It's like a merry-go-round
Monday, July 13, 2009
We're here at the beach now, and the car ride is, I'd like to say, a distant memory. Truth be told, it's not far from my mind, as I mull over who would be willing to pick me up from the airport, and if I'd just carry-on Emily's booster seat. I can honestly say I'd never do this again, this drive down here. Or at the very least, not like we did it. It wasn't bad, it was just a lot. And in a rare, but becoming more common, role, I was happy, perky, non-grumpy cheerleader for the entire ride.
I'm the child of my parents, so naturally I should be whiny or annoyed, but I'm old enough not to do that anymore. In fact, I'm old enough to have the roles reversed, to be the one who is always in the front seat, looking at the map, deciding where we eat lunch, passing back the tissues and the drinks. I'm the mom. Not just to my child, but also, in certain ways, to my parents.
Just a few years ago, we were taking these vacations, the ones we go on with his parents and mine, and we were always, always the kids in the back of the car. Married, yes, and owned our own home, and had our grown-up jobs. But kids nonetheless. My dad still worked then, and so did his - in fact, all four of our parents worked, when now it's just Nick's mom who does. We note this occasionally, as if it's odd that she still works, a quirk of hers. But we very rarely, if ever, reflect on the fact that all of them did, and that was as normal then as retirement is now.
Still. We were married, home-owning, responsible adults, but children. Kids. And now suddenly, we take the lead. We drive our car, and they sit in the back. We plan routes, and we decide where to have dinner.
Tonight we walked around a local shopping and dining area that is popular with tourists. My mother in law and I went into a store that sells Fresh Produce, which for some reason I am slightly obsessed with, in the same way that I know the Vera Bradley lines in and out; can tell you the style of the bag and the pattern's name.
We spent a bit of time in there, she and I, mainly because I became a dress-up doll. Fueled by mutual desire, I stayed in the alcove with the curtain, and tried on dress after dress, while she brought me more and more selections. Finally, at the end, and after two appearances by our husbands, whose opinions were asked for and roundly ignored, we settled on a dress for me. It's simple, periwinkle, cotton. It's short, and sleeveless, and the sort of thing you wear on hot summer nights because it is so simple.
I laid it on the counter, and went to put away the rejected dresses; little slips of things, patterns and cotton and softness on hangers under florescent lights. When I got back to the counter, my mother in law had her purse firmly on it. She was going to buy my dress for me, because she liked it the best. She wanted to do this. So I kissed her on the check and I let her.
I used to think it made me more of a kid to have parents pay for things for me. Now I see that, in some cases, it makes me more of an adult.
I'm the child of my parents, so naturally I should be whiny or annoyed, but I'm old enough not to do that anymore. In fact, I'm old enough to have the roles reversed, to be the one who is always in the front seat, looking at the map, deciding where we eat lunch, passing back the tissues and the drinks. I'm the mom. Not just to my child, but also, in certain ways, to my parents.
Just a few years ago, we were taking these vacations, the ones we go on with his parents and mine, and we were always, always the kids in the back of the car. Married, yes, and owned our own home, and had our grown-up jobs. But kids nonetheless. My dad still worked then, and so did his - in fact, all four of our parents worked, when now it's just Nick's mom who does. We note this occasionally, as if it's odd that she still works, a quirk of hers. But we very rarely, if ever, reflect on the fact that all of them did, and that was as normal then as retirement is now.
Still. We were married, home-owning, responsible adults, but children. Kids. And now suddenly, we take the lead. We drive our car, and they sit in the back. We plan routes, and we decide where to have dinner.
Tonight we walked around a local shopping and dining area that is popular with tourists. My mother in law and I went into a store that sells Fresh Produce, which for some reason I am slightly obsessed with, in the same way that I know the Vera Bradley lines in and out; can tell you the style of the bag and the pattern's name.
We spent a bit of time in there, she and I, mainly because I became a dress-up doll. Fueled by mutual desire, I stayed in the alcove with the curtain, and tried on dress after dress, while she brought me more and more selections. Finally, at the end, and after two appearances by our husbands, whose opinions were asked for and roundly ignored, we settled on a dress for me. It's simple, periwinkle, cotton. It's short, and sleeveless, and the sort of thing you wear on hot summer nights because it is so simple.
I laid it on the counter, and went to put away the rejected dresses; little slips of things, patterns and cotton and softness on hangers under florescent lights. When I got back to the counter, my mother in law had her purse firmly on it. She was going to buy my dress for me, because she liked it the best. She wanted to do this. So I kissed her on the check and I let her.
I used to think it made me more of a kid to have parents pay for things for me. Now I see that, in some cases, it makes me more of an adult.
Labels: light enough to travel, we are family, you and me in the summertime
Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway
Friday, July 10, 2009
I'm on the road right now, with my mom and dad and Emily. It's a big, rambly truck, filled to the gills with clothes and food and bottles of wine in the way back. We've already listened to the country hits of the 1970's, the popular songs of 1999, and are onto my dad's iPod. Does anyone else find it odd that Little Feet had a hit with a song about gumbo?
My dad spent a lot of time, during the first CD, reminding me that this was the first Mexican-American country singer, or the first black country singer, or a blind country singer. When he asked what I was scribbling down, in the front seat, I explained that this stuff was too good to just forget.
Now we are in Virginia, in stop and go traffic. It's not fun, this traffic. Emily is getting bored and my parents keep fiddling with the GPS and telling me all about the Broadway shows they've seen based on the songs of Billy Joel, Johnny Cash, or Frankie Valli. Because, yes, they have seen all three shows, even the Cash one which didn't make it out of previews.
Wish me luck. I'll keep updating from the road, as long as my cell service doesn't fail me!
Summer...it turns me upside down
Monday, July 06, 2009
When I last left you, the post before I admitted to getting jazzed just contemplating the founding fathers, I was chatting about my television viewing and my summer plans and the upcoming shower.
Oh my God, remember when I was swept up in the birth of a nation stuff? I am so not cool sometimes. Unless you're a history professor that has given up on the Youth of Today.
So, anyhoo, the shower was wonderful. It was exactly what Jodi wanted and she seemed to really enjoy it. I have pictures, but I have not posted them. I'm a slacker. Sunday, the day after the shower, I crashed on the couch. It felt like days. Then Monday came, and the aforementioned Fun in the Sun camp started.
Now, in case you are wondering, it's called Fun in the Sun because it's outside. So, if there is serious rain, more than a quick shower, you have to hightail it back to get your kid. Still, it's cheap as dirt and 7 weeks long and EVERY DAY. Emily loves it. And, as a nice bonus, it's at the town pool club, so I can stay there and hang out if I have free time.
So that's been my last week. Throw a party, recover. Take kid to camp, recover kid at home. Make dinner, watch reality TV. Go to sleep. Clean house, throw another party (July 3rd, annual thing). Clean up, recover from party. Rinse. Repeat.
Summer officially started for me last Monday, on June 29th, and I was totally unprepared. I needed more sunscreen, more beach towels, more food in my house. It was as if I woke up, from weeks of rain, and realized that it was summer. I had a job to do! I had a life to live!
So that's where I've been. Living that summer life. We leave for a week's vacation, in Myrtle Beach, on Friday. Today felt nice and relaxed, but sitting here, typing, I can feel the panic rising, the interior list-maker in my head. She's doing masses of laundry and running errands and I'm telling her to breathe! Breathe, girlfriend.
(Did I mention the vacation is with my parents, and Nick's parents? In one condo. For a week. Yep. They sell wine there, right?)
Despite the late start to the summer, despite it taking me by surprise, despite the busy schedule and plans laid out in front of me from now until September, I'm enjoying this. It's different this year, it feels different. I'm not sure what it is, I haven't put my finger on it yet. But it's not like last year. It's not the same feeling to my days, my life. But it's good, this summer. I'm going to have fun seeing how this one goes.
Oh my God, remember when I was swept up in the birth of a nation stuff? I am so not cool sometimes. Unless you're a history professor that has given up on the Youth of Today.
So, anyhoo, the shower was wonderful. It was exactly what Jodi wanted and she seemed to really enjoy it. I have pictures, but I have not posted them. I'm a slacker. Sunday, the day after the shower, I crashed on the couch. It felt like days. Then Monday came, and the aforementioned Fun in the Sun camp started.
Now, in case you are wondering, it's called Fun in the Sun because it's outside. So, if there is serious rain, more than a quick shower, you have to hightail it back to get your kid. Still, it's cheap as dirt and 7 weeks long and EVERY DAY. Emily loves it. And, as a nice bonus, it's at the town pool club, so I can stay there and hang out if I have free time.
So that's been my last week. Throw a party, recover. Take kid to camp, recover kid at home. Make dinner, watch reality TV. Go to sleep. Clean house, throw another party (July 3rd, annual thing). Clean up, recover from party. Rinse. Repeat.
Summer officially started for me last Monday, on June 29th, and I was totally unprepared. I needed more sunscreen, more beach towels, more food in my house. It was as if I woke up, from weeks of rain, and realized that it was summer. I had a job to do! I had a life to live!
So that's where I've been. Living that summer life. We leave for a week's vacation, in Myrtle Beach, on Friday. Today felt nice and relaxed, but sitting here, typing, I can feel the panic rising, the interior list-maker in my head. She's doing masses of laundry and running errands and I'm telling her to breathe! Breathe, girlfriend.
(Did I mention the vacation is with my parents, and Nick's parents? In one condo. For a week. Yep. They sell wine there, right?)
Despite the late start to the summer, despite it taking me by surprise, despite the busy schedule and plans laid out in front of me from now until September, I'm enjoying this. It's different this year, it feels different. I'm not sure what it is, I haven't put my finger on it yet. But it's not like last year. It's not the same feeling to my days, my life. But it's good, this summer. I'm going to have fun seeing how this one goes.
Labels: family, the story of my life, you and me in the summertime
Oh beautiful for patriot dream that sees beyond the years
Saturday, July 04, 2009
We are frequent visitors to Colonial Williamsburg, and every time I go there, I am struck by the bravery and courage of the men who birthed my nation. Sometimes we watch the classic yet slightly cheesy Story of a Patriot, starring Jack Lord. Sometimes we attend a special program, like a conversation with Patrick Henry. Or maybe we simply wander around and let the daily events unfold around us. Whatever we do, it's history recreated, and it's hard not to get swept up into it.
But this isn't an advertisement for Colonial Williamsburg, although I'm not above shilling for them on my blog. No, it's an acknowledgement of what it meant to the drafters and signers of the Declaration of Independence, what it meant to the people left behind at home, the men who elected their representative to the Continental Congress. And of course, the people of our nation who had no say in how it was run, but had to live with the decisions made.
I don't think we can ever truly understand what it was like for these men of courage and foresight, nor do I think we can ever be thankful enough to live in a country of free elections and a governing document that allows for changes. We are incredibly blessed.
It's funny that we celebrate this historic event, the birth of our nation, by eating too much and drinking and setting off booming displays. It's exactly how our forefathers celebrated holidays. Maybe they didn't head to Lowe's to fix up the house, but they did love to eat and drink and light things on fire. And they loved their marching bands.
There are so many ways that we can access the best historical research to better understand the forces that formed our nation, the people who signed and ratified the Declaration of Independence. We can go to so many places and hear from interpreters, we can read books, we can sit on our couches and watch the History Channel. I do all these things, gladly, and I come to the same conclusions each time.
There were a lot of different voices yelling out their particular concerns. They were imperfect people. They had a hard job, lots of restrictions, and plenty of things working against them, like money and weather and space. Some of them were brave, some boisterous, some brilliant. Some were just a pain in the ass. But somehow, all this diversity learned to work together. And they set such a lovely example amid the turmoil, that I can never lose faith in us to do the same.
Happy Independence Day.
But this isn't an advertisement for Colonial Williamsburg, although I'm not above shilling for them on my blog. No, it's an acknowledgement of what it meant to the drafters and signers of the Declaration of Independence, what it meant to the people left behind at home, the men who elected their representative to the Continental Congress. And of course, the people of our nation who had no say in how it was run, but had to live with the decisions made.
I don't think we can ever truly understand what it was like for these men of courage and foresight, nor do I think we can ever be thankful enough to live in a country of free elections and a governing document that allows for changes. We are incredibly blessed.
It's funny that we celebrate this historic event, the birth of our nation, by eating too much and drinking and setting off booming displays. It's exactly how our forefathers celebrated holidays. Maybe they didn't head to Lowe's to fix up the house, but they did love to eat and drink and light things on fire. And they loved their marching bands.
There are so many ways that we can access the best historical research to better understand the forces that formed our nation, the people who signed and ratified the Declaration of Independence. We can go to so many places and hear from interpreters, we can read books, we can sit on our couches and watch the History Channel. I do all these things, gladly, and I come to the same conclusions each time.
There were a lot of different voices yelling out their particular concerns. They were imperfect people. They had a hard job, lots of restrictions, and plenty of things working against them, like money and weather and space. Some of them were brave, some boisterous, some brilliant. Some were just a pain in the ass. But somehow, all this diversity learned to work together. And they set such a lovely example amid the turmoil, that I can never lose faith in us to do the same.
Happy Independence Day.
Labels: holidays, the land of the free and the home of the brave
And I'll be sleeping with the televison on
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Some random thoughts about television, my life, and Billy Joel.
Sometimes I'll be up past my bedtime, and "Sex and the City" will come on, and I'll remember why I love that show so much. They get so many things right, even as their lives seem somewhat exaggerated or unrelatable. The older I get, the more I realize how smart those writers were. Watching it is almost like flipping through a picture album with old friends.
Jon and Kate are making me very sad. I really feel for them and their kids. Jami summed it up best. I'm not sure if I'll keep watching or not. It's almost not enough of a train wreck; it's just too real for me to witness.
On the other hand, I adore the Duggars. They seem like such a nice family. A family who believes practically the opposite of my beliefs, but lovely nonetheless. I love how the parents interact with their kids, and I love that despite their 18 kids, they always, always spend time together while doing family things. Every episode, you see Jim Bob and Michelle together, enjoying being together just like married couples should. Say what you want about them, they have their marriage as a number one priority. I think Kate and Jon should go hang out with them for a day or two.
I am the kind of person who scolds her girlfriends for not taking good care of their skin. But I have a secret. Sometimes I am too lazy to wash my face, and I just use one of those Dove or Ponds face wipes. Sure, they say they remove makeup and dirt, but we all know they should only be used when one is on a plane or drunk. But I used one tonight and I am neither!
The longer I know my friend Jodi, the better her advice to me gets. I'm not sure if this is a product of our years of friendship, or something that changed or grew in her or me or both. But it's true. Lately she hits everything right on target with me.
Does anyone else find it weird that Micheal Cavanaugh has a career out of singing Billy Joel songs?
The last two days have been rain-free. Today we are scheduled to get our new windows in, and they are predicting thunderstorms. Just my luck. We got canceled last week for the same reason. I really, really want those windows in.
Emily is all registered for summer camps. Next week she goes to Fun in the Sun, which is at our town pool club, and is a few hours, every day, in the afternoon. That lasts until August. She's also going to do one week of theater camp - if you know her, you know this is a perfect fit. That's one hour per day for one week, and cheap as air, through the park system. Then after our vacation, she will do six weeks of ballet classes. We got her uniform today. It's beyond adorable. Pink leotard, pink socks and ballet shoes, and a dotted swiss skirt. And new shoes. This studio has no recitals, just teaches the art of dance. They seem very low pressure, very nurturing, and they follow the more traditional, professional schools (like the kind attached to companies) in their uniforms and teaching styles. I'm glad we found them.
I'm working on some changes for my blog, so if you come here and find it down, don't panic. I hope to have it pretty and new by the end of the summer, so it may go offline now and again. But in the meantime, I'll be sure to delight you with all my randomness. Countdown to the shower on Saturday!
Sometimes I'll be up past my bedtime, and "Sex and the City" will come on, and I'll remember why I love that show so much. They get so many things right, even as their lives seem somewhat exaggerated or unrelatable. The older I get, the more I realize how smart those writers were. Watching it is almost like flipping through a picture album with old friends.
Jon and Kate are making me very sad. I really feel for them and their kids. Jami summed it up best. I'm not sure if I'll keep watching or not. It's almost not enough of a train wreck; it's just too real for me to witness.
On the other hand, I adore the Duggars. They seem like such a nice family. A family who believes practically the opposite of my beliefs, but lovely nonetheless. I love how the parents interact with their kids, and I love that despite their 18 kids, they always, always spend time together while doing family things. Every episode, you see Jim Bob and Michelle together, enjoying being together just like married couples should. Say what you want about them, they have their marriage as a number one priority. I think Kate and Jon should go hang out with them for a day or two.
I am the kind of person who scolds her girlfriends for not taking good care of their skin. But I have a secret. Sometimes I am too lazy to wash my face, and I just use one of those Dove or Ponds face wipes. Sure, they say they remove makeup and dirt, but we all know they should only be used when one is on a plane or drunk. But I used one tonight and I am neither!
The longer I know my friend Jodi, the better her advice to me gets. I'm not sure if this is a product of our years of friendship, or something that changed or grew in her or me or both. But it's true. Lately she hits everything right on target with me.
Does anyone else find it weird that Micheal Cavanaugh has a career out of singing Billy Joel songs?
The last two days have been rain-free. Today we are scheduled to get our new windows in, and they are predicting thunderstorms. Just my luck. We got canceled last week for the same reason. I really, really want those windows in.
Emily is all registered for summer camps. Next week she goes to Fun in the Sun, which is at our town pool club, and is a few hours, every day, in the afternoon. That lasts until August. She's also going to do one week of theater camp - if you know her, you know this is a perfect fit. That's one hour per day for one week, and cheap as air, through the park system. Then after our vacation, she will do six weeks of ballet classes. We got her uniform today. It's beyond adorable. Pink leotard, pink socks and ballet shoes, and a dotted swiss skirt. And new shoes. This studio has no recitals, just teaches the art of dance. They seem very low pressure, very nurturing, and they follow the more traditional, professional schools (like the kind attached to companies) in their uniforms and teaching styles. I'm glad we found them.
I'm working on some changes for my blog, so if you come here and find it down, don't panic. I hope to have it pretty and new by the end of the summer, so it may go offline now and again. But in the meantime, I'll be sure to delight you with all my randomness. Countdown to the shower on Saturday!
Labels: blogging, general, television, the story of my life
Can't you tell that your tie's too wide?
Sunday, June 21, 2009
So it's Father's Day here. I'm celebrating today with my dad, Nick, and Nick's dad. We're going to a baseball game; how American of us! While I am thankful for the fathers in my life, and looking forward to family togetherness, I'm feeling a bit jaded, as I was on Mother's Day.
Does anyone else feel like we could get rid of Father's Day and Mother's Day? Seriously, who needs a tie? Can't we just be mindful and celebrate the people in our life daily, or when the mood strikes us, instead of this mass produced holiday?
I'm not anti holiday. I'd like to hang onto the ones from my faith and Thanksgiving. And you keep the ones you like, too. But as a nation, I'd lose Mother's Day and Father's Day. There's got to be a better way to celebrate parenting. Have one day, Parenting Day. Give us all off, encourage community service, feature stories of parents who raise kids in difficult circumstances, etc, etc.
Thoughts? Do guys feel about Father's Day the way women feel about Mother's Day? Do you feel like getting a tie and barbecuing is a celebration of everything you do, or would you rather skip the whole thing? Is it enough that "Dada" is the first word kids say, that they are always, always happier to see you than the woman you married? (And well they should be, in my case. at least.)
I think we should raise our children to be thankful for and celebrate the people in our lives, but I'm not convinced we need an official holiday to tell us to do that. Especially since it was always married to commerce: the men's wear retailers were early supporters.
But it's not my day. What do you think, moms and dads and daughters and sons? And happy Father's Day to all the dads reading - I think all of you do a great job of loving your kids.
Does anyone else feel like we could get rid of Father's Day and Mother's Day? Seriously, who needs a tie? Can't we just be mindful and celebrate the people in our life daily, or when the mood strikes us, instead of this mass produced holiday?
I'm not anti holiday. I'd like to hang onto the ones from my faith and Thanksgiving. And you keep the ones you like, too. But as a nation, I'd lose Mother's Day and Father's Day. There's got to be a better way to celebrate parenting. Have one day, Parenting Day. Give us all off, encourage community service, feature stories of parents who raise kids in difficult circumstances, etc, etc.
Thoughts? Do guys feel about Father's Day the way women feel about Mother's Day? Do you feel like getting a tie and barbecuing is a celebration of everything you do, or would you rather skip the whole thing? Is it enough that "Dada" is the first word kids say, that they are always, always happier to see you than the woman you married? (And well they should be, in my case. at least.)
I think we should raise our children to be thankful for and celebrate the people in our lives, but I'm not convinced we need an official holiday to tell us to do that. Especially since it was always married to commerce: the men's wear retailers were early supporters.
But it's not my day. What do you think, moms and dads and daughters and sons? And happy Father's Day to all the dads reading - I think all of you do a great job of loving your kids.
Gee, baby, ain't I good to you?
Saturday, June 20, 2009
If you're having a baby, I'm planning your shower.
I'm not insisting on it, mind you, it's just how it works out. I'm a professional bridesmaid, so whenever those bridesmaidly duties pop up, here I come. Retirement dinner for your husband? I got it. Sherpa for your wedding day? Covered. Handler at dance-off? I come with a curling iron.
I've been involved with more baby showers than outright planned them myself. The first one ever was Jackie's first baby, and we were 19, so I think I pretty much did whatever our parents told me to do. Ditto on her wedding shower, which was two months later, at my mom's house. My mom totally did that one, I just wrote down the presents.
So then we come to Jackie's second baby shower - again, the moms prevailed, hers and his. So let's give me one full credit for all three of those parties, since I apprenticed at the hands of the masters, or mothers. Molly's baby shower was also a half pointer. I think you only get full points in this game if you are the point person for the shower, the manager, the head bridesmaid, a la maid of honor.
Jackie's two showers were co-ed. The first one didn't have alcohol, the second did. I'm not sure games were played at either. Molly's was traditional and lovely, at a restaurant. Stephanie's, my first co-chair experience, was at her home, women only, and had booze. She really loved this one shower she went to, and her friend and I tried to recreate that, Stephanie-ified. It was cozy and NYC-y and altogether right for her.
Then I got top girl billing with Eileen's shower. (These are not in order, per se.) I got to plan that one, and it was fun. Co-ed, alcohol, food, an adult party that happened to have a baby in utero. No games, presents opened but without baby bingo. I made a baby songs mix, and even wrote about it here. It was a good party.
And then we come to Jodi and Greg's. The thing is, Jodi has a bit of reputation as hating showers. She's the one you find on a Friday in June, bemoaning the next day. She tells you for a full week before the shower that she's going to miss beach time, not be able to garden, not get any sun, etc etc etc. Oh, and the lack of alcohol is also pretty hard on her, so we, her friends, encourage her to bring the cellphone flask I gave her one Christmas for just these occasions. And she has, with full knowledge of the mother-to-be, who generally thinks it's funny. She also loathes the hours of present opening, the games she never wins despite her competitive nature, and her defacto job of keeping the conversation going around her otherwise silent table.
So this baby shower has no games, no present opening, and no sit-down luncheon. It's not inside and dry, it's outside and the booze is flowing. It's not twenty women, it's those women and their husbands and kids. Here's what we've got:
Beer. We made beer for this shower; New Addition Ale, to be precise. There's a five gallon keg just waiting for next Saturday.
Unwrapped gifts. We asked everyone to skip the wrapping, save the environment and some money, and write their name on a card we supplied and attach it to their gift. They'll come in, greet Jodi or Greg, get thanked for their gift, and then the bridesmaid (me) and whisk it off to a display table.
Food. A nice man is going to come with hamburgers, hotdogs, chicken, and a grill, and cook for three hours. He's also bringing sausage and peppers, all the fixings, plus macaroni salad, potato salad, coleslaw, corn on the cob, baked beans, and watermelon.
Cake. Two of them. Ice cream and regular. We don't mess around with cake.
Drinks. If you don't like beer, and really, why don't you? we'll have wine, soda, water, and juice boxes.
Kids. You supply the kids, we'll supply the bubbles, lawn games, outdoor toys, and a bouncy castle.
Decorations. Jodi's sister-in-law works for Party City. God Bless her. I'm going with festive, pink, and fun. More is more.
Did I mention that the invitation had babies and beer on it? Here it is. Don't you just love it?
Well, it's been fun but I have to get back to my duties now. Liquor must be bought, chips must be acquired!
I'm not insisting on it, mind you, it's just how it works out. I'm a professional bridesmaid, so whenever those bridesmaidly duties pop up, here I come. Retirement dinner for your husband? I got it. Sherpa for your wedding day? Covered. Handler at dance-off? I come with a curling iron.
I've been involved with more baby showers than outright planned them myself. The first one ever was Jackie's first baby, and we were 19, so I think I pretty much did whatever our parents told me to do. Ditto on her wedding shower, which was two months later, at my mom's house. My mom totally did that one, I just wrote down the presents.
So then we come to Jackie's second baby shower - again, the moms prevailed, hers and his. So let's give me one full credit for all three of those parties, since I apprenticed at the hands of the masters, or mothers. Molly's baby shower was also a half pointer. I think you only get full points in this game if you are the point person for the shower, the manager, the head bridesmaid, a la maid of honor.
Jackie's two showers were co-ed. The first one didn't have alcohol, the second did. I'm not sure games were played at either. Molly's was traditional and lovely, at a restaurant. Stephanie's, my first co-chair experience, was at her home, women only, and had booze. She really loved this one shower she went to, and her friend and I tried to recreate that, Stephanie-ified. It was cozy and NYC-y and altogether right for her.
Then I got top girl billing with Eileen's shower. (These are not in order, per se.) I got to plan that one, and it was fun. Co-ed, alcohol, food, an adult party that happened to have a baby in utero. No games, presents opened but without baby bingo. I made a baby songs mix, and even wrote about it here. It was a good party.
And then we come to Jodi and Greg's. The thing is, Jodi has a bit of reputation as hating showers. She's the one you find on a Friday in June, bemoaning the next day. She tells you for a full week before the shower that she's going to miss beach time, not be able to garden, not get any sun, etc etc etc. Oh, and the lack of alcohol is also pretty hard on her, so we, her friends, encourage her to bring the cellphone flask I gave her one Christmas for just these occasions. And she has, with full knowledge of the mother-to-be, who generally thinks it's funny. She also loathes the hours of present opening, the games she never wins despite her competitive nature, and her defacto job of keeping the conversation going around her otherwise silent table.
So this baby shower has no games, no present opening, and no sit-down luncheon. It's not inside and dry, it's outside and the booze is flowing. It's not twenty women, it's those women and their husbands and kids. Here's what we've got:
Beer. We made beer for this shower; New Addition Ale, to be precise. There's a five gallon keg just waiting for next Saturday.
Unwrapped gifts. We asked everyone to skip the wrapping, save the environment and some money, and write their name on a card we supplied and attach it to their gift. They'll come in, greet Jodi or Greg, get thanked for their gift, and then the bridesmaid (me) and whisk it off to a display table.
Food. A nice man is going to come with hamburgers, hotdogs, chicken, and a grill, and cook for three hours. He's also bringing sausage and peppers, all the fixings, plus macaroni salad, potato salad, coleslaw, corn on the cob, baked beans, and watermelon.
Cake. Two of them. Ice cream and regular. We don't mess around with cake.
Drinks. If you don't like beer, and really, why don't you? we'll have wine, soda, water, and juice boxes.
Kids. You supply the kids, we'll supply the bubbles, lawn games, outdoor toys, and a bouncy castle.
Decorations. Jodi's sister-in-law works for Party City. God Bless her. I'm going with festive, pink, and fun. More is more.
Did I mention that the invitation had babies and beer on it? Here it is. Don't you just love it?
Well, it's been fun but I have to get back to my duties now. Liquor must be bought, chips must be acquired!
Labels: friends, get this party started, these are the good times
I always have a book by my side, and frequently walk and read at the same time. I am addicted to TIVO and watch too much TV and I'm not ashamed of it. I enjoy going to movies, talking about books and tv and movies, going see bands play, shopping with my friends, being alone with my husband, watching my daughter play, going out to dinner, and getting a nice pedicure. I appreciate good food and get excited by unexpected eating opportunities. I sing songs in the car. I must dance if there's music. I get easily drunk on wine. I try not to be critical, but it's difficult. I respect faith, but do not understand intolerance. I love passionate people. I'll always stay for one more drink and take the fork in the road. In my ideal world, radio stations play good music and people still read books.
