I Am a Madoff Victim

This has been the hardest blog post for me to do. When I vlogged about my miscarriage that was challenging, but this has other layers to it. By revealing about how we were robbed, how we are part of possibly the largest financial fraud in US History, I am not only disclosing my own life, but the life of my family. I didn’t blog about this before for many reasons. Chief was absolute shock. Then, it was too painful to discuss except with very close friends. I still have some friends I haven’t told. Sometimes it exhausts me too much to do so. Then when I wanted to blog about it, my husband didn’t want me too. I think like anyone who has either been in mourning or been the victim of a crime there are the stages you go through. For me this was both. We were robbed. Someone sits in jail right now because of what has happened to us and thousands of others. And it has altered the trajectory of my life. Many assumptions that I made are no longer valid. To have a secure retirement gave me a buoyancy I no longer possess. I would like that back.

I also didn’t want to blog about it if it was just for me to vent. I didn’t start this online adventure to be a Dear Diary, but I have been touched by comments that some of you have made on this site about your own struggles with the economy. So, I thought maybe by doing this we could help each other through a historical low. One of my initial reactions when we heard that our money was gone was to beat myself up… and my husband. We should have been more diversified ( we were, but not enough), we should have done this or that. And it did help when we realized that we were not part of a small fund like we had been led to believe, but a world wide one where people more savvy or richer than us were also robbed. Mort Zuckerman, Kevin Bacon, Steven Spielberg. And also better people than us, Elie Wiesel (who steals from Holocaust survivors?!)  I also started to hear from friends and neighbors how they too thought they might need to sell their house or move in with relatives, and it was for other reasons than our own, a real estate deal gone south, unemployment.

So, going forward I’m in a sense catching you all up with what I have been personally struggling with for the last 6 months. There is so much to say about this. But I’m still going to have some funny blogs and funny videos, because my whole life comedy has meant a great deal to me. It is healing (remind me to tell you about doing improv for chronic pain patients), and it has dictated my entire career to me. And like the saying goes, tragedy plus time equals comedy.

Have you heard about the pregnant lady who found out she had been robbed? Ah, yeah, not funny yet.

Rex at Home

Mark took the overnight shift, and I was able to go home and crawl into my own bed with Vivien next me. In the middle of the night she said, “Momma, I’m glad you came home.” Woke up early, but had the best sleep in many nights. I got up twice to pump, but I wasn’t the sentry for the night; and I didn’t have an overweight, sullen nursing assistant barging in several times a night with a nose ring snorting, “I gotta take his vitals.” And who says we can pronounce the death of charm? I perhaps.

Yesterday, we would find out the results of all the cultures. My mother-in-law arrived so I could either spell Mark or take our boy home. Just when I was getting ready to go Mark called and said, “They diagnosed him…” I held my breath.  “…as a cutie, patootie.” It was funny, but I could have hit him. “Is he okay?”

Yes, he was, and we could take him home. I was sure he would pass out when we got to our own environs, and he did. But he isn’t himself. He is cranky and sensitive, which he wasn’t before. If he loses his latch instead of allowing me to reattach him calmly per usual, he flips out and starts crying. A cry that sounds like to me, “Oh, forget it lady, just forget it; you f–ed up and I’m not interested anymore.” And it takes a while to calm him.

The one thing that is better about him is he developed a puffy redness under his eyes while in the hospital. I assume from the stress and crying. So that looks better. Maybe the entire trauma has taken its toll, or maybe the antibiotics they gave him bother his tummy, ’cause I have had more spit up than usual.  I dunno.

So grateful to be home and back to small problems. I glimpsed some kids in there that could break your heart.

Here You Come Again!

Here you come again!! My milk has come in, and I feel like Dolly Parton.

Hi! First blog since I got home. First time I have left my bedroom.  Boy, do I need makeup.. or more like a makeover.

Rex is such a good baby.. so far. Doing fine with getting up at 1 and 4. I wake myself up before he does. It’s more work to keep Vivien happy and included. She is an eager big sister, but I have to put her to bed, or she freaks.

Note the clean floors. I hired a person who came today to do it. No new mother should mop!!

Why I Love Advertising Part 2

I kind of rush the beginning of this vlog, so if you didn’t see my previous video about this (Why I Love Advertising), let me explain. I always wanted to buy Tarn-X when I was a kid, but my mom said it was a waste of money. More than thirty years later (“more than” being the key phrase), I finally bought some. When I mentioned I didn’t test the Tarn-X, several (um, two) people asked me to do so. So, here is my test: will Tarn-X take off the tarnish on my silver like the commercials from the 1970s?