sobbed Dylan, curling himself into a ball at my side. “I didn’t mean to!” I could see he was upset and despite his claim that he was the one responsible for my untimely demise, I hugged him and we calmed him down, ensuring him he wasn’t in trouble and it was all okay. However, as Dylan could barely talk from crying, I couldn’t get him explain just what HAD happened, how I came to be decked out on the ground, and why he was so upset about it.

“What happened?” I asked Mike quietly once we had Dylan feeling better. I could feel a large bump forming on the top of my head that had started throbbing and as Mike started to answer it all came back; the game, the bump, the mini wooden bat thrown hastily at Dylan’s feet, and the reason for my almost-death. As I struggled in a futile attempt to stand up Mike’s face split into a huge smile and he turned to look at Dylan. With a note of discernible pride in his voice Mike answered, “Dylan just hit his first home run.”

We received a lot of gifts when Noah was born. Beautiful blankets, adorable sleepers, lots of books. We treasured each one.

Brian and June (and Zoey) DeWagner gave us a gift that I will never forget. Brian, a gifted writer, wrote a post about Noah. He took the things I like about myself, the things I treasure about Adam and distilled them into a picture of Noah when he grows up.

If he turns out half this cool, I will be one happy Mom. Thanks, guys.

I love searching babies faces for traces of their parents and my baby is no exception. It’s obvious to anyone that he looks a lot like his father, but he does have my grandfather’s smile, something that I don’t think I have myself, though my mother does. And I have proof.

Here’s Noah, freshly hatched (and looking quite pleased with himself) beside a picture of my Mom’s brother Harvey, who also has Dedo’s smile:

And here’s the little hero beside an old pic of my Mom:

See? The same smiles! Like they know something you don’t. And, of course, here is Adam and Noah, both taken at two months old:

He has so much of Adam in his face that it is nice to see some glimpses of my influence.

There isn’t really anything left unsaid; our relationship was uncomplicated. Every year I made you your own container of Skunkie Joes and you rescued a few of Aunty Linda’s deviled eggs from my Dad’s greedy grasp in return. You heckled every boyfriend I ever had and I heckled every joke you ever made. You were protective, but I know that for all my complaining, I would never have ended up with someone who didn’t pass your tests.

I don’t know anything about where you are right now and I don’t know what I believe in about all that anyway. I don’t even know where you were before you died, but I know it was someplace dark and lonely and I wish we could have pulled you back. Or just sat with you. It might still have been dark, but at least then you would not have been alone.

This for you, JP. Remember to go light on the cocoa and heavy on the vanilla and you’ll be fine.

Christmas Skunkie Joes

• 4 cups sugar
• 1 cup butter
• 3 level tbsp cocoa
• 1 cup milk
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 6 cups rolled oats
• 1 tsp salt
• 2 cups coconut

1. Bring sugar, butter, cocoa, milk & vanilla to a boil and boil for 1 minute.
2. Remove from heat and stir in oats, coconut and salt.
3. Drop by spoonfuls on wax paper. If the mix is too watery, let it stand in the pot until it cools a bit and is firm enough to stick together when dropped on wax paper. Let stand at room temp until firm.
4. Store in an airtight container or freeze to preserve longer.

Noah’s previous shots – mouse over for his age in each picture

Noah has a bit of a cold, so I asked Adam to pick up some Saline solution so I could clear is nose and help clear up his congestion. I asked him to get unmedicated drops since you aren’t supposed to use cold remedies on babies and a mist wouldn’t help wash out the gook. I wanted to make sure he got something suitable for use on small babies, but didn’t realize I may have told him the specifics a couple times too many until he returned home.

Me: “Did you get them?”

Adam: “Yup.”

Me: “Did you get the right kind? The ones for ba —”

Adam: “Saline rinse, drop form, unmedicated, mild solution,  recommended for occasional nasal congestion. And there’s a picture of a baby on it.”

Me: “Oh. Well, good.”

He’s taller than his bunny now! He just outgrew the sleeper we brought him home in and I didn’t know what to do with it. I wanted to frame it or something.

I like this picture because he is wearing what my cousin Tina calls his “Grandpa Sweater,” which is apparently quite delicious…

Noah’s previous shots – mouse over for his age in each picture.

You may have noticed that the Sixth & Elm Etsy Shop has been closed for a bit, but rest assured that this closure is only temporary and I plan to reopen at the beginning of February. I had a very busy fall season and I needed time to finish my lengthly queue of orders before I took any new ones, and I knew that I would need some extra time off once Noah arrived too. In addition to that, there is a rule against earning extra income for the first 13 weeks of maternity leave while collecting maternity benefits from the Canadian Government. I will get paid for the full year off like everyone else, but for some reason they do not allow you to work for the first 13 weeks. I don’t mind though. I am using the time off to come up with some new designs for the shop re-openning in February.

If you would like to be notified when the shop is taking orders again to can sign up for automatic email notification on the Sixth & Elm shop page (don’t worry, you won’t be signed up for newsletters or spam) or you can check back here as I will post once I am up and running.

My sister (in-law) Julie was the first person I knew to do this, but it has caught on and is quite popular now in the family for tracking the growth of all the grandkids. It’s traditional to use a stuffed animal for scale, but I had to use two to prop him up by wedging him in between them. He was still a little floppy, especially when was sleepy and he is sleepy a lot. Emily said that when she saw the bear for the first time it was much smaller than she expected from the picture, so it’s hard to get an idea of just how tiny and cute he was at that time.

I am a bit behind in posting these, so the first few will be posted all at once, then I’ll post them monthly as I take them.