Here we are fresh from our trip to NC only to whisk ourselves off to yet another destination. This will be our third year in a row to Provincetown, MA where we stay with our dear friend Susie Q and her family at their lovely historic home on Main Street. There are no other towns to compare it to and it is pretty near to being a utopic society. In the morning we frequent the nearby coffee shop, hang out at the town beach sipping tea and coffee and prepare for the day as we wait for the other adults to wake up. Then the possibilities are endless. Do we go to the beautiful beaches, the nearby hotel pool, or check out the "Critter Cruise"? If only every day can be like this...
I mean, don't get me wrong. Tomorrow I look forward to a morning of stumbling out of the bed gesturing to Chris to help Emmett out of our bed because my back is killing me. Before I even pee I rummage through our kitchen desperate to eat something. After usually settling on cereal it dawns on me that Jack has to eat and that Emmett's diaper is so full, it's resembling a pillow strapped between his legs. So I argue with Jack about how he can't have crepes or blueberry pancakes from scratch every morning and I wrestle Emmett to the ground to have his diaper changed. At which point my cereal is soggy and I still haven't peed. Chris is preparing his gourmet coffee using the Chemex method and is scanning through his Google Reader. This promptly leads to me bitching about the dishes in the sink from the night before and banging things around so that I can make my tea. Jack starts to eat his frozen, now toasted, organic blueberry waffle and wants to know if we are going to do "something fun today". I choke down my vitamins and eye the computer, but feel too lazy to switch from Chris's account to my own. Chris gets in the shower and I try to address the "fun" plans for the day and unless the plan involves a museum, beach or a zoo I have to then address the issue of how to deal with disappontment without screaming or whining. Chris is now getting dressed for work and I finally pee and shower myself, sometimes simultaneously.
While it may be hard to believe that the glamorous morning above is readily shunned for the mornings on the Cape, I've already started packing.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Micromanaging and North Carolina
A couple of things…
Let me begin by quoting our son Jack who offered this insight while we were driving around in North Carolina, “It’s kind of confusing because Dada is bigger than Mama but Mama has a bigger brain.” For some reason, Kara thinks that this was a reference to my intelligence rather than a valid observation about the freakish size of her head. Granted, I drove around NC like Corky’s dumber cousin, but Kara does have a big head.
You may have read Kara’s previous post in which she uses some tortured logic (and my grandparents!) to suggest that reminding me to take my clothes off before I get in the shower is her way of saying, “I love you” and not her way of saying, “You’re a moron.” Any married person or anybody who has lived with someone they are intimate with can see through this bullshit right away. It’s the oldest line in the book. It’s right up there with, “I wasn’t yelling at you, I was yelling at myself.” It brings to mind the line, “I was born on a Tuesday, but it wasn’t last Tuesday.”
Anyway, my big takeaway from our trip to NC was I was duped by a local into royally pissing off this donkey named Lightning. I’ll tell you all about it at a later date.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
NYC to the NC to the NYC
Hey Y'all, at the request of Krissy, I am writing. I am tired though, so be kind, friends.
Recently we took a trip to North Carolina. We decided to use our stimulus check aka "hush money" to take a vacation that had nothing to do with visiting friends and/or family. And while we were at it, take a little look-see at the towns there to see if relocating could be a possibility for us. So while it's still fresh in my mind, I'll share the things that spring to mind about our adventures there.
People drink a lot of iced tea there, or rather "sweet tea" and boy is it good. The thing that amazes me though is that they seem completely unaffected by all of the caffeine that is running through their systems on a constant basis. Maybe it's because they are sweating it all out from the heat. In any case it is the most refreshing and civilized drink that goes with just about any food. I was happy about that.
Chris had lost all sense of direction in NC. We made so many U-turns and cut off so many people, even NYers would have been blown away. I mean right up to the bloody end of our trip we ran into trouble. I thought we were in the clear driving along Airport Blvd with the Avis sign just up ahead, when Chris pulls into their exit driveway with the spikes pointing in our direction daring us to continue. Even after I started stammering "Not here, not here!", Chris looked at me bewildered, "What, what?!". Yeah, that was a close call. Jack at one point even declared, "Dada, you really should have gotten that GPS!". He is sooo my son.
There are a lot of wasps, hornets, bees, what have you. And for those of you who know me, know that I don't like bugs. Let alone bugs that have the potential to be lethal. They hover around doorways just waiting for someone oblivious to come along. And everyone was oblivious to them! There I was dodging and running through doorways shouting at the kids to get in, while everyone else is just leaning back, having conversations, holding doors open for other people, maybe the occasional lazy hand gesture toward them- like "go on. fly away little bug." Where do these fucking bugs come from?! And they were huge with stingers so visible, there was a glint to them in the sunlight.
Everyone is friendly there and will help you even if it's inconvenient for them or if they hate you. On our first day there we went to the Whole Foods in Chapel Hill to grab some snacks, diapers, and lunch. After we ate I got up to bring the trays inside with the leftover food and when I opened the door this air blew out at me from inside and the napkins went flying everywhere. This man came out of nowhere and grabbed the door for me so that I could pick up the napkins at which point due to shock, I lost control of the trays. Food all over the floor along with the dishes and silverware. He calmly looked at me with a smile and said "You have just made a dog's dream come true!". And then he helped me gather everything and opened the door again for me. While the fascinating details described above may seem ordinary to the lay person, it is not ordinary in ASStoria.
Accents are a strange thing. When I was in college everybody thought I was from Vermont and were always shocked to find that I was from NYC. Vermont? I don't have any sort of accent as far as I can tell and when I meet someone with an accent of any kind, I kind of love it. Now, for some reason in NC the accent threw me. Whenever I spoke to somebody who had a real southern accent, my knee-jerk reaction was to smile as if they were playing a joke on me. I would look at them as if to say, "Are you kidding me?". Quickly I would remember where I was and would get it together. The other funny thing is how we all start to acquire the accent that is around us. Madonna in England, for example. Or Chris in NC. And much like Madonna in England, Chris's accent picked up some strange habits and sometimes I wasn't sure what he was doing. I don't think people from New England are supposed to sound like they are from the South. The tongue just won't allow it.
All in all we had a great time and as for relocating, well, when you get home and your block smells like a dead horse just shat all over your stoop, any other option seems plausible. But no worries my friends, we are here for now and I am going to love the hell out of it. In spite of the smell.
Recently we took a trip to North Carolina. We decided to use our stimulus check aka "hush money" to take a vacation that had nothing to do with visiting friends and/or family. And while we were at it, take a little look-see at the towns there to see if relocating could be a possibility for us. So while it's still fresh in my mind, I'll share the things that spring to mind about our adventures there.
People drink a lot of iced tea there, or rather "sweet tea" and boy is it good. The thing that amazes me though is that they seem completely unaffected by all of the caffeine that is running through their systems on a constant basis. Maybe it's because they are sweating it all out from the heat. In any case it is the most refreshing and civilized drink that goes with just about any food. I was happy about that.
Chris had lost all sense of direction in NC. We made so many U-turns and cut off so many people, even NYers would have been blown away. I mean right up to the bloody end of our trip we ran into trouble. I thought we were in the clear driving along Airport Blvd with the Avis sign just up ahead, when Chris pulls into their exit driveway with the spikes pointing in our direction daring us to continue. Even after I started stammering "Not here, not here!", Chris looked at me bewildered, "What, what?!". Yeah, that was a close call. Jack at one point even declared, "Dada, you really should have gotten that GPS!". He is sooo my son.
There are a lot of wasps, hornets, bees, what have you. And for those of you who know me, know that I don't like bugs. Let alone bugs that have the potential to be lethal. They hover around doorways just waiting for someone oblivious to come along. And everyone was oblivious to them! There I was dodging and running through doorways shouting at the kids to get in, while everyone else is just leaning back, having conversations, holding doors open for other people, maybe the occasional lazy hand gesture toward them- like "go on. fly away little bug." Where do these fucking bugs come from?! And they were huge with stingers so visible, there was a glint to them in the sunlight.
Everyone is friendly there and will help you even if it's inconvenient for them or if they hate you. On our first day there we went to the Whole Foods in Chapel Hill to grab some snacks, diapers, and lunch. After we ate I got up to bring the trays inside with the leftover food and when I opened the door this air blew out at me from inside and the napkins went flying everywhere. This man came out of nowhere and grabbed the door for me so that I could pick up the napkins at which point due to shock, I lost control of the trays. Food all over the floor along with the dishes and silverware. He calmly looked at me with a smile and said "You have just made a dog's dream come true!". And then he helped me gather everything and opened the door again for me. While the fascinating details described above may seem ordinary to the lay person, it is not ordinary in ASStoria.
Accents are a strange thing. When I was in college everybody thought I was from Vermont and were always shocked to find that I was from NYC. Vermont? I don't have any sort of accent as far as I can tell and when I meet someone with an accent of any kind, I kind of love it. Now, for some reason in NC the accent threw me. Whenever I spoke to somebody who had a real southern accent, my knee-jerk reaction was to smile as if they were playing a joke on me. I would look at them as if to say, "Are you kidding me?". Quickly I would remember where I was and would get it together. The other funny thing is how we all start to acquire the accent that is around us. Madonna in England, for example. Or Chris in NC. And much like Madonna in England, Chris's accent picked up some strange habits and sometimes I wasn't sure what he was doing. I don't think people from New England are supposed to sound like they are from the South. The tongue just won't allow it.
All in all we had a great time and as for relocating, well, when you get home and your block smells like a dead horse just shat all over your stoop, any other option seems plausible. But no worries my friends, we are here for now and I am going to love the hell out of it. In spite of the smell.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
The Secret to a Successful Marriage
Recently we took a trip to see Chris's grandparents in his hometown of Marblehead, MA. It was a quick trip- the only kind we can take these days with two boys who manage to make any indoor space feel like a closet filled with expensive china. My nerves can only take so much of it in someone else's home. Anyhoo, whenever we return from one of our family trips the inevitable conversation of who's family is crazier comes up. By the way- always, always my family wins hands down thanks to the Puerto Rican side which has nothing to do with being puerto rican, but everything to do with being mentally ill. So, after talking about the usual stuff, like New England repression and eating things that are not so kid friendly ("Jack, just try the onion pie!"), I found myself thinking about marriage. You see, recently a couple of friends have mentioned to me in passing that Chris and I have a good marriage or a healthy relationship and it stuns me. Not because it isn't true (I really have no idea, actually), but rather I am stunned that I am married at all. On my mother's side none of the women stayed with the men that "fathered" their children. For the most part this is a really good thing, but for the sake of demonstrating what a healthy marriage looks like it's just not there. Chris's father split when he was really young never to return. So where do we turn to for guidance or inspiration? This brings me back to his grandparents- Grummer and GG.
Grummer and GG should be an inspiration to everyone. They both found each other later in life, each having been married once. It is now about 30 years later and they are still madly in love. They giggle at each other's jokes, compliment each other several times a day, and every once in a while I'd catch Grummer's hand on GG's ass. Yep, it's true. But after much thinking, the true secret to their succes is- drumroll, please- Micromanaging. That's right, Chris! You heard me right, micro-frigging-managing.
It's amazing how they micromanage; it's like watching masters at work. "Jeannie, did you take your pills this morning? Well if you're going to do it now, maybe you should eat something to go along with it since it's not at a mealtime. And while you're at it take a swig of something wet to chase them down." Later something like this will come up- "Well, if the kids need to be on the road by 6pm, then Ed, you should get the dinner going by 5pm so that we can relax through dinner and you won't feel so hurried in preparation. And it's 4:30 now so maybe we should have some vino now and forego the accompaniments altogether." It's magic. But the key to this secret, I think, is to not recognize that it's micromanagement. They just simply see it as taking care of each other. Huh, fancy that, Chris.
I think Chris and I are too painfully aware of this aspect of our marriage. It's an unfortunate side effect of being in our generation. We are too painfully self-aware on almost every aspect of our lives. Before suggesting anything to Chris I always preface it now with "Okay, I am not micromanaging, but I just need you to know that..." There's Emmett standing there in his olive green shirt and his forest green shorts and me saying, "Okay, I am not micromanaging, but..." I just don't know how else to break it to Chris that we couldn't possibly let our beautiful son out into the world with those two greens on the same body. He takes it as personal criticism, I see it as damage control aka taking care of my family. He swears that I am the only one who does it, but I too have felt the irritation of his care for the family. "Did you pack his medicine? Do you have the cell phone?" almost every time I am headed out the door with the kids, as if he weren't here I would walk out the door without their shoes on too. But I welcome it now with open arms, because I know what he's really saying is, "I care for you and for the health of our children".
Grummer and GG should be an inspiration to everyone. They both found each other later in life, each having been married once. It is now about 30 years later and they are still madly in love. They giggle at each other's jokes, compliment each other several times a day, and every once in a while I'd catch Grummer's hand on GG's ass. Yep, it's true. But after much thinking, the true secret to their succes is- drumroll, please- Micromanaging. That's right, Chris! You heard me right, micro-frigging-managing.
It's amazing how they micromanage; it's like watching masters at work. "Jeannie, did you take your pills this morning? Well if you're going to do it now, maybe you should eat something to go along with it since it's not at a mealtime. And while you're at it take a swig of something wet to chase them down." Later something like this will come up- "Well, if the kids need to be on the road by 6pm, then Ed, you should get the dinner going by 5pm so that we can relax through dinner and you won't feel so hurried in preparation. And it's 4:30 now so maybe we should have some vino now and forego the accompaniments altogether." It's magic. But the key to this secret, I think, is to not recognize that it's micromanagement. They just simply see it as taking care of each other. Huh, fancy that, Chris.
I think Chris and I are too painfully aware of this aspect of our marriage. It's an unfortunate side effect of being in our generation. We are too painfully self-aware on almost every aspect of our lives. Before suggesting anything to Chris I always preface it now with "Okay, I am not micromanaging, but I just need you to know that..." There's Emmett standing there in his olive green shirt and his forest green shorts and me saying, "Okay, I am not micromanaging, but..." I just don't know how else to break it to Chris that we couldn't possibly let our beautiful son out into the world with those two greens on the same body. He takes it as personal criticism, I see it as damage control aka taking care of my family. He swears that I am the only one who does it, but I too have felt the irritation of his care for the family. "Did you pack his medicine? Do you have the cell phone?" almost every time I am headed out the door with the kids, as if he weren't here I would walk out the door without their shoes on too. But I welcome it now with open arms, because I know what he's really saying is, "I care for you and for the health of our children".
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