A few weeks ago, I put NikkiZ down in her crib for the night and she decided she was going to cry instead of go to sleep. I patted her back for a moment and she was still crying. So, for some reason, I started singing to her.

If you’ll recall - I have an awful voice and have been told so by people just in case I didn’t know this myself. I still love to sing and sang to LilZ a lot as a baby. Mostly Indigo Girls and Janis Joplin. (Janis Joplin, I’m sure, flopped in her grave every time she heard my rendition of “Me & Bobby Mcgee.”) However, I haven’t sang much to NikkiZ because I’ve gotten a bit reserved in my old age. I’m more aware of how bad my voice is and don’t want to subject anyone around me to the sounds of my singing.

But that night? I sang. And she IMMEDIATELY stopped crying. I mean - the second the first line, “Hush now baby don’t say a word…” came out of my mouth she quieted and after a few rounds of the song - she fell asleep. Sound asleep. My dangerously bad voice soothed her to sleep. It was a miracle, to say the least.

Since then, I’ve fallen back on this trick a few times. Namely in the car when I know she should fall asleep - but she’s fighting it. Everytime it works the same. LilZ was even witness to it on the way to Knoxville Friday and he is well aware of how amazing it was because he was listening to the same voice and can attest that it is anything BUT soothing. Yet somehow? It puts her to sleep.

This either proves the power a mother’s voice can have over her child and the inate reaction to the sound that nurtured their life for nine months. Or it demonstrates that my daughter is tone deaf.

I’m going for the latter.

LilZ is scanning old photos for me as a way to earn money this summer. He scanned the old motorcycle one of himself and I had to pull out the others for comparison. Especially the one from this past weekend. Seeing these photos forces several thought into my head. The loudest being:

OHMYGOD. His feet touch the ground on that motorcycle. OHMYGOD.

The other day, MrZ caught me saying that LilZ is 11. He had to say, “Twelve.” To which I said, “Huh?” “LilZ is twelve. Not eleven.” To which my mind said, Shut up, asshole. I did not say those words out loud because I’m not sure he would have understood why I suddenly angry at him.

12. In about six months he’ll officially be a teenager. AND HIS FEET TOUCH THE GROUND ON THE MOTORCYCLE. I’m having a mental breakdown. Can you tell?

Anyway…look at the cute pictures and marvel about how grown my son is while I curl up on the fetal position and rock back and forth for a moment. Thanks.

Several things to note about this photo:

• The Kotex in the forefront - because why should you feel anything but glamorous after a miscarriage? I mean - nothing makes you feel better about pregnancy loss than diapers that need to be changed more often than my daughters. (TMI?)
• The fridge. NOT in the kitchen. In the dining room.
• The countertop. NOT cleared off like my OCD-self likes. I mean, who needs counterspace for things like food and dishes when it can hold molding and tools?
• Multiples crockpots. Thank GOD I have several since I don’t have a stove OR a dishwasher OR running water in my kitchen.
• The most gorgeous TRAVERTINE tile EVER created in the HISTORY OF MAN.
• The most HIDEOUS fridge EVER. Which now clashes horribly with the tile in both color and style.
• The Kotex. I feel like I should mention it again since it’s such an awesome part of my life right now. I (heart) MAXI PADS. So Awesome.

Since I have a full life of happy home and family, there are other things to share besides my grief. It’s there - but it quiets with every passing moment and every friendly hug (virtual and otherwise). So, I’m going to take this moment to discuss with you the other parts of my life you’ve been missing out on through this sadness. And let me tell you - it’s some exciting stuff. You’ll be sad you almost missed it.

We’ve decided to try a new layout in my home that places my stove and refrigerator in my dining room.

Yes. My dining room.

We visited my parents this weekend so that MrZ could have the house to himself while he tiled our kitchen floors. This, of course, required moving all of the appliances out of the kitchen and into the dining room. The fridge is plugged in and keeping our food cold, but the stove, obviously, is not and simply acts as a shelf to hold various items from the kitchen. Like oatmeal and dog treats. Isn’t that where you keep that stuff? On your stove?

This has created quite excitement in our lives. Like: Where do I put my coffee spoon?

See - for various reasons - we also have no water in the kitchen. So - we are using all plastic and paper plates/cups/utensils. (Yes. I know. Not very green. But I’m not up for washing dishes in the bathroom, so that’s that.) I would normally keep my spoon by the coffee maker because the creamer is just a turn away in the fridge. But now - the coffee maker is in the kitchen and the fridge is in the dining room. Since I need the spoon near the creamer, I need it near the fridge, but the fridge is not really near any usable counters. So - the spoon is on the stove which is next to the fridge in the dining room.

The excitement! It’s so intense we can’t function normally!

There is still quite a bit to do before our kitchen gets back to normal, but until then we’ll be cooking all meals in the microwave and eating all food off paper plates. But let me tell you: It is GORGEOUS. He picked out the most amazingly fancy tile and even bartered it down to a cheaper price. Our floor is officially classier than we are. And WAAAY classier than our broken dishwasher and 20-year old fridge. And you know what else? It will not show dirt hardly at all due to the natural color of the stone. I could probably go a whole month without cleaning it an NO ONE WOULD NOTICE. Which in my world? Is like a gift from heaven.

I’m in bed right now after the exact day that I needed. We took a nap after an emotional morning. MrZ and I - just curled up in bed together. Then, I woke up and took LilZ to see Evan Almighty which was EXACTLY the type of movie I needed to see. Funny and sweet. I loved it. Then - we picked up NikkiZ from daycare and headed over to Stace’s house for pizza and beer. There was enough disctraction to keep me strong for my family, but not too much to make me hazy.

I crawled into bed after putting NikkiZ in her crib and started scanning the comments on my last entry. I also had plenty of email as well. I just had to stop. I kept crying and didn’t want to “miss” any of your wonderful words through my tears, so I had to take a break. I just - I just don’t know how to tell you “Thanks” without sounding just generic and superficial. But you all have no idea how much each of your kind words resonated in my heart.

I am lucky because I have two amazing kids asleep under my roof right now. But I’m also lucky because I have hundreds of friends in the computer who send me virtual hugs when I need it most. Some people may think blogging it stupid, but to me? It’s a lifeline. The words and condolescences mean so much - and I hope to eventually say “thanks” to everyone.

But tonight - I’m just going to bed. It’s been a long day. I’m okay. We’re okay. It’s not the best situation - but it’s not the worst. I have an amazing husband and two brilliant children. I am surround by friends and family who love me. And I have you. You who come through at all hours to wish me luck or give me hugs. Thank you.