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Wednesday is coming.

Wednesday is coming and with it comes sadness and heaviness and a sense that I will need to say something -- to write something -- and that I should know what that something is by now. But to figure that something out, I would need to be thinking about it, about the sadness and the heaviness, instead of pretending that Wednesday is not coming.

Pretending it doesn't mean as much as it does, this weirdly arbitrary-when-you-think-about-it block of 365 days plus one, for leap day, which makes it feel even stranger, like I should be dreading Tuesday but the Gregorian calendar is dictating that no, thou shalt be sad on Wednesday

Pretending that I will not be spending it visiting his grave and comforting my mother and basically powering through the day (C'MON THURSDAY!) as quickly as possible so it doesn't crush me like a gnat and I'm not making any sense here, today, on the Friday before, which doesn't give me much hope for coming up with the right words on Wednesday

Ya know? 

Probably not. That's okay. Me neither. 

Here's a video of Ike begging for ice cream while Noah asks for permission to watch Angry Birds videos on "YouToo," (which we rarely let him do anymore after realizing what YouTube considers to be a "related video" to Angry Bird cut scenes), and Ezra was there too but he's busy eating ice cream and anyway, it was a nice dinner together outside in the warm weather and Ike's little mouth makes me smile. A lot. 

Baby Ike Likes Ice Cream from amalah on Vimeo.

That feels right for today, I think.



I love how in the first two passes of the spoon, Ike is willing to reason that Jason just missed putting it in his mouth, but by pass number three, Ike wasn't having it anymore! So cute.


Oh that little baby bird mouth is too much! So sweet.


You guys make some seriously cute babies.

It gets easier. It's always hard, in one way or another, but it gets easier every year. I promise. Also, it's ok for it to be hard right now, and to just power through it, because, what else can you do? Everyone deals with grief in their own way. The way you need to handle it is the right way for you.


I needed that today. In fact, I needed that video to be a lot longer than 18 seconds.


Ike is SO ADORABLE there. Loving his little mouf!!

Also, *big hugs*


@Gaby - by try number three poor Ike looks as though he is ready to grab the spoon & bludgeon Jason until he gets some ice cream.

Kathy W


I lost my Mom a year ago March 9. Two weeks later, my Dad started hospice and I lost him on June 12. This past year has been heartbreakingly hard.

What I have found..and I hope you do too, is that the "dread" of the anniversary dates (birthdays, death dates, hospice start dates, first Holidays without, just-because dates) and anticipation of those days is a lot harder than the day itself. Anticipation is so much harder. I found myself wanting to feel that terrible suffocating grief because it seemed the right thing to feel, but instead, some of these days have passed quietly. Softly. Without fanfare.

Grief doesn't know caledars or dates. Sometimes I find myself literally knocked off my feet by the power of my feelings (steath grief, I call it...) and other times it's much more gentle and soft.

Here's to soft and gentle for you. (((HUGS))


Love you.

Kathy W

PS..and Baby Ike kills me.






That just made my day!


If that video isn't the cure for what ails ya... :)


Aw, Amy. No Sage Words, but I feel you.

Plano Mom

I am so looking forward to the post you make where you're mortified because that day went by and you were too busy to realize it.

I promise, promise you it will happen. And when it does, please let me know so I can tell you not to be an asshat by feeling guilty about it.

Love, your favorite 30-year veteran.


I like Baby Ike. I want to eat his cheeks. Or suck them. But then he'd have hickeys and you'd be trying to explain why he had hickeys on his little baby cheeks in his next few photos and I'd be trying to explain that no, really, I wasn't trying to give him a hickey, I just, mmmmm so much cheek, I'm not trying to take your baby, lady, I'm trying to explain, would you just let me, COME ON! COPS? SERIOUSLY? IT WAS JUST A DAMN NIBBLE. I know him from the Internet; he didn't even mind!

I'm sorry about Wednesday. I wish this weren't the Wednesday that it is or that you will still be sad on Thursday and the Wednesday after this. I wish there was something more substantial to say.



I lost my dad exactly one month before you did, so I just went through the one-year thing. 'Power through it,' as you say, and don't feel like you have to write anything about it. And don't assume that you will feel So Much Better after the date has passed. Maybe you will, maybe you won't. Just let yourself do what you need to in the moment, and be kind to yourself.

I'll be thinking of you.


What I found even funnier than the hopeful little Ike mouth was your quiet snort when he got upset. I do that...a lot.

I can't believe it has been a year - I feel like you just wrote about that the other day...must feel even more like that to you. I'm sorry. *hugs*


Personally, I've found the days leading up to a sad anniversary consistently harder than the anniversary itself.

You've got enough to deal with- don't even entertain the notion of trying to write some special post for Wednesday that perfectly sums up everything. I'm sure I speak for most of your readership when I say that you could write about toenail fungus and it would still be charming and hilarious.


p.s. no pics needed for that fungus post, k?


That video is way too short. Adorable little birdy mouth that just wants to eat. Love it.


It's not "the day" that stays with you through the years. After 16 years, it's the time of year. Spring, Easter. March 25th. The day for me. But with loving families and beautiful children, we can't dwell. Thanks for sharing your beautiful children and making my heart lighter.


I'd like to say it gets easier with each passing year. But it doesn't. It just gets DIFFERENT. I lost both of my parents, my Dad is coming up on 5 years gone, mom is coming up on 2. and it just sucks. But, we make it through the day, and keep on keepin' on. Lots of hugs coming your way on Wednesday.


Ike is too cute! He is like a little birdie. hee hee hee


OMG, that video totally made my Friday night. What a perfect way to end the week. Sigh.


It is funny. The day that my dad's death hit my mom was not the anniversary of the day he died but their next anniversary. I was away from home and she called me crying at how she '...missed that old gray head on the pillow next to me...' It had us both sobbing on the phone and it still tears me up today, many, many years later.

As others have said the ache never goes away but it does get less insistent. Hang in there.


Wow, I can't believe it's already been a year. I'll be thinking of you.


What does it say about us a society that we think it's freakin adorable to see babies get pissed off? Is it a direct result of all the questionable parenting of the 60s? Am I just too excited for Mad Men?

Kudos to Jason for keeping a straight face. ;)

Ps- It doesn't seem like it's been a year... It just doesn't.


I'm pretty sure all your readers will be thinking of you and your family Wednesday, for whatever that's worth. I was filled with all these bright suggestions and then realized no matter what you do, Wednesday will blow goats-- but it, too, will pass.


My mom died about 9.5 years ago, and Kathy W (above) explains the way I feel better than I can. I hope the day is gentle with you.

CUTE video!


I hope you'll find time to laugh on Wednesday. Because that's part of life, too.

For me, the anniversaries of my dad's sudden death--and there have now been five of them--have never been all that awful, mostly because I look at them as just another day without him. I can find myself being sad on any given day; it doesn't need to be the anniversary. So, I don't give the anniversary date any mythical power.

I did that from the first anniversary. I let myself remember, and be sad, and I called my mom. But I also laughed, and went to work, and talked to friends. And, yes, it does get easier.

I hope you find what you need to do do be okay on that day. Thinking of you.


I've mentioned this before I think, but really - a level of sadness lifts a bit once you've done the whole 'first christmas without him, first anniversary' stuff.

You spend time leading up to it feeling overwhelmed, and then when it's here, it's done. It's not as bad as you think.

And while the sadness never leaves you, I think the grief does.

At least I found that. I hope your day isn't too hard, and I hope that the fog does lift a little for you.



My dad passed away 02/28/11, and I was dreading "the day". I knew it was going to blow, so I played hooky and called in to work and stayed home and just really did nothing all day. Spoke to my siblings , checked in with mom, and called it One day at a time. Baby Ike is seriously adorable. and Ezra. I wanted to get out my sewing machine and start making him an apron. However, the thought occured to me that it was kind of creepy, so suffice it to say they are wonderful little boys, all of them. ( I also had 3 boys. then a girl. then I was done.)


We have a lot of similarities, at times a bit creepy. Our older children very much a like, down to the YouTube videos of Angry Birds. My moms 4th 'death' anniversary
Is Tuesday, and I too was pregnant when she passed away from cancer. The first year of first is always the hardest. It really does get a bit easier each year. Sometimes I wonder if I should focus more on her day of birth, or death. I'm still not sure. Better to have a sitter on hand that day though, just so you can loose your shit in peace and privacy.


I will be thinking of you on that day; I know it won't be easy for you. Our turn is coming April 28. My fiance's mother died during what should have been routine back surgery to repair a work-related injury. She was an obstetrics nurse, and had blown out her back lifting her patients. She was in agony for months as the hospital where she worked jacked her around, repeatedly scheduling and then cancelling, and then re-scheduling her surgery. When enough time had passed, they told her to come in and clean out her locker, as they could no longer hold her job open for her. They forced her to have the surgery "in house", rather than at the hospital she chose, as it would be cheaper, and they could write off the cost. Their greed cost Carolyn her life. She died the day before her husband's birthday, and what would have been their wedding anniversary. It was two days before my fiance's birthday, and a few weeks before what was supposed to be our wedding day. Our grief is all-consuming, all-encompassing, uncontrollable, and eternal. It is matched only by our rage. The hospital installed a brick with Carolyn's name on it in their new atrium, and we've been asked repeatedly when we're going to come see it. The only way I will ever visit that fucking hospital is with a gas can in one hand and a box of matches in the other.

Jen Larson

I am new to your blog, but I am compelled to comment. I lost my dad in a car accident in 2006. I dreaded day 365. And it sucked. Day 366 was just as tough as 364. But at least that year if "firsts" was over. Over time, though, the intensity of the grief changes until eventually you don't feel it's weight on your shoulders every day. I hope that day comes for you soon. Peace.


Hang in there, Amy. You're doing fine. And I second *m*. It's your day, your grief, do what feels the best to you. (19 years this July 15. First it was every Thursday, then it was the 15th of every month, then eventually July 15th. Now when it comes, it's out of the blue. It's not so much that it's easier, it just isn't as overwhelming and I know that the acute pain will pass.)


Can that child BE any cuter?

And yes, fuck cancer.


The anniversary days are hard. Take care of yourself.



Mine passed 20 days ago, but really it was more like 10-15 years with the effing Alzheimer's. I just sat and waited for it to happen after caring for him for two years, until walking away a year and a half ago, drama. Dates get blurred, I think, but the first few dates hurt.
Your family is in our hearts this week. Post whatever. Post nothing.
And Tallulah? I'd smash that effing brick with a hammer in broad daylight, and suffer the what? 'destruction of public brick' sentence. And get a scary lawyer. I really hope your family finds peace.


I have a two month long anniversary coming up. My dad had a heart attack on April 2nd last year and never came to. He was without oxygen for too long so his brain was dead. Unfortunately it took 2 months for his healthy body to shut down once they fixed his heart (we were unaware he was brain dead initially). So although his last day was technically May 31st, he wasn't really there for the 2 months prior. I used to like the season of spring. It meant rebirth and the anticipation of warm weather and longer days. Now its the opposite. No choice but to get through it.


Hugs. Lots and lots of hugs. With my mom passing shortly before your dad I've already had to deal with this issue. I've decided to not let it be a sad day per se. I try to make it a celebration day. A celebration of her life for my boys. We do things that were gramma's favorite activities and eat her favorite foods. Plus we also visit her grave of course. It has it's somber moments but I try to use it as yet another teaching tool to teach the boys about gramma, how much she loves us and them, and that yeah it sucks too. We'll be celebrating her birthday in a week and a half by having her favorite meal, drawing pictures for her, and going to her grave.


Amy, you and yours are in my thoughts.


Celebrate his life. The good times and memories. It doesn't need to be a sad day even though so often it is.


I needed that video to last about ten minutes longer. Tellyouwhat, just live stream Ike eating something every day and some of us could quit our antidepressant meds?

And related to Wednesday, I pray it goes easy on you and your family, and that you are flooded with good memories to keep you warm on that day.

not supergirl

I'm so sorry, Amy. My Wednesday was in February. February 8 was the the first anniversary of my sister's death. She was 36 years old, and left behind her husband and three young daughters, 7 years, 4 years and 11 months. Yeah, she missed her baby's first birthday. April 8 (Easter, woo hoo) is the first anniversary of my mother-in-law's death. Fuck cancer.
Again, my sumpathy to you and your whole family. I know something about this pain, and I'm sorry that anyone has to have it.


So I'm a long-time lurker here... new to commenting. But I really felt like I needed to today. Just to say, you're not alone... and not in the cheesy Michael Jackson song kind of way either.

You see tomorrow is my 33 birthday-- no big deal-- another year older. But it's also the 20th anniversary of the day my dad died. Lost is battle with lung cancer.

And I just want you to know that you don't have to have the 'right' thing to say or feel or do tomorrow... cause that thing doesn't exist.

I feel differently every year. And not in a 'time heals all wounds' kind of way either cause that is just bullshit. Time doesn't heal it -- nothing heals it. It just feels different.

Just know that your sharing and writing is amazing to read-- whether it's about your dad or your kids or cloth diapering (omg.. please stop. kidding... no, I'm not. yes, I am.)

So I don't really know why I'm writing this other than to say thanks and let tomorrow be whatever it is... and Wednesday will come.

not supergirl

I know how to spell, usually. Watch: S-Y-M-P-A-T-H-Y. Sorry for the dumb spelling in my original comment.
Thinking of you today, and especially tomorrow, and the next day, too, because it will come. Hang in there, and just know that in my opinion there isn't a right way to feel. This just isn't right. That's all there is to it.


The anniversary of my mom's passing was March 1st. I spent the day with the entire neighborhood of kids in my house, made chocolate chip cookies from my mom's favorite cookbook, and made my favorite comfort food that she used to make for me.
It was a bittersweet day. I hope you can have some sweet, too!


Thinking of you and your family today, hoping that being free of that awful first year brings you a little bit more healing.

I lost my mom 3.29.10 to brain cancer. I still really struggle with dates. I ended up hopping a plane and saying goodbye the first time everyone thought "it" was happening, when "it" ended up being a month later. And her emergency surgery/discovery of cancer happened on my dad's 65th birthday, also Thanksgiving day that year. Stupid Thanksgiving and it's inability to pick a damn Thursday. I feel like the ultimate drama queen for finding two times a year to drag out my funk. Thank you for sharing, and making me feel a little less alone.

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