These are all from Jack:
"My family is the worst!"
"I love my family!"
"Happy Christmas everybody! Did you hear me?! I SAID HAPPY CHRISTMAS!"
"You gotta come see this thing--it's in the toilet."
"I'm re-decorating my play room. With stickers."
"I did not draw on that window with crayon...I think maybe a spider did it."
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Credibility
(This is an unpublished post I found from back on May 4th. It made me laugh, so prepare to feel dumb if it doesn't have that affect on you.)
My cousin, who is only 4 months older than I am, spent the weekend down here with us. It was wonderful. She and I grew up next-door to each other, and went to school on and off with each other, so I can safely say that she is one of those lucky people who know me best in this world (they are limited for a reason).
She and Dan were invariably drawn to each other as co-survivors of knowing-me-well (good thing we kept my sister away). They sat and talked for HOURS about ridiculous things as I rolled my eyes until they were sore. Dan was ecstatic to have someone who had not heard all of his stories, and even more excited to find that my cousin, like Dan, is what I call a fellow "fretter." So their conversations turned towards how best to worry over unforeseeable life-events, forcing me, the non-worrier, to leave the room lest my eyeballs fall out entirely. (This was probably their intention all along.)
As they discussed their worst fears (about how to mentally and physically prepare for nuclear fallout and waking up one day with a bank balance of $0), I tackled some of our never-ending laundry. Needless to say, they had more fun than I did. I could hear their excited squeals of fear-mongering as I folded clothes upstairs, wondering about my worst fear: being discovered living in Wyoming with a very sexy cowboy and sent back home to my real family.
My cousin, who is only 4 months older than I am, spent the weekend down here with us. It was wonderful. She and I grew up next-door to each other, and went to school on and off with each other, so I can safely say that she is one of those lucky people who know me best in this world (they are limited for a reason).
She and Dan were invariably drawn to each other as co-survivors of knowing-me-well (good thing we kept my sister away). They sat and talked for HOURS about ridiculous things as I rolled my eyes until they were sore. Dan was ecstatic to have someone who had not heard all of his stories, and even more excited to find that my cousin, like Dan, is what I call a fellow "fretter." So their conversations turned towards how best to worry over unforeseeable life-events, forcing me, the non-worrier, to leave the room lest my eyeballs fall out entirely. (This was probably their intention all along.)
As they discussed their worst fears (about how to mentally and physically prepare for nuclear fallout and waking up one day with a bank balance of $0), I tackled some of our never-ending laundry. Needless to say, they had more fun than I did. I could hear their excited squeals of fear-mongering as I folded clothes upstairs, wondering about my worst fear: being discovered living in Wyoming with a very sexy cowboy and sent back home to my real family.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Family (a four person word)
Jack is in love with his sister. I can remember feeling that exact sentiment...when they are little and can't talk, or steal (and ruin) your stuff, or rat you out to Mom and Dad. When they let you hold them and smile at you as opposed to accusing you of hitting them when you're in the next room, or making you watch the My Little Pony movie 269 times, OR getting out of their bed in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve only to vomit the lovely combination of fudge and olives all over your bed (with you in it). No, all of those things are in Jack's future! For right now he is content to occasionally hold his sister, to talk to her constantly, and to squeeze her chubby cheeks. Soon enough he will be complaining about her, and I will empathize, the way that my father did with me, about the pains of having a younger sibling, and attempt to comfort him with the same notion my dad tried: that imitation is the highest form of flattery. And Jack will undoubtedly say to me what I said to my father, which is... "DON'T GIVE ME THAT BOLOGNA, and WHEN CAN WE GET RID OF HER?"
But when he gets older he will be so glad to have someone who understands exactly what it was like to have parents like us, good and bad. Someone who he can commiserate with about how we tortured them, and who will agree that we no longer behave like "Mom and Dad" but like two batshit-crazy old people who dress ridiculously and like to embarrass them in front of people that they're trying to impress. They will watch each other's kids, pay our nursing home bills, and have us over on the holidays to tell funny, exaggerated stories of how ridiculous it was to grow up together under this roof. And we will yell, "WHAT?" and make them repeat themselves, give them unsolicited parenting advice, and refuse to take our Beano. I can't wait.
These are all of the things that I think about when I am lying in bed listening to Dan snore, Jack snore, and Sydney do her semi-conscious mating-shed bit. I remind myself that building a family is like building a house, brick by brick, day by day, into a place that you can live and feel loved forever. And also have someone painstakingly record your childhood on the internet. Forever.
But when he gets older he will be so glad to have someone who understands exactly what it was like to have parents like us, good and bad. Someone who he can commiserate with about how we tortured them, and who will agree that we no longer behave like "Mom and Dad" but like two batshit-crazy old people who dress ridiculously and like to embarrass them in front of people that they're trying to impress. They will watch each other's kids, pay our nursing home bills, and have us over on the holidays to tell funny, exaggerated stories of how ridiculous it was to grow up together under this roof. And we will yell, "WHAT?" and make them repeat themselves, give them unsolicited parenting advice, and refuse to take our Beano. I can't wait.
These are all of the things that I think about when I am lying in bed listening to Dan snore, Jack snore, and Sydney do her semi-conscious mating-shed bit. I remind myself that building a family is like building a house, brick by brick, day by day, into a place that you can live and feel loved forever. And also have someone painstakingly record your childhood on the internet. Forever.
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