Back to square one, looking for an apartment.
I can't figure it out. The landlord refused to renew out one year lease because we complained about mice and lead paint on the stairs and items they'd promised, doors to make the 3rd bedroom. This was despite paying $4000 a month on time.
Then, if we go to court, you get black listed as a "problem renter" for 10 years. It's all a nightmare, one I keep on thinking, how did we get into this? What part did I play? Jordan never complained before, but then she was a single person who could survive by picking up a meal, taking her laundry out, etc.
Now she has a family, one that requires a lot of wash, a lot of feeding, a lot of energy, and a lot of safety. That is Gigi and Tess, now 2 years old.
She is no longer single, and she has a mother with Parkinson's. Sometimes I am in fear, my body doesn't move, and when the lease wasn't renewed I got into fear.
A locksmith came by to change our locks. We got to talking and he said "do you know of another job I could get?" It was his own business but he said he was highly stressed. I didn't know what he could do, but I did know there is spiritual help for our problems, and that to be stressed and feel in fear is pointless. We are special and have a right to be.
Just like we have a right to pay our rent and expect some cooperation from the "landlord". As far as I am concerned, the only difference between ownership and renting is the owner puts a down payment down to get their "long lease"-maybe 15-20 years to pay it back, which is seldom done.
But in England, where there was "Lords" you never owned the land. There may be a house on it, but every 50-100-1000 years the lease has to be renewed at "present day prices". The "Lord" can lord over you there power. That's why we had the American Revolution!
Thursday, October 30, 2014
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Los Gatos, CA. and Cobble Hill, Brooklyn Ny
I'm now in Los Gatos, Ca. one hour from San Francisco, the most expensive city in the country. I came for my two grandsons graduation, one from middle school, and one from grade school. Quite a difference from PS 29 which prides itself on it's diversity, creativity, and intellectualism.This is dot com territory where the women drop the children off at school in their Jaguars and BMW SUV's, then head off to yoga, tennis, running, real estate, etc. It is the land of status-your children, your ring, your house, your dog, your decorator, kitchen, etc.
Los Gatos is more like Rye, New York, where Jordan's mother had lived. Go to one of the restaurants there and the "Dogs" will be compared, the men happy to tell you the history of picking their particular dog.
Brooklyn and PS 29 is a world away. So many worlds, and so many of them I lived in. We watched "Masters of Sex" on TV and all of these conservative old memories of St. Louis came up.
You can't go home again AMerica, but where is home Dorothy says.
a
Los Gatos is more like Rye, New York, where Jordan's mother had lived. Go to one of the restaurants there and the "Dogs" will be compared, the men happy to tell you the history of picking their particular dog.
Brooklyn and PS 29 is a world away. So many worlds, and so many of them I lived in. We watched "Masters of Sex" on TV and all of these conservative old memories of St. Louis came up.
You can't go home again AMerica, but where is home Dorothy says.
a
Graduation in Los Gatos, CA., in the heart of Silicon Valley
My last blog was on June 1st. On the 3rd I flew to San Jose to see my two grandsons graduate from the 5th and 8th grades respectively in Los Gatos, CA. Los Gatos is one of the most desirable areas in Silicon valley, with a small town atmosphere that deceives all the competition that's really underneath everything. In Los Gatos you can't be too smart, too internet, or too wealthy. In the heart of Silicon Valley, everything is done to the max.
So, to the audience when the "class president" thanked his parents, his teachers, and "everyone who helped make this experience at Blossom Hill Elementary School so incredible, one he will never forget," it seemed normal. I thought I was at a corporate pep rally and expected him to come around with a handshake any minute. Never in my 60 something years had I ever a speech like that from a 5th grader. My grandson, Jeremy, whose mom is a bit of a rebel, and my son was too before he died, was cool with his black short shirt, his striped pants, and his hair slicked up in a curl; was antsy, distracted, and ready to rumble. Who cares about speeches and corporate rallies, Jeremy wanted to move!
When my grand daughter, Sienna, was in the 4th grade she did the school play, the Seusical musical. The "corporate mom" who was running this show did it like a Broadway opening. There was a full band back up and professional singers, and Helga, my daughter in law, had to have Sienna's dress professionally made, special shoes, etc. It cost something like 120 dollars 16 years ago for her costume! Yep, in Los Gatos high 96% of the kids go on to college and their parents wear their accomplishments like war banners.
But back to our household. Helga was doing fifty things, arranging the house, getting ready for a party, making food, and my other son, Patrick, the youngest of the three, was supposed to get Bradley, 14, ready for the night time graduation in his black pants and white shirt. Patrick was lending Bradley his pants, and Helga was yelling for them to get ready because they had to leave in 10 minutes! Bradley is super tall and skinny. He'd been playing on the computer, Helga has no internet, so the boys have figured out to go in the bushes in the back yard and log on to a neighbors. She stopped the internet to keep the boys from being on it all the time.
"Hurry up, we're going to be late" she yelled, and as we were heading to the car, Bradley hopped out of the house with Patrick's black pants hanging off of him and a crumpled white shirt. His hair was all over the place and for every bit Jeremy looked "cool," Bradley was geeky, trying to smooth out his shirt, buckle his belt, and put his shoes on.
"You could have done a better job Patrick," Helga admonished as we headed to the cars. We would not all fit in one car, and we had to keep up the American way!
Bradley's graduation was at the same place as Sienna six years ago. Edward, my eldest, had not showed up for her graduation. He said he was searching for a parrot that had flown away from his mountain top house, but in reality he was contemplating suicide. A month later he did it.
Going to the same church where my son's funeral was brought up a lot of memories before I went to Los Gatos. But as usually happens, by the time I went to Los Gatos and the graduation I had processed a lot of feelings.
This was an in-door more sophisticated gathering than the 5th grade graduation. A number of the "in" girls were in short, tight, stretch dresses and heels. A lot of the girls looked more like seniors in high school than 8th grade graduates. Speeches were made by a lot more people, teachers, the class president, outstanding student in the sciences, creative writing, etc. The usual graduation speeches. I noticed when one of the students, Chad Reese's name was callled out, a ton of people clapped. I looked through the pamphlet and Chad was on no honor roll, etc. But he did play sports, and that I figured was the applause.
When Bradley's name was called out and he walked up to receive his diploma, he looked brainy, distracted, and bored! I agreed. A few minutes later, we were all outside and we saw Gretta, one of Helga's old friends from Los Gatos, her husband and three children. Bradley had been friends with their 14 year old daughter, Madge, since they were two. A tomboy who played drums, Madge wore a simple summer dress and flats. Helga curled her nose at how some of the girls were dressed. "It's ridiculous" she said.
Madge had two older siblings, John, 15 and George, 17, were playing water polo and their shoulders and chest had developed and filled out. You could see how playing a sport like that had helped them look like athletic young men.
Gretta said they were coming over for the party Helga was having and we waved goodbye. Helga and Sienna had baked a ton of cakes and made a beautiful setting of food. Helga is a natural at making beautiful parties, decorating the house in creative ways, and finding a place for everything. A number of old friends and neighbors came, but Gretta and her family didn't make it, Helga was about 20 minutes out of town on a dark winding road at night time. They probably went to another party. But we all had a great time and went to bed that night seeing bright stars in the sky. As a child I used to lay outside and see the stars in the sky and realize that other people had the same stars in other parts of the world. All in all, a great visit.
So, to the audience when the "class president" thanked his parents, his teachers, and "everyone who helped make this experience at Blossom Hill Elementary School so incredible, one he will never forget," it seemed normal. I thought I was at a corporate pep rally and expected him to come around with a handshake any minute. Never in my 60 something years had I ever a speech like that from a 5th grader. My grandson, Jeremy, whose mom is a bit of a rebel, and my son was too before he died, was cool with his black short shirt, his striped pants, and his hair slicked up in a curl; was antsy, distracted, and ready to rumble. Who cares about speeches and corporate rallies, Jeremy wanted to move!
When my grand daughter, Sienna, was in the 4th grade she did the school play, the Seusical musical. The "corporate mom" who was running this show did it like a Broadway opening. There was a full band back up and professional singers, and Helga, my daughter in law, had to have Sienna's dress professionally made, special shoes, etc. It cost something like 120 dollars 16 years ago for her costume! Yep, in Los Gatos high 96% of the kids go on to college and their parents wear their accomplishments like war banners.
But back to our household. Helga was doing fifty things, arranging the house, getting ready for a party, making food, and my other son, Patrick, the youngest of the three, was supposed to get Bradley, 14, ready for the night time graduation in his black pants and white shirt. Patrick was lending Bradley his pants, and Helga was yelling for them to get ready because they had to leave in 10 minutes! Bradley is super tall and skinny. He'd been playing on the computer, Helga has no internet, so the boys have figured out to go in the bushes in the back yard and log on to a neighbors. She stopped the internet to keep the boys from being on it all the time.
"Hurry up, we're going to be late" she yelled, and as we were heading to the car, Bradley hopped out of the house with Patrick's black pants hanging off of him and a crumpled white shirt. His hair was all over the place and for every bit Jeremy looked "cool," Bradley was geeky, trying to smooth out his shirt, buckle his belt, and put his shoes on.
"You could have done a better job Patrick," Helga admonished as we headed to the cars. We would not all fit in one car, and we had to keep up the American way!
Bradley's graduation was at the same place as Sienna six years ago. Edward, my eldest, had not showed up for her graduation. He said he was searching for a parrot that had flown away from his mountain top house, but in reality he was contemplating suicide. A month later he did it.
Going to the same church where my son's funeral was brought up a lot of memories before I went to Los Gatos. But as usually happens, by the time I went to Los Gatos and the graduation I had processed a lot of feelings.
This was an in-door more sophisticated gathering than the 5th grade graduation. A number of the "in" girls were in short, tight, stretch dresses and heels. A lot of the girls looked more like seniors in high school than 8th grade graduates. Speeches were made by a lot more people, teachers, the class president, outstanding student in the sciences, creative writing, etc. The usual graduation speeches. I noticed when one of the students, Chad Reese's name was callled out, a ton of people clapped. I looked through the pamphlet and Chad was on no honor roll, etc. But he did play sports, and that I figured was the applause.
When Bradley's name was called out and he walked up to receive his diploma, he looked brainy, distracted, and bored! I agreed. A few minutes later, we were all outside and we saw Gretta, one of Helga's old friends from Los Gatos, her husband and three children. Bradley had been friends with their 14 year old daughter, Madge, since they were two. A tomboy who played drums, Madge wore a simple summer dress and flats. Helga curled her nose at how some of the girls were dressed. "It's ridiculous" she said.
Madge had two older siblings, John, 15 and George, 17, were playing water polo and their shoulders and chest had developed and filled out. You could see how playing a sport like that had helped them look like athletic young men.
Gretta said they were coming over for the party Helga was having and we waved goodbye. Helga and Sienna had baked a ton of cakes and made a beautiful setting of food. Helga is a natural at making beautiful parties, decorating the house in creative ways, and finding a place for everything. A number of old friends and neighbors came, but Gretta and her family didn't make it, Helga was about 20 minutes out of town on a dark winding road at night time. They probably went to another party. But we all had a great time and went to bed that night seeing bright stars in the sky. As a child I used to lay outside and see the stars in the sky and realize that other people had the same stars in other parts of the world. All in all, a great visit.
Sunday, July 27, 2014
I'm Going Back to LA and the Bay Area for Three Weeks!
So many feelings and memories are coming up. I am going back to the bay area, Los Gatos, for my grandson's graduation from grade school and the second grandson is graduating from middle school. Everyone is getting bigger. My youngest turned 40, oh my god. And my oldest, not counting my son who died, has twins 19 months old at 45 as a single mom. The other day we took two sets of twins to the Brooklyn Museum for Children. We weren't sure we were going to make it, Gigi and Tess were getting tired and it wasn't even 9:30. My friend Carol had been director of the museum for 12 years and had raised 8 million to run it. She also has Parkinson's and we take classes at Mark Morris Dance Studio together. She didn't make it to the museum, but when Amy pulled up in her station wagon and we got 4 car seats into the back, it was wild. At least the weather was nice, not pushing around a stroller in the snow.
"Oh Wow" Gigi said when she went inside the museum. It was quite amazing with all these nooks, crannies, sandboxes, water falls, the twins were so happy. It's fun to watch life through your grandchildren's eyes. They are quite magical, but getting four toddlers in a mini van is not easy! Amy and Jordan are "uber" mothers!
"Oh Wow" Gigi said when she went inside the museum. It was quite amazing with all these nooks, crannies, sandboxes, water falls, the twins were so happy. It's fun to watch life through your grandchildren's eyes. They are quite magical, but getting four toddlers in a mini van is not easy! Amy and Jordan are "uber" mothers!
Saturday, July 26, 2014
The Crossing Guards
We were at the park at 7:30 this morning. They have crossing guards at every block
surrounding the park, which is near a school that is open in the
summer.. And they are all different. First near Rite Aide is this tall
(almost 6 feet), young black woman who is always smiling, almost
laughing, as she greets you and lets you cross the street. She wears
her black hair up in a swooped cone on top of her head. She is very regal and innocent and she seems like a kid in a candy shop.
At another crossing a middle aged white woman, with a very plain short bob, greets you checking to see how everyone is doing. She says in a little bit she'll be going on her break (it's now 9:20), and then she'll come back at noon, and then when the kids get out at 3.
The third crossing guard is a young black man whose hair is braided and he has a back pack on. He seems a little overwhelmed with the process and takes it all very seriously. He didn't smile or say a word, just came over to help us cross the street.
At the top of the park is a young woman, thin, not smiling, just helping you cross the street and being done with it.
It's summer and a few minutes after we arrived the fountains were on for the children to run through. Jordan has made it a habit for several months to go out with the twins before going to work. Of course this is after being up with Tess from 5:30 on, feeding the girls, dressing the girls, cleaning up the kitchen,etc. By the time she goes to work she's already done a fulldays work.
Two mothers and one father arrived at the park with their nanny. The nannies were all black and overweight. They stood there while the parents watched their toddlers for a few minutes before going to work. They looked embarrassed and bored.
I watched this one very thin mother in a cute summer dress bring her 2 year old into the kids play area. The nanny stood there as the mother ran around with the little boy. She was about 20 pounds over weight in cut off jeans and a tee shirt. I wondered what she was thinking as she watched the mother play with her son.
Yesterday I went with Marie to a swim party in the afternoon. There was 12 toddlers and 9 nannies, all from "the islands" Marie said. Six of the women were overweight and everyone sat around and watched the children get in the wading pool and play in the wet table. There was no water or refreshments for the adults, just a wet table, a wading pool, and a sprinkler for the toddlers. I was the only white adult at this gathering, and the twins grandmother. Normally the nannies would feel uncomfortable with me around, but I don't seem to upset them too much any more. Marie has a whole group of nannies she has "play dates" with.
It's a whole world within a world, these few blocks surrounding the park, and in the morning you get the whole mass of humanity going to work, taking their kids to school, older people wandering the neighborhood. In LA everyone would be in their car and in traffic.
At another crossing a middle aged white woman, with a very plain short bob, greets you checking to see how everyone is doing. She says in a little bit she'll be going on her break (it's now 9:20), and then she'll come back at noon, and then when the kids get out at 3.
The third crossing guard is a young black man whose hair is braided and he has a back pack on. He seems a little overwhelmed with the process and takes it all very seriously. He didn't smile or say a word, just came over to help us cross the street.
At the top of the park is a young woman, thin, not smiling, just helping you cross the street and being done with it.
It's summer and a few minutes after we arrived the fountains were on for the children to run through. Jordan has made it a habit for several months to go out with the twins before going to work. Of course this is after being up with Tess from 5:30 on, feeding the girls, dressing the girls, cleaning up the kitchen,etc. By the time she goes to work she's already done a fulldays work.
Two mothers and one father arrived at the park with their nanny. The nannies were all black and overweight. They stood there while the parents watched their toddlers for a few minutes before going to work. They looked embarrassed and bored.
I watched this one very thin mother in a cute summer dress bring her 2 year old into the kids play area. The nanny stood there as the mother ran around with the little boy. She was about 20 pounds over weight in cut off jeans and a tee shirt. I wondered what she was thinking as she watched the mother play with her son.
Yesterday I went with Marie to a swim party in the afternoon. There was 12 toddlers and 9 nannies, all from "the islands" Marie said. Six of the women were overweight and everyone sat around and watched the children get in the wading pool and play in the wet table. There was no water or refreshments for the adults, just a wet table, a wading pool, and a sprinkler for the toddlers. I was the only white adult at this gathering, and the twins grandmother. Normally the nannies would feel uncomfortable with me around, but I don't seem to upset them too much any more. Marie has a whole group of nannies she has "play dates" with.
It's a whole world within a world, these few blocks surrounding the park, and in the morning you get the whole mass of humanity going to work, taking their kids to school, older people wandering the neighborhood. In LA everyone would be in their car and in traffic.
Sunday, June 1, 2014
The Sandbox at Cobble Hill Park, Cobble Hill Brooklyn
It was 8:30 in the morning. We were up and out with the Tess and Gigi in the stroller. On our way outside we saw our new neighbor next door, a woman who seemed to be in her early forties with two girls, 3 and 5. Monica was going into her three story brownstone they'd just purchased for 2.5 million or more. That was the asking price in the winter. It didn't sell then, but in the spring. We said our hellos as she was taking her mother and the girls inside to check out the house.
Monica is in investment, and it was new buyer's excitement. The house is an old Brownstone, three floors, the bottom floor I always have called a "basement" because the front windows are usually at ground level. It's in the opposite side of the house, in the garden area that you have the full height of the room at the yard level. The front of these brownstones is often four or five steps down from the street. This brownstone they will use the "basement" as the kitchen, and dining or play room. The main floor was two drawing rooms originally. And then the top floor is bedrooms. It's the main floor that today many families don't know what to do with because if you eat in the "basement", what do you do on the first floor? But Brownstones are the main single building in the better areas of Brooklyn. So everybody tries to figure out how to make the most of the space.
We waved goodbye and made our way towards the sandbox in Cobble Hill park. It is a very small park, about a half a block long. It was 8:30 in the morning and we were the first in the sandbox. Jordan took out their buckets and two shovels and they sat down in the sand. A few minutes later three young women in their thirties showed up with a girl 15 months and a boy 14 months. They brought their own bucket and play tools. "Sandbox" etiquette is something I mentioned. Like Tess might be sitting there playing with her shovel or some other beach toy that's getting passed around and another "baby" or "young child" will come over and try to take the shovel out of their hand. Do you let them take it, or do you say "it's Gigi's?" What about other left over toys in the sandbox?
We were talking about this when one of the mothers said, "there should be a blog on this!" Well, here it is-the sandbox in Cobble Hill park, Cobble Hill, Brooklyn, NY.
Monica is in investment, and it was new buyer's excitement. The house is an old Brownstone, three floors, the bottom floor I always have called a "basement" because the front windows are usually at ground level. It's in the opposite side of the house, in the garden area that you have the full height of the room at the yard level. The front of these brownstones is often four or five steps down from the street. This brownstone they will use the "basement" as the kitchen, and dining or play room. The main floor was two drawing rooms originally. And then the top floor is bedrooms. It's the main floor that today many families don't know what to do with because if you eat in the "basement", what do you do on the first floor? But Brownstones are the main single building in the better areas of Brooklyn. So everybody tries to figure out how to make the most of the space.
We waved goodbye and made our way towards the sandbox in Cobble Hill park. It is a very small park, about a half a block long. It was 8:30 in the morning and we were the first in the sandbox. Jordan took out their buckets and two shovels and they sat down in the sand. A few minutes later three young women in their thirties showed up with a girl 15 months and a boy 14 months. They brought their own bucket and play tools. "Sandbox" etiquette is something I mentioned. Like Tess might be sitting there playing with her shovel or some other beach toy that's getting passed around and another "baby" or "young child" will come over and try to take the shovel out of their hand. Do you let them take it, or do you say "it's Gigi's?" What about other left over toys in the sandbox?
We were talking about this when one of the mothers said, "there should be a blog on this!" Well, here it is-the sandbox in Cobble Hill park, Cobble Hill, Brooklyn, NY.
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
The Girls Are Wild!-the Water at Carroll Gardens Park!
Gigi and Tess are 19 months and the are busy, busy, busy! You can't have anything out, nothing, nada.
We went to the park yesterday and Tess wanted to stand at the water fountain for 45 minutes. She threw a fit when Jordan took her away from it. And they were spraying water from these fountains that the chidden run through. Gigi got in there, shoes, clothes and got soaking wet. SHe was shivering. These girls sure like water. Tess screams when we take her out of the tub.
I'm going to LA in a week, and San Fran. One of my other grandchildren is graduating from middle school. Jordan says it will cost her a bunch of money while I'm gone. I told her that must mean I'm valuable!
Living with one another hasn't been easy. The girls we agree on but we're two women in one household. She will point out things I've done, or said and one has to realize that a child's viewpoint on you isn't the full picture. But its hard when they bring up stuff you can't just get away from and they have their opinion on it. But that is life and that is children. The girls are simpler in that respect-at least for now!
We went to the park yesterday and Tess wanted to stand at the water fountain for 45 minutes. She threw a fit when Jordan took her away from it. And they were spraying water from these fountains that the chidden run through. Gigi got in there, shoes, clothes and got soaking wet. SHe was shivering. These girls sure like water. Tess screams when we take her out of the tub.
I'm going to LA in a week, and San Fran. One of my other grandchildren is graduating from middle school. Jordan says it will cost her a bunch of money while I'm gone. I told her that must mean I'm valuable!
Living with one another hasn't been easy. The girls we agree on but we're two women in one household. She will point out things I've done, or said and one has to realize that a child's viewpoint on you isn't the full picture. But its hard when they bring up stuff you can't just get away from and they have their opinion on it. But that is life and that is children. The girls are simpler in that respect-at least for now!
Monday, May 12, 2014
Children, School, Twitter, Nudes in Chyberspace
We went to Sidney's yesterday for Mother's day. The twins were wild. They are 18 months and all over the place, climbing, walking, talking, eating, grabbing. Jordan has been very busy with work and the twins. It is all she does. Susan and Tom were also there as was Sylvia, Sidneys friend who recently sold her house in Cobble Hill and bought another one further out by the new Whole Foods. The talk went to schools, Montesori, having grandparents in their 80's, and teenagers. Sylvia said that these two girls sent nude photos of themselves to a boy in their class on Twitter. He was photo shopped into the photo and it went all around the school. This is just 8th graders! It was quite a big deal the the young man wound up getting expelled.
Sidney has finished the remodel on her house and it putting it up for rent-15,000 a month. She got the stairs straightened but the bannister is not up to code, it's too short. What happened is they fixed the bannister, but had to make the spindles shorter and when you walk up the stairs you notice that your arm doesn't quite hit the right height. Her agent, a mother from school, said that they'd have to disclose that situation. It's not easy renting and showing a house.
Nothing is easy, children are fragile, and we all are just trying to survive.
Sidney has finished the remodel on her house and it putting it up for rent-15,000 a month. She got the stairs straightened but the bannister is not up to code, it's too short. What happened is they fixed the bannister, but had to make the spindles shorter and when you walk up the stairs you notice that your arm doesn't quite hit the right height. Her agent, a mother from school, said that they'd have to disclose that situation. It's not easy renting and showing a house.
Nothing is easy, children are fragile, and we all are just trying to survive.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
The Middle Classing of the Royals
I have a young friend, Sam, an actor, from the UK. He speaks with that great English accent, and has their easy sense of humor. I was talking about the royals and he said "Nobody pays much attention to them in the UK".
Well, that's not true here. They are in the news every day-William, Kate, and George as they make their "royal" tour of Australia.
For patient Kate, who waited 10 years to catch William, it has payed off "in spades".
"Cinderella" got her prince, and William, what did he get?
He got a nice, modest, middle class girl who is willing to lower her dresses if the queen wants her to, he got someone who is good at, and who enjoys performing her "royal duties", and he got an extended family that does not have the dysfunctional display of Diana or Fergie.
No, the Middleton's will not mess up the holidays, will gamely go along with the hunting party, will babysit their grandson, who seem to be leading the "Queen" rather than following her orders.
On the surface they appear very compromising. But remember, Kate was not afraid to beat her husband at sailing; Kate and Williams wedding was as much an advertisement for Pippa-(remember she was the only grown bridesmaid wearing a sexy white dress with 8 little flower girls surrounding her), as it was a celebration for Kate and William.
If Kate and William had a daughter, she would become Queen, forget the old rules, in with the new. Baby George would only stay one night at the "palace," then he would go back to the "Middleton's" newly acquired "bigger" house for several weeks. Forget the "nanny", Kate and her mother were going to be the "nanny".
What has been the result of all of this? The queen is happy, the "firm" is going splendidly, and the young couple with "Baby George" are charming the world. Kate lowers her dresses, but still shows up in her tight jeans, her favorite blazer, and her wedgies. She has her style, her voice, and she's using it.
The Middeltons are the "perfect" commoners to dress up the royals!!!!!!!!!
Well, that's not true here. They are in the news every day-William, Kate, and George as they make their "royal" tour of Australia.
For patient Kate, who waited 10 years to catch William, it has payed off "in spades".
"Cinderella" got her prince, and William, what did he get?
He got a nice, modest, middle class girl who is willing to lower her dresses if the queen wants her to, he got someone who is good at, and who enjoys performing her "royal duties", and he got an extended family that does not have the dysfunctional display of Diana or Fergie.
No, the Middleton's will not mess up the holidays, will gamely go along with the hunting party, will babysit their grandson, who seem to be leading the "Queen" rather than following her orders.
On the surface they appear very compromising. But remember, Kate was not afraid to beat her husband at sailing; Kate and Williams wedding was as much an advertisement for Pippa-(remember she was the only grown bridesmaid wearing a sexy white dress with 8 little flower girls surrounding her), as it was a celebration for Kate and William.
If Kate and William had a daughter, she would become Queen, forget the old rules, in with the new. Baby George would only stay one night at the "palace," then he would go back to the "Middleton's" newly acquired "bigger" house for several weeks. Forget the "nanny", Kate and her mother were going to be the "nanny".
What has been the result of all of this? The queen is happy, the "firm" is going splendidly, and the young couple with "Baby George" are charming the world. Kate lowers her dresses, but still shows up in her tight jeans, her favorite blazer, and her wedgies. She has her style, her voice, and she's using it.
The Middeltons are the "perfect" commoners to dress up the royals!!!!!!!!!
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Being perfect and the Olympics!
Every four years we have the Olympics. One Olympian, an American cross country skier lost a medal by .05 one hundredth of a second. Four years and its over in .05 of one second.
The quest for perfection. Bode Miller flying down the hill at 90 miles an hour. Just driving 90 miles an hour is scary but your body being the car! What if you crash?
Last night Shawn White blew his 3rd gold medal away in the finals. He had always looked so young, so carefree with his long hair, easy smile, the mittens, lose clothing the skateboarders use. It was a new sport and Shawn White embodied it. It seemed so easy for him, it just came-the flips, turns, tricks.
He was all over the Olympics-Shawn White returning for his 3rd gold medal. Why shouldn't he have it? And it looked like it was his for the taking going into the finals, he was leading the pack with scores around 92.
But the cracks are there. He already had some problems and dropped one of his events. His hair is shorter. He isn't the kid any more. He seems to want it with an intensity that is no longer casual.
The wanting-oh not to want, and not to know. 1st run of the finals and Shawn White is not only human, he blows it! Instead of the 90's, he's at 35. There's no room for greatness and nonchalance, the wanting compromises us. Now beneath the helmet and the stars and stripes scarf, Shawn White wants the way Putin wants these games to establish Russia as a great country.
It's not the case of talent erupting from a country, but the want of fear and control. This is Putins baby, but not a baby he lets have a natural, open, loving environment. No, this baby must be perfect and do it right lest the baby embarrass Putin. You see it in the fake way Putin congratulates the Russian ice team. They are in fear of this man, but it looks like awe.
So Shawn White wants to do a great run but you know the pressure is too much even before he's gone. You can feel the tension beneath the helmet and scarf covering his face. In order to pull off a great run, you can't be in fear and control. It will contract your body, box in your mind. He is not a God anymore. He comes in with a 90. He is 2 1/2 points beneath the leader. He is in 4th place. And a few days earlier he'd dropped out of another competition wanting to "concentrate" on this one.
He tries to brush it off, it wasn't his day, but the innocence is gone. He is not perfect. And Putins Olympics, for their 70 billion dollar price tag, feel stiff, nervous, controlled. This is a people who live in a controlled state.
The quest for perfection. Bode Miller flying down the hill at 90 miles an hour. Just driving 90 miles an hour is scary but your body being the car! What if you crash?
Last night Shawn White blew his 3rd gold medal away in the finals. He had always looked so young, so carefree with his long hair, easy smile, the mittens, lose clothing the skateboarders use. It was a new sport and Shawn White embodied it. It seemed so easy for him, it just came-the flips, turns, tricks.
He was all over the Olympics-Shawn White returning for his 3rd gold medal. Why shouldn't he have it? And it looked like it was his for the taking going into the finals, he was leading the pack with scores around 92.
But the cracks are there. He already had some problems and dropped one of his events. His hair is shorter. He isn't the kid any more. He seems to want it with an intensity that is no longer casual.
The wanting-oh not to want, and not to know. 1st run of the finals and Shawn White is not only human, he blows it! Instead of the 90's, he's at 35. There's no room for greatness and nonchalance, the wanting compromises us. Now beneath the helmet and the stars and stripes scarf, Shawn White wants the way Putin wants these games to establish Russia as a great country.
It's not the case of talent erupting from a country, but the want of fear and control. This is Putins baby, but not a baby he lets have a natural, open, loving environment. No, this baby must be perfect and do it right lest the baby embarrass Putin. You see it in the fake way Putin congratulates the Russian ice team. They are in fear of this man, but it looks like awe.
So Shawn White wants to do a great run but you know the pressure is too much even before he's gone. You can feel the tension beneath the helmet and scarf covering his face. In order to pull off a great run, you can't be in fear and control. It will contract your body, box in your mind. He is not a God anymore. He comes in with a 90. He is 2 1/2 points beneath the leader. He is in 4th place. And a few days earlier he'd dropped out of another competition wanting to "concentrate" on this one.
He tries to brush it off, it wasn't his day, but the innocence is gone. He is not perfect. And Putins Olympics, for their 70 billion dollar price tag, feel stiff, nervous, controlled. This is a people who live in a controlled state.
Pre School for 20 month old twins in Cobble Hill $100,000 a year before taxes!
It has been more than a month since I've blogged. I've been in a funk. I can't decide what to do, where to go. I am the immigrant in New York, and as I tell my daughter, not a New Yorker.
The bloom is off the rose, the girls are bigger, and I must face my life. This is not my house, I am not really a nanny, and they are 17 months in a few days. It is not easy for one generation to live with another one and it's still cold here. It was around 60 yesterday afternoon, and today it's in the forties. I find it hard to believe for the end of March that there is to be snow on Tuesday. It's 80 in California.
The girls are now competitive. Tess is clinging to Jordan and she has a fit to get her way. Gigi is much more a light to the wind. Her little face lights up and she is constantly in motion. Tess used to be the twin on top who didn't move and down below Gigi was constantly in motion.
Jordan met Jamie at the park today who has 20 month old twins, Emma and Rose. There was not the flood of parents from yesterday where you could barely walk through Carroll Gardens Park as it was 60 degrees. Today its colder, but still the parents and their little ones venture out to discover the world. A few weeks ago when Jamie was over she talked about sending Emma and Rose to the Montesori pre-school to the tune of $60,000 for the two of them for a year.
"I'd have to get rid of my nannie and call up the school and beg for the girls to get off the waiting list. But I'm thinking, whoa…is this what I want? $100,000 a year before taxes? And I think, hold on now Jamie…"
Jordan said: "I'll hire college students to come in and teach them before I'll pay those kinds of salaries. It's ridiculous."
The girls were all busy going in different directions. Jamie's girls pretty much wander on their own. Tess was clinging to Jordan and Gigi was running around with a ball.
The bloom is off the rose, the girls are bigger, and I must face my life. This is not my house, I am not really a nanny, and they are 17 months in a few days. It is not easy for one generation to live with another one and it's still cold here. It was around 60 yesterday afternoon, and today it's in the forties. I find it hard to believe for the end of March that there is to be snow on Tuesday. It's 80 in California.
The girls are now competitive. Tess is clinging to Jordan and she has a fit to get her way. Gigi is much more a light to the wind. Her little face lights up and she is constantly in motion. Tess used to be the twin on top who didn't move and down below Gigi was constantly in motion.
Jordan met Jamie at the park today who has 20 month old twins, Emma and Rose. There was not the flood of parents from yesterday where you could barely walk through Carroll Gardens Park as it was 60 degrees. Today its colder, but still the parents and their little ones venture out to discover the world. A few weeks ago when Jamie was over she talked about sending Emma and Rose to the Montesori pre-school to the tune of $60,000 for the two of them for a year.
"I'd have to get rid of my nannie and call up the school and beg for the girls to get off the waiting list. But I'm thinking, whoa…is this what I want? $100,000 a year before taxes? And I think, hold on now Jamie…"
Jordan said: "I'll hire college students to come in and teach them before I'll pay those kinds of salaries. It's ridiculous."
The girls were all busy going in different directions. Jamie's girls pretty much wander on their own. Tess was clinging to Jordan and Gigi was running around with a ball.
Friday, February 14, 2014
Valentines Day
I was crying a few hours earlier. Valentines Day has become a mixed bag for me. My eldest son, Richard, died of a suicide on Valentines day 6 years ago. He had four young children. So my feelings are all over the place today. On the one hand Jordan's girls are darling and very busy and chatty. I just see them and I get happy. Jordan gave me some great pants, my favorite brand. It's warmer and the snow is melting, the sun shining.
With this weather and the 3rd floor walk up, I dream of Los Angeles. I dream of being at the beach with the girls in Laguna. Jordan says she's never going to LA, that it isn't a good place to raise a young girl.
I am like the European who comes to America but then wants to be back in the mother country. So little Italy, Ireland, Spain, etc., is recreated in NY. I am in Brooklyn, but I think of the West Coast and quote it all the time. By being in a new place you can see the old place much clearer-the good and the bad.
The girls made cards for Jordan, (they marked it with a marker Munroe stuck in her mouth). And we made flour-salt balls to make molds of their hand. It was quite a mess- Munroe squeezed her hand together twice in the flour-salt mixture, stuck some of the paste in her mouth and hated it. I got Matisse's pretty easily, she let me push her hand into the mixture. But then she screamed like a stuffed pig when I took it away.
With this weather and the 3rd floor walk up, I dream of Los Angeles. I dream of being at the beach with the girls in Laguna. Jordan says she's never going to LA, that it isn't a good place to raise a young girl.
I am like the European who comes to America but then wants to be back in the mother country. So little Italy, Ireland, Spain, etc., is recreated in NY. I am in Brooklyn, but I think of the West Coast and quote it all the time. By being in a new place you can see the old place much clearer-the good and the bad.
The girls made cards for Jordan, (they marked it with a marker Munroe stuck in her mouth). And we made flour-salt balls to make molds of their hand. It was quite a mess- Munroe squeezed her hand together twice in the flour-salt mixture, stuck some of the paste in her mouth and hated it. I got Matisse's pretty easily, she let me push her hand into the mixture. But then she screamed like a stuffed pig when I took it away.
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Putin and Shawn White and the "wanting"
Every four years we have the Olympics. One Olympian, Kikkan Randall, an American cross country skier, lost going into the finals by .05 one hundredth of a second. Four years and its over in .05 one hundredth of a second.
The quest for perfection. Bode Miller flying down the hill at 90 miles an hour. Just driving 90 miles an hour is scary but your body being the car! What if you crash?
Last night Shawn White blew his 3rd gold medal away in the finals. He had always looked so young, so carefree with his long hair, easy smile, the mittens, and lose clothing. It was a new sport and Shawn White embodied it. It seemed so easy for him, it just came-the flips, turns, tricks.
He was all over the Olympics-Shawn White returning for his 3rd gold medal. Why shouldn't he have it? And it looked like it was his for the taking going into the finals, he was leading the pack with scores around 92.
But the cracks were there. He already had some problems and dropped one of his events. His hair is shorter. He isn't the kid any more. He seems to want it with an intensity that is no longer casual.
The wanting-oh not to want, and not to know. 1st run of the finals and Shawn White is not only human, he blows it! Instead of the 90's, he's at 35. There's no room for greatness and nonchalance, the wanting compromises us. Now beneath the helmet and the stars and stripes scarf, Shawn White wants the way Putin wants these games to establish Russia as a great country.
It's not the case of talent erupting from a country, but the want of fear and control. This is Putins baby, but not a baby he lets have a natural, open, loving environment. No, this baby must be perfect and do it right lest the baby embarrass Putin. You see it in the fake way Putin congratulates the Russian ice team. They are in fear of this man, but it looks like awe.
So Shawn White wants to do a great run but you know the pressure is too much even before he's gone. You can feel the tension beneath the helmet and scarf covering his face. In order to pull off a great run, you can't be in fear and control. It will contract your body, box in your mind. He is not a God anymore. He comes in with a 90. He is 2 1/2 points beneath the leader. He is in 4th place. And a few days earlier he'd dropped out of another competition wanting to "concentrate" on this one.
He tries to brush it off, it wasn't his day, but the innocence is gone. He is not perfect. And Putins Olympics, for their 70 billion dollar price tag, feel stiff, nervous, controlled. This is a people who live in a controlled state. You can feel it through the TV.
The quest for perfection. Bode Miller flying down the hill at 90 miles an hour. Just driving 90 miles an hour is scary but your body being the car! What if you crash?
Last night Shawn White blew his 3rd gold medal away in the finals. He had always looked so young, so carefree with his long hair, easy smile, the mittens, and lose clothing. It was a new sport and Shawn White embodied it. It seemed so easy for him, it just came-the flips, turns, tricks.
He was all over the Olympics-Shawn White returning for his 3rd gold medal. Why shouldn't he have it? And it looked like it was his for the taking going into the finals, he was leading the pack with scores around 92.
But the cracks were there. He already had some problems and dropped one of his events. His hair is shorter. He isn't the kid any more. He seems to want it with an intensity that is no longer casual.
The wanting-oh not to want, and not to know. 1st run of the finals and Shawn White is not only human, he blows it! Instead of the 90's, he's at 35. There's no room for greatness and nonchalance, the wanting compromises us. Now beneath the helmet and the stars and stripes scarf, Shawn White wants the way Putin wants these games to establish Russia as a great country.
It's not the case of talent erupting from a country, but the want of fear and control. This is Putins baby, but not a baby he lets have a natural, open, loving environment. No, this baby must be perfect and do it right lest the baby embarrass Putin. You see it in the fake way Putin congratulates the Russian ice team. They are in fear of this man, but it looks like awe.
So Shawn White wants to do a great run but you know the pressure is too much even before he's gone. You can feel the tension beneath the helmet and scarf covering his face. In order to pull off a great run, you can't be in fear and control. It will contract your body, box in your mind. He is not a God anymore. He comes in with a 90. He is 2 1/2 points beneath the leader. He is in 4th place. And a few days earlier he'd dropped out of another competition wanting to "concentrate" on this one.
He tries to brush it off, it wasn't his day, but the innocence is gone. He is not perfect. And Putins Olympics, for their 70 billion dollar price tag, feel stiff, nervous, controlled. This is a people who live in a controlled state. You can feel it through the TV.
Saturday, January 25, 2014
I Hate TEXTING!
I am sick of all the texting and emailing. Yes, it's good if you are in a meeting or a class, or you need to send a quick message. But as a regular means of communication-forget it.
Nobody wants to talk on the phone anymore. Everyone is into control and texting is a form of control. There is no voice intonation, no emotions, no responding to what the other person says.
I remember when my eldest son, who was into the high tech world of silicon valley, converted his voice to text. You would call to leave a message and it would say:"VOX is converting your voice to text!" I would get so mad and leave him all my opinions on the phone. Of course when it was converted to text, all of my emotion was erased and I was white washed. This avoidance of talking on the phone leaves so many relationships half empty. All these texts back and forth-why?
It seems like people are reluctant to communicate, to be vulnerable and uncomfortable with feelings. My brother said a recent study was done on college students and their ability to communicate is down 40%. He said theres kids sitting right across from one another texting instead of talking. I just can't stand it.
And I got a new phone because my old one died and now I can hardly text because its a touch point whereas before I had a keyboard and I could really type on it. Now it repeats letters several times, skips, puts in the wrong letter. Once again, I HATE IT!
Nobody wants to talk on the phone anymore. Everyone is into control and texting is a form of control. There is no voice intonation, no emotions, no responding to what the other person says.
I remember when my eldest son, who was into the high tech world of silicon valley, converted his voice to text. You would call to leave a message and it would say:"VOX is converting your voice to text!" I would get so mad and leave him all my opinions on the phone. Of course when it was converted to text, all of my emotion was erased and I was white washed. This avoidance of talking on the phone leaves so many relationships half empty. All these texts back and forth-why?
It seems like people are reluctant to communicate, to be vulnerable and uncomfortable with feelings. My brother said a recent study was done on college students and their ability to communicate is down 40%. He said theres kids sitting right across from one another texting instead of talking. I just can't stand it.
And I got a new phone because my old one died and now I can hardly text because its a touch point whereas before I had a keyboard and I could really type on it. Now it repeats letters several times, skips, puts in the wrong letter. Once again, I HATE IT!
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
I have been going on
and on about the East Coast vs. the West Coast. What's going on, really?
If I am honest I have to say there is
a big life style change on many levels.
February is
coming up. It is the 6th anniversary of my eldest son's suicide.
Yes suicide.
That is not an
easy problem to swallow. I went to a grief group on it for 3 years and it
really helped. But I haven't been to any group for 2 years and you do
need to do the work.
I still find it
fascinating to read about Kate Middelton and the "princess" saga.
Disney's princess line makes more money than anything else.
Why, because
even drug dealers want their daughters to be princesses. I remember when
I was pregnant with John, my firstborn, the son I lost- I was in love. I
thought that I would be married forever. I thought that my love could
cure all, that I could protect this beautiful child and bring him perfectly into
the world. More than anything I wanted my family to be healthy, happy,
and prosperous. I thought age was for the old. Age did not happen
to the young.
No, no, no.
Age was something they were afflicted with, but me, I would be young
forever, I would never die. I felt my parents’ problems would never touch
me.
Kate Middleton is
the commoner who married a prince and who will some day be queen. Her
role is clearly defined but being redefined. She didn't stay at the
"palace" but instead went back to her parents with William and the
baby to be a "real mom".
They say in functional
families the rules are clearly defined but flexible. In dysfunctional
families the rules are poorly defined but rigidly held. And in Hollywood
they don't want equals, they take hostages.
John would go to a
party in his wildest outfit-a feathered vest, cape, hat, boots, Versace suit
with cross rib bonded jacket. His good friend Steve said it was for
effect. He liked to be noticed, to make a statement, but then he didn't
care. He would be himself and laugh, and joke with everyone and charm them all.
But in the end he didn't like Hollywood. He thought it was fake and
lived in the Bay Area.
Even if it isn't
the fairytale one thinks it is, I still like looking at the young family of
William, Kate, and George and thinking it all is perfect. I loved that
dream.
John has four
children without a father. I am no longer married to his father.
February is coming up. It will be six years. I am separated from my long term partner. There are two beautiful,
funny, charming twins I spend a lot of time with. They are reviving me,
bringing me back to life, to be reborn and flourish!
Sunday, January 19, 2014
We're beat!
My son Dan, and his girlfriend Sophia, are here helping watch the twins while Jordan goes to a conference. The one rule she gave is don't pick up the girls at night time, no matter what.
Jordan snuck out yesterday so the girls would not see her leave. Dan and Sophia were doing great with all the schedules, food, everything. Tess and Gigi went down nicely and we all thought, yeaaaa!
Of course that isn't how the nights have been with Jordan. One of them always seems to be getting up in the night, and its always something- a wet diaper, constipated, a poop, gas, they want to see their mother.
I was just about going to sleep, it was around 11pm when the next thing I knew Gigi was up and Dan was trying to hold her. She was writhing and screaming and Dan handed her to Sophia in the girls "pen". Actually its a fenced in area that has a bed on the floor and Jordan's been sleeping there until she gets the doors on the room. It's supposed to be the third bedroom, but instead its a play room and we have two living rooms.
Sophia took Gigi, I joined her, and there were the most blood curdling screams I ever heard. You would have thought she was being murdered! And she was throwing herself around, she wouldn't let Sophia touch her. She was going to hurt herself, and she had to be contained.
I tried to grab her, but she was thrashing about. Dan brought us a bottle of chamomile tea, Sophia left the play area, and I laid down with her, holding her tightly in my arms. She was sucking on the bottle for dear life. Pretty soon the tea was gone but she kept sucking, which is supposed to produce gas, but at this stage I figured who cares?
Dan and Sophia didn't know what to do, so they crept around eventually sleeping on the single bed in the second living room.
I just kept holding her, I'd never been able to sleep with the girls, but last night I had no choice.
This went on for an hour and all I could think was that Gigi woke up and realized it wasn't her mother, and she was inconsolable. Finally she went to sleep but she continued to cry in her sleep for another hour. I needed to go to the bathroom, my throat was dry, I was on the edge of the bed, but I had to stay put.
Finally I went to sleep and then about 4 got up. I'd heard Tess crying in their bedroom. I got up, did a lou stop, drank some water, and went back to bed with Gigi. It was 4am, they got up anywhere from 5:30 to 6am.
Which was what happened just as I was going back to sleep- I heard Tess in the other room. Now it was play time to get up-5:50.
A few minutes later we were going over what happened. Dan said that Gigi, when he picked her up, was fine. It was when he tried to put her in the crib in the second ling room that she freaked out. I thought she'd woken up, realized Dan and Sophia were not her mother and got hysterical.
As it turned out, they went back to the front room to bed and Tess had gotten up and slept with Sophia on the couch from 3am on. We were all exhausted and it took until 1pm for the girls to finally take a real nap.
Dan didn't tell Jordan the full story, just that the girls got up, to which Jordan said "don't pick them up no matter what!"
Sure!
Jordan snuck out yesterday so the girls would not see her leave. Dan and Sophia were doing great with all the schedules, food, everything. Tess and Gigi went down nicely and we all thought, yeaaaa!
Of course that isn't how the nights have been with Jordan. One of them always seems to be getting up in the night, and its always something- a wet diaper, constipated, a poop, gas, they want to see their mother.
I was just about going to sleep, it was around 11pm when the next thing I knew Gigi was up and Dan was trying to hold her. She was writhing and screaming and Dan handed her to Sophia in the girls "pen". Actually its a fenced in area that has a bed on the floor and Jordan's been sleeping there until she gets the doors on the room. It's supposed to be the third bedroom, but instead its a play room and we have two living rooms.
Sophia took Gigi, I joined her, and there were the most blood curdling screams I ever heard. You would have thought she was being murdered! And she was throwing herself around, she wouldn't let Sophia touch her. She was going to hurt herself, and she had to be contained.
I tried to grab her, but she was thrashing about. Dan brought us a bottle of chamomile tea, Sophia left the play area, and I laid down with her, holding her tightly in my arms. She was sucking on the bottle for dear life. Pretty soon the tea was gone but she kept sucking, which is supposed to produce gas, but at this stage I figured who cares?
Dan and Sophia didn't know what to do, so they crept around eventually sleeping on the single bed in the second living room.
I just kept holding her, I'd never been able to sleep with the girls, but last night I had no choice.
This went on for an hour and all I could think was that Gigi woke up and realized it wasn't her mother, and she was inconsolable. Finally she went to sleep but she continued to cry in her sleep for another hour. I needed to go to the bathroom, my throat was dry, I was on the edge of the bed, but I had to stay put.
Finally I went to sleep and then about 4 got up. I'd heard Tess crying in their bedroom. I got up, did a lou stop, drank some water, and went back to bed with Gigi. It was 4am, they got up anywhere from 5:30 to 6am.
Which was what happened just as I was going back to sleep- I heard Tess in the other room. Now it was play time to get up-5:50.
A few minutes later we were going over what happened. Dan said that Gigi, when he picked her up, was fine. It was when he tried to put her in the crib in the second ling room that she freaked out. I thought she'd woken up, realized Dan and Sophia were not her mother and got hysterical.
As it turned out, they went back to the front room to bed and Tess had gotten up and slept with Sophia on the couch from 3am on. We were all exhausted and it took until 1pm for the girls to finally take a real nap.
Dan didn't tell Jordan the full story, just that the girls got up, to which Jordan said "don't pick them up no matter what!"
Sure!
Monday, January 13, 2014
Kris Kringle and a Great Xmas Party!
Sidney is having a Kris Kringle Xmas party. Everyone is exchanging gifts! Sidney is celebrating Xmas and the fact that she is getting her house back after 6 months of remodeling. Not that the job is finished. Her gorgeous third floor master suite has its own balcony, a wall of glass, his and her closets and a beautiful bathroom with heated small Italian Tiles. But lots of things are not done-missing doors and woodwork, unfinished plumbing, the master toilet backing up, the balcony not safe, etc. The fact is that Sidney and Mark are sleeping on the floor of the living room since Sept. 5th, and it is now December 10th!
The workers finally left her house a week ago and she is now working to put it back together for the holidays. The nightmare of remodeling! "The marriage of remodeling" always starts out so hopeful, and then near the end the woman says to her husband, partner, mate:"I can no longer deal with this contractor any more. You talk to him!" Which translates into, "I'm not paying another cent. He hasn't finished the job, it's all half done, I'm going nuts!" Which is exactly what Sidney said to Eric. "I can't deal with them any more, I'm thinking of suing, this has gone way over budget, you deal with it!"
Sidney's celebration is a Xmas party, Eric's relatives visiting them, and her sister coming down from Connecticut with her husband and three children, and lots of neighbors, friends from the kids school, and old friends dropping by. My own sister was coming in that night and we took the twins to Sidneys at 4. It was freezing outside as we walked to the party. We had the twins in tights and their tops underneath their coats and the down 40 so that we could put them in the "velvet dresses" Sidney had gotten for their Kris Kringle when we got to the party.
Her house looked great, the tree was big and huge in the front room, the dining room filled with food, champagne, lots of people, and SIdney in a smart black sequined top and black pants with her hair up. Eric was in the kitchen making food.
Sidney is tall, about 5'9", and her sister, with her blond hair and height I recognized right away. I hadn't met her children, two boys and a girl. The both were over 6'2" and they had that Eastern "preppy" look. It turned out one of her sons went to Barnard College and was studying film. But not as a major, just taking a course he assured me.
It's interesting, that Eastern look of the "privledged suburban child" vs. the city look. Kids raised in the big houses in Rye, Ny; Summit, NJ; Hartford, Conn.; have that protected, privileged look that city kids, even if they are privileged, don't have. There's just too much you can't shut your eyes to in the city. You ride the subways, see the poor, rub elbows with more of the grittiness of life. You are not coddled the same way suburban kids are.
Back in 1981, we'd lived in one of those big houses in Summit and my ex. worked in NY near the world trade center. I wanted the children to walk to school, and my ex wanted me to give them a ride. we got into a argument and it was decided that if it was below a certain temperature I would drive them. Of course, I still felt they should walk, but my ex wanted them coddled and babied! And I have to say my older son and my younger son were both brats expecting whatever they wanted.
But back to the party. The girls got their velvet dresses on and Gigi let everyone hold her. She was really enjoying it while Tess just wandered from room to room checking, grabbing whatever she could. When you have toddlers you don't get to stand around and chat. You are on the move!
A lot of the neighbors and friends Sidney had made at the kids school came. The talk was of property, one friend had sold her property for 3.5 standing room outside to bid! Now they were looking for another house.
We left before seven because the girls had to go to bed and my sister was coming in. Unfortunately, she would miss the party.
The workers finally left her house a week ago and she is now working to put it back together for the holidays. The nightmare of remodeling! "The marriage of remodeling" always starts out so hopeful, and then near the end the woman says to her husband, partner, mate:"I can no longer deal with this contractor any more. You talk to him!" Which translates into, "I'm not paying another cent. He hasn't finished the job, it's all half done, I'm going nuts!" Which is exactly what Sidney said to Eric. "I can't deal with them any more, I'm thinking of suing, this has gone way over budget, you deal with it!"
Sidney's celebration is a Xmas party, Eric's relatives visiting them, and her sister coming down from Connecticut with her husband and three children, and lots of neighbors, friends from the kids school, and old friends dropping by. My own sister was coming in that night and we took the twins to Sidneys at 4. It was freezing outside as we walked to the party. We had the twins in tights and their tops underneath their coats and the down 40 so that we could put them in the "velvet dresses" Sidney had gotten for their Kris Kringle when we got to the party.
Her house looked great, the tree was big and huge in the front room, the dining room filled with food, champagne, lots of people, and SIdney in a smart black sequined top and black pants with her hair up. Eric was in the kitchen making food.
Sidney is tall, about 5'9", and her sister, with her blond hair and height I recognized right away. I hadn't met her children, two boys and a girl. The both were over 6'2" and they had that Eastern "preppy" look. It turned out one of her sons went to Barnard College and was studying film. But not as a major, just taking a course he assured me.
It's interesting, that Eastern look of the "privledged suburban child" vs. the city look. Kids raised in the big houses in Rye, Ny; Summit, NJ; Hartford, Conn.; have that protected, privileged look that city kids, even if they are privileged, don't have. There's just too much you can't shut your eyes to in the city. You ride the subways, see the poor, rub elbows with more of the grittiness of life. You are not coddled the same way suburban kids are.
Back in 1981, we'd lived in one of those big houses in Summit and my ex. worked in NY near the world trade center. I wanted the children to walk to school, and my ex wanted me to give them a ride. we got into a argument and it was decided that if it was below a certain temperature I would drive them. Of course, I still felt they should walk, but my ex wanted them coddled and babied! And I have to say my older son and my younger son were both brats expecting whatever they wanted.
But back to the party. The girls got their velvet dresses on and Gigi let everyone hold her. She was really enjoying it while Tess just wandered from room to room checking, grabbing whatever she could. When you have toddlers you don't get to stand around and chat. You are on the move!
A lot of the neighbors and friends Sidney had made at the kids school came. The talk was of property, one friend had sold her property for 3.5 standing room outside to bid! Now they were looking for another house.
We left before seven because the girls had to go to bed and my sister was coming in. Unfortunately, she would miss the party.
It's the New Year-2014
Christmas is gone and so is Hannukah. It's January and it came in bold dumping 8 inches of snow-it was the talk of the nation, the big storm. Getting the twins out and in their down 40's, their snow jackets and mittens on them (they don't go on), is a nightmare. Getting them down three flights of stairs is even more of a challenge. They are 14 months and get very needy whenever anything happens like we take one twin down and leave the other in the safe pen until we can get her.
The minute they notice that might happen, like we are going out, they bellow like cows needing to be milked! They are both sensitive now about this, as they are about getting their bottles. They are still getting them, 3 times a day, and the second they see a bottle they start crying and screaming very dramatically.
Kidville over the holidays was like being in a dryer. Kids tumbling all over the place, 5 year olds running into 14 month olds, fathers smelling of testosterone playing with their children because their wives demanded it. The fathers are trying to be helpful and encouraging, and the children are just running everywhere. I had a headache when I left.
Jordan spoke up to a five hear old who was being rude and pushing the girls around. Then she told the staff there were too many children.
Apparently now they have made Kidville into two areas, "the theatre", which is really just a big room with a place where the "band" plays for 0 to 2 and the padded gym area for 2 and up. The nannies all looked bored yesterday. Some just sit there with their "I phones" and the children run around on their own. I wonder what the "guilty" mothers would think if they saw this.
It just seems today that motherhood is just guilt, guilt, guilt. Jordan gets up every day at 6 or 5:30 with the twins, goes into work at 9, gets home at 8, and then gets up with them at night. On the weekend its just the twins, twins, twins, and maybe one workout. She's under a lot of pressure at work, they are presenting at the end of the week and Jordan's traveling without the girls. It's a first. She has her brother and his girlfriend coming in for the night time. It will be interesting.
The other day Jordan put Tess in the front living room, which is our neighbors bedroom. He came up at 2am saying he needed to sleep and he had a big meeting the next day. Jordan apologized, but Tess had been unable to sleep and was crying with Jordan for 3 hours when she put her in the other room.
Oh how desperate young mothers and father's are. They have a 7 year old and 2 1/2 year old and the little one Jennifer, tried to have a tea party for the girls 3 times and gave up crying down at their place. So, we had them up for a tea party the next few days.
The minute they notice that might happen, like we are going out, they bellow like cows needing to be milked! They are both sensitive now about this, as they are about getting their bottles. They are still getting them, 3 times a day, and the second they see a bottle they start crying and screaming very dramatically.
Kidville over the holidays was like being in a dryer. Kids tumbling all over the place, 5 year olds running into 14 month olds, fathers smelling of testosterone playing with their children because their wives demanded it. The fathers are trying to be helpful and encouraging, and the children are just running everywhere. I had a headache when I left.
Jordan spoke up to a five hear old who was being rude and pushing the girls around. Then she told the staff there were too many children.
Apparently now they have made Kidville into two areas, "the theatre", which is really just a big room with a place where the "band" plays for 0 to 2 and the padded gym area for 2 and up. The nannies all looked bored yesterday. Some just sit there with their "I phones" and the children run around on their own. I wonder what the "guilty" mothers would think if they saw this.
It just seems today that motherhood is just guilt, guilt, guilt. Jordan gets up every day at 6 or 5:30 with the twins, goes into work at 9, gets home at 8, and then gets up with them at night. On the weekend its just the twins, twins, twins, and maybe one workout. She's under a lot of pressure at work, they are presenting at the end of the week and Jordan's traveling without the girls. It's a first. She has her brother and his girlfriend coming in for the night time. It will be interesting.
The other day Jordan put Tess in the front living room, which is our neighbors bedroom. He came up at 2am saying he needed to sleep and he had a big meeting the next day. Jordan apologized, but Tess had been unable to sleep and was crying with Jordan for 3 hours when she put her in the other room.
Oh how desperate young mothers and father's are. They have a 7 year old and 2 1/2 year old and the little one Jennifer, tried to have a tea party for the girls 3 times and gave up crying down at their place. So, we had them up for a tea party the next few days.
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