Showing posts with label childhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label childhood. Show all posts

Thursday, August 16, 2001

Raising Chloe, Raising Arizona, Washing Machines and West Shore Road Memories



Pictured is of course the lovely new addition to my extended circle of friends, apologies to Bonnie and Duncan but she's so stinkin freakin cute that I could not resist lifting the picture from the hospital nursery page and posting it.

Meet our friend Chloe.

Man is she gorgeous or what? I love that hair, and I love how babies just always have their hands up by their mouths or cheeks... I went through most of the pictures on the hospital site and all the babies were there with hands up, ready to raise the roof. Only a couple were so deep in sleep that their hands were nowhere to be seen.

My friend Lori went through the site. She saw Chloe and swore she was the cutest baby on the page, then proceeded to rag on all the other babies! We had a good laugh making fun of names and making fun of kids that were born without the benefit of being cute like our woman up here. I feel sorry for babies when they're butt ugly. I mean, they just came down the narrowest passage of their lives, got battered, bumped and bruised, and they look like who did it and ran, and here we are picking on them. Poor things. hee hee hee. But this is one good looking kid and the respective Bonnie and Duncan clans should be right proud.

Now, I'm gushing praise and schmoopy-doos over here for this kid and one of my co-workers asked me if i wanted to have another.

Let's get one thing straight here, dear reader, unless God Himself wills it, I'm not putting myself through another labor and delivery again. The pregnancy part, okay. Those were fun. I loved feeling the babies move, each had a personality before they came to the light. Geoff always had the hiccups... on a daily basis I could count on at least a round of 20 minutes or so of him jerking like a freak. Towards the end when things got cramped in there for her, Jessica would stretch her legs, and I have a distinct memory of playing with her feet up right below my left bottom rib, and I'd push back at her, and we'd play. We'd play. I played with my kids and knew them well before I ever even laid eyes on them. Those are very special moments.

But I don't want to repeat the thing, the unspeakably painful thing, one must endure to get to the point of laying eyes on them. Shudder. Quake. Ugh. No. So for me, I'll enjoy playing with my kids now that they're on the outside and I will live vicariously through friends like Bonnie who have new ones for me to cuddle. Speaking of which, here's the segue to the next topic...

One of my favorite movies ever is 'Raising Arizona.' I love when Glen is telling H.I. that Dot wants another baby because "Thesuns is gettin' too big to cuddle." That kills me. All like 9 kids are running around wrecking stuff ("Now you take that diaper off your head and you put it back on your sister!") and writing on the walls, breaking things, and these parents are just standing around all stupid and proud of the brood and shit. And there's poor H.I., overwhelmed at what his sudden vision of parenting is. These kids can eat you alive... and Ed is suddenly overwhelmed by Dot "Hi, We got the dip.tet for him yet? We got a pediatrician???" at the responsibilities.

Having two is enough for me. But H.I. stands there with this look on his face that kills me. With his eyes huge and wide, mouth gaping open. Oh My God, what HAVE I just gotten myself into.

All parents should feel that way. Shocked. Stymied. Overwhelmed. Then you shake it off, blink a couple times, shut your gaping mouth so you don't catch any flies and get in there and do the job. Once in a while you'll feel like H.I. again, but standing around gapemawed isn't going to do any good.


We went out last night and bought a new washing machine so that gets delivered a week from today. I'm relieved. This weekend we're going to Maine, to see Wayne and Marcia. They have a great house, and hopefully Chris and Laurel will be there too. It's been a while since we've seen them. I feel like I need a weekend of kid related fun. Where the kids entertain themselves and have fun, and I lean back and watch. I'm sure there will be some good stories out of that.

And I wanted to make a short list of stuff I remember from the House on West Shore Road. When I was little we lived in a house in NY on West Shore Road, and I think most of my clearest memories are from there. Here are a couple:

  • I had an easy bake oven. It worked.
  • I had white furniture, and my room was up on the third floor, there were 2 rooms up there, the back room was mine, the front room was Linda's
  • I remember a tree broke one of my windows in a storm. I think there were four windows in the room, and the one that broke was on the left side of the room as you stood in the doorway.
  • A cat of ours, I think it was Smokey, my mom's FAVORITE cat, had kittens in my bedroom closet and I touched them all and she killed them (not a good memory... someone correct me if that one is fictional).
  • Once my cousins came down to visit from Cape Cod and Billy and I got to sleep in the same bed. My parents pushed my bed, which had a princess canopy on it, so the foot of the bed was against the closet door and Billy slept at the foot of the bed. We got yelled at a TON of times for not going to sleep and being silly.
  • I used to melt crayons on the light bulb in my bedroom. I think it was a clown lamp, and I loved the smell of the crayola crayons melting on the light. Then I'd let the light bulb cool off and I'd peel the wax off. My mom caught me and I got in trouble.
  • You could see the hospital from the balcony on my parents' room, and at Christmas they put this crazy "tree" of lights up there, and I remember standing looking at it for hours.

Okay, that's enough for today. I've got more, but I need to go home to my family. I also have to schlep some clothing to the laundromat because I have NOTHING to wear and I think Geoff has no more underpants... So I'll do a quickie load and then finish everything up on Saturday morning before we trek to Maine.

Monday, August 13, 2001

I need a weekend from my weekend.

My parents left this morning after staying at the way out inn for an extended period of time. We did ditch the kids ont hem twice but should have ditched them nightly. We could have had much more fun. Oh well. Coulda Woulda Shoulda. My Aunt Carole and Uncle Jim celebrate their 40th anniversary this month so their kids threw a whizz bang shindig for them. They didn't get to have a big old wedding reception back in the day, so this was what they deserved.

We all went down and got to hang with the extended cousins crew, the little ones got to dance like freaks which is always good... wears them out as if we'd worked them in a factory for 13 hours a day. Geoff was out cold in the car before we hit route 3 north on the way home. I won't write in detail here about the names and faces of the cousins, it isn't appropriate. Suffice to say I dig their stylie selves and wish we could spend more time together.


I did however get to spend some fun time with my sister Linda (pictured here in most unflattering form doing her "Grandma" imitation...and isn't she just SO going to kill me for it too...). She came up from New York for the weekend and we had a nice time. We both kvetched about life and mom and little annoying things. She has an amazing memory. I can't remember half the shit from our shared childhood... I should write down stuff I remember to see if it triggers other stuff. But Linda just has this detailed memory of all the little things, and it cracks my shit right up.

Take for instance this little anecdote: our washing machine bought the farm last week and even though Doug worked his ass off trying to repair the old girl (SO proud of him, yes I am!), we've determined that it is not worth it... and she'll just have to go and we'll use that all important tax "refund" to buy a new one. So when I told Linda, and she heard the words "Washing Machine" she launched into this little song that we used to sing when we were little...

"Washin' Macheeeeeeen, washin' macheeeeeen, washa washa washa washa washin' macheeeeeeen!" We used to stand in the water at the beach and swing our arms back and forth like the inner workings of a Lady Kenmore and sing this ridiculous little ditty, all the while laughing our little asses off.

When she sang that, I was shocked. It took me a minute to recognize as I had TOTALLY forgotten that song. But suddenly, there we were, clear as a bell at Gold Star Beach in Huntington standing near the concrete pipe that brought runoff down from the streets of Southdown, singing "Washin' Macheeeeeeeen!" And I bet at the time that she couldn't have been older than two. I can see her with her long white hair and her little tiny buddah belly, and me with my short little shag haircut, doin' the washin' macheeeeen.

It's amazing.

She also has an uncanny ability to read my mind. Right when my mom does something that drives me crazy (do NOT ask me for an example or we'll be here all damn day) or I'm tempted to SAY something to my mom, Linda will not even make eye contact with me, but say softly "let it go... just let it go. It isn't worth it..." and I start laughing.

We decided that someday when Auntie Lee Lee gets married (BAAAAAAHHHH! inside joke) we're going to do some half drunk retarded karaoke duet, with her in her gown and me crammed into a corset and a dress that makes me look like a natural casing sausage, and we'll make everyone laugh their asses off.

We are two funny babes when we get going.

Maybe we'll sing "Washing Machine..."

Here's one of my favorite pictures ever of Linda, with my kids, about 2 summers ago, maybe three, and the kids look more like they belong to her than to me. Funny.


We also dog sat this weekend for my buddies Dan and Honey. They went to Baltimore for the weekend so we got their two dogs, Tiger and Buddy. I enjoy these dogs a lot, and Kinger does too. He likes having playmates. They all got along so well, and we played hours of fetch. I was sad to see them go when Dan came to get them.

Dan and Honey also picked up an Orioles Tshirt for Geoff... and he loves it. So they are king and queen in our book. Geoff does the funniest thing, when he has to leave Dan or our other buddy Ben, he gets so sad and does this horrible weeping/melodramatic heartbreaking departure scene, and cries for a half hour as if his entire soul is being wrenched from his body... He doesn't do that when I leave... which bums me out. But it is cute to see him love someone so much that it makes him cry.


What else can I report on... Oh! The best news of the weekend is Bonnie and Duncan had the baby last night! I called their house just hoping to leave a message inquiring on how the belly was doing, and much to my amazement found they had their calls forwarded to the cell phone or hopsital room or something, and lo and behold she'd hatched. Baby Girl, Chloe Mae, 7lb, 15oz., healthy, and mom sounded relieved to be done. Congrats to them! Their hospital posts baby pics online, so when that's available I will link over to it. Or just steal the picture, heh heh. If they don't mind.


I rented "Saving Silverman" on our Blockbuster 30 movies deal... It wasn't very good. But my buddy Jack Black, pictured left, ("High Fidelity," "Mars Attacks!" and "Tenacious D") was in it and was really funny.

Jack plays J.D., a really stupid moron who grows up with his two best friends, Wayne and Darren. Darren is sad because he keeps getting dissed by women, and longs to meet his one and only, his special someone. In attempts to be encouraging, they push Darren over to Judith, played passably by Amanda Peet. She begins to control his life down to "allowing" him to masturbate, and the two losers left behind then realize that Judith isn't the right kinda gal for their lifelong friend and they try to save their buddy from the grasp of the controling manipulative bitch.

The premise of the film was funny... the overall presentation rather pedestrian. A couple funny scenes, a great chase scene, horrible ending, and some incredibly dumb dialog pretty much sum the film up... In the end, everyone does find their special someone, complete with a wedding brawl and a gay marriage... and they live happily ever after, we suppose.

The BEST part of this movie is the fact the three friends are in a Neil Diamond tribute band. Neil Diamond actually saves the day in the film. Damn funny plot twist there. And he seems like a really good sport. See pictured above wondering to himself "How did my career ever sink this low!" Jack Black is rocking out there in the middle next to Jason Biggs, who I swear is about 20 years younger than Jack. Whatever.

I rented "Barenaked in America" a documentary about my favoritest band to date, Barenaked Ladies. I went to watch it last night with Jessica and there was a big warning about sexually explicit content, nudity and adult language and themes... so I rethought allowing her to see it. I'll watch it tonight and determine if she can see it... she's a big fan as well.

Well this entry certainly is much longer than I originally intended. Damn. So much to say, so much to say, so much to say... open up my head and let me out. Little Baby!