Second Blooming

Camp Mama 2011: The Wrap-up

Camp Mama 2011 has officially come to a close. I feel that despite the fact that the child ended up in both an infirmary...

 

and an emergency room...

 

...the summer went fairly well. Don't you?

And it was fast, wasn't it? Is it like that for everybody? One week you're wondering how the hell you're going to entertain your kid for the whole long, grueling summer and the next week they're off to Third Grade in their brand spanking new school uniform. Brand spanking new because Jude suddenly and drastically outgrew ALL of his old uniforms. Ergh.

 

So...my summer, in brief. Hmmm. I think it's time for some bullet points...

• The token rewards program was mostly successful. It actually got Jude to do something with his life beyond whining that he wanted to watch the stupid television. He actually did some reading, and finished about half of his Summer Bridge Activities book. The Summer Bridge Activities book has become something of a joke between us. Now, every time he starts to whine that he's bored and has nothing to do, I suggest he could always do a couple of pages in his Summer Bridge Activities book, and he screams "Noooooooo!!!" rather dramatically and runs from the room.
• I have now officially had enough of the camping. Enough. Of. The. Camping. That said...we have another Cub Scout campout on September 10.
• I have now officially NOT had enough of all those high-brow British TV shows I've been obsessively watching on Netflix. I just can't get enough of those sexy Brits. I stopped sharing my favorites with y'all because I kind of started to worry that you'd think I'd lost my mind. Over the last couple of months, I've watched every single episode of - "Sherlock", "Luther", "Collision", "Place of Execution", "The Last Enemy" and "Jekyll", and I'm on Episode 4 of "George Gently". Too much? You think? Nah!
• Last Friday, I FINALLY made it to a Beach Friday! Woot! As many of you may remember from summers past, Beach Friday is the standing beach date that Jude and I look forward to every year – about 20 moms and 40 kids who always meet at the same beach at the same time every Friday throughout the summer. But through a series of strange twists of fate (camping, New York, working commercial jobs, child with stitches across his face) I had missed them ALL (though Jude had gone a couple of times, in the company of friends) until last week. What fun! Man, I had missed this group. Especially now that Jude is “Water Boy” and will just hang out and boogie board with his friends, and I don’t have to worry about him too much. I can just sit and sun myself and gossip. Nice. We’ll have one last Beach Friday this week and I’m DETERMINED for us to be there.
• I have been told that I now have a tan. As in “Wow, look at you! You’re all tan!” Isn’t that wacky? I haven’t had an actual, REAL tan since about 1991, or whenever it was decided that the sun ages you. Notice that my motivation for avoiding the sun was not CANCER, but fear of wrinkles. And I must admit that I’m not really very tan, just more tan than my usual pasty self.
• Jude’s best playdate of the summer? Last week, he had his friend A.J. over. After playing their way through all the games on the Wii, they finally decided they were bored of it and went outside to play. Let me repeat myself, in a slightly louder voice. THEY GOT BORED OF THE WII AND CHOSE TO PLAY OUTSIDE. This is a previously unheard of phenomenon. It was a hot day. After a while, they ran in the house, started laughing hysterically, peeled all of their clothes off, ran back out into the backyard and started jumping naked on the trampoline. I, rather subversively, snuck outside, attached the sprayer nozzle to the hose, and blasted them with water. They went crazy. They were jumping. They were wet and muddy. They were naked. It was like Woodstock. After A.J. left, Jude turned to me and breathlessly stated "Best. Playdate. Ever."
• Even after all that hiking at Cub Scout Camp, even after all those pilates classes, I didn’t lose ANY weight all summer. Maybe next year I’ll make it into that bikini. NOT.

Okay, so that’s what I did during my summer vacation. And since that just happens to be the theme of the Spin Cycle this week…

 

PLEASE run on over to Sprite's Keeper to find out how everybody else spent their summer vacations.

RTT: Walmart, Earthquake and Chaz

It's finally HOT here in Los Angeles. After having a wonderfully mellow, moderate summer thus far, it has been in the 90s for the past week. Ergh. No, we don't have any air conditioning. But I feel bad complaining, as my friends in Texas have been suffering FEROCIOUSLY this summer. I have the Austin temperature programmed into my iPhone, and every day I stare at it in wonder. It's been over 100 every day for months! Crazy, man! I have called my best friend, Kaysie THREE times now, and she hasn't returned my call. I sincerely hope she hasn't melted. KAYSIE! IF YOU READ THIS CALL ME BACK!

Anyway, it's hot. The good news? It's still Mojito season!!

Hmmmmmmmmmmmm. I must have some randomness rattling around in my brain...

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Hurray! My Walmart commercial is running!

 

It's pretty cute, right? Yes, I know I'm pimping the evil Walmart, but I'm a whore, what can I say? I am only on screen for about 2 1/2 seconds, but fear not, it all pays the same. I need to ask y'all for a favor. My agents like me to keep track of when/where anyone sees it, just to check up on the folks who are tracking it. So if you see it, let me know where you are, what you were watching (both channel and show) and what time of day it was. Woot!

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Jude has decided that a DS3D would make his life complete. For those of you out of the loop, a DS3D is the newest Nintendo handheld device. It is costly. I have told Jude that if he can make Honors all the way to Christmas, then we can ask Santa to bring him this DS3D thingy. Jude the Wise then said "You know, it's really smart of you to save it for Christmas. Then we can get Santa to pay for it!"

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How was the earthquake, all you East Coasters? Scary, right? Freaked you out, right? Welcome to my world! Actually, I have many friends who refuse to live in Los Angeles because they're scared of earthquakes, and to them I say - at least we don't have hurricanes!

Actually, I feel that I should share with you a picture that has been circulating the social media out here in the West...

 

Hehehe. I know, we're cynical and jaded...

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Thank God Mommy doesn't understand the internets! Judy sent me this last week when I was griping about Mommy's fear of lightning. From the Huffington Post's Weird News Department -Alice Svensson, Swedish Girl, Struck By Lightning Twice In Shower. What a relief that Mommy doesn't know anyone in Sweden!

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Okay, I have long ago given up on watching Dancing With the Stars (I think the last season I watched was when Helio won!), but I am so excited about this yea!. I haven't even heard of most of those people, but I am just praying that Chaz Bono kicks that nasty Nancy Grace's butt! Go Chaz!!

 

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I'm afraid that's all I've got, people. I'm sorry that this is a particularly wimpy RTT. I'll try to be better next week. You know, that Mojito I mentioned at the top is sounding pretty good right now. Hmmm...I wonder if I still have some simple syrup.

Don't forget to continue to pray for Jude's friend Gus (see his sweet little face there to the right), who's still very sick.

And please visit Stacy, who is still carrying the ball for Keely with the Random Tuesday Thoughts thing.

Mommy Survives the Disasters

Part One: The Earthquake

Gretchen, having heard about the VA earthquake on CNN, calls Mommy to monitor the level of hysteria.

MOMMY

(almost certainly having had

a medicinal Scotch)

Hello!!

GRETCHEN

Hey Mommy, how are things?

MOMMY

Oh my God! Did you hear about the excitement? We had...

(dramatic pause)

...a EARTHQUAKE.

GRETCHEN

I know, Mommy, I saw it on CNN.

MOMMY

It's on ALL the channels. Every single one.

GRETCHEN

Did you feel it?

MOMMY

Oh YES. I was standing in the kitchen and I felt something kinda

shove me. You know what I thought?

GRETCHEN

No, Mommy, what?

MOMMY

I thought it was the spooks!

GRETCHEN

Spooks?

MOMMY

I thought it was the ghosts fooling with me!

GRETCHEN

Ah.

MOMMY

But then I went into the den and there it was on the tv. A earthquake!

It's on ALL the channels. I tell ya, I'm so shook up I don't know what to do.

GRETCHEN

Well Mommy, I know it must have been kind of freaky,

but it wasn't really too severe of an earthquake. I don't think there

were any injuries, or any damage in the New York area, was there?

MOMMY

Oh YES! Some bricks fell off a building. In Brooklyn!

GRETCHEN

Bricks. Uh huh.

MOMMY

And they say there's gonna be aftershocks! It's on ALL the channels!

GRETCHEN

Yeah. But Mommy, you have to remember that there are always

aftershocks to an earthquake, and you are very far away from the

epicenter of the quake, so I doubt very much that you'll feel them at all.

MOMMY

(doubtful)

Oh, well, maybe so.

GRETCHEN

And all those tv channels...you have to remember that it's their job

to scare you. To report the news, but then repeat the same thing over and

over again. It's what they do.

MOMMY

Oh, well maybe so...

GRETCHEN

I really think that the danger is past.

MOMMY

Mmmm. Well maybe I should just move everything off

all the shelves. Just in case.

GRETCHEN

(sigh...)

Maybe so. Just to be safe.

MOMMY

Okay, I'll do that right now!

GRETCHEN

Good thinking. Because, you know, it's on all the channels.

MOMMY

Yes! ALL of them!

 

Part Two: The Hurricane

The lead up to Hurricane Irene was very involved, and entailed many preparatory phone calls. She was busy for several days, getting everything in order for the big blow.

MOMMY

I need to get Steve to take me to the Waldbaums. So we can stock

up on food. They say we could lose the lights for up to FIVE days!

GRETCHEN

Well that's a good idea, Mommy. Make sure you have batteries

and maybe some bottled water, just to be safe.

MOMMY

I want to stock up on milk.

GRETCHEN

(sigh...)

Well Mommy, don't you think it would be better to stock

up on foods that aren't...perishable? If the electricity's gonna go out?

MOMMY

Well, I need milk. How else am I gonna eat my Honey Nut Cheerios?!

She was also very adamant that Pop haul in the ice chests from the garage.

MOMMY

They say that if we don't touch nothing in the fridge, things will

stay good without the electricity for several days.

GRETCHEN

I think that's true.

MOMMY

But I want to have the ice chests so if the fridge starts to warm

up, I can move all the meat into the ice chests and keep it cold with ice.

GRETCHEN

But Mommy, if the refrigerator's been out for several days...

where are you going to get the ice?

MOMMY

(stumped)

Huh?

GRETCHEN

If you haven't had electricity for several days, where are you

going to get the ice?

MOMMY

(fumbling)

We'll...get it...at the...Waldbaums!

GRETCHEN

Well don't you think that if you don't have electricity

at your house, they won't have electricity at the Waldbaums?

[Author's Note: Waldbaums Supermarket is 1 block from Mommy's house]

MOMMY

(undaunted)

Then we'll get the ice from...the ice store.

GRETCHEN

(damn, she's good)

Good idea, Mommy.

Arguments evolved between Mommy and...well, everyone.

Aunt Grace was determined to stick it out in her apartment in Manhattan. Mommy, of course, thought Grace had completely lost her mind, and was beside herself with worry and anger. I understood some of what Mommy was saying - Grace was on the 26th floor, which would probably get blown pretty seriously if the hurricane stayed strong enough, and, more importantly, it's a whole lotta stairs to walk down if they lost electricity, and the elevators stopped working. And she is, you know, almost 80. And she's extremely stubborn, pretty much thick as a brick.

But when I spoke with Grace, it became clear that she was preparing herself very well. She had been to the D'Agostino's and stocked up on pasta, cheddar Goldfish, and red wine. She also bought a new flashlight, water and candles. She was good to go.

Mommy's argument with Pop was about the car. Pop has a brand new car, a Mazda, which they both consider very modern and youthful, having only ever owned American-made cars. Mommy was very worried about the car, and wanted Pop to pull it into the garage. Unfortunately, they haven't used the garage to house a car since 1977, and it's pretty full of boxes and lawn furniture and stuff. Pop refused to move everything just to put the car in there for one night.

Again, in some ways Mommy was right. Pop parks the car directly under a huge, old-growth tree, and in past hurricanes, they've ended up with the yard full of branches. It probably would have been a good idea to pull the thing inside, just in case.

But I'm afraid that we all tend to react to Mommy's hysteria in the same way - we become uber relaxed and Zen. The more nuts she gets, the more cavalier we become about impending danger.

When I spoke with her Sunday morning, after Hurricane Irene blew through, bless her heart, she wouldn't give an inch.

Grace had completely redeemed her decision to stay in her apartment by getting up at 5 o'clock on Sunday morning and finding rain leaking in from the terrace door onto her hardwoods. She was able to mop it up with "old towels" before any damage was done. She was very careful to note that they were the "old towels".  Remember that Grace is the tidiest woman on the planet, and the only thing worse than damaged hardwoods would be mopping up rainwater with the good towels.

And of course, Pop's car was just fine. But Mommy kept trying...

MOMMY

Steve's car is just COVERED with leaves. It's terrible!

GRETCHEN

Leaves. Goodness gracious.

MOMMY

And they say that there may still be more wind. A branch

could STILL come down and hit the car!

GRETCHEN

You just never know.

MOMMY

And the yard is FULL of branches. I'm telling ya, it's gonna

take a LOT of work to get it cleaned up!

GRETCHEN

Don't you have a yardman who will do that kind of thing for you?

MOMMY

Well, yes, but it's gonna be a LOT of work for him!

GRETCHEN

Mmm. You're probably right about that.

MOMMY

And the puddles! Ah, the puddles are EVERYWHERE!

And you know what?! Yesterday the priest said that all the

masses for this morning were CANCELLED. Can you imagine?

You know it must have been very serious if they cancelled all

the masses!

 

I'm thinking that the priest and all the channels must be working together. 

 

 

Gus

I want to show y'all a couple of pictures from our recent Cub Scout camp.

See the Webelos with the attitude, looking at the camera...

 

And here he is again, second from the left, next to Jude...

 

That's Gus.

Gus is very sick.

And he and his family are facing a long and painful treatment road ahead.

Gus is one of my favorite boys in the world. This kid is a character, and I mean that in the best way possible. He has personality. He has attitude. He is funny. He is confident. He is fearless. He is also very kind and respectful, and Jude adores him. He's that kid who all the camp counselors who were there last year remembered by name. He is everybody's friend.

And I believe that part of the reason that Gus is so filled with piss and vinegar is that this is not his first experience with illness. When he was just a toddler, Gus and his family spent about a year fighting. Multiple operations. Stem cell treatments. And he not only survived, he flourished.

Gus's parents are extremely fine people. People whom I like and admire tremendously. When we were at camp, I had a long conversation with Gus's dad about the previous illness, and the love and devotion the man feels for his son was absolutely palpable. It's clear that they're both incredibly grateful to have this amazing kid.

Since I found out the news the other day, I have been absolutely beside myself. I just can't imagine the pain and fear they are all going through right now. 

And since the only thing I can do to help them is pray, I am asking you all to join me. PLEASE hold Gus and his family in your prayers. Pray for healing. Pray for strength. And if you're not a prayerful person, please send them white light, healing energy, good vibes, whatever you believe in. I know it all goes to the same place.

I've added that little picture to the right, so you'll remember to keep praying. I'll keep it there until he's well.  Thank you.

Spin Cycle: French Fried

When I was in 10th Grade, I made one of the more ridiculous decisions of my life.

That was the year when I was asked to choose a foreign language to study in high school.

So, did I, a young woman who lived in TEXAS, a state which borders MEXICO, choose to learn the ever practical and useful Spanish?

Au contraire.

I chose...Francais. French, the language of amour. The language with that certain je ne sais quoi.

Because I, young sophisticate that I was, would certainly never need something as pedestrian, as... bourgeois as Spanish! Tres gauche.

I was meant for things.... aristocratic. Continental. Certainly, my future would be far beyond the borders of any place as provincial as...Texas.

In truth? I was a snotty little thing. As was my best friend, Kaysie, who had already taken a year of French, and was eager to be able to speak badly pronounced French avec moi. Which we did, often, and to the annoyance and frustration to those around us, those...uneducated friends, who didn't understand our language.

Thus I began three years of the study of French. My first French teacher? Mrs. Damon. Yes, Johanna, I'm talking about you. You, dear readers, will enjoy knowing that my high school French teacher, Mrs. Damon, reads my blog! Don't you love that?! Le monde est tres petit, non?

I remember that we were each asked to choose a French name. I was Catherine. Pronounced the French way, of course. Kaysie chose to call herself Angelique, after the lusty and tempestuous heroine of a series of trashy novels we were obsessed with. "Angelique", "Angelique in Love", "Angelique and the King". Fine literature.

We then began learning of the adventures of Paul et Therese, two French children who inhabited our French textbook. Paul et Therese would go to la bibliothèque, where they would check out un livre. "Avez-vous un crayon Therese?" "Oui Paul, je fais."

I'm afraid that for French II and French III, I did NOT have Mrs. Damon, and my French suffered. And I'm not just saying that because she's a reader, it's really true. For French II, I had a young teacher from New Jersey, who seemed afraid of us, and taught us little.

For French III, we had a teacher who was actually French, named Madame Blanchette. Madame Blanchette hated us all. We were, after all, snotty little Texas children, who must have had the WORSE pronunciation of her native language imaginable. And she was...you know...French. I also remember quite a bit of spit wad shooting (not sure how to say "spit wad" en Francais) and I also have a frightening memory of a particular project in which we created a French radio station which we gave the call letters FROG. Which I'm thinking didn't go over very well with Madame Blanchette.

I have just uncovered something I haven't looked at in many years. Here is what Kaysie wrote in my 10th Grade yearbook...

Chere Gretchen,

Tu seras toujours une tres bonne amie. J'ecris en francais parce que la longue est tres jolie. Je pense que vous etes une personne magnifique. Est-il necessaire pour moi a dire plus que cel? J'e'spere que dans le future nous perrons lire cette lettre et eclirons parce que ma grammaire est  incomprendable. (J'ai invente ce mot "incomprendable"??)

Je t'aime toujours,

Votre amie,

Kaysie

Which, roughly translated, means...

Dear Gretchen,

You will always be a very good girlfriend.  I write in French because the long one is very pretty.  I think that you are a magnificent person.  Is it necessary for me has to say more than that?  I hope that in the future one us perrons [not a word, apparently] to read this letter and eclirons [again, not a word] because my grammar is incomprendable.  (I have invents this word "incomprendable"??) [yes, she did]

I like you always,

Your girlfriend,

Kaysie

I hate to say it Mrs. Damon, but French has not proven to be particularly helpful for me in my life. I moved from Texas to...no, not Europe, or...Montreal, but California. A place where I am in need of the Spanish language even more than in Texas.

Alas, the only way I ever use my minimal knowledge of French nowadays is reading cosmetics bottles. Poorly. Okay very poorly. I'm afraid I have retained little.

Let's try a little test. Here is the French written on my tube of Lancome Gel Exfoliant Clarifiant (Clarifying Exfoliating Gel)...

Ce gel exfoliant doux au grain fin contient des microspheres et des extraits d'ananas et de papaye. Il s'utilise tous les jours pour eliminer le maquillage et les impurites qui ternissent le teint et sont source d'imperfections. Il laisse la peau lisse, clarifiee et rayonnant de proprete.

Appliquer sur visage et cou humides. Rincer a l'eau tiede. Eviter tout contact avec les yeux. En cas de contact, laver a l'eau.

And here is my attempt at a translation...

This exfoliating gel has the finely grained content of little balls and the extracts of bananas and papaya. It can be used all the time for eliminating the makeup and dirt that damages the tint and causes imperfections. It leaves the little skin clear and full of propriety.

Apply on the face and the humidity. Rinse with water that's...tied. Avoid all contact with the eyes. In case of contact, wash with the water.

So how'd I do? Mrs. Damon? Johanna? You there? I'm afraid it's been 30+ years since you taught me, so please forgive.

Jude has been taking Spanish since Kindergarten. He gets all A's. Which amazes me, as it's his only subject in which I can offer him absolutely ZERO help. He already knows far more Spanish than I do. I keep saying that I will someday take a class at the local community college. Which seems like a very good idea.

Or as Paul et Therese would say "Tres bien. Excellente idee!"

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S'il vous plaît visiter Le Gardien de Sprite pour plus de rotations de "la langue".

 

Third

Jude's a Third Grader!

Which is freaking me out. THIRD Grade? How on earth did this happen? It seems like yesterday when he was this guy...

 

...heading off for his first day of preschool. Look at that little cutie pootie teeny weeny sweety peety little guy! Sigh...

(Gretchen takes a little break while she composes her hormonal self)

Third Grade seems like it's going to be intense. I mean, they seem to be expected to...know stuff. I hear that they're only allowed to write CURSIVE this year. Which means that Jude will be writing very ssslllloooowwwlllyyy. He's not exactly Mr. Fine Motor Skills. And there's gonna be multiplication tables and book reports! This is serious stuff.

His teacher assigned them all two summer reading projects - books to read, then crafty projects to put together. Which seems like a lot to me. I don't remember ever having summer homework. But he did them (begrudgingly), with only a little help from me, and they don't look too bad.

Jude and I dropped by his school yesterday to take a peek at his classroom and introduce ourselves to his new teacher, Mrs. Chun. Who seems absolutely darling. I've heard good things about her. Hopefully, she'll teach him a thing or two. Jude, of course, started regaling the poor woman with his Raging Waters/stitches episode, acting it out very dramatically. I'm hoping she was charmed and not horrified.

I am a bit worried about one thing though. When we looked around his classroom, we located his desk - Mrs. Chun had arranged the little desks in groups of 5, pushed together to face each other in little groups. And in Jude's group it's Jude, one boy, and ALL THREE of the girls he wants to marry. Which I fear may be...distracting for him. On the other hand, maybe he'll stay very focused in an attempt to impress them all with his brilliance. As opposed to attempting to impress them with his fart noises, which is more likely.

I didn't much like Third Grade.

 

That's me - fourth from the left on the top row, between D.R. Dickey and Daniel Malin.

I don't know why I didn't like it, except that my best friend, Kaysie, wasn't in my class, which seems to have been the sole criteria I used when deciding whether or not I liked every class I was in from 1st to 12th Grade.

I did, however, love my Third Grade teacher, Mrs. Adams. She was very tall and lovely, and had that big bouffant hairdo. And having a tall and lovely teacher is an important thing when you are that little girl who was always the tallest girl in the class, and always stood between D.R. Dickey and Daniel Malin.

It's funny, I was showing that picture up there to Jude, and I was able to remember the name of every single kid. Ten of them are my friends on Facebook (including D.R. Dickey and Daniel Malin!). So I guess Third Grade was more important than I remember.

So good luck to my little Third Grader. Mama's proud of you. Do your best and you will have a memorable year. And hopefully learn some stuff while you're at it.

RTT: The In-laws Recap

Jude and I have returned from New York!!

I am really quite exhausted. Too exhausted to go into detail about most of our trip (and yes, I realize that few of you would have any real interest in reading the details of our trip), so I will try to sum up the highlights as Random Tuesday Thoughts...

Last Friday, my brother in-law Tony took Jude and me into NYC for a clipper ship journey around the tip of Manhattan - from the South Street Seaport, past the Brooklyn Bridge, Ellis Island, the Statue of Liberty and back. It really was cool. Here's Jude helping to hoist the mainsail...

 

The kid then found the best seat on the ship - the "I'm the king of the world!" spot right at the front of the bow...

 

I definitely recommend this tour if you're ever in NYC. The boat trip was really relaxing and perfect for a hot city day. And there's a bar on the boat! I sidled up to the bartender and asked him for something "sailorish" and he suggested a Dark and Stormy, which he said was a "pirate's drink" so of course I went for it. A Dark and Stormy is dark rum, ginger beer and a slice of lime. The ginger beer is ter settle yer sea sickness, an' the lime is ter fight aginst the scurvy. Gar!

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I have, over the years, talked about my sister-in-law, the amazing Niki, many times. But what I think I have failed to mention, is that she has recently lost 70 POUNDS! She looks amazing. And feels GREAT. Every time I come to visit, Niki and I always sneak off and spend a day shopping together in a local mall. Well this year was MOMENTOUS. For the first time, in the 17 years we've known each other, we got to shop in the same stores. You have no idea how important this was for Niki! She's always had to shop in the "big lady" stores, while I'd shop in the "regular size" stores. Well this year, I got to show her the joys of The Gap, Banana Republic and J. Crew - all the usual mall stores that she's never been able to shop in. It was really exciting for us both!

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Pop took Jude and I along with our friends Ray and Jen and their daughter Mia to a Long Island Ducks game. The Ducks are a Long Island minor league baseball team. Jude and his Grampa were so cute watching the game together.

 

At one point, Jude greatly impressed his Grampa by making a dive in an attempt to catch a foul ball. Unfortunately, it was nabbed by some dude trying to impress his date. But he made a valiant attempt.

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For Mommy's birthday, Niki had the excellent idea to buy her one of those old people's cell phones. Have you seen them? It's actually kind of brilliant. All the major phone carriers now make phones especially for seniors with a 911 button, and special buttons for their "In Case of Emergency" people.  She'll mostly just use it to call Pop and tell him he needs to pick her up at the Waldbaums, but it makes us feel better that she has it. So anyway, she got very excited when we gave it to her, and said what will surely become a classic Mommy line "Oh my Gawd! I feel so important!"

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I managed to escape by myself into NYC for a day and a night! Hooray! Hooray!

I took the train in and decided to spend the afternoon checking out the new High Line, which is essentially, an elevated park built on the preexisting, but long abandoned elevated train line which runs over Tenth Avenue from 30th down to Gansevoort St. in the Village. I'd read all about it, and thought it would be fun to explore. So I set out from Aunt Grace's apartment at Park and 34th, all excited about my day by myself. I headed down to 30th, then cut across the city to Tenth. I kept thinking that I'd try to get a bus or something, but it was such a nice day, and I just kept walking. I found the High Line and headed south. It's really a beautiful place, very artistic and Manhattany. Pretty soon, I had accidentally walked the entire way to the END of it, then all the way back. It was at this point that my poor feet started to burn and throb, and my ridiculous decision to walk all this way in a pair of sandals with absolutely NO support became painfully (literally) apparent. But did I stop and catch a cab? Oh no. I decided to keep walking on up to 34th, then jump on a bus back to Park, which I did. When I finally got back to Grace's, I went into the kitchen, grabbed a plastic bucket, filled it with ice water, and stuck my feet in it!

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While on the High Line, I stopped to get a treat. The place has several uber cool food vendors. I chose to get a watermelon and ginger shaved ice - excellent. And guess who was in front of me in line? Padma. That's right, Padma from Top Chef. With her little girl. She was extremely gorgeous, and wearing a sari. She enjoyed the watermelon and ginger shaved ice as well!

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I met three of my old theater friends from college for dinner. We met at 8:00, which after a week and a half with the old people seemed so very sophisticated and "Manhattan". In honor of this, I drank a couple of Manhattans. Here I am with my old roommate Lannyl...

 

Much food and drink was consumed, and there was much talk about old times. Just what I needed!

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On the way home on the plane, I sat next to an Orthodox Jewish woman, who was reading a seriously Jewish book by a rabbi, but spent most of her time watching the tv (Jet Blue has tvs at every seat) flipping back and forth between "Dog the Bounty Hunter" and an "American Chopper" marathon. Which was fascinatingly incongruous.

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That's all I have in me. I'm will, no doubt, think of all sorts of lively and hysterical stories after I've had a bit of sleep. But for now, just head over to Stacy's for my Random Tuesday Thoughts.

Profile

Look over on my right sidebar. Down, below all the BlogHer stuff...

See that sweet little picture of Jude and me smooching? I love that shot.

But, alas, it is old. And neither of us looks quite like that anymore. The picture desperately needs to be replaced. I've been fretting about it a lot lately. I need a new "profile" shot.

I know exactly how old the old picture is, because it was taken 4 years ago, when Jude and I were visiting my friend Tasha on Fire Island during our annual New York summer visit, and Tasha took the picture.

Tasha is a friend from L.A., who grew up on Long Island, not far from Jimmy, but is now living with her husband and little boy, Boris, in Berlin. But they always spend a month every year in her family's house on Fire Island, NY. And I cleverly schedule our trip to NY for the same time!

Tasha is gorgeous and fun and easy-going - the perfect antidote when I'm staying with the in-laws. Tasha is a jazz singer, and generally a fabulous and artsy person.

Here's a shot of Tasha and Boris from a couple of years ago...

 

Aren't you jealous? Don't you wish you had a fabulous friend named Tasha who is a jazz singer who lives in Berlin and has a son named Boris?

So last week, Jude and I hopped on the ferry and spent a day on Fire Island with Tasha.

 
 
 
 

 

Sorry, I went a little Hipstamatic crazy.

Anyway, as we were about to leave to catch the ferry home, I mentioned to Tasha how much I love that smoochy picture, and how sad I was that we needed to get an updated shot, and she grabbed her camera, and decided to shoot the replacement.

Unfortunately, Jude was...uncooperative. He HATES having his picture taken. Which baffles me, as I was that little girl who posed and smiled her best smile at the drop of a hat. Jude, however, hmmm... A pain in the butt.

We got this...

 

...notable only because Jude's swimmers bod looks so good. I, unfortunately, have the Dick Van Dyke chin I get from certain angles.

And then the child started to squirm...

 

and squirm...

 

In an attempt to recreate the smooch, we ended up with this hysterical series...

 
 
 
 

In the end, Tasha did manage to get this shot...

 

...which I like even more when I do this...

 

...or even better, this...

 

What do y'all think? Should I use it? Or should I just blow the whole thing off and use a headshot? Maybe this one?...

 

But then, I love having something less formal, and with Jude in the picture with me. Sigh...

Opinions?

Spin Cycle: Nurturing Away Nature

Jude is fearless. And every time I watch him propel himself down the freakiest waterslide in the waterpark, body surf on waves twice his height, scamper up a rock wall, speed downhill on his Razor scooter on one leg or lean his head over the side of the Empire State Building, I am torn between feelings of horror and feelings of intense pride and relief.

Because I have come to understand that one of my most important tasks as Jude's mother is to nurture away the intense fear, which is the nature of Jimmy's family. And since I have now been staying with my in-laws in the Land of Fear and Paranoia for over a week, the importance of this has become glaringly apparent.

You all know how much I adore my mother-in-law. I really, truly could not ask for a better mother-in-law. She's loving and giving, and never nags or questions me. She has been a loving mother to me since my Mama died. And I'm happy to take care of her in her dotage. But she's also, a self-described "nut job", and I'm afraid that Mommy can be...difficult.

My beloved mother-in-law Mommy is the most fearful person I've ever known in my life. She takes fear and nervousness to new levels, never before imagined. It's hard for me to explain this to anyone who hasn't experienced it in person. At first, people think that her fears are sort of sweet, she just loves her family SO much that the thought of anything happening to them scares her to death. But in reality, it's not sweet at all, it is at the least annoying, and at the worst crippling and damaging.

Jimmy and his brother Tony were raised in a household in which they weren't allowed to do much of anything. They weren't allowed to play organized sports, because they might get hurt. They weren't allowed to go on trips anywhere because they might get lost. They weren't allowed to swim because they might drown, ride bikes because they might fall, ride a train because it might crash. The worst possible scenario was ALWAYS imagined. And they were NEVER trusted to do anything. What Mommy thought was being protective, was actually being crippling.

But of course, boys will be boys. Jimmy's reaction was to turn into the jokester, the crazy one. He just did everything anyway, torturing her, usually blatantly and in her face. Tony went the other way. He shut down, and hid everything from her. Eventually, Jimmy simply ran away to the other side of the country.

Examples of Mommy's worrying are legendary. She regularly "hits the panic button", as she calls it. This is usually brought on by someone not returning her phone call in a timely manner, or being more than 10 minutes late. If she calls me in L.A. and leaves a message, and I don't return her call within an hour or two, she will start calling back, leaving nervous messages in a voice Jimmy and I have named "The Quiver". "Ggg-rrr-eeeee-tch-tch-tch-tch-eee-n-n-n? Calllllll me b -ack-ack-ack!" As time goes on, the phone messages pile up, and "The Quiver" grows more pronounced in each call. It is usually at this time that she has to pull out the medicinal blackberry brandy, which she sips out of a tiny, gold-embossed shot glass.

But occasionally, there will be an extreme instance, say Aunt Grace has been on a vacation, and is late getting back to Manhattan and hasn't called. At times like this, Mommy is prone to hysteria - ranting and screaming, possibly beating her own head, or putting her own hand in her mouth and biting as hard as she can. She will then point to the tooth prints on her hand and pronounce dramatically "See! See what I had to do?!"

It is truly, something out of an Italian movie. Fellini didn't just make this shit up.

One legendary story was about 6 years ago, when Jimmy booked a film which shot in India, and he told his mother that he would be in India for about 2 weeks. And you have to understand, that this was something that Jimmy was EXTREMELY excited about - a great job, a great opportunity to travel, I mean, he toured the Taj Mahal, for God's sake. Mommy's reaction? She tore the kitchen apart, flinging pots and pans on the floor and screaming.

The other day when we went to the beach, she sat on the edge of her chair the entire time Jude was in the water, every cell in her body twitching, the hair on her neck standing on end, simply because the child was in the ocean. In two feet of water. Right in front of the lifeguard. This is the child who is on the swim team. "Is he alright? Is he alright? HE'S GOING OUT TOO FAR! COME IN! JUUUUDE! Is he alright?" It's very exhausting. For everyone, including her.

I'm afraid that Mommy came by this insanity honestly. Mommy and Grace's mother was a notorious germ freak. A MUCH beloved and adored Grandma, but also, as Mommy describes herself, "A nut job altogether". Here's my favorite (though unconfirmed) story about Grandma. One Christmas, the whole family was gathering for an elaborate meal. The table was beautifully set with the good linens, the good china, the good silverware. An old uncle came into the house and while he was saying hello to everyone, placed his hat on the corner of the table for a minute. Grandma totally flipped, and they were forced to completely strip the table, wash everything, and reset it. Cr. A. Zy!

It is clear to those of us of the younger generation, that Mommy (and her mother) has some serious undiagnosed chemical imbalance issues. Niki and Tony have been trying to get her on Prozac for years, but people of her generation and upbringing would NEVER go to a therapist, EVER. I personally think she has OCD. She obsesses that way. But nothing has been treated.

Alas, Jimmy has inherited some of these fears and chemical problems. But he fights it. Hard. It's a HUGE battle for him to let go, and allow Jude to have a normal, healthy childhood. I CONSTANTLY remind him that hovering over the child, worrying about whether or not he has a sweater, worrying every time he coughs that he might be choking, worrying every time he has a fever that he is surely dying, is NOT HEALTHY. For anyone.

I have, over the years, learned to deal with Mommy. But I tend to forget, and stupidly, accidentally treat her like a normal person.

I was raised to believe that the way to deal with people, to show them respect, was to treat them as I would like to be treated by others. And the way I like to be treated is to be told everything, to be asked my opinion, to be shared with, to be in the loop about what my loved ones are doing.

But unfortunately, we simply can't tell Mommy anything. I try to never tell her what Jude and I are doing until AFTER it has happened. For instance, a trip to Cub Scout camp would send her into a tailspin, so I only call her from the car during out drive home. We all just keep everything from her.

Which to me, would be an absolutely HORRIFYING way to live life. I feel so sorry for her, that her fears have shaped her life, and her relationship with her sons this way. I want Jude to be able to tell me anything, and trust me with anything.

I also want him to be confident, relaxed and capable - qualities that both of Mommy's sons battle with.

So of course MY biggest worry is that Jude has inherited what my sister-in-law Niki calls...the nut gene. And if the nut gene does manifest itself, I intend to do everything I can to teach him coping mechanisms to keep it in check.

So far so good. Last night, we had a roaring thunderstorm. Los Angeles almost NEVER has thunder or lightning (much less rain), so for Jude it was extremely exciting. Mommy is, naturally, very frightened of storms. Every time it thunders, she literally jumps. No one is allowed to use the phone, take a shower, watch the television or go near a window, because...I'm not sure why.

What did Jude and I do? We subversively sat in an upstairs window and watched the storm. We watched the lightning and counted the seconds until the thunder hit. We then called Jimmy on the phone and I took a shower. Mommy was beside herself, but now Jude is in no way scared of thunderstorms.

Lets hope that the nurture beats the nature into submission.

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For more spins on Nature vs. Nurture, visit Sprite's Keeper.

 

RTT: The Mommy Edition

I have survived my first week with the in-laws!!! Hurray for me!!

Here are some Random Tuesday Thoughts about life with Mommy, my beloved mother-in-law...

 Here she is at the beach the other day...

 

Notice that she's wearing one of the slutty tank tops she prefers. I feel I must clarify that she is not actually a jogger, like her top says. Not bad for an 82 year old, right? No, I shouldn't prematurely age her, she doesn't turn 82 until Thursday. So...Happy Almost Birthday Mommy!

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Yesterday, Jude turned to Mommy and asked "Grandma, what year was it when you were born?" Mommy answered "I don't remember." I intervened "Jude, it's not polite to ask a lady her age." To which Jude answered, and I quote, "But Grandma, you are really looking great for your age. Look at that face! Those arms!" I swear to God, that's what the child said. Mommy was thrilled.

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This is the trashcan in Mommy's kitchen...

 
 

"But, Gretchen" you say "That looks like a bathroom trashcan, not a kitchen trashcan." Yes, that is because it IS a bathroom trashcan. It holds about 6 cups of garbage, maximum. As you can imagine, this is EXTREMELY inconvenient. The other night, I was cooking dinner for everyone, and during the hour it took me to cook dinner, someone had to take out the trash THREE times. Why is this so? I don't know. I've asked about 100 times, and she won't give me a straight answer.

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This is Mommy's favorite appliance. She calls it "The Turbo"...

 

Please forgive the terrible picture, I was taking it on the sly while everybody was eating dessert. The Turbo is a convection oven, and Mommy cooks everything in it. In fact, she doesn't even know how to turn on her actual oven, but uses it to store her skillets and plastic placemats. About a year ago, The Turbo conked out. Mommy looked EVERYWHERE, but they just don't make The Turbo any more. We even searched "the internets" for her. Nothing. Mommy was in an absolute tizzy. How was she going to make the crumb chicken?! How was she going to make the roasted chicken with the Catalina dressing?! Poor Mommy tried hard to adapt. She attempted cooking in the real oven, but alas, she just couldn't get the hang of it. Things just didn't "come out nice". Luckily, Mommy's best friend, Chris, died a few months ago (okay, it was in no way lucky that Chris died, but...well just go with me here), and when Chris's sons were cleaning out their moms house Mommy suddenly remembered that Chris had a Turbo! So they gave the old Turbo to Mommy, and all is right with the world yet again.

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One of the most puzzling examples of "Mommy Logic" involves the towels in Mommy and Pop's house. Mommy owns probably...35 to 40 bath towels. And only one bathroom. Really. But strangely, the towels are all TINY. Maybe 3 feet long and about a foot and a half wide. They are, in fact, too small to dry the body of an adult human. I always have to use two. You know how people usually wrap a towel around their body and can then walk around wearing a towel? Not here, because the towels are too small to wrap around. Jude can barely wrap one around his scrawny little waist. I asked her once where she found such tiny bath towels, and she said it was hard, but she managed to track them down. It has taken me some time to figure out what I think the reason is for these minute towels. You see, Mommy doesn't believe that a towel can be used more than once. Every time a towel is used, she rushes in and hustles it off to the laundry. Therefore, she must have many, many towels. Unfortunately, her closet space is minimal. So she takes the towels and folds them in a very peculiar and particular way in order to make them all fit on the shelves in the closet, and the only way she can fit all those towels is if they are very, very small. Makes perfect sense, right?

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Last night, I got Mommy talking about what she wistfully refers to as "the past...", and she told me about when she and Pop first started dating. First of all, you need to understand that Mommy and Pop are second cousins. Yes. I know. But they weren't close at all, and after her grandmother died, their families didn't see each other for years. Then, when they were both 16, they saw each other at a family wedding Apparently, he made quite the dashing figure. "I thought he was very good lookin'" And Mommy was very snazzy and lovely, and she said he walked right across the room and asked her to dance. Then at every family wedding for years, he did the same thing. She'd never see him in between events, but as soon as they saw each other at a wedding, he'd ask her to dance right away. This was during WWII, so you can imagine the clothes, and the music the band played - very romantic. Then, when she was about 19, he called her on the phone and asked her out. But something was going on, a relative was in town or something, and she couldn't go, so she told him no. He didn't call again for a year, but then they finally went out on a real date. Soon after that, Pop joined the Army, and went off to fight in the Korean War. And they sent romantic letters back and forth - she'd send him hotsy pictures of herself, and he'd write flowery poems and such.

I loved hearing all this, and today, Mommy is going to pull out a huge bag of old pictures she found in the basement, and we're going to sort through them all. I'm really looking forward to showing Jude pictures of Grandma and Grandpa and Grace when they were young. I sincerely hope he is old enough to appreciate them.

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Back in the early '80s, Mommy was at a bit of a loss. Pop had left for his hiatus (For those of you who don't know the tale, Pop left Mommy for 20 years, and then returned. I tell the story here. You should read it, it's really, really nuts.), the boys had grown up and moved out, and she was alone and lonely. Her life changed when a neighbor needed to find someone to take care of her two little girls while she went back to work. The girls were 2 years old, and 2 months. Mommy decided to give it a try, and started a new adventure in her life, continuing to take care of kids in her home for the next 15 years. Through this time, she took care of probably 8 kids altogether, usually one at a time, and she'd keep them from infancy until they started school. These kids all absolutely adored her. She was Mommy Mary to all of them. And since it didn't look likely that either Jimmy or Tony would provide her with a grandchild (this was, of course, before Jude the miracle), she loved and doted on each of them as if they were her own.

Okay, you remember yesterday's story about Mommy and Grace's conversation about Carol and Carol? Well, that very first little girl she took care of, the 2 year old, was...Carol! And if you go back and scroll through yesterdays comments, you'll see a comment from...the very same Carol! A testament to Mommy's nurturing.

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I will leave you with my favorite Mommy quote of the trip thus far..."You know, I'm a nut job altogether!"

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Okay, those are my Random Mommy Thoughts for today. Please visit Stacy Uncorked for more Random Tuesday Thoughts!