Friday, June 16, 2006

pawSox and clamBox

The sunny weather this week gave everybody in the family a chance to resume normal "springtime activities". On Monday we got my mom to look after the kids and we went to a Pawtucket Red Sox game (the equivalent of the VT Expos, but much cooler) with my brother's entire family. I am now fully embracing all that is culturally Rhode Islandy - including some specific brand of frozen lemonade that doesn't taste like a frozen Wet-Nap or Lemon Pledge. I think it's called "Del's"... and I hear it tastes great with vodka poured on it. (what a bonus!) We bought our girls some Paw Sox baseball caps just because it's cooler to sport "P"'s rather than "B"'s, and because with 7 dollar box seats we actually could afford some paraphernalia to take home.

My brother just started working full time as a Brand Manager for Hasbro (also in Pawtucket) and I went to visit his office and snoop around the company cubes after hours. The place is INSANE. I never knew there were so many different types of toys! Call me an idiot, but all the time spent at cute, hippie, politically correct toy stores in VT has left me kind of clueless about mainstream kidstuff. Do you guys know what Bratz dolls are? Well, BEWARE OF THE BRATZ! They just might be the evil teenage spawns of Barbie and Ken. Blech. Oh well, I still like Mr. and Ms. PotatoHead... and the new Darth Tater. And My Little Ponies. And Sit N Spins. All Hasbro. Angus just happens to be re-vamping Lite Brite. Remember that?

Somehow we might manage to make the big permanent move to Providence on Sunday, if everything goes as planned for putting the guard rail pieces on the girls' new beds. (Are we crazy? Why do we think we want them out of cribs?) Myles has orientation all next week, so at least he will be staying in the house. I'm just not sure the painter wants to deal with the threat of little kiddie paws messing up his work - and I'm not convinced I want to police them every second we are inside. But my goodness I'd like to have my privacy back and get out of my parents hair. Is it too much information to share that I still like to make coffee naked in the morning? (Yes, it probably is... but who needs secrets when there's a blog to write?) I don't think Ruby and Eloise think twice about it... but now that it's been so long without a naked mommy walking around, they might begin to ask some questions! Ugh. I want my naked coffee. (Which reminds me, we need to order some shades.)

Anyway... Let's see, I guess for the main mollieReport I will conclude that I am plunging right into the cosmopolitan lifestyle with a sickening kind of happiness. I got a super glam haircut today at some swanky salon. I went to my friends CATERED and D.J.-ed 30th birthday party last week in her fab new home... loved every second of it... danced a ton in completely stupid break-your-ankle kind of platforms. And this evening we all went to the Wollaston Clam Box for some good old fried food - just to keep it nice and ChowdaHead. Long live the Massholes!!!

Now if only I could figure out where Peter Manfredo Jr. lives - I might start stalking him.

Thursday, June 08, 2006

our new yard

our new yard
Originally uploaded by mollieholliday.
My brother and his family descended upon our yard with these monstrous plastic structures one evening. The girls are in love with this thing... and the giant turtle pool... hours of entertainment.

Now only if the fucking rain would stop. This weather has to be payback for something. It's like an endless bad day on Survivor Amazon.

D.I.Y. heaven

dem tiles
Originally uploaded by mollieholliday.
TILE MANIA! This business of tiling stuff is addictive. I think I'm going to tile myself into a corner - morroccan tiles though, not cream subways... i'm tired of the one-color job.

In blogging about my home improvements I'm feeling a wee bit boring. MONDO BORO as we used to say.

So, to spice things up I'll add that I ran into a couple with a 2 year old girl at this cute gift store near our new house. We started talking and I discovered the mom was a RISD prof in graphic design - and since we just bought a house from a semi-retired graphic design prof I thought perhaps they might know him... and then they said, "Oh! you bought Krystof's house. We loved attending parties on that back deck. What a beautiful yard you guys have!" blah blah blah. (see the above post)

Now I know that doesn't seem like an out of the ordinary coincidence or anything, considering how many artists live in the Providence area, but I have to just recognize that moment. Why did I choose to walk by that store at that particular second? I mean, my mom was picking up some take-out and I decided to walk the girls down the street - but I almost went into the restaurant to wait. And why was this mom I met a graphic design prof and not a fiber arts prof or something?

These kinds of meetings are supposed to happen - they can give us direction - and if we don't take the time to learn something from them, they start to dwindle away until they don't happen at all, right?

Well, right before I met these people, we were hanging out in a playground and I saw a small red thing poking out of the grass. For a second I thought it was Eloise's heart-shaped button that she has a habit of carrying around, so I bent down to pick it up and discovered that it wasn't her button at all. It was a tiny glass heart. Not a charm, not part of a bracelet or necklace. Just a shiny red glass heart - no more than an inch wide and 1/2 inch thick. A 3D heart. I could pop the adorable thing in my mouth like a Valentine chocolate.

A heart of glass.

Beyond the association with the Blondie song, am I allowed to over-think (or should I overlook) this bite-sized token?

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

Thoughts from the Shower

Some of my great revelations come to me while I'm hanging out in the shower - and late last night I started thinking about cooking shellfish. You know how when you boil a pot of muscles or clams you discard the ones that don't open up because you're afraid they might make you sick? Well, I was thinking that my reaction to a "heated" situation is not unlike what happens to a clam in a hot pot. I just open right up.

Myles on the other hand cracks open just a little. Perhaps he has a good method though - like he is holding up a sign to people saying, "you might not want to consume what's inside".

(on a semi-unrelated note... does anyone remember that song "pulling muscles from a shell"? I think it was Squeeze... but not sure. Off to do an iTunes search. I'll fill you all in shortly.)

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

wind knocked in

For those of you who care to know, we have successfully moved our belongings to Providence. Our home has been under some light construction and is currently getting painted. New appliances and new beds arrive on Friday - so we are staying with my mom while we wait things out. The funny thing is that I am completely filled up with every possible emotion. Saturated with nerves... my body is having these incredible sensations, most of which come from my chest (no, it's not a panic attack, but perhaps "generalized anxiety") and it makes me awfully aware of my diaphragm. I like to describe it as the opposite of having the wind knocked out of you. I'm so full of air, my ribs splay out, my heart just wants to burst out like a balloon - and in this moment I forget to exhale. I'm just kind of sucking in... stuff. The moment is simultaneously exhilarating and exhausting.

But this doesn't mean I'm not having fun. In fact, I'm trying really hard to focus on the practical shit when we visit the house... tiling the kitchen, organizing the basement, watching the kids play in their new play house, getting excited about tacky laminate flooring in a hallway. We have some excellent distractions, but when I get a moment to myself (like when I'm browsing the skincare aisle of CVS) I could just explode. What the hell did we just do?... oh yeah... we bought a house... and in 2 weeks I won't see my husband except for a few tired hours a week... and I flat out left a place where I have spent almost all of my post-college years.

Two days before we left Burlington the Websters participated in the Marathon relay. I did manage to complete the 6.5 (in under 60 minutes!) and it was an excellent way to say my goodbyes to the town. That run down Church Street with every person cheering, the run by the lake (my perfect Lake on a sunshiny day!), and then onto the insane taiko drummers carrying me up the hill - literally - my hair was standing on end, I had goosebumps everywhere and I felt like a machine. We should all run a race at some point in our lives - because once you get over the fact that you are probably not going to win (and hell, you could come in dead last) you can appreciate the sensation of a great community event, and you can always remember that your feet allowed you to take a trip to a place you might never have visited. (I completely revel in the fact that a race allows you to run in city streets... on the yellow line sometimes... they stop traffic for you, etc..)

Which reminds me, I should keep running. That's the only time that I can count on my breath going in and out just the right way and it doesn't get caught. Often I talk myself out of a run - for fear of the boredom of being on the road alone.

Time to find a running partner I guess.

p.s. - no photos to post because i'm on my dad's computer... just wait 'til you see my mad phat Bob Villa skills on the kitchen backsplash.