Bad Santa

“I’m way too old for this shit.” -Marlo

“Anatomically speaking, I’m rather concerned that this fluffy man will find himself stuck in someone’s chimney in a couple of weeks. Hey, Edie? Should I tell this guy that his days are numbered? Or should I wait until after he drops our toys off?! ” -Knox

“Psssst. Psssst, Bubby. I have an idea so shut it and listen up. How about I cut his ass real quick while you snatch the sack of toys and make a run for it? We’ll have to play along and do the whole thing and tell him what we want for Christmas but he’ll never see it coming. What’s that? Oh. Yeah, Mo presents an issue. Well. It’s a big, bad world out there, Knox, and only the strong survive. May the odds be in her favor today.” -Edie

the unicorn turns four

From the moment I met her outside of my womb, I knew that she would be the one who softened me. From day one, she had a way of loving so big, of loving so unapologetically, and with such unbridled joy— you’d have to be a real psychopath to not be affected by standing in the midst of that kind of light. Because that’s exactly what Edie is: light and goodness and joy and a daily reminder that life is what you make it.

As we were driving home from school the other day, it began to downpour which inconveniently ruined our plans to go to the park, as we often do most weekdays. She was quiet for a moment, her forehead furrowed. I had hoped she hadn’t noticed but, as she let out a deep sigh, I knew that she had.

“Well, it stinks that’s it’s raining, babe. Maybe we can do the park tomorrow?”

“That’s okay, mama. It’s still such a beautiful day. It’s just raining now and you know what? You can’t have sunshine without some rain sometimes.”

Happy fourth birthday, my delightful little ray of sunshine. You are the glue that holds this family together and we couldn’t possibly adore you any more if we tried.

To the moon and back, Coop.

-mama

nibbles

“Mom, I drew a picture of you! Look, there’s your eyes and your nose and your mouth. And those are your boobies and some nibbles. It looks just like you doesn’t it?!”

-Edie Cooper Fadel, almost 4

five things | the same, but different

This current season of life— both literally and figuratively— has gotten the best of me. I’m not sure if it’s the weather or the specific stages my kids are in, but I’m struggling to find the joy in the average day. So, here are five things bringing me joy this week:

1. My kids— even though they’re the ones who are simultaneously making it difficult for me to see the joy right now. But, yes. The kids. It never fails to blow my mind how incredibly different each of my kids are. Marlo is showing signs of the teenage girl she will sooner-than-later become. She’s a deeply-sensitive feeler of all of the feels and believes everything in life should be fair and is quite the budding idealist. *le sigh* Edie Cooper, the wild middle child, is as unpredictable as she is cheeky and never fails to make us laugh. Waking up every morning is as good a reason as any for her to be happy and her disregard for negativity is contagious. To know Edie is to love Edie. And my lone baby boy? Dude is as brutish as a Neanderthal yet also as loving and affectionate as a Labrador retriever. He lives for his next meal and has the same almond shaped eyes as his sisters but with thicker, darker lashes. He rocks a man-bun/mullet coif that requires some real confidence to pull off. Which he does. He also has the largest ass I’ve ever seen on a baby and watching it jiggle as he runs away from me during a diaper change gives me life. This chapter of parenthood is hard but also full of magic.

2. My friend, Megan, just ignited my soul by introducing me to Dani Shapiro. I started with her most recent book, Inheritance, and holy hell. It’s a page-turner. As soon as I finish it, I’m going to dive into another of her novels. Have you read her books? If you have, which one should I pick up next?

3. I just ordered my second pair of denim overalls in one month. Today, I bought the blue denim version of the same black denim style I purchased a few weeks back because 1) they are alarmingly cozy, 2) they require little thought because all you need to add is a t-shirt and you’re done, and 3) they serve a utilitarian purpose by holding all of my kids little useless things they insist on carrying around only to refuse to hold any longer so they end up in my resistant possession. I will add that whenever I wear overalls, all I can think of is the line in Clueless when the spectacularly bitchy Amber looks with disgust at newbie, Tai, and says, “She could be a farmer in those clothes.” Amber is not wrong. I could be a farmer in these clothes but, you know what? I am HERE for it.

4. I’m trying to cut out coffee again. I’m currently sitting here drinking a coffee so, clearly, my willpower is standing strong.

5. It’s cold as fuck. *What does …as fuck even mean, by the way? I have no idea but it really gets the point across of how fucking cold it is. Should out to all the mid-westerners. God speed.

Easy E at 3.5

Fact #1: To know Edie is to love Edie. I say this not out of maternal bias as many would assume even though, clearly, guilty as charged; rather, I’m merely repeating what has been relayed to me by every person who comes into contact with her which is that she is irresistibly lovable. She’s just one of those rare breeds of people who others find nearly impossible to not like.

Fact #2: I do not claim to understand Edie’s particular kind of crazy but I do admire her 100% commitment to it. Edie often feels a little like life itself; a chaotic mess that somehow never fails to prove being worth the wild ride. But her dedication to crazy is never without purpose; when her shit hits the fan, she goes to great lengths to explain to me or whomever has set her off exactly why she is intent on losing said shit and precisely how whomever is responsible contributed to it. She also manages to give such a compelling and passionate argument that Joe and I have a very hard time being annoyed with her meltdown at all. She feels all the feelings, she tells us about them down to the most minor detail, never wavering, taking full ownership always. And you know what? I can’t help but admire that in a woman.

Fact #3: I’ve never met another soul on earth who loves their pork products quite as much as Edie. Last year, she convinced her entire class that no lunch was worth having unless salami constituted a majority of the meal. Her enthusiasm upon opening her lunch box every day and seeing those slices of salami in their designated compartment was so contagious that it wasn’t long before every other child in the class began demanding salami from their parents. Thanks to Edie, there is likely a small army of three year olds who need to have their cholesterol levels checked. On the flip-side, Edie’s never as upset or disappointed with me as she is when we run out of “lami’s” (pronounced lah-meeze) or, god forbid, I forget to restock them at the store. One such day that Edie didn’t find salami in her lunch box, she grew very quiet, teared up, lowered and shook her head from side to side, and with her arms out to each side to drive her exasperation home, she lamented to her teacher that “There are no lamis, Ms. Carrie. My mom hurt my heart because there are no lamis.”

Fact #4: If I hadn’t been there, I’d wonder if Joe wasn’t the one to grow, labor, and birth Edie himself because they couldn’t be more alike if they tried. I often wonder when— if at all— I’m going to show up in her because, truth be told, I want to be able to take some sort of credit for that child. Beyond the obvious— looking nearly identical as babies and toddlers— they are a pair of kindred spirits that always seem to be in on the other's joke. They have the same love language and good lord do they love a cuddle. They share similar roles among their siblings and are both even-keeled by default. They’re under-the-radar comedians who always know how to lighten a mood or say or do something inappropriate. They share the most beautiful almond-shaped blue-green eyes and lashes that seem to fan out across their entire face. They take the same physical stance with their knees locked and eyes glazed over when they’re deep in observation mode. They are both fiercely loyal to those who love them them, are deeply devoted to fairness, and can’t tell a lie to save their life.

Fact #5: Edie was born a week early, on Marlo’s due date, April 29th. She made labor and delivery as easy on me as possible and came into the world twelve hours almost to the minute after my first contraction, thirty seconds after my water broke, and without so much as a single push, forcing her father to witness the business end of things because there wasn’t even a single extra second to look away. Which, in hindsight, was clear foreshadowing of her overall disposition, general sense of consideration of those around her, and her holding people to a specific level of accountability. Edie reads a room and a persons’ needs better than most grown adults I know. Straight from the womb, Edie was born with the understanding that she stands not alone, but rather in relation to the world and people around her and, as a result, possesses the innate ability to fill the space meant for her without much effort. This ability to ride the waves of life, even as a newborn, is essentially how she came to be known as Easy E. Being in Edie’s presence— and being loved by her, particularly— makes life feel a little easier, a little lighter, even if in that moment life is proving to be unfathomably hard.