Apologies for my lack of photos... they have yet to make it onto my computer after our long trip.
But more importantly, we are headed back into the mountains. Myles ended up having to scramble into a Pediatrics residency spot at Dartmouth. I guess the anesthesia programs of the northeast weren't ranking him, so he chose the best possible option. And the funny thing is that I think it's ultimately the best fit for him. He just doesn't know it yet.
People keep asking me how I'm doing. I'm responding with a lot of nervous grins and uncomfortable "you know, I think things like this happen for a reason" comments.
Do things like this happen for a reason? Maybe they do for the sake of showing Myles that he has a gift for working with children...
But what lesson am I learning?
Occasionally in a relationship there is compromise... and other times we throw up our arms and surrender.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Friday, March 14, 2008
Thursday, March 13, 2008
and we're off...
All five of us Websters are headed to Disney World for a week starting Saturday morning. My mom and dad and my brother's entire family will be there too - and coincidentally another family from Ru and El's old Montessori school. There should be lots and lots of ridiculous princess crap happening... as well as disgusting unhealthy food, overtired, spoiled and misbehaving children, the occasional rash or sunburn and a lot of laughing. Oh, and swimming. And spending money. (ouch.)
The idea that I have to pack for myself and 3 little girls is pretty overwhelming, which is why I need to get off this fucking machine and get to work.
Did I mention that Penny can crawl AND pull herself up now? And Ruby and Eloise turn 4 tomorrow. And we find out if we have to move again on March 20th. Lots going on in this head of mine.
Prepare yourselves for some super special photos and an update on our future when we return...
The idea that I have to pack for myself and 3 little girls is pretty overwhelming, which is why I need to get off this fucking machine and get to work.
Did I mention that Penny can crawl AND pull herself up now? And Ruby and Eloise turn 4 tomorrow. And we find out if we have to move again on March 20th. Lots going on in this head of mine.
Prepare yourselves for some super special photos and an update on our future when we return...
Friday, February 29, 2008
A Light in the Attic
Shel Silverstein. Genius! Who remembers the book "The Giving Tree"? You all MUST remember that one, right?
It begins, "Once there was a tree... and she loved a little boy..." and the tree gives all of herself to the boy as he grows and grows into a greedy grown-up and eventually chops her down to a stump. And it continues from there, "And the tree was happy... but not really." Eventually the boy returns as an old man and needs a place to rest, so he sits on the stump. Again, "the tree was happy".
End of story. So was the tree really happy? Were we all destined to be greedy like the boy?
Today "The Giving Tree" makes more sense than it did when I was young - on so many different levels. When you are young, you relate to the boy, but as a parent now I feel completely in touch with the tree! I understand unconditional giving. You give and give and give every moment to your child that you can. At times I've felt like I wanted to burst from the pressures of self-sacrifice - initially it was such a hard adjustment for me and I was so angry at the world. Why did I feel like I was throwing away my former self for my kids? Why did I have to do this, and why did I feel so guilty about NOT liking the process of giving? I was happy... but not really.
Well, last night Ruby and Eloise recited a short poem to me from memory. It was a Shel Silverstein poem about taking a snowball under the covers - "and when I woke it had wet my bed" (insert goofy kid laughter). So I went and got out Myles' tattered copy of "Where the Sidewalk Ends". More Shel. We picked poems and I happily read all of these memories to my girls. At times I didn't even have to look at the words because they were pouring out of an odd memory bank in the back of my brain. It felt so good. Here were these things that I vividly remember from my childhood! These excellent nonsense poems about dogs with two tails, three guys who go for a ride in a flying shoe, and the unicorns who missed their ride on Noah's ark. Ru and El have hit the age where I will be able to share and appreciate these excellent pieces of literature, not just picture books.
The sacrifice we make for our kids has extraordinary payback. I got another glimpse of that last night - those milestones along the way, like the first "I love you, Mom" out of your kid's mouth, or the first time you realize you wish you could take on all of their pain or illness so that they didn't have to live through it, - those are the things that make being a parent completely rewarding. Recently I've been so pre-occupied with the fear of moving to yet another place, juggling Penny's schedule (or lack thereof) and dealing with financial paranoia that I've almost forgotten to recognize how mature Ruby and Eloise have become. Sharing this old favorite book gave me a small wake-up call.
Last week Eloise said, "Mom, we don't like having curly hair. We want straight hair like Sophie." Shit, I thought. This garbage already? I tell them it's not about the outside, it's the inside that counts... corny corny, I know... but to identical twins that has even more resonance.
And for another grown-up comment, Ruby told me I should return my bruised squash to the market, "like you did with the LAME pistachios." (They WERE lame pistachios for the record. Almost all of the shells were sealed shut.) Note to self: don't say things like "lame", "butt-crack", or "bummer" in regular everyday speech. Fortunately they haven't figured out that I'm the F-Bomb Mommy - at least not yet. I'll let you know when someone says fuck. (Watch it be Penelope's first word. Seriously, if she could talk I think she'd say, "GIVE ME THE FUCKING CHEERIOS! NOW!!!)
So there it is. My kids are my life. I can complain about how hard this job is day in and day out, and how I think society pressures mommies to give too much of themselves - but it is refreshing to know that even reading them a book can remind me how I'd be happy to give them the world; to let them virtually chop off my limbs, and use me as a resting place.
Infinitely happy indeed.
It begins, "Once there was a tree... and she loved a little boy..." and the tree gives all of herself to the boy as he grows and grows into a greedy grown-up and eventually chops her down to a stump. And it continues from there, "And the tree was happy... but not really." Eventually the boy returns as an old man and needs a place to rest, so he sits on the stump. Again, "the tree was happy".
End of story. So was the tree really happy? Were we all destined to be greedy like the boy?
Today "The Giving Tree" makes more sense than it did when I was young - on so many different levels. When you are young, you relate to the boy, but as a parent now I feel completely in touch with the tree! I understand unconditional giving. You give and give and give every moment to your child that you can. At times I've felt like I wanted to burst from the pressures of self-sacrifice - initially it was such a hard adjustment for me and I was so angry at the world. Why did I feel like I was throwing away my former self for my kids? Why did I have to do this, and why did I feel so guilty about NOT liking the process of giving? I was happy... but not really.
Well, last night Ruby and Eloise recited a short poem to me from memory. It was a Shel Silverstein poem about taking a snowball under the covers - "and when I woke it had wet my bed" (insert goofy kid laughter). So I went and got out Myles' tattered copy of "Where the Sidewalk Ends". More Shel. We picked poems and I happily read all of these memories to my girls. At times I didn't even have to look at the words because they were pouring out of an odd memory bank in the back of my brain. It felt so good. Here were these things that I vividly remember from my childhood! These excellent nonsense poems about dogs with two tails, three guys who go for a ride in a flying shoe, and the unicorns who missed their ride on Noah's ark. Ru and El have hit the age where I will be able to share and appreciate these excellent pieces of literature, not just picture books.
The sacrifice we make for our kids has extraordinary payback. I got another glimpse of that last night - those milestones along the way, like the first "I love you, Mom" out of your kid's mouth, or the first time you realize you wish you could take on all of their pain or illness so that they didn't have to live through it, - those are the things that make being a parent completely rewarding. Recently I've been so pre-occupied with the fear of moving to yet another place, juggling Penny's schedule (or lack thereof) and dealing with financial paranoia that I've almost forgotten to recognize how mature Ruby and Eloise have become. Sharing this old favorite book gave me a small wake-up call.
Last week Eloise said, "Mom, we don't like having curly hair. We want straight hair like Sophie." Shit, I thought. This garbage already? I tell them it's not about the outside, it's the inside that counts... corny corny, I know... but to identical twins that has even more resonance.
And for another grown-up comment, Ruby told me I should return my bruised squash to the market, "like you did with the LAME pistachios." (They WERE lame pistachios for the record. Almost all of the shells were sealed shut.) Note to self: don't say things like "lame", "butt-crack", or "bummer" in regular everyday speech. Fortunately they haven't figured out that I'm the F-Bomb Mommy - at least not yet. I'll let you know when someone says fuck. (Watch it be Penelope's first word. Seriously, if she could talk I think she'd say, "GIVE ME THE FUCKING CHEERIOS! NOW!!!)
So there it is. My kids are my life. I can complain about how hard this job is day in and day out, and how I think society pressures mommies to give too much of themselves - but it is refreshing to know that even reading them a book can remind me how I'd be happy to give them the world; to let them virtually chop off my limbs, and use me as a resting place.
Infinitely happy indeed.
Monday, February 25, 2008
a bright bright sunshiny day...
One of these blogs that I follow suggested that you shoot your photos into the sun as an experiment. Like a rule-breaking kind of thing. So I quite like this photo of Eloise. It captures her essence just perfectly. (As I write this I'm feeling guilty for not posting a link to the blog that I read regarding photos, life coaching, creativity... not because I don't want to share this with you, but because I'm being an ass about the norms of the blog medium. That is another potential topic entirely... norms of the blog medium. I find myself hooked on a relatively link-free style for many reasons... but really, that's another entry on another day.)
But yes. I just said BLOG as a medium. Currently I work in "blog" and I'm struggling with all that entails and how I've become this blogger of sorts. I don't get many comments posted directly to blogger, which is fine, but I do manage to hear feedback from my pals around the world (yes, you are all around the world) and that is precisely why I do this. You are all so fucking far away and this is a decent method to let you know how my brain and family unit is functioning.
The inspiration for my photo post was an experiment, so I have decided to make a experiment of my own and encourage many of you non-bloggers just to start writing in a blog format to see what happens (you don't have to share it with anybody). Really, this type of writing began as a Doogie Howser, M.D. kind of computer journal I could use to document my days... and then it became a means to communicate... and now it has become a place of curiosity for a tiny community. Many of you are friends, but some of you are quasi-strangers. I invite you upon this entry to let yourself be known in my comments box (and that's okay if there are only 2 of you) and ask me some questions. Or send me your links. Discuss amongst yourself, and in the meantime mess around with shooting into the sun.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
All You Need Is Love... Love Is All You Need
My college graduation present has been sold (silver Golf, 1999). My little twins are not so little any more. I am addicted enough to television that I even take pictures of it. I adore felting lame squares of knitting and making them into coasters. My cat doesn't appreciate Valentines, but Penny knows that 18K rose gold charm bracelets are good for her.
Myles and I have been together for 12 years this summer.
That means my niece Daisy is turning 12 in March, my sister's dog Maggie (who was put to rest last week) was also 12, and I am a really old old lady.
But what a thing to reflect on - loving the same person since the age of 20. I have a few regrets... but they are ultimately trumped by all of our beautiful memories. Enjoy a visit here to have a visual.
Myles and I have been together for 12 years this summer.
That means my niece Daisy is turning 12 in March, my sister's dog Maggie (who was put to rest last week) was also 12, and I am a really old old lady.
But what a thing to reflect on - loving the same person since the age of 20. I have a few regrets... but they are ultimately trumped by all of our beautiful memories. Enjoy a visit here to have a visual.
Monday, February 11, 2008
change we can believe in
My friend Heather who has 6 year old daughter sent me an email a few days ago confirming her love of Barack - she writes:
"I am so excited about Barak's wins yesterday. Lets keep it up! I just keep picturing myself telling Dora that he is the president of our country and being so proud to tell her that. Now when she asks about the president I just try to brush it under the carpet or change the subject. Dora already knows the truth about the tooth fairy and Santa (I also explain that we can pretend these things are real if she wants), but I don't have the heart to tell her about Bush and the US government."
I just love her comparing of the mysterious and phony Santa and the scary truth about the US government. Amazing.
Well, for another kind of change, I am off to do a crossword in bed with Myles rather than pollute my brain with more TV. Back when we were child-free we did a bedtime crossword every night. It's time we get back to some honest and healthy togetherness before our relationship wears thin under the pressures of residency...
"I am so excited about Barak's wins yesterday. Lets keep it up! I just keep picturing myself telling Dora that he is the president of our country and being so proud to tell her that. Now when she asks about the president I just try to brush it under the carpet or change the subject. Dora already knows the truth about the tooth fairy and Santa (I also explain that we can pretend these things are real if she wants), but I don't have the heart to tell her about Bush and the US government."
I just love her comparing of the mysterious and phony Santa and the scary truth about the US government. Amazing.
Well, for another kind of change, I am off to do a crossword in bed with Myles rather than pollute my brain with more TV. Back when we were child-free we did a bedtime crossword every night. It's time we get back to some honest and healthy togetherness before our relationship wears thin under the pressures of residency...
to my clueless few...
I've just been alerted by a couple of people that they completely don't understand what my last post was making reference to! Huge apologies for being so vague... but I have a bad case of Obama-mania. (Or should that be ObaMania?) Barack Obama's campaign speeches repeatedly use the phrase "yes we can".
Here goes my first attempt at posting a video to y'all.
Here goes my first attempt at posting a video to y'all.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
New Sweater, New Skill
Here she is - Ms. Penelope Pickle! What a clever dumpling sitting up by herself... almost a little too clever for my liking. She does these roly-poly moves from a seated position and falls down onto her stomach, where she then manages to inch herself backwards. I remember this phase of Ruby and Eloise's babyhood... you turn the corner for a moment, only to return to find a child stuck under the sofa. When she figures out how to crawl forward I am in serious trouble.
How nice is this hand-knit cardigan she's wearing? My snazzy sister whipped it up in a matter of days. If only I could pull a cute outfit like this together... my fashion has fallen down the drain along side my dish suds. Perhaps that's my next entry: How To Feel Attractive Again.
Just writing that out makes me want to crawl under this desk and cry.
How nice is this hand-knit cardigan she's wearing? My snazzy sister whipped it up in a matter of days. If only I could pull a cute outfit like this together... my fashion has fallen down the drain along side my dish suds. Perhaps that's my next entry: How To Feel Attractive Again.
Just writing that out makes me want to crawl under this desk and cry.
Friday, January 18, 2008
REsolution
Over the years I have been addicted to paper towels, zip-loc baggies, saran wrap, designer bath wash and packets of wipes. I have been the first to secretly criticize my in-laws for their impressive use of wax paper and recycled yogurt containers for every little leftover food item. I cannot stand BROWN, unbleached, recycled paper towels and their complete inability to effectively wipe up or dry anything (it's just pushing whatever you spilled all around the counter). I have been known to giggle at crusty-ass towels that have been dried on a clothesline or drying rack... thinking they don't really smell fresh or feel particularly nice wiping your face after you get out of a shower. I have scoffed at bar soaps for their dingy, dirty scum that you get to look at all built up on your shower rack or soap dish. I have whined about people who are so environmentally conscious that they would even bother to recycle a fucking piece of tin foil - and better yet I like to make fun of those losers who manage to wrap your peanut butter sandwich in the old foil that previously held your roasted garlic. Hello flavor spoiler... the equivalent of cutting your banana with the onion knife!
Remember that Pantene commercial where some annoying model tossed her hair around and said, "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful?" I've always envisioned my hippie relatives saying, "Don't hate me because I'm frugal".. giving a delicate toss to their grey hair and tossing a little handful of fucking granola with flax seed into their mouth.
So my point is that I have been hyper-critical of anything "green". Hell, I even hate the term "green". It makes my skin crawl... kinda the way that "low-carb", "vegan" or "low-fat" does. I like to be an asshole about people who are healthy and good... because they make me feel horrible about myself and my complete inability to have any self-restraint. Honestly, it doesn't make any sense, except for the fact that that is the way I have been raised to think. I don't blame my parents for anything here, but these sentiments always have a root cause. My mom is a maniac about cleanliness and cleaning solutions, and my father is still in denial about our role in the process of global warming.
But this here is a photo of my new crusty-clothes-creating drying rack. I'm pretty proud of it actually, because it was a struggle for me to really want to put it in my dining room for anyone to see. I've had to let go of the concept of other people's impression of my decor and start thinking of how proud I am to be doing something to save energy and money. (For the record, I still use the dryer, but not nearly as long or as much as before.) Much to my mother's dismay, I haven't put paper towels in my kitchen for over a month. We use numerous washcloths and dish towels for wiping up, cleaning and drying. I have also managed to finish off my favorite shower gels and have moved to bar soaps - which has been a fun transition, considering that there are still a ton of beautiful smelling solid soaps for me to purchase. Think about how much extra plastic waste is created by those silly bottles. I do need to work on finishing up my squirty hand soap dispensers... but that's a tough one for me. I hate dirty bars of soap on the side of the sink...
We also bought some of those HIDEOUS, coiled, florescent "Al Gore" lightbulbs (as my dad likes to call them). They are an interior decorators nightmare... such an unflattering effect on our complexions... but interspersed with regular bulbs here and there I can handle it I guess. Hell, I kind of dig wax paper sandwich bags now.
These are my efforts to adjust my ways for the moment, and once these baby steps become normal to me, I can tackle something else. Being better to the environment is not a resolution. Resolutions don't work... as far as I'm concerned they just end up being disappointing. Instead I choose to refocus. And now I can make fun of myself - instead of other people - when I choose tin foil over plastic wrap.
Remember that Pantene commercial where some annoying model tossed her hair around and said, "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful?" I've always envisioned my hippie relatives saying, "Don't hate me because I'm frugal".. giving a delicate toss to their grey hair and tossing a little handful of fucking granola with flax seed into their mouth.
So my point is that I have been hyper-critical of anything "green". Hell, I even hate the term "green". It makes my skin crawl... kinda the way that "low-carb", "vegan" or "low-fat" does. I like to be an asshole about people who are healthy and good... because they make me feel horrible about myself and my complete inability to have any self-restraint. Honestly, it doesn't make any sense, except for the fact that that is the way I have been raised to think. I don't blame my parents for anything here, but these sentiments always have a root cause. My mom is a maniac about cleanliness and cleaning solutions, and my father is still in denial about our role in the process of global warming.
But this here is a photo of my new crusty-clothes-creating drying rack. I'm pretty proud of it actually, because it was a struggle for me to really want to put it in my dining room for anyone to see. I've had to let go of the concept of other people's impression of my decor and start thinking of how proud I am to be doing something to save energy and money. (For the record, I still use the dryer, but not nearly as long or as much as before.) Much to my mother's dismay, I haven't put paper towels in my kitchen for over a month. We use numerous washcloths and dish towels for wiping up, cleaning and drying. I have also managed to finish off my favorite shower gels and have moved to bar soaps - which has been a fun transition, considering that there are still a ton of beautiful smelling solid soaps for me to purchase. Think about how much extra plastic waste is created by those silly bottles. I do need to work on finishing up my squirty hand soap dispensers... but that's a tough one for me. I hate dirty bars of soap on the side of the sink...
We also bought some of those HIDEOUS, coiled, florescent "Al Gore" lightbulbs (as my dad likes to call them). They are an interior decorators nightmare... such an unflattering effect on our complexions... but interspersed with regular bulbs here and there I can handle it I guess. Hell, I kind of dig wax paper sandwich bags now.
These are my efforts to adjust my ways for the moment, and once these baby steps become normal to me, I can tackle something else. Being better to the environment is not a resolution. Resolutions don't work... as far as I'm concerned they just end up being disappointing. Instead I choose to refocus. And now I can make fun of myself - instead of other people - when I choose tin foil over plastic wrap.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
growing, growing... gone.
Such sweetness in this little Penelope. She's just bursting with joy most of the time. In the last 3 days, despite our sickly household, I've noticed her range of expressions expanding and she has developed the famous vocabulary of an almost 6 month old. This consists of "lad lad lad", "blablabla", "dadadad" and the rare but oh-so-pleasant "mamama". She is completely excited by anything related to a spoon, making her first two sessions with rice cereal a huge success. For some reason I don't remember Ru and El being that enthusiastic about solid food - but maybe that's a third kid thing.
I see clearly now that this is the point in a mom's life where she looks at her baby and says, "where is my baby going?" I know there are tons of moments in your child's life where you do this, but I don't remember getting to appreciate it quite so much with twins at this stage. All I wanted to do was get them walking and talking. And now I would like for Penny to just slow it down and be a lump of kissable, squeezable heaven for a bit longer... but she has these tremendous big sisters around her doing all kinds of exciting things and she wants to play too. So much for keeping your kittens small and fluffy...
Grannies around the neighborhood swoon when they make Penny smile (which is not that hard, she smiles at creepy toothless drunks and coconuts at the market) and makes moms with two kids say, "Wow. We do think about having another one of these days." (Intoxicating baby vapors seeping from her pores!!)
Fuck it though. She's going to grow up. And there will be times when I'll ask myself, "how the hell did I get myself into this Mom business", or "where did my tiny baby go?"; and there will be times when I'll know that the process of helping my children grow into good people is the best thing I have to offer the world. I just wish it seemed like some of the great moments in my kids lives were happening in slow motion so I could fully appreciate every important detail... or that we could have brief rewinds to snuggle into the back of their tiny baby necks.
Or better yet, I would love to fast forward through cold and flu season.
I see clearly now that this is the point in a mom's life where she looks at her baby and says, "where is my baby going?" I know there are tons of moments in your child's life where you do this, but I don't remember getting to appreciate it quite so much with twins at this stage. All I wanted to do was get them walking and talking. And now I would like for Penny to just slow it down and be a lump of kissable, squeezable heaven for a bit longer... but she has these tremendous big sisters around her doing all kinds of exciting things and she wants to play too. So much for keeping your kittens small and fluffy...
Grannies around the neighborhood swoon when they make Penny smile (which is not that hard, she smiles at creepy toothless drunks and coconuts at the market) and makes moms with two kids say, "Wow. We do think about having another one of these days." (Intoxicating baby vapors seeping from her pores!!)
Fuck it though. She's going to grow up. And there will be times when I'll ask myself, "how the hell did I get myself into this Mom business", or "where did my tiny baby go?"; and there will be times when I'll know that the process of helping my children grow into good people is the best thing I have to offer the world. I just wish it seemed like some of the great moments in my kids lives were happening in slow motion so I could fully appreciate every important detail... or that we could have brief rewinds to snuggle into the back of their tiny baby necks.
Or better yet, I would love to fast forward through cold and flu season.
Happy Pneu Year!!!
There it is folks... the quintessential descriptive photo of Christmas '07! Ruby and Eloise sacked out in the stroller with pneumonia. From my perspective, this has been a rough time watching these little lovelies try to enjoy their holidays feeling like complete crap. They use the nebulizer for asthma and breathing difficulties every 4 hours, they are on antibiotics that aren't helping and they get horrible diarrhea as a side effect. The intense coughing makes them vomit and Myles and I also managed to get a 48 hour stomach virus in the middle of all of this.
Oh yes, and Penny has a cold. She's doing alright for now. We are really a fucking mess though.
Myles' dad made the trip down for Xmas dinner at my mom's house and got to witness Ru and El's intense desire for presents. Once we opened our goodies here, we then headed to Milton, where a large crowd of excellent family friends bestowed gifts on the "sickies"... but once the goodies stopped flowing, Eloise was hanging on my sleeve whining, "are there any more presents" over and over, like a meth addict looking for a fix! Presents are like crack-cocaine to a 3 year old. And the worst of it was that Eloise got to the point where she would unwrap a book and say, "that's not a good present!". HORRORS! What was I to do?
Actually, there was a fair amount of giggling about the girls' behavior - everybody was aware of their sad feverish demeanors and understood what was going on in the "manners" department. But honestly, I had forgotten that gifts could make kids into such monsters.
Oh yes, and Penny has a cold. She's doing alright for now. We are really a fucking mess though.
Myles' dad made the trip down for Xmas dinner at my mom's house and got to witness Ru and El's intense desire for presents. Once we opened our goodies here, we then headed to Milton, where a large crowd of excellent family friends bestowed gifts on the "sickies"... but once the goodies stopped flowing, Eloise was hanging on my sleeve whining, "are there any more presents" over and over, like a meth addict looking for a fix! Presents are like crack-cocaine to a 3 year old. And the worst of it was that Eloise got to the point where she would unwrap a book and say, "that's not a good present!". HORRORS! What was I to do?
Actually, there was a fair amount of giggling about the girls' behavior - everybody was aware of their sad feverish demeanors and understood what was going on in the "manners" department. But honestly, I had forgotten that gifts could make kids into such monsters.
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Rockefeller Center!
All seven of us wandered down 5th Avenue after our dinner - my dad proudly pushing Penny in the stroller while Myles and I took turns carrying the big girls and pointing out the beautiful window displays. Upon arrival at the big tree, I noticed my dad's eyes all welled up with tears. He confesses that the whole experience just reminds him of coming to Rock Center with his parents, sneaking a peek through the crowds and bundling up together for warmth.
I must say, seeing your grandchildren experience these old family traditions has to have twice the cheese-factor impact. The fact that my DAD - of all people - was filled with sentimental warmth and coziness just makes me proud. Here's a guy who still thinks George Bush is doing an "okay" job... (I cannot believe I just admitted that to my blog readers, but if you know me well enough, you knew that anyway... sorry to disappoint those in the dark) and most of the time I like to write off my dad as being devoid of all human emotion. But there it is! Holiday traditions, family, "American" Christmas hoo-ha... it really pulls at a Republican's heartstrings.
So although I don't agree with his politics, I'm happy that I can occasionally relate to my dad's sentimentality. I remember that he has always kept my mind aware of how the "other side" feels (or doesn't feel!) and for that, I am grateful.
Ruby, Eloise and Penny, what will you teach me when I am old? You have already taught me that living in Manhattan with a family would be next to impossible... unless we won the lottery. What's next?
I must say, seeing your grandchildren experience these old family traditions has to have twice the cheese-factor impact. The fact that my DAD - of all people - was filled with sentimental warmth and coziness just makes me proud. Here's a guy who still thinks George Bush is doing an "okay" job... (I cannot believe I just admitted that to my blog readers, but if you know me well enough, you knew that anyway... sorry to disappoint those in the dark) and most of the time I like to write off my dad as being devoid of all human emotion. But there it is! Holiday traditions, family, "American" Christmas hoo-ha... it really pulls at a Republican's heartstrings.
So although I don't agree with his politics, I'm happy that I can occasionally relate to my dad's sentimentality. I remember that he has always kept my mind aware of how the "other side" feels (or doesn't feel!) and for that, I am grateful.
Ruby, Eloise and Penny, what will you teach me when I am old? You have already taught me that living in Manhattan with a family would be next to impossible... unless we won the lottery. What's next?
Finger Lickin' Good!
BLT Steak. A phenomenal restaurant. I was so well fed and so buzzed by the end of my meal. Is it obnoxious that I took my 3 kids to such a swanky place? I felt like that twitty person that Sex and the City would make fun of... the annoying shit that ruins people's dining experience... except for the fact that my kids were angelic. Penny barely let out a peep! (For the record, she was changed on the bathroom floor of 3 very glam places - no changing tables to be had anywhere. The new Marc Jacobs collection store had such a delicious smelling bathroom that I decided to cart out the poopy diaper in my diaper bag, for fear of being a terrible space-contaminator).
My Parents Rock
Without these two we wouldn't have made it through our weekend in NYC. First and foremost, Manhattan hotels are completely unaffordable, so we are most thankful for their gift of a place to stay, but we also needed their extra hands to assist us in getting from place to place, restaurant to restaurant, cab to cab. New York is just plain nutty. Decadent, rushed, beautiful, filthy, impeccable and surreal. The entire trip sent my head spinning - honestly. After jetting around to all kinds of sights and shops I would sit down for a minute and have difficulty focusing on objects and keeping the room still. (That's without a glass of wine people...)
At the end of the day it was lovely to have my dad torture my mother in a photo session with Ruby's new unicorn. She was so completely irritated by his antics. I love that shit.
At the end of the day it was lovely to have my dad torture my mother in a photo session with Ruby's new unicorn. She was so completely irritated by his antics. I love that shit.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
After Many Days of Hard Work...
Eloise has mastered the letter "S"! In her elated state she managed to accentuate her work with a fine portrait of me with earrings. (Don't you like my hair?) Watching the girls work out their different skills has been incredible - every moment at school has made them even more curious about their world and their abilities. Ruby has been able to hold a pen correctly since she was 22 months old, and Eloise has struggled to do the same thing. Instead she would put up a fight and throw down her marker if we suggested that she hold it differently... so I backed off with my "suggestions", and she now seems happy to write and draw with the right grip and everything.
What an accomplishment though - reading and writing letters! It's the beginning of my childrens' literacy... an enormous and beautiful time when kids open the door to a new kind of creativity and self-expression.
Ooooh! I absolutely love spelling!! So much to look forward too in this school-age business...
What an accomplishment though - reading and writing letters! It's the beginning of my childrens' literacy... an enormous and beautiful time when kids open the door to a new kind of creativity and self-expression.
Ooooh! I absolutely love spelling!! So much to look forward too in this school-age business...
Happy 35th to Myles
And a Happy Thanksgiving too... we had a great time in Brattleboro celebrating with turkey and my german chocolate cake. Before dinner Ruby and Eloise hiked up a small mountain for 3 hours with the rest of the gang while I stayed in the house with Penny and made icing. All in all it was a total success.
A ton of things have been going on over the last few weeks - many thoughts related to my 2 trips to Vermont and some serious time to think while on the road.
Is it a surprise to any of you that I just love to cook? If only there were more hours in the day to make perfect meals...
A ton of things have been going on over the last few weeks - many thoughts related to my 2 trips to Vermont and some serious time to think while on the road.
Is it a surprise to any of you that I just love to cook? If only there were more hours in the day to make perfect meals...
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