"Ella Minnow Pea" by Mark Dunn

Back in the early 2000s, when I was in my scrapbooking phase, I frequented a wildly popular website/business, owned by a husband-wife team, called Two Peas in a Bucket (defunct since 2014). It was the name of an online store where you could buy scrapbooking supplies and take online classes -- but attached to the retail site was an online community where scrapbookers could share their layouts, ask questions of each other, share tips and techniques and, in the "NSBR" forum ( = Non-ScrapBooking Related), chat about other things. There were some clever usernames, often incorporating the word "Pea" in some way. One user's name that stuck out in my mind was Ella Minnow Pea, which I thought was a rather clever bit of wordplay. 

Perhaps not quite so clever!  What I didn't realize, until many years later, was that "Ella Minnow Pea" is also the name of a book by Mark Dunn, published in 2001.  It's the December selection for my Childless Collective Nomo Book Club (chosen because it's a short book -- under 200 pages -- for a very busy month).  

I'm not sure what I was expecting when I started reading this book. I knew that it was an "epistolary" novel, i.e., the story is told through the exchange of letters.  And for some reason, I was under the impression that it was a humorous novel. 

There IS humour in "Ella Minnow Pea" -- but it would probably be safer to call it a satire. The underlying message it conveys is deadly serious -- perhaps even more so today than when it was first written.   

Our title character, Ella Minnow Pea, 18 years old, lives on the (fictional) island of Nollop, off the coast of South Carolina, where a lack of modern technologies means that residents (including Ella, her parents, her aunt and her cousin Tassie) communicate by letter instead of phone calls or email. Nollop was named after Nevin Nollop, the (fictional) author of the "immortal pangram" (which IS real and known to anyone who ever took a typing class):  "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog." (Pangram = a sentence or phrase that includes all the letters of the alphabet.)  Nollop is a revered figure on the island:  there's a cenotaph in his memory in the centre of the main town of Nollopton, including a statue and the "immortal pangram" inscribed upon it with tile letters. 

One day, the tile with the letter Z drops off the monument. The statue has been in place for more than 100 years;  the logical explanation is that the glue fixing the tiles to the statue's base is loosening. The town council, however, interprets this as a divine sign from the revered Nollop that the letter Z must be excised from the community's vocabulary.  Henceforth, those speaking, writing or reading words containing the letter Z will be swiftly punished -- time in the stocks or a public flogging (!), with multiple transgressions punished by exile or, ultimately, execution. (!!) 

One by one, other letters start dropping off the monument. And, as they disappear from Nollop's vocabulary, they also disappear from the book. 

This book is a word-lovers dream, with an amazing vocabulary. (One description I read called it "a linguistic tour de force.") The residents' contorted efforts to communicate with a rapidly shrinking choice of approved letters and words is funny and clever -- but also horrifying. As the letters disappear, the rights and freedoms of the island's people quickly become more and more restricted, and the governing council becomes more and more totalitarian/dictatorial. Citizens inform on each other and make/receive anonymous death threats, mail is opened and inspected, homes are raided and expropriated, freedom of worship -- aside from the worship of Nollop -- is curtailed. Many flee the island, smuggling letters back & forth to their loved ones who remain.  

The ardent devotion to Nollop may seem ridiculous and cultish -- and probably seemed REALLY ridiculous when this book was written in 2001. 

These days, maybe not quite so much... 

There's a lot to think about here. 

((Very) Mild spoiler alert:  If what I've written has you thinking you'll take a pass on this book, I'll just say that the ending is fairly upbeat.)  

4 stars on Goodreads. 

This was Book #43 read to date in 2023 (and Book #3 finished in November), bringing me to 96% of my 2023 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 45 books. I am (for the moment, anyway...!) 3 books ahead of schedule. :)  You can find reviews of all my books read to date in 2023 tagged as "2023 books."  

Post-birthday odds & ends

• Thank you for your birthday wishes (here and elsewhere). :)  Despite the fact that I was turning 60 (!) -- and wasn't on a beach somewhere, as I had hoped/planned (or doing much of anything else, because of COVID-19...!) -- it was a nice day. We went to the bank in the morning and stopped at the supermarket on the way home to pick up some of our favourite soup & pizza slices for lunch (the first time we'd had some since March!), as well as cupcakes for later, in lieu of a whole birthday cake (my request -- red velvet with cream cheese icing). 
• Turns out I could have skipped the cupcakes -- a group of online friends that I've known for 15-20 years arranged to have a box of half a dozen pastries from a local bakery delivered to my door that afternoon. They also organized a Zoom call to wish me a happy birthday later that evening. We got to know each other on several different scrapbooking forums, following each other from one site to another, and I've met most of them "in real life" too. Not all of us scrapbook these days, but the friendships remain. :)  
• Out of the 8 of us currently together on a Facebook group, there's just me and one other woman (who turned 60 last year) who are childless. At one point during our Zoom call, all the moms started talking about what their kids were doing for school (remote or in person or a combination thereof? how many classes per term? etc. etc.) -- and between that and all the wine I was drinking, I just about went to sleep (lol).  Then one of them said, "Hey, it's Lori's birthday and we're all talking about ourselves!"  Ummm, yeah!  (lol) It was the first time we'd tried a Zoom call, so everyone had a lot to catch up on -- I realize it was NOT all about me, even if it WAS my birthday -- but...! 
• Our favourite Italian restaurant was closed for kitchen renovations (!), but we got takeout from another favourite local restaurant. (This is the same Italian restaurant that was closed on our wedding anniversary last summer, and the same restaurant we wound up ordering dinner from that day too.)   
• My parents & sister called me, and my childhood best friend -- who doesn't do social media & is not that great about keeping in touch otherwise -- actually emailed me, which totally made my day. We don't see or hear from each other often these days, but whenever we are in touch, it's like we just saw each other yesterday, and we pick up where we left off. :) 
• The same day as my birthday, the premier announced a new state of emergency and mandatory stay-at-home order for the next 28 days, adding further restrictions to the current lockdown that began at Christmastime. A friend noted this "present" when she emailed to wish me a happy birthday. I told her a stay-at-home order is better than insurrection at the Capitol, which is what my (American) mom got last week for her 80th birthday...! (or a multi-pronged terrorist attack, which is what my sister got for her 39th birthday on 9-11-01...!). 
• The day before my birthday, we made the long drive down Yonge Street (Toronto's "main street," which divides the city into east and west sides) to our midtown dentist's office for cleanings and checkups. We hadn't been there since this time last year: our next scheduled appointments in July were cancelled because of COVID-19;  we later rescheduled for mid-November, but I rescheduled (again) so as not to jeopardize my scheduled diagnostic d&c. 
• Both of us were slightly nervous to be at the dentist's during a pandemic -- but I didn't want to wait too long for a checkup... plus, the tea stains on my teeth were embarrassing. (Not that I've been many places for people to see them... and I'm generally wearing a mask when I'm out anyway...!)
• The extra precautions they've taken were pretty impressive:  masks all round (of course), a virtual waiting room outside and a socially distanced one inside, plexiglass barriers and plenty of hand sanitizer in the reception area, treatment cubicles sealed off from each other with plastic sheeting and special air purifier/filter units in each one. The hygienists were not allowed to polish our teeth -- creates too many aerosols, apparently -- but mine promised she'd do her best to scrape off as much of the stains as she could, and she did a fabulous job. 
• It ultimately turned out to be a good thing we went when we did:  my X-rays showed a small cavity developing below one of my oldest crowns. (I must admit I was flabbergasted -- I had no idea such a thing could happen.)  So I'm going back in a few weeks' time to have the crown removed, the cavity filled, a new temporary crown made and fitted, and then again a few weeks after that to have the permanent crown installed. (Again. UGH.)  I guess it's better than waiting too long and winding up with a root canal...?!  
• I was sad to see how many more empty storefronts there were on Yonge Street along the way since the last time we drove down there last summer. :(   A sign of how the pandemic is negatively affecting businesses (both big & small) and restaurants. :(  

Reflecting on your COVID-19 experience

Today is National Scrapbooking Day, and even though I haven't scrapbooked a page in well over 10 years (cough)(not that you'd know it from all the scrapbooking supplies I STILL have stashed in my closet & condo storage locker...!)(double cough!), I still follow several of the scrapbookers I got to know & admire during the heyday of the crafting craze.  One of them, Stacy Julian, will be teaching a Facebook Live class TONIGHT on telling your COVID-19 story.  Details on the class (if you're interested) can be found here. 

In preparation for the class, Stacy included 15 questions/prompts to help scrapbookers think about what they want to include in a small scrapbook about their pandemic experience. It occurred to me that these might make good blogging prompts too. :) 

• When was the moment you knew this was serious. Where were you and what happened?
• Looking back now, is there one particular news article or story that stands out to you?
• What was the first meme that caused you to laugh out loud?
• What have you observed in your community that has been heart-warming?
• What has been the biggest change to your everyday routine?
• How has family life been altered in your home?
• What have you learned to do because of this pandemic?
• What change has created the most disappointment for you?
• What has surprised you?
• What has not surprised you?
• What about the future creates feelings of worry or fear?
• What have you truly enjoyed about sheltering in place?
• Who or what has impressed you in a positive way?
• What will you do differently when life normalizes?
• What memory or moment will talk about in ten years? 

I will think about doing a future blog post to answer some or all of these questions. Let me know if you do too;  I would love to read your answers!

The non-mom stays in the picture too

This post has its genesis in a recent essay on Huffington Post called "The Mom Stays in the Picture" by Allison Tate. At a party, Tate's young son asks her to come into a photo booth with him. Like so many women, Tate demurs:

When I see myself in pictures, it makes me wince. I know I am far from alone; I know that many of my friends also avoid the camera.   

It seems logical. We're sporting mama bodies and we're not as young as we used to be. We don't always have time to blow dry our hair, apply make-up, perhaps even bathe (ducking). The kids are so much cuter than we are; better to just take their pictures, we think.    

But we really need to make an effort to get in the picture. Our sons need to see how young and beautiful and human their mamas were. Our daughters need to see us vulnerable and open and just being ourselves -- women, mamas, people living lives. Avoiding the camera because we don't like to see our own pictures? How can that be okay?  

Too much of a mama's life goes undocumented and unseen....  

[Ed. note: Tate then goes on to detail all the many things that moms do that go unnoticed, undocumented and unappreciated.]      

I'm everywhere in their young lives, and yet I have very few pictures of me with them. Someday I won't be here -- and I don't know if that someday is tomorrow or thirty or forty or fifty years from now -- but I want them to have pictures of me. I want them to see the way I looked at them, see how much I loved them. I am not perfect to look at and I am not perfect to love, but I am perfectly their mother.

The essay got a huge response, summarized by Lisa Belkin, HuffPo parenting columnist ("Moms Explain Why They're Getting Back in the Picture").

And it got me thinking.

OK, I'll admit, Tate's litany of mommy stuff had the non-mom in me wincing. 

But -- I thought she had a good point, and one that, if you look closely enough, is relevant for all women and not just those who are mothers.

Even though I don't have (living) children of my own, I could relate to a lot in Tate's essay. As I've written before in this blog, my grandmother gave me my first camera for Christmas when I was 15 (a Kodak Instamatic X-15 with flipflash!) and I've always loved taking photos and looking through family photo albums. I'm acknowledged as "the family photographer" (for both my family & dh's). BIL & SIL freely admit that they wouldn't have any photos of their kids growing up if it weren't for me, and I've scrapbooked a couple of albums for our nephews.

As an occasional scrapbooker (VERY occasional lately...!), this is a subject that comes up every now & then on scrapbooking message boards, blogs and magazines. We take tons & tons of photos of our kids (or, if we don't have kids, someone else's kids -- nieces, nephews, children of friends) -- even more so today than we did even just 10 years ago, with digital photography. These days, just about every cellphone comes equipped with a camera, essentially putting a camera in just about every purse or pocket --  & the quality has been getting better & better. The camera included in the latest iPhones shoots something like 8 megapixels, which is exactly what my own four-year-old point-and-shoot digital camera takes.

So the number of photos we've been taking has increased exponentially.  But where are the photos of US?  Like many adult women, I prefer to lurk behind the camera, rather than in front of it.  I look at photos of myself with a highly critical eye, noticing how round and puffy my face is, groaning over my double chin & the sun damage on my cheeks, or shaking my head over what a gawdawful perm I had in 1992.

(My grandma -- the same one who gave me the camera -- had a solution for photos of herself that she didn't like -- long before Photoshop, she simply took a pair of scissors & cropped herself out of the picture. I still run across the occasional snapshot with a corner chopped out, & I know exactly who's missing and why...!)

Fortunately, I still have many wonderful photos of Grandma.  ; ) But I've read heartbreaking stories about someone suddenly taken from their family... and then the search begins through the photo albums for pictures to put on the bulletin board or slide show at the funeral home, or just to bring the loved one closer again. Too often, especially if it's a woman, there just aren't many to be found.

Throughout the ages, women's lives generally have been discounted and overlooked.  Too often, we are invisible in the history books (the old argument about "history" versus "herstory").  Thankfully, this is starting to change. The advent of computers, digital photography, and the Internet have made it so much easier for women to show and tell their the stories of their lives.

And if a woman's life is just a worthy of documentation as a man's, and if it's important for moms to document their lives with their children, then surely our lives and memories are worthy of preserving, too.  In fact, I would argue that it might be even MORE important for those of us who AREN'T moms to do so. 

The life of a mom has a fairly predictable pattern and rhythm... but anyone who is childless/free for whatever reason knows there are an awful lot of misconceptions out there about what our lives are like and how we spend our time. I know (from personal experience as well as anecdotes from others) that many of us who are childless/free and scrapbook (and we ARE out there) get asked, in genuine (if maddening) puzzlement, why and what we scrapbook, if we don't have kids (cue the grinding teeth). 

People need to know that we lead full, interesting and fulfilling lives -- lives that are worth documenting too -- and, as the old saying goes, a picture can be worth a thousand words.

So, since I became aware of this issue a couple of years ago, I've been making more of a conscious effort to hand the camera over to someone else once in awhile and have them take a photo of dh & me together... or me with our nephews... or me & SIL together (we have dozens of photos of the men in our family together -- and while it's nice to have some generational shots, I've started insisting that we get our fair share of camera bytes!)... or even (gulp) me by myself.  While I have yet to master the art of holding a camera at arm's length to take a decent self-portrait, I have read my camera's manual and learned how to use the self-timer, for those times when I'd like a photo of myself, or of dh & me together, and there's nobody else around.

A few years ago, I decided it was time to set aside the nephews' albums for awhile and do some scrapbooking for and about... me.  Or, perhaps more accurately, me and dh.  The plan was to complete an anniversary album, in time for our 25th wedding anniversary (in July 2010), including a layout of photo and journaling highlights for each year of our marriage, as well as a couple detailing our dating days and our wedding.  Like so many of my projects, I had great intentions, but it hasn't progressed much past the wedding pages....!  But at least I started making the effort. Someday, I hope to get back to it....

Sometimes I wonder whether this reluctance to appear in front of the camera might be a generational thing... I'm thinking about how today's kids have grown up with a camera in their face (and now, in their hands) all the time. Teenaged and 20-something girls take tons of photos of themselves and their friends and post them, seemingly (to me) with little or no hesitation, on their Facebook pages and Twitter feeds. Will they still be as eager to pose for the camera as they start focusing their photographic efforts on their kids (assuming they have them), enter their 30s & 40s & beyond, and confront the inevitable process of aging (believe me girls, it happens to the best of us...!)?  Time will tell...

Of course, there are times these days, since the advent of easy digital photography and videography, when it seems like everyone is frantically trying to capture every single moment of the day.  Sometimes you have to just put down the camera, and LIVE.  : )

What do you think?  Do you hide when someone brings out a camera?  Is this a mom thing, or does it apply to other women too?

If you disappeared tomorrow, what sort of photographic record would remain of your life?

In the closet

No, the title isn't necessarily a comment on my public/private infertility status. ; )

I recently had some old negatives scanned, & came across some photos I took of my maternity wardrobe. These were taken in the fall of 2001 -- three years after the clothes had last been worn, not long after we made the decision not to return to fertility treatments, knowing they very likely would not be worn again.

I was newly enthralled with scrapbooking and finding new photo inspiration everywhere I turned. I had it my head to do a scrapbook for Katie (which is about as far as the idea has ever progressed....!). The lack of photos from my pregnancy bothered me -- still does. While people weren't taking pregnancy photos like they do today (never mind posting them on the Internet), I always thought I would keep a pregnancy journal, take some photos along the way.  I'm not sure why I didn't. I guess one reason is that I'm always the one behind the camera, taking photos of other people.  And perhaps on some level, I was trying to protect myself, not invest too much in this pregnancy. It seemed so tentative for so long (well, almost the entire pregnancy).

As a result, I have exactly two photos of myself pregnant -- one newly pregnant, holding congratulatory balloon bouquet; the other taken by our nephew at his birthday party, just a few days before I went for that fateful six-month ob-gyn appointment. (There is also a photo of me, a few weeks post-pregnancy, wearing one of my maternity T-shirts.)  It did occur to me that I needed to take some photos of myself pregnant -- but my parents were coming to visit in late August, & I planned to model some of my maternity clothes for my mom then, and have her take some photos she could show to my grandparents. The best laid plans... 

After Katie's stillbirth, I was sad that I didn't have any photos of myself in my pretty maternity clothes. To put them on after the fact & pose for pictures, though, seemed weird and... well... fake. Not to mention too, too sad to even think about.

But one day, perhaps after reading something in a scrapbooking magazine, I had the brilliant idea of hanging up each item on the bedroom door & taking a photo of each outfit. And, since this blog has become a pregnancy scrapbook of sorts ; ) I have shared those photos below.

I bought most of my maternity clothes at Thyme Maternity at the local mall, and also a few items from Elegant Expectations, a small boutique near my office, where I went shopping with another pregnant coworker (who had a baby girl that October). I still have the receipts & tags from most of them. : )

I had a few more blouses that were loaned to me by another coworker. I returned them to her on my first day back at work, & so don't have any photos of them.

I work in a corporate environment (think Wall Street). Everyday business casual hadn't yet taken off, so I bought a lot of pants, blouses and dresses I could wear at work.

Fashions back then not quite as snug/revealing as they are today... (the term "baby bump" had not yet been coined -- thank God!!). A couple of the dresses were ones regular dresses that I just bought in an extra large size.

They're all still hanging in my closet.

 This ivory blouse was one of my first maternity purchases. There's a pair of black or navy maternity pants underneath.

This was another one of my original purchases on that first trip to Thyme with my mom. I actually wound up not liking it very much. Navy silky fabric. I felt like I was in uniform, or maybe pajamas. :p  

A couple of basic cotton T shirts that served me well. I had a couple of tank tops & a few pairs of shorts (not photographed) too. I used to wear the shorts around the house while cleaning, post-pregnancy. They were so comfortable! ; )

A tank top.

My mother bought this denim-look dress for me (extra-large size) at a flea market when she came out to visit me shortly after I announced my pregnancy. I wore it the day she & I went to see "Titanic."

A long cotton dress, size XL, that I bought at Cotton Ginny (a now-defunct Canadian chain). Looked nice when worn with a blazer.

One of my favourite maternity blouses, with a pair of pants hanging underneath. Kind of a burlap-like fabric, oatmeal colour.

Same blouse, but in black, with tan pants hanging underneath.

Navy plaid blouse -- got a lot of wear out of this, with navy pants.

This blouse looks kind hideous here -- but it was actually quite pretty on me. It was probably one of my more expensive buys, from Elegant Expectations. Kind of a Chinese collar.

Loved this plum coloured dress;  wore it a lot to work, under a blazer. I planned to wear this to dh's cousin's engagement party in June, but it was so cold, I wound up wearing the oatmeal burlapy blouse with black pants & a black blazer.

Another dress from Elegant Expectations. I really didn't need another dress, but I loved it and it was on sale. I thought I might wear it to my baby shower in September (which never took place).

These two cotton twill floral print "onesies/rompers" were such fun to wear in the summer. I got a lot of use out of them. 

This is the outfit I wore for that fateful six-month appointment at Dr. Ob-gyn's. :( One of my favourites. The top was a rather thick, stretchy rib knit fabric. The pants were non-maternity wear, navy drawstring palazzo pants with tiny flowers on them that I bought in an extra-large size at Fairweather. I got a lot of wear out of them throughout my pregnancy, and I wore them for a long, long time after my pregnancy ended. They were soooo comfortable & cool to wear in the summer heat (& one of the few things I could wear after the pounds didn't drop off the way I had hoped. I finally had to throw them out when they developed holes in the inside thigh section, because they had worn so thin.

I wore this navy gingham dress to Katie's funeral. :(  

30 Posts in 30 Days: Day 20: A hobby of yours

I first heard about scrapbooking from my mother in the late 1990s, I think. I used to keep scrapbooks filled with newspaper clippings, ticket stubs & programs from events I'd attended. I've always loved taking photos (meticulously labelled & put into photo albums -- although I'm several years behind on that at the moment...!), writing and recording family history, and I've always had a passion for pretty coloured paper & pens, lol. ; )

My mom knew this, & told me that the daughter of a friend of hers was selling supplies through home parties to make these amazing photo albums. She gave me one of her brochures (it was Creative Memories) & I tucked it away, thinking I should really look into this sometime.

In the spring of 2001, I stumbled onto a copy of Scrapbooks Etc. on the newsstand. This took what I'd seen in the brochure my mom had given to a whole new level. I was intrigued. This was something I knew I'd like to do. But where to buy supplies? How to get started? I find I feel most comfortable trying new things when someone shows me what to do. In April 2002, I wound up taking a one-night introductory course at the local community centre, hosted by a local Creative Memories representative.

Around that time, I was at the meeting of our pregnancy loss support group. We were having a "memento sharing" evening, where we talk about how to preserve our memories of our babies & share the keepsakes that we have. I mentioned scrapbooking & that I'd heard there were actually entire stores in the States that were devoted to this hobby. "There's one in [neighbouring town]," one of the other women told me. Really??!

I'll never forget the first time I walked into that store. It was an overwhelming, amazing experience -- like a kid being let loose in a candy store. ; ) I wound up going to a "crop" there a few months later, & although I have been in a bit of a slump recently, I have been scrapbooking ever since then.

On the face of it, scrapbooking may seem like a strange sort of hobby for a childless woman. It's such a mommy-dominated hobby, and if you look at any of the scrapbooking magazines or websites, cute kids predominate in the layouts that are shared. I've definitely felt left out sometiems at crops when the women around me talk nonstop about their kids (& sometimes ignore me after I say I don't have any). I've actually had people ask me why I scrapbook if I don't have kids, & if I don't have kids, then what do I scrapbook? (!)

My original idea was that I was going to make a scrapbook for Katie. But I knew I needed some pratice first (because this, of all albums, must be PERFECT, right??). Katie's album is still untouched, but I have completed several albums of baby & toddler photos for our two nephews, & a big fat album as a graduation gift for Parent's Neighbours' Daughter. (You can always scrapbook other people's kids if you don't have your own, lol.)

But of course, there is so much else you can scrapbook besides kids -- friends, holidays, your wedding, yourself. I know many people who have started a "Book of Me" as a diversion from scrapbooking their kids. Last fall, I started doing a "Book of Us," covering our days at school, our wedding, & then one spread for each year we've been married, including the best photos of us & journalling about the main things that happened to us that year & how we spent our anniversary. The idea was that I would have the album finished in time for our 25th anniversary. Our anniversary was in July, & I'm still finishing the wedding pages. Oh well!

For about two years, I actually got together with a group of friends from our pregnancy loss group one evening a month to scrapbook. We took turns hosting & providing snacks & drinks. I was the only one who didn't have a living child, but we all shared the bond of loss & enjoyed each other's company. Some of us were more into scrapbooking than others, of course, and eventually, a few people moved away, a few had subsequent babies & got busy, & gradually, our group disbanded. We still see each other & connect on Facebook, & I still consider those women some of my dearest friends. : )

Scrapbooking is a great way to capture your memories, preserve your family stories, show off some of your favourite photos, & indulge your creative spirit. Playing with pretty paper and glue makes me feel like I'm back in grade school sometimes. It can sometimes be frustrating when what lands on the page doesn't match the image in my head, but it's also satisfying to finish a spread, or an entire album. : )

The layout above is one of the wedding pages from our anniversary album.

Here comes the bride...

My parents moved into a new home in a new town in the spring of 1984, shortly before I arrived home from grad school. I wound up living with them and working locally for the next 14 months while I planned my wedding to dh.

The neighbours across the street had two small boys -- AND a new baby girl -- a real cutie with strawberry blond hair, big, long-lashed blue eyes and a rosebud mouth. Little boys I couldn't quite relate to, but a little girl -- well, THAT, my family had experience with. We were all quite taken with her.

Almost as soon as she could walk, she was toddling over to our house to play. We'd watch her from the living room window as she tromped through snowdrifts & stomped on every frozen puddle along the way, lol. My mom dusted off the ancient high chair that had belonged to me & my sister, as well as our old toys & books. My dad would give her piggy back rides and build tents with her, as he had done with me & my sister and our cousins, and my mom would sit on the stairs with her & "play cards," helping her learn her numbers by reading the numbers on the cards & counting the number of aces or hearts on them. As she got older, she loved to join in our family's card & board games (still does!).

When dh & I arrived home for our first married Christmas, Parents' Neighbours' Daughter (PND) was the guest of honour on Christmas Day, resplendent in purple velveteen, and was showered with gifts. Eventually, she got her own stocking under the tree at our house. She would come over for dinner on Christmas Eve and then back again the next morning to open presents with us, after opening gifts with her own family. Sometimes the other members of her family would come over too (we'd have small gifts for them too). She hasn't always been able to make it on one day or the other, but to this day, some time during Christmas week, she will stop by for dinner, open her gifts and play cards with us.

Christmas 1998 was a difficult one for my family, reeling from the loss of both my baby & my beloved grandfather, who had spent every single Christmas with us, no matter where we lived. PND, then 14, was a godsend, giving us something else to focus on and lending our family a much-needed dose of holiday spirit.

When I started scrapbooking in 2002, one of my first projects was to make a scrapbook as a high school graduation gift for PND (something only a clueless beginner would take on...! lol). I had so many cute photos of her from almost day one to share. It was a labour of love. The scrapbook eventually became a gargantuan project (I actually wound up giving her the first part for graduation & the rest of the pages as I finished them). A scrapbooker herself, she was flabbergasted when she opened the package. "I can't believe you did this for me," she said, giving me a big hug. Everyone -- her parents, my parents -- got misty-eyed looking through the pages.

She once called me her "role model." She forever endeared herself to me when my mother told me a story: in conversation with little PND, my mother once said, "We all know who's the REAL boss around here" (meaning herself, joking). PND nodded solemnly & said, "Lori." lol

When PND was little, she referred to my parents as her best friends. When she got older and went to school, she started making friends her own age, but she would still come over to watch TV, help my mother make cookies and wrap Christmas presents, etc., albeit with less frequency. When PND's parents & brothers moved away, after she was finished high school, she spent one summer living with my parents. She continued to live in the town where she'd grown up on her own, work part-time and commute into the city to go to school, an hour away. She started going out with Fiancé four years ago, & eventually moved in with him.

This week, she called dh & me (& tickled us both hugely by doing so) to tell us the big news -- she's engaged!! The community hall is already booked for the Victoria Day long weekend in May.

So -- on top of my 25th wedding anniversary, my parents 50th & a family reunion next summer, I've also got to set aside time to fly home in May for a few days for her wedding. (eek) Needless to say, wild horses wouldn't keep me away.

It is bittersweet to think of PND getting married. I keep thinking "She's too young!" -- but she will actually be 26 by the time of the wedding. I was 24. (yikes) She has one more year of school left -- she's going to be a teacher (& she will be a great one, too).

I remember when we had a big party to celebrate my dad's 50th birthday. PND was 6 years old then. My aunts wanted to take a family photo. "I'm part of the family too," PND piped up. "Yes, I guess you are!" my mom said, laughing, & welcomed her into the photo.

And she is. My parents have sometimes referred to her as "the honorary grandchild." She certainly helped fill my parents' empty nest after my sister & I had left home, & took (some of) the pressure off dh & me as newlyweds on the grandchild front.

My sister has referred to her as "our little sister" (and you can almost hear the air quotes as she says it). I don't know exactly how to label our relationship. I know I am old enough to be her mother, but it's hard to imagine myself having a daughter that old.

All I do know is that I feel so lucky & privileged to have had this girl in my family's life (and grateful to her own family for sharing her with us). I may never have had a living child of my own to parent… but I've played a part in PND's life and been able to watch her grow up into a beautiful & accomplished young woman. I will never see my own little girl dressed in bridal white, walking down the aisle, but I will be there when PND does. My parents may never have their own grandchildren, but they have watched PND grow up and have played a significant role in her life. The geographic distances between us being what they are, I know they have spent far more time with PND than they ever could have with any grandchildren I ever could have given them.

We are all so very proud of her.

And I know that I'm going to be a blubbering mess next May 22nd.

Scrapbooking your grief

Some of you know that -- odd as it may seem for a woman without children -- one of my favourite pasttimes & creative outlets (besides this blog, lol) is scrapbooking.

I've made scrapbooks for my parents' neighbours' daughter, my nephews, and I recently started an anniversary scrapbook for dh & me that I hope (hope!) will be finished by or around our 25th wedding anniversary next year.

I've always intended to someday (someday) make a scrapbook for Katie and chronicle our loss journey since then. I have a Rubbermaid box full of Classic Pooh papers, punches & stamps (some of them sent to me by my dear cyberfriend Julia S, some years ago) and a Classic Pooh s scrapbook album, as well as lots of butterfly-themed embellishments. But I haven't. Yet.

I just learned about a new blog that may be a good prod for me in that direction. It's focused on healing grief & loss (of all kinds) through scrapbooking.

Any other lossmama scrapbookers out there? Check it out!

Scrapbook THIS...

Where: scrapbook store

What: scrapbooking & chatting for 12 straight hours : )

When: yesterday

Who: me and six other women, including my retired coworker friend, the two store owners and a starry-eyed, thirtysomething newly engaged bride-to-be, who expressed her intention to ttc right away ("the clock is ticking!").

One of the women was working on a heritage album & had a late 19th/early 20th century funeral picture of a dead toddler in a casket. This prompted a conversation about the "bizarre" practice of funeral photography, of photos of dead family members propped up in group shots with the living, of family members gathered around caskets.

I surprised myself by speaking up: "But you know, they are starting to do things like that again. There was a documentary on CBC before Christmas about families whose children are at Sick Kids Hospital and not likely to survive. There's an organization called Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep that sends volunteer photographers to hospitals to take pictures of these children and their families. They take photos of stillborn babies, too. Beautiful, Anne Geddes-type photos. And it's all free to the families."

Several of the women: "Oh, I don't think I'd want that" & other similar comments.

Bride to Be: "My uncle has MS, & I'm not going to take any more pictures of him now. I want to remember him the way he was."

Me: "But what if these were the only photographs you were ever going to have of that person?"

Silence, & looks that showed this thought had never occurred to these people. I guess I made my point. The conversation moved on.

My friend & the two store owners know about my loss. Another friend (from my pg loss support group) & I approached the store owners about donations for the Sick Kids scrapbooking program. Word has spread, & one of the owners (who has personal reasons to visit Sick Kids every few months) takes a box full of donations from the store and its customers when she goes to the hospital to our contact, the NICU bereavement coordinator, who was featured in the CBC documentary. (What sort of photos do they think these parents are taking & scrapbooking at the hospital, & why? Do they think that every one of those families gets to take their kids home with them?)

I was the first to leave that evening & am wondering whether they mentioned anything after I left. Or (more likely) whether the conversation had already been forgotten.

*** *** ***

Coincidentally, this week's issue of Newsweek includes a story about stillbirth and Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, including a web-extra story about NILM. Thanks to CLC for pointing this out on her blog.

Odds & ends...

I've had lots of little things flit through my head lately as "stuff I could blog about" but never enough inspiration for one grand post. So this is post is a bit of a brain-dump...!

It's been a busy (and very cold!!) couple of weeks around here. I am thoroughly sick of winter. And it's not even February yet! It was still a little bit light outside when we arrived home from work tonight & I can't tell you what a spirit-booster that was. Never mind that it was freezing cold outside, lol. A little sunshine can make the coldest day more tolerable.

FIL turned 80 last week & we went there on Saturday night to celebrate. BIL & family were there, and so was stepBIL & his wife and the new baby. He slept most of the time we were there, so it was not all about him.

Our gift to FIL (with BIL & family) was a digital picture frame, which I loaded up with about 175 digital photos I've taken over the past few years... mostly of the nephews, but some of dh & me too (why not?). I was also going through old photos of dh & me & pulling negatives to get some reprints done. I've decided to set aside the nephews' scrapbooks for the time being & work on an us/anniversary album, with the goal of having it finished in time for our 25th wedding anniversary in 2010. There will be a few pages with photos of us covering from the time we met through to our wedding, & then a spread for each year that we've been married, with photos & journalling covering the highlights.

Going through all those photos, both for the digital frame & to start the scrapbook, was a more emotional task than I thought it would be -- seeing how young we both were (not to mention skinny!!), so fresh-faced & full of hope and excitement about the future. I love scrapbooking, but I sometimes find myself getting strangely stressed about it. Part of it is because I'm a perfectionist (I've procrastinated on doing an album for Katie because, of course, THIS album HAS to be perfect!!) & I get very focused on what I'm doing -- & frustrated when the page on the table winds up looking nothing like the page I had in my head.

And of course, it can be hard to be scrapping photos of your nephews, or yourself, while all around you people are scrapping their babies. I try not to let it get to me & just enjoy the creative process, but I think it does get to me sometimes, at least on a subconscious level.

I like to think I'm a laid-back sort of person, but the truth is I have a lot of anxiety issues. I like to think I've only been that way over the past 10 years, but when I think back, I've had problems with anxiety all my life. Moving frequently, always being the new girl (not to mention the "brainy" new girl), being shy and desperately wanting to fit in will do that to you. I was never assertive enough to stand up to bullies, from the elementary schoolyard taunters to the bitchy roommates I had in grad school (I still have nightmares about that situation sometimes).

I haven't had a full-blown anxiety attack in at least seven years now (knocking wood...!), but it seems like I just get one issue or worry resolved, & something else almost immediately pops up to take its place. I find that, over the past 10 years, I've gotten hypersensitive about my health, in a way that I don't remember prior to loss & infertility. I think part of that is because pregnancy & infertility makes you hyperaware of your body & what it's doing & how you're feeling. And, of course, you become acutely aware of how fragile the human body can be & how quickly things can change and go wrong.

I think I need to get back to a yoga class. I need to practice focusing my mind & relaxing.

First the kids, now the grandkids...

I spent Saturday at a "crop" at an area scrapbook store with about 12 other women. As I've written before, it seems like an odd hobby for a childless woman (dominated as it is by mommies) -- but I still enjoy it, although the mommy talk does tend to get stifling now & then (depending on who I am sitting with). The majority of the women at this particular crop were actually older, more like my own mother's age, & I was having a good time.

It does seem like there's always at least one "ouch" moment at every crop, though, & this one was no exception. At one point, everyone started talking about their grandchildren & how great it was to be a grandparent. Someone brought up the old bumper sticker slogan, "If I knew grandchildren were this much fun, I'd have had them first," & even one of the younger women (whose kids are probably still in grade school!) said that oh, she just couldn't wait to be a grandparent someday!

Just a reminder (that I didn't need) that infertility is the gift that keeps on giving. :(

Odds & ends

Today is dh's 51st birthday. Birthdays have never been a big deal in his family (probably more so since his mother passed away), unless it's a biggie like 40 or 50 (& sometimes not even then). He & I generally exchange cards, go out for dinner & visit the local megabookstore for a browse & a Starbucks. We went to a local western-style steakhouse chain tonight for dinner & it was really almost perfect -- food was hot, didn't take long to come, steak was done just the way I like it & not too much fat on it. Yum!

We thought we'd go see FIL tomorrow night, since it is dh's birthday & we haven't been over there in a couple of weekends. But when dh called over there earlier this week, stepMIL told him they'd be at her youngest son's tomorrow, celebrating HIS birthday (which is exactly 10 years later & one day earlier than dh's). StepBIL, of course, besides being stepMIL's son, is also the daddy-to-be I mentioned a few weeks back. StepMIL was raving on about how well the latest ultrasound went, how big the baby is getting, it's a boy!! etc. etc. (due in late August/early September) I really can't blame the woman -- she has four kids in their 40s & this will be her one & only grandchild -- she's waited a loooonnnggg time for this. But I couldn't help but feel bad for dh, being overshadowed like that. :( (So of course I'm sitting up here on the computer while he's downstairs watching TV...! But then, it's a Discovery Channel show on rocket science, which he loves (seriously), so I don't feel so bad...!)

There's a scrapbooking convention this weekend in a city about 1.5-2 hours away -- about 20 girls from a board I belong to are going to be getting together there -- one girl even flew in from the west coast & two from the east coast!! I decided not to go, for several reasons -- but dh's birthday was a big one, & I'm glad now that I stayed home to spoil him a little.

*** *** ***

After reading how Mel at Stirrup Queens rhapsodized over her Google Reader a few weeks ago, I set one up for myself. It took a little figuring out, but I now have (gulp) 120 blogs on my reader (& haven't finished adding all of them, either). About 45% related to infertility & pregnancy loss, 45% related to scrapbooking and 10% assorted others. My Google Reader blog list is actually larger than the blog list here -- I need to add a few from here. Also, there are a few listed here that don't seem to have a readable feed? -- Google Reader just doesn't want to pick them up, for some reason. I just have to try to remember which ones they are & click in on them more often. Anyway, great invention, & I'm glad I took the plunge!

*** *** ***

Speaking of Mel -- two of my posts this week -- this one here and this one here -- were mentioned in her weekly Friday blog roundup today, which I think is just about the ultimate compliment that any infertility blogger can get. I'm tickled!

Two great causes Mel is promoting through her blog: March of Dimes and UTERUS, an initiative to raise funds to help women within our IF community. I have yet to figure out the payment intricacies to donate to either cause (insert red-faced icon here) but thought the least I could do was give them a plug.

And Monday we'll be posting about the latest book in the Barren B*tches Book Brigade, "The Mistress's Daughter" by A.M. Homes. I really enjoyed this book & will be working on the questions this weekend -- looking forward to seeing what everyone else thought!

I'm sure there was some other stuff I've been meaning to blog about, little bits & pieces that don't quite warrant a post in themselves, but that's all I can think of for now. Off to spend some time with the birthday boy!


Take Back the U.T.E.R.U.S.

Who knew??

Who knew it was so great to be childless?

Every now & then (like today, lol), in search of undiscovered new blog treasures, I will Google Blog terms such as "childfree infertility" and "childless." The latter term invariably turns up posts by parents who, giddily, gleefully, announce themselves as "childless." As in "MIL took the kids, so we're childless for the weekend, woohoo!" (I made that line up, but it's pretty close to some of the ones I've seen.)

Good grief -- we're already sharing the "childfree" label with the childfree (by choice) crowd (and being lumped together with them by fertiles who don't know there's a difference) -- now we have to share "childless" with people who actually do have kids, but think that not having them (once in awhile, anyway) is a peachy-keen thing.

OK, I can understand the desire to escape from the responsibilities of parenthood for a little while now & then. And yes, parents deserve a break now & then.

But think, people, THINK, before tossing out a term like "childless" as you're celebrating. Your so-called "childlessness" can only be considered a good thing because it is temporary. Your brief escape is my permanent reality. Would any/many of these parents willingly give up their children & trade places with my dh & me? (I don't think so.)

This reminds me of an incident that took place five or six years ago, after dh & I had made the decision not to continue treatment & pursue a childless/free future. I had joined several Internet boards, including one for women like me who found themselves childless, although not by original choice. Another, for scrapbookers, reflected my interest in scrapbooking (despite the hobby's close association with all things mommy-related).

One day, I stumbled on a post by a scrapbooker who, much like the example above, was celebrating the fact that she was "childless" for the weekend. This was the first time I had ever heard the term being used in this way, & to say it stung was an understatement. I fretted & fumed about it for a day or two, and then did something that I didn't realize at the time was a no-no. I vented about it -- not on the scrapbooking board, but on my childless living board. I figured I was safe among friends who would understand how I was feeling.

Maybe a little too well, as it turned out. One of the other women on the childless board was also a scrapbooker who frequented the same scrapbooking board. She took it upon herself to head over to the scrapbooking board & tell them I had read this post & was very hurt by it, and to please use some consideration in the future.

To say all hell broke loose would be an understatement. Both the other woman & myself were pilloried. Oh, they felt soooo sorry for us and our childlessness -- they took great pains to point that out -- but how dare we suggest they didn't have the right to talk about their children, etc. etc. etc. Some of their members even came over to our childless living board to leave nasty comments. I remember feeling almost literally sick to my stomach as I watched the "conversation" unfold, hour by hour. Basically, the two of us were treated like trolls and made to feel totally unwelcome (although there were one or two brave souls who had also experienced loss & infertility and spoke up in our defense, about how difficult it was to deal with infertility in an unthinking, child-obsessed world). I don't think either of us posted there again.

Then, of course, there are those women who have been ttc for, oh, maybe three months without success and declare themselves "infertile"... but perhaps that's fodder for another post!

Echoes from yesteryear

Dh & I spent the afternoon at his brother's house, celebrating our oldest nephew (V.)'s 19th -- 19th!!! -- birthday. The years have passed so swiftly. 

Two things especially brought this home today. First, I gave V. the scrapbook I've been labouring over for the past two years, containing photos of his first year.

And second, BIL recently had all their home videos transferred to DVD -- so we spent most of the afternoon transported back in time, watching our two nephews as sweet, adorable babies & toddlers, growing up all over again right before our eyes. It was hard to believe those cute little boys were now the tall (both 6-feet-plus), lanky young men sprawled on the couch across the living room from me. 

There was a moment, as the tape started, when I realized that it was one of our younger nephew (A.)'s birthday parties. And my heart leaped into my throat, because I thought it might have been the year that I was pregnant. His 6th birthday & party fell two days before I headed to my ob-byn's for my 6-month checkup -- only to receive the news that my baby had no heartbeat. That day, as I snapped photos, A. begged me to let him take a photo, so I handed over the camera & he snapped the only photo I have of myself visibly pregnant. 

The birthday party on the video was not that particular party -- I think it may have been the year before that one. I am not sure whether BIL videoed the 6th birthday party or not. As the boys got older, the video camera came out less and less often. I am not sure how I would feel if such a tape does exist -- whether I'd be hungry to see it (visible proof that I was, indeed, pregnant once), or just too painful to see how happy & blissfully unaware I was of the sharp turn my life was about to take? 

I was reminded of the time we were at dh's aunt's house once for a cousin's birthday, and someone brought out the old film projector & showed old Super 8 home movies. There, briefly, was a 13-year-old dh, and even more poignantly, brief flashes of his mother, who passed away before I ever got to meet her. Even photos of my mother-in-law are scarce, so I found myself trying to absorb as much of her flickering image as I could, this woman who loomed so large in my husband's early life. 

Coincidentally, my mom recently called me and opened the conversation with, "Well, we were at your wedding last night!" She & my dad somehow got watching the video from my wedding back in 1985. "And there was Grandma... and Grandpa... and Dido... and Uncle L.... and Great-Aunt A... and B..." she said. All people who aren't here anymore. Which is precisely why I've been avoiding watching the video for awhile now. I'm afraid of the floodgates of emotion that it might open up, seeing all those dear dead people again.

At the same time, though, I'm very, very glad to know that I have that tape -- that if I do want to see those people again, all I have to do is pop it in my VCR. When the people we love suddenly aren't with us anymore -- be they grandparents, parents or babies -- we cling to whatever things we have that show that they were indeed real and once with us, and this is what they meant to us. 

As SIL said as she flipped through the pages of the scrapbook I had made for V., "These are the best presents of all."

Photographs & memories

(Isn't that the title of an old Jim Croce song?) 

I spent 12 hours yesterday in one of the bastions of modern mommy-dom: a scrapbooking store. I have been scrapbooking for about five years now. As soon as I learned about it, I knew it was something I would like. I'm a writer by trade, & have kept journals on & off all through my life. I have a passion for genealogy and for preserving family stories for future generations (even if they are not my own direct descendants). I love taking photos -- my grandmother (whose favourite line was "Get the camera!") gave me a Kodak Instamatic for Christmas when I was 15 & I've been snapping away ever since. Up until the last few years, I've even been fairly meticulous about labelling the backs of all of my photos with who-what-where & when information. And I've long had a weakness for pretty paper & coloured pens. ; ) 

Scrapbooking brings all of those interests together in a really neat way. It's a creative outlet. (Some people paint. Some knit or crochet or cross-stitch. Some bake bread. I scrapbook.) It's a way of documenting my story and that of my family, which appeals to the genealogist in me. And it's fun! 

Some people are surprised when they hear that I'm a scrapbooker. It's a hobby that's associated with &, admittedly, dominated by mommies. Layouts of adorable children doing cute things dominate the scrapbooking magazines. I have had people ask me what I scrapbook -- and WHY I scrapbook -- if I don't have children. (!) 

Well, there's other people's kids, for starters. I am currently working on albums for both of our nephews (dh's brother's sons, 15 & almost 19). They've been my favourite photo subjects since they were born, long before we ever realized there would be no kids of our own for me to scrapbook. I have probably taken 95% of the photos of them that exist. BIL & SIL are great people, but they do not take photos as a matter of habit. It makes me sad sometimes, because while I've been there to document most of the boys' birthdays & events like baptisms, first communions & confirmations, there are no (or very few) photos of their first days of school, Christmas, Easter or Halloween. And that makes me sad. 

Someday... someday... I will make a scrapbook for my stillborn daughter, about my pregnancy, her delivery, and the years since then. From the first time I heard about scrapbooking, I have thought about it, but I've put it off, "practicing" on other subjects. This, of all albums, of course, must be perfect!! 

I always thought that when I was pregnant, I would keep a pregnancy diary & take lots of photos. I didn't, and I can't explain why. The whole "belly shots" thing was just taking off then, but even so, you would think I would have at least a few photos of myself pregnant. I don't. I have exactly two -- one taken a few days after we announced our pregnancy to the family & came home to find a balloon bouquet tied to our front deck railing (from dh's cousin, who lives nearby). I am pregnant in the photo (me holding the balloons), although I don't look it. 

And one taken two days before my fateful six-month checkup, when the doctor could not find a heartbeat. Our then-six-year-old nephew took it at his birthday party. I was taking photos (which is probably another reason -- I'm usually the one behind the camera, not in front of it!), & he said, "I want to take one of you!" So dh & I posed for him and thank God we did. We are facing the camera head on, so my pregnant belly is not totally visible, but I do look bigger than normal, and it's a nice photo of the two (three) of us. My mother was coming to visit and I was going to get her to take some photos of me in my maternity clothes that she could take home & show to my grandparents. Never put off until tomorrow....

I have exactly six photos of my stillborn daughter -- only three in which she is visible, and even then, just her wee face. They are Polaroids taken by the hospital -- horribly taken, not just in terms of quality, but set up -- and I think they make her look even worse than she really did. But they are the only photos I have and for that reason, they are infinitely precious to me. 

In the brief space between the time I learned that my baby had died and the time I went to the hospital to deliver her, a hospital social worker called me at home to offer comfort, answer my questions, explain what was going to happen at the hospital, and ask about our wishes with respect to having a chaplain visit us, funeral arrangements, etc. She suggested bringing a camera. 

I didn't. I couldn't even bring myself to put it in my bag, just so that we'd have it there. Me, the so-called "family photographer," missed the one and only opportunity to take a photo of my one & only child. It's the one major, major regret I have about the whole experience. The very idea of taking photos of a dead baby seemed so incredibly morbid at the time. 

Since then, I have seen many, many photos of many, many other dead babies. Very few of them bother me in the least anymore. They are heartbreaking, yes, but I don't find them morbid anymore. And I've envied other parents for the wonderful photos they have as precious keepsakes of their children. 

Thankfully, hospitals seem to be catching on to the need for better photos to give to bereaved parents. (It's something that our pregnancy loss support group stresses & provides training in when giving workshops to medical professionals, funeral home directors, etc.). One couple we know was so distressed by the poor quality Polaroid photos they received from the hospital that they donated a digital camera. Subsequently, another bereaved couple arrived at our group who had used the camera. & have some of the best keepsake photos I've seen. There is even a group of professional photographers, called Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, who donate their time and talents to photographing stillborn and dying babies with their families. Some of the parents in our group have created beautiful scrapbooks in memory of their babies. I'm sure some people would find this morbid, as I once did, but experience definitely has a way of changing opinions. 

But children (dead or alive) are not the only reason to scrapbook. With more than 30 years worth of photos in my albums, I have plenty of fodder to keep me scrapbooking for years & years. I'd like to think my life is interesting enough to scrapbook on its own, thank you very much. OK, so my albums won't be passed on to any children of mine. Maybe they will provide enlightenment to other relatives of the future about me & other members of my family. Maybe not. At any rate, it's my time, my money, my life and if it give me enjoyment, isn't that reason enough to do it? 

Sometimes, surrounded by mothers talking about their children non-stop as they scrapbook them, I definitely feel like the odd woman out at these store gatherings, or "crops," as they are known in the industry. I usually go solo, which makes me an even odder duck still -- most women come with at least one friend. I do have a few friends who scrapbook. In fact, a group of bereaved moms whom I've met through our support group and stayed friends with over the years have been meeting one night a month to scrapbook together & catch up on each other's doings. I haven't been able to convince any of them to join me at a store crop yet, though. For one thing, most of them have had subsequent children and are busy dealing with toddler playgroups and swimming lessons, if not 2 a.m. feedings still. Maybe someday...