Day 2: Not my idea of foreplay

Smoothie ingredients: Mixed greens, apples, strawberries, banana, flax seed, Naturade soy-free protein powder

Taste: Mildly salady and pleasant

Mood: surprisingly good!

Smug points: 17

Genuinely, I feel good. I am having a ginger kombucha, partly because it has a wee bit of caffeine. The lack of caffeine and the shakeup of my morning cup of tea routine have been the hardest part, I think. It's not that I've necessarily been hungry - I just want particular things.

So although I was wondering to my friend Meg last night why I jumped into a 10-day cleanse rather than a shorter one, and why I utterly lack moderation, right now I feel good about the whole thing.

Because listen. What I really want to talk about today is fecal matter.

Now, if that sentence bothers you, go ahead and stop reading right here. Because the upcoming sentences are only going to get worse.

JJ Smith, the cleanse author, focuses quite a bit on the importance of keeping your bowels moving in order to keep eliminating toxins. I picture it kind of like a DC bus at rush hour. You're all squished in and uncomfortable and you have to exit through the back door and everyone feels better once enough people have gotten out.

Of course, in this scenario, sometimes you're the poop. But in any case, it's always a relief to get the hell out of a bus at rush hour.

And now that I've written all this I realize that I've just compared a DC bus to a colon, which, um, sorry if you take public transport. You're not the poop. Also, did I ever tell you my friend Jen got peed on once in a DC bus? But that's a whole nother story.

So there's this sentence in the book that I've read aloud to a variety of people, because it's such a gem that I cannot resist. "One product that really works wonders at getting at the old fecal matter in your colon is Mag07..."

I just...never thought about old fecal matter in my colon. Or old fecal matter at all.

Old. Fecal. Matter. Have you ever seen The Little Mermaid? If so, you know those mermaids who have been zapped by Ursula? They're grey and despondent, nearly lifeless, unable to break free,  waving in the current. This is how I imagine old fecal matter in one's colon.

But more importantly, yikes! So then! Then in the chapter Five Detox Methods to Enhance Your Cleansing, I read this bit about colonics.

Because listen to this: "The average colon weighs about four pounds, but it is not at all unusual for colon cleansing to flush away as many as 10 to 20 pounds of stagnant fecal matter."

Can it be true? Twenty pounds is so many pounds! So is ten. Even five. Any! Any stagnant fecal matter seems like too much stagnant fecal matter.

If you Google "stagnant fecal matter," it only gets worse. Stagnant fecal matter seems to be the devil. I'm not kidding.

So now I really want a colonic. And I want Nick to have one. He's not so interested.

I just know his colon is full of old lamb chops and beef and sausage pizza and such.

So last night as we were heading for bed I said I'm getting him a colonic for Christmas. I know he's got 20 pounds worth just waiting. It's going to be great.

And then he patted the bed next to him and wiggled his eyebrows and offered to knock some of my stagnant fecal matter loose.

I said that kind of talk might be considered foreplay in New Jersey, but it's no way to get me into some sexy time.

Day 1: Green smoothie cleanse

Smoothie ingredients: Spinach, apple, strawberries, mango chunks, grapes, flax seed, Naturade soy-free protein powder

You blend all the stuff, drink a third, put the rest in the fridge for later and there's your day and Bob's your uncle. 

Mood: not as crabby as expected

Smug points: none so far

My old friend Alice had this little kid cousin who would stand on the edge of the pool, hands and arms pointed straight down to dive in. For the longest time he would stand there saying, "I don't want to I don't want to I don't want to." And then he would dive.

So last night we were both all, ooh, we're excited to start this cleanse tomorrow!

And then this morning I woke up all I don't want to I don't want to I don't want to. I mean, obviously it's optional. And Nick is trying to lose weight and change how he eats and his relationship to food. I support all these things and agreed to do this with him.

So I made Nick's smoothie, gave him his glass, put the rest in a Nalgene bottle for him to take to work. And then I turned around and made mine.

In his cold bag I also packed potential snacks: carrots, cucumbers, broccoli, peanut butter (unsalted, organic, crunchy), almonds (raw), pumpkin seeds (raw), and boiled eggs.

Nick drank his glass and then was all, "Is that all? It's not very much."

I resisted the temptation to say, "Listen, asshole, this was your idea. You were all gung-ho, so I found a cleanse, I bought the book, I sort-of read the book, I bought all the stuff, I made your smoothie!"

Instead I said, "I followed the instructions. That seems to be it. Oh, and drink your detox tea. It's kind of gross." 

But I did snap when he was all, "Do we take vitamins? When can I start eating my snacks?"

Now, the truth is that those three big handfuls of spinach blend down very small. Even when you add an apple and two cups of frozen fruit and a handful of grapes and some flax seeds and protein powder. 

You wind up with an amount that is kind of like, hmm. Is that all? I ate a spoon of peanut butter not long after. I'm not trying to lose weight. I'm just trying to cleanse and shit. Oh, this reminds me. I have so much to say on this topic. Perhaps tomorrow.

When Nick called, I was no longer so hangry, plus I'd had a cup of plain black tea with ginger chunks. I am easing into the no-caffeine. I have children. I cannot be completely evil.

So after I said that I had resisted saying all those this-was-your-idea things to him, we talked about how maybe this isn't going to be a joy but ultimately, we agree it's good. You can do anything for 10 days, as my friend Dana pointed out.

Plus, we're going to be able to assign ourselves so many smug points as we go along.

We start tomorrow

We are starting a 10-day cleanse tomorrow.

I told you Nick got this wild hair, and so I looked around and one that seemed manageable was The 10-day Green Smoothie Cleanse. You drink three smoothies but you eat snacks like veggies and fruit and nuts in between. I figure this will make things easier.

One of the things she offers, however, is to eat boiled eggs as snacks. But if you add protein powder to your smoothies, she says it needs to be all veg. Since eggs are animal protein, I don't quite understand it. Anyway.

My friend Kaysha has described me as "not particularly food motivated." I could be insulted as I know it's a way to describe pets - food-motivated dogs seem easier to train - but animal comparisons don't bother me and I think it's true and works in my favor.

I was telling this to some friends the other day. I was saying how I think it will be much harder for Nick, because one, I'm not food motivated, and two, I already eat lots of vegetables and fruit and don't have a problem going without meat.

I said, "I think it'll be fine. I mean, really, I'm only cutting out dairy, which I don't have much of anyway. Except I do like cheese. And milk in my tea. Oh, tea. I love tea in the morning. Yah, the caffeine might be hard.  And sugar, but I don't eat a lot of that. Except sometimes. And I do like alcohol."

And they were all, "So basically this will be a total breeze."

Perhaps not. But you will absolutely not hear me complain, because it's such a first-world problem, you know, to have such an abundance of food and choose to be abstemious.

It's kind of like winter. I don't feel like I have a right to complain about summer, even when it's way too hot, because I complain so bitterly all winter. Maybe it's not at all like winter because that comparison makes no sense.

OK, here's how they're alike: I'll feel like a dick complaining about a cleanse in the same way I'd feel like a dick complaining about summer.

But sometimes I'm a dick, so there's that.

Also: Winter is coming. It is known. Yes, we are immersed in Game of Thrones. We're only on the second season but I've read four of the books so I know not to get attached to pretty much anyone.

You're encouraged to start on a weekend because you might be tremendously crabby in the beginning, but we kept having one event and another on weekends and so we've agreed.

We start tomorrow.

Gradual changes in Grover's Corners. Horses are getting rarer. Farmers coming into town in Fords.

Dear Dad,

Today would be your 78th birthday. October, for me, is your month.

I have dear friends who are dealing with the recent deaths of family members. I ache for them. I know how brutal it is right now, and if I could do a cosmic fast-forward for them I would, because time is the only balm that actually works.

And I know that after a while, you stop feeling like all of your skin has been peeled off, like your heart is raw and exposed, each beat on display for the world. You stop feeling so fragile that even a breeze or the sunshine can hurt, because they bring a memory.

After enough time - however much that might be - you actually start feeling fine. Not that you don't have bad periods or hard moments. But mostly, you are fine. Eventually, you are happy, and the rough patches are few and far between. Sometimes you feel guilty for being fine and happy.

All you need is time. Time time time, like that Tom Waits song. But time just takes so damn long. And you hurt so much in the meanwhile.

No, it's not a perfect remedy. Sometimes I still get very upset. Sometimes I still wonder how you could've left us. And birthdays and holidays still hurt.

But time time time. It's the best we've got.

The kids are now five and two. Jordan doesn't yet ask why he doesn't have a grandpa, but I suppose eventually he will. He's a little fixated on death and dying right now, and his teacher said it's the age. They're trying to sort out what it means.

I wear the T-shirt I had made for my walk last summer, and he knows the man playing piano is my dad, and he knows the girl in the picture is me. Both kids do. Every time I wear it we have to examine the picture and identify all the characters.

India used to identify the girl as India, but now she points says, "That's Mama." They know the little boy I have my arm around is my brother, although they do not know him. They used to think that the boy was Jordan. They're so used to every picture of every kid they see being them.

Anyway, they're growing into really interesting little humans. They would make you laugh so much. You would love them for who they are, not just because they're your grandchildren.

Sometimes Jordan goes upstairs to sleep with his Nana. Sometimes they both go up in the morning and crawl in her bed and watch TV and eat sweets. This past summer we all went to Maine, and Jordan and Nana shared a bed. I asked one morning how they slept and he said, "Good. Sometimes we sleep, and sometimes we wake up and chat. And then we sleep some more."

I love they are growing up so close to Betty.

Our lives are normal now. I mean, my kids have never known a life that didn't involve Betty living with us at least part of the week. I don't think Jordan remembers her house, in fact. Your house. They never had a world that included you.

So this, for them, is how life is.

One of Jordan's new friends had her grandparents visiting. They left a week ago, and as they were saying goodbye at school that last morning, Jordan got teary for her. "She has to say goodbye!" I reminded him how lucky he is to have Nana right upstairs. To see her every day and never have to say goodbye.

I think for me, each one of these letters to you is a fractional goodbye. I'm making peace with the past, peace with your actions, peace with the fact that I failed to save you one last time. That was my expectation of myself, foolish as it may sound, but it is true.

It's a process. It takes time time time.

It's your birthday, and I miss you.

Love,

Lisa

Artist in residence

So last night I asked friends on FB if they would have a painting of their house done if someone came along and was painting pictures of neighborhood houses.

Overwhelmingly, the response was an enthusiastic yes.

Except my friend Eric, who was all, "This is a trick question."

Yes.

Here's the story. Last weekend this guy set up in front of our house and was painting a picture of the house across the street. He had a couple other paintings with him.

Nick and Betty got all chatty with him. Nick brought him a glass of water, as it was hot out. I took the kids to the park and when I got back, the man and Nick were each enjoying a nice cold beer.

When  Nick came inside he said, "He's going to do a painting of our house."

Personally, I hate this kind of thing. Nick shares his father's love of artists' renderings of buildings in one's life. And we've inherited approximately 97 million etchings and paintings of various edifices at Harvard and Oxford.

Nick knows how I feel about this, but in an effort to be more positive, I said, "I'm in favor of supporting local artists."

This is a true statement. I do feel like it is important to support artists and art.

Our local artist, it turns out, told Nick he charges by the day, and our house, he thinks, will take about four days. Also, he's storing his other paintings in our foyer, so it reeks of oil paint.

Also, at various points during the day he rings to ask to use the phone and the bathroom. Betty let him use her phone but I told her for safety it had to be outside, on the sidewalk. I let him in yesterday to use the bathroom but left the doors open.

I mean, we don't even know him. I think he lives kind of on the edges, possibly because of some kind of addiction problem or mental illness, but is probably harmless. But who the fuck knows? Years ago, an old colleague of mine was murdered by a homeless man that he'd taken under his wing. Honestly.

Yesterday evening, when the kids and I returned from the park, the artist asked me what I thought of the painting. I said my opinion wasn't important, because it's Nick's. Then he said that he needs to buy more paint, and so he needs some money. Again I said this was all on Nick.

So last night, when I learned that he charges by the day rather than the product, and Nick was all OK with it, and it's going to wind up being way more than I believe it is worth, because I don't want it in the first place, and also I don't want strange men pooping in my toilet, I lost my little mind.

I said, "I was trying to be positive but I personally think it's ridiculous to have a painting of your house in your own house."

Many people seem to like the idea, but it's not my thing.

Although I realize that my feelings at this point are a lot more about feeling imposed upon by the guy than about this actual painting. Even though I don't feel the need for a painting of our house.

But then, you know, I thought back to when I lived with Maude, and we had this giant zigzag patterned couch that she and Lyrae rescued from the curb when our neighbors couldn't get it in their door.

It was hideous and perfect. And unique. If I ever saw that couch again even from a distance I would totally know.

So Maude, who is an artist, suggested painting a picture of me reclining nude on the couch. We'd hang the painting above the couch. And then when people came over, we'd sit with them in the living room and watch them feel all awkward.

We never did it. But I still like the idea.