Introducing Cassandra Zaishay Chittister
30 Oct 2011 7 Comments
in adoption Tags: adoption, Cassie, family
It’s official! Jackson is now a big brother!
Birthplace
29 Aug 2011 Leave a Comment
in family history Tags: family, grandparents, martinez, pittsburgh, postaweek2011
The WordPress post of the day for August 24, 2011:
Have you been to where your parents were born? What was it like? If you haven’t been, describe how you imagine it to be.
My mom was born in Pittsburgh, PA, as was my grandfather. My grandfather attended Carnegie Institute of Technology. Someone told me that one of his prouder moments was when I went to Carnegie Mellon University. At CMU, I had the opportunity to see where my grandfather grew up, in Homewood and where my mom and her siblings grew up, including their house, in Point Breeze. I actually attended the church they attended, St. Bede’s. My mom went to the attached school. One summer, my friend Ken was in a show that was performed in a chapel. I was surprised to find out that the building had been Ursuline Academy, where my mother went to high school. CMU was only a few blocks away from Central Catholic High School, where my grandfather was MVP of the football team.
My father was born in New Jersey and lived in Massachusetts before moving to Martinez, CA. His stepfather built the house his family lived in. Sadly, it was sold after my grandmother died, but I know exactly where it is. My dad attended Alhambra High School, and I played basketball in their gym in junior high.
I feel very fortunate to have spent so much time in places that are so tied to my family. When I was going through old pictures, I found many pictures of my grandfather on the Carnegie Tech campus. I loved that! My grandfather is one of my very favorite people, and I miss him terribly. I’m glad to be connected to him through a common place.
Two Years Ago
21 May 2011 1 Comment
in not kids Tags: death, family, mom
Two years ago, I got a call before 8 o’clock in the morning.
Two years and just a few days ago, my mom was still alive.
Last year, I went to the cemetery and talked to my mom. Then, I went shoe shopping. That night, some friends took me out and I got more smashed than I’ve been in a long time. Since college. (But still not as smashed as I got on my 21st birthday.) I’m just sayin’…
Two years ago, I was in the car on my way to Fremont to a friend’s daughter’s birthday party. My aunt Carol called. She wanted to know how many tables we were going to have at the reception after my mom’s funeral. I said ten. Ten eight-person rounds. She thought that would be too many, and she didn’t want to see a lot of empty chairs. I was thinking that our family alone is about 40 people, and we’d definitely have 80. I remained firm in my decision to put out ten tables.
We had a rosary the night before the funeral. There were probably 30 people there. Family. Some of my mom’s co-workers. Our next door neighbors from when I was little, whom I hadn’t seen since I was in grade school when they moved away. My 5th grade teacher, Mrs. Dorsey. A couple of my dad’s friends.
The funeral the next day was pretty well packed. There are four sections of pews in the church. The middle two were almost full. That’s about what they’d get at the 10:45 Mass I used to go to.
At the reception, they needed to add more tables.
There was a table full of people from the Pleasant Hill Senior Center. There was a table full of my sister’s friends. (Most of her friends remained in the area after high school graduation. Most of mine didn’t.) There was a table that included my sister’s best friend from grade school, my mom’s hairdresser, and my mom’s manicurist. There was a table full of my mom’s co-workers, who must have had to take time off in the middle of the day to attend the funeral. (I don’t know if there was anyone in medical records for a few hours that day.) There was a table or two of my dad’s family – 2 aunts, 1 or 2 uncles, 2 cousins and their wives, 1 cousin’s wife, 1 second cousin, all from up north. My godmother was there. One of my friends from high school came with her husband and their son. Oh, and of course my mom’s family – 4 uncles, 3 aunts, I can’t even remember how many cousins, my cousin’s girlfriend even though that cousin couldn’t make it, my grandmother, my sister and her family.
My sister and I had just started planning my mom’s 60th birthday party. It was going to be at Christmas 2009. We asked Mom whom she wanted to invite. She said, “Just family.”
I still wonder why she said that. Did she think that no one else would want to come? I thought we’d invite everyone – her co-workers, her friends from near and far, her manicurist and hair dresser. She said, “Just family”.
I hope she knew, before she died, how many people cared about her. Between the rosary and the funeral, there were probably 100 people. And those are just ones that could drop everything in the middle of a Thursday. I know her friends from Pittsburgh wanted to come, as well as some family who just couldn’t swing the long distance trip. I got so many email messages and cards from her cousins. Almost every cousin sent something, in fact. And 2 of her aunts and 1 of her uncles – the only ones who were still alive at the time, actually.
Over 100 people. I hope she knew. And if she didn’t, I hope she was there and saw. I hope she was pleased at the turn out. I hope she heard all the nice words people were saying. I hope she knew, posthumously, how many people cared.
What makes me very sad is the chance that she doesn’t know. That there’s nothing after this life. That she died thinking she was a burden, and never had the chance to know the truth.
People love you mom. People care about you. People think of you every day. People miss you. People want you back. People want to call you and tell you their news. People want to wish you a Happy Birthday and buy you Christmas presents.
I hope you know all that.
Mother
08 May 2011 Leave a Comment
in not kids Tags: family, memories, mom
My sister and me with our Mom
I have a feeling this is going to be one of those posts that makes people angry with me. But, it’s been in my head for a long time.
My mom passed away almost two years ago – May 21, 2009. She was 59. (Aside: Her mom died on May 28, 1980, when she was 58. I’m really not looking forward to May 2035.)
When I was in college, I remember being home, probably for Christmas break. I was in the kitchen, and my mom was in her usual spot at the dining room table. Out of the blue, she asked me if I thought she was a good mother. I think I asked her if she really wanted to hear the answer. You see, I’m a terrible liar, especially when put on the spot. Anyway, she did, so I said, “no.”
There are things mothers are supposed to do, and, perhaps more importantly, there are things mothers are not supposed to do. Two of the milder examples of the latter would be paying me to do my sister’s homework and constantly comparing the two of us, though we’re very different.
I know my mom did her best. I know she tried very hard. I know she loved us very much. I know that her life was not at all what she expected. Her mom was an alcoholic and abusive*, so she didn’t really have a good foundation. (Though I do believe there comes a point when you have to stop blaming your mother for everything. But that’s another post.)
When she died, I sang at her funeral. Mom loved Barbra Streisand. The only Streisand songs I knew at the time were “Memory” and “People”. “Memory” didn’t seem appropriate. I hate “People”. A friend suggested “The Way We Were”. I told my Aunt Sue (mom’s youngest sister), who immediately pulled up the lyrics on her computer while we were talking on the phone. The first verses sounded pretty good, but it was the bridge and last verse that sold me. I knew the song was perfect:
Can it be that it was all so simple then?
Or has time rewritten every line?
If we had the chance to do it all again, tell me,
Would we? Could we?
Memories
May be beautiful and yet
What’s too painful to remember
We simply to choose to forget.
So it’s the laughter
We will remember
Whenever we remember
The way we were…
This is so true. During high school and college, I tended to be very angry with my mother, for all of the things she wasn’t. I loved her, but I didn’t like her. After I graduated and moved across the country, and got married… the anger started to fade. By the time I moved back here, I had started to like my mom again. I’m far more likely to remember how she cared for me when I was sick. How she let me stay home from school an extra sick day so I could see the end of the Love Boat Egypt episode re-run. How she basically trusted me to do the right thing. How, even if it may have been the wrong time or for the wrong reasons, she always let me be independent.
Most importantly, I think about how hard she worked. At times while we were growing up, she had three jobs. She worked in “Health Information Management” – medical records – at a hospital for 35 years. For most of our lives, she came from work to pick us up from school and was with us in the afternoon. When we got older, she was home at 4:30. My sister started a paper route, and Mom started the route the next block over. After my sister was no longer interested, she took both routes, and then became the person who drives the papers to all the carriers in the area. She was awake at 4 in the morning. She crushed cans and turned in recyclables. But she still found time to volunteer at our schools. She was on my Grad Nite committee, as fundraising chair, I think. She was so proud of what they were able to accomplish – and it was pretty cool! The bathrooms were pleasantly unrecognizable. (That was her favorite part, seriously!)
So yes, it’s the laughter I’ll remember.
I really do love you Mom. And I miss you every day. I thought it would get easier. It doesn’t.
Happy Mothers’ Day.
My mom in 2005 at my sister's wedding rehearsal dinner (photo by Aunt Carol)
* This would be my grandfather’s first wife, who died in 1980. My grandfather’s second wife, whom I call Grandma and Jack calls Great-Grandma, is wonderful. As far as I know, the only thing she’s ever beaten is a golf ball (and I’m sure it deserved it).
Fare Thee Well
29 Jan 2011 1 Comment
in not kids Tags: family, funeral, o'connors, uncle lowell
My Uncle Lowell and I at my 16th birthday party
My Uncle Lowell passed away last weekend, January 23. He was 78. It was very sudden. Uncle Lowell was my Dad’s oldest sister’s husband. They have four sons – Vern, Mike, Joe, and David. Vern and Joe are fairly local, while Mike lives in Texas with his wife and two kids and David lives in Oregon with his family. My Aunt Wallie and Uncle Lowell live(d) in Fairfield, which is about an hour away.
As a child, I remember going to Aunt Wallie & Uncle Lowell’s. Uncle Lowell was a geologist. In fact, I only found out today that his work was not geology, but at the oil refinery. I always thought he was a geologist by profession. Anyway, Uncle Lowell had a whole room devoted to his rocks. He used to give Ann and me rocks – I have an amethyst, a small sapphire, a quartz crystal, and I think Ann got a really tiny opal in a vial, as well as a geode. We really loved the rock room, though it was a bit spooky.
Uncle Lowell was corny as all get out. He loved to tell the same silly jokes – all. the. time. But he could be genuinely funny, and he was truly a Nice Guy ™. He and my aunt raised four great guys.
My Dad, Max, Jackson, and I all went to Uncle Lowell’s memorial service today. All four of the boys were there, as were most of the grandkids. I forgot my camera. At a Matoney event (Mom’s side) forgetting your camera just means that you have to convince Aunt Carol to send you the contents of her camera’s memory card. At a Nace event, apparently no one remembers a camera. (I do think my Aunt Terry got a few pictures.) I did have my cell phone, so I took some blurry pictures with it. I’m going to share them here. You can click a thumbnail to get a bigger picture.
-
- My cousin Joe, Jackson, my second cousin Alyssa, my Dad
-
- My second cousins Mandi & Alyssa speaking at the service
-
- Jack got to pet one of the doves they released
-
- The O’Connor family before the dove release
-
- My cousin Mike & me
-
- My Aunt Wallie with her sons David, Joe, Mike, & Vern
-
- My second cousins Karina, Marc, & Alyssa
-
- My Uncle Lowell and I at my 16th birthday party
Family History Tuesday: Grandparents
20 Jan 2011 Leave a Comment
in family history Tags: family, grandparents, memories, photos
Almost every Tuesday, Dede offers question(s) or idea(s) to spark a memory to capture for your children, grandchildren, family, and friends.
This week’s prompt: Describe your favorite memories about your grandparents.
My mom’s mom died in May 1980. (Actually, my mom’s funeral was on the anniversary of her death.) I was only 4-1/2. I have a lot of impressions of “Grandma Missestoney”, but only a couple of concrete memories. My favorite involves pushing my sister into a towel rack. You see, I was chasing Ann (probably age 2) through the house. She ran into the kitchen and I pushed her. She hit her head on the towel rack on the kitchen/garage door. She needed to go to the ER, so my mom dropped me off at my grandparents’ house. They took me swimming, at Heather Farms Park I think. When we got back to the house, we had dinner. My aunts were there. They were in college, I think. Or maybe Aunt Carol was already working and just living in the Bay Area. Anyway, I remember sitting at the kitchen table with Aunt Carol, Aunt Sue, my mom, my dad, and my grandfather. (Ann must have been there too, but I don’t remember her there. I can really see the others sitting down at their places.) My Grandma was up and down going into the kitchen to get things. Everyone was trying to get me to eat broccoli, which I did not want to do. My grandmother came back from one of her trips to the counter and said, “Leave the girl alone!” or something to that effect.
Grandma Missestoney was an alcoholic. Apparently, she was incredibly mean to my mother. But I only remember her being nice to me. She yelled at me once, for pulling on a pussywillow that she had in a huge vase in front of the fireplace. It was a you’re-going-to-break-something yell, not a mean yell.
My Dad’s mom, Grandma Babica, died in October 1980, so I was 5. The memories I have of her are vague impressions. Most of what I remember is her house, along with her garage. Her husband (my Dad’s stepdad, who died before I was born) built the house and garage himself. There was a peach tree out back, and rose bushes in the front. I know where the house is, but I haven’t been there to see it since I was in college. What I remember about Grandma Babica was that she made Jell-O with peaches from her tree. I remember playing with Ann in the back of the garage, where there were plants. It was dark because the back windows were covered with a ripply green plastic. There were clotheslines hanging across the driveway, and Ann and I used to throw a ball at them. If we hit them, we got a point.
My mom’s Dad, Joe, died in 2005, just a few weeks before Jack was born. I have lots of memories about him, fortunately. He was a truly awesome man, and I wish I had … I guess there are some things that I regret doing. I wanted him to be proud of me. I probably succeeded in some ways, but there are three things I did that I think upset him, and I wish I hadn’t done them. Nothing major, but, I know he was disappointed, and it hurts to think of him being disappointed in me. I went to Carnegie Mellon because he went there when it was Carnegie Tech. I know that made him happy. Hey, it made me happy too! I met Max and learned so much more than I would have here at a UC.
Grandpa remarried after Grandma Missestoney died. At first, his new wife was “Grandma Diane”, but she became “Grandma” by junior high. She’s still here with us. If anyone can live to be 100, Grandma can. I tell Jack that, and it makes him happy. I really hope I’m right. She goes to the Fitness Center almost every day, plays golf, does errands for and with her friends, and she’s in a bunch of clubs and groups. Her social calendar is probably more packed than ours most months. I know this isn’t a memory, just random facts.
Christmas with Some Pictures
26 Dec 2010 Leave a Comment
in Christmas Tags: Christmas, family, photos
I finally downloaded the pictures from the camera to the computer, and it seems that my computer is no longer randomly dropping my Internet connection. So, I can share a few photos of Christmas.
Our plans were derailed a bit by illness. Max got sick first, about 1-1/2 weeks after Thanksgiving. He went to the doctor this past Monday, and it turns out he has a double ear infection. Jack has had a cough since around December 12. It wasn’t getting any better, so we took him to his fabulous pediatrician. Dr. Singer told us that Jack has “a little bit of pneumonia”. O… K… So he’s been on antibiotics and breathing treatments since Thursday. (Jack is really good about taking medicine.) Jack’s doctor told me I should call my doctor. She was off for the holiday, but she did say it would probably be a good idea for me to be on antibiotics as well. I got the cough a few days after Jack did, you see. Under normal circumstances, I’m not one for random medication. But it seemed best in this case. And I actually do feel better.
Well, that was longer than I intended it to be. Anyway, we’re all on the mend, though we’re all a little slow, tired, and cranky.
We didn’t get to go to church on Christmas Eve, which was a big bummer. We also didn’t get to stop at the cemetery to see my Mom. I know for a fact she wouldn’t have wanted me to drag a sick Jack out there in the mist and cold, so I don’t feel too guilty about that.
Christmas itself was also cold and rainy, which it often is here in CA. Jack woke up and he opened his “big present” – the Lego airport. We started putting it together, then I made a Starbucks run. Just after I got back, my Dad and Grandma came over with even more presents. I convinced Jack to stand in front of the tree with the presents for a picture, then the present distribution began. 
Jack was spoiled, as usual. He took everything in stride, and even told us we should open presents before he finished opening his. He received dozens of books, several Lego flying crafts, the Trio Batcave, his own gardening tools (from Grandpa Bob of course), three shirts, a superhero cape, and some craft items. Max noticed that we didn’t get any toys that make noise, so people must really like us this year.
Jack’s behavior post-present wasn’t quite so good. He was tired and cranky, and Daddy was cooking, Mommy was getting the table ready and preparing snacks for the grandparents, Grandpa Bob was playing solitaire, and Great-Grandma was trying to engage Jack to no avail. We had “dinner” at 1 pm, and Jack went down for a nap immediately afterward.
At Jack’s request, Max put together all of his Lego objects, including the 700 piece airport. Jack was very happy with his gifts, and there were no tantrums about them at all. (Not that he usually throws tantrums, but he’s been very cranky with being ill, as one might expect.)
Family History Tuesday: Three Generations
23 Mar 2010 Leave a Comment
in family history Tags: cousins, family, grandparents
(originally published on LiveJournal)
This week’s question from Designz by Dede is:
Name three generations of family members on your mother’s and father’s sides, starting with yourself and any memories/stories you have of them.
My long-term memory is as good as my short-term memory is bad. Therefore, I have a lot of stories about distant and not-so-distant family members.
One of my favorite memories – and least favorite, actually – involves my Aunt Sue and Uncle Bruce. I gather that Sue & Bruce met in law school at Berkeley, and they dated for quite awhile before they got married. One day, my Aunt Sue watched my sister and I at her apartment. Not-Yet-Uncle-Bruce was there too. I was about 5, maybe even 4, so Ann would have been between 2 and 4, depending on the time of year. Anyway, we were helping them clean the apartment. Bruce accidentally sprayed Lemon Pledge into Ann’s eyes. He was panic stricken! It was sooooo funny! That same day, we were supposed to go to the zoo. Only it turned out that it wasn’t a real zoo, it was a group of people who were pained to look like animals. I still remember some guy (I think he was a guy) painted like a zebra. Freaked me out, big time.
Both my mom’s mom and my dad’s mom died in 1980. I don’t have a lot of memories of them. I do remember playing hide and seek with Grandma Missestoney (mom’s mom). I also remember a day when my sister and I were running through our house. I pushed my sister into the kitchen towel rack. She ended up having to go to the emergency room, so my mom dropped me with my Grandma and Grandpa. They took me swimming. Later that night, we all had dinner together. The aunts – who I guess still lived at home, or at least nearby – were all trying to get me to eat broccoli. Grandma Missestoney raised her voice and told them to let me be. I used to remember exactly what she said, but I can’t now. I just remember her standing there in the kitchen with a casserole dish.
My Grandma Babica (Babica is Polish for Grandma) lived in this tiny house in Martinez. I found out recently that her second husband built it. I never got to meet him. He died before I was born. Anyway, the house had a garage with a green plastic roof. My sister and I used to sneak out there to see what was in it. I can’t remember if anything good was there. I remember plants. The house had a small backyard with a peach tree. I do remember picking peaches and making Jell-o with peaches in it with my Grandma.
I guess that’s only two generations. Seeing as how only one of my great-grandparents ever met me – and it was in 1976, when I was one – I don’t have any memories of them. So, I’ll come back down to my level – my cousins. I have a zillion cousins. Seriously, there are:
- Vern & Sue, who have Thomas
- Mike & Danara, who have Trevor and Caitlyn
- Joe & Wendi, who have Nick, Chris, and Mandi
- David & Dawn, who have Karina, Marc, and Alyssa
- Tony & Jeanette, who have Lauryn, Jordan, and Teryn
- Roger and his wife, who have kids, but I don’t know them
- Jimmy and his wife, who have two boys, Josh and something
- Anita & Fred who have Emma and Jake (twins)
- Beth & John who have John’s step-kids, whom I don’t know
- Cathy & Scott who have Josh, as well as Scott’s 2 step-kids
- Kristen & Adam who have Eden and Eliana
- Jen
- Dan
- Heather & Stephen who have Stevie and GIa (twins)
- Bill & Stephanie who have Sarah and Isaac
- Jessica
- Tyler
- Nick
- Scott
- Sandy
- Jake
I started out with my Dad’s side (Vern through Jimmy). Jimmy and Roger are my Aunt Betty’s kids. Betty is schizophrenic, and I’ve been scared of her since I was a kid. I found out when I was in high school that she had a third child, whom she placed for adoption. I’ve always wondered about that. My dad’s side of the family isn’t particularly close to us, but they’re still nice people. I was really touched by how many of them showed up at my mom’s funeral.
On my mom’s side, we’re all pretty close, I think. At least Kristen on down through Jake. Kristen, Jen, Bill, Ann (my sister), Dan, and I are close in age. Jessica, Tyler, Nick, Scott, Sandy, and Jake are all my baby cousins, though Jessica just graduated from grad school and Jake is a freshman in high school. He’s the last one in high school actually. Sandy started at Amherst this fall.
I’d also like to mention something I find interesting. In Max’s family, many of his family members became pregnant out of wedlock. In my family, the only member to experience a pregnancy outside of wedlock was my cousin Bill. He and his girlfriend Rachel had Sarah. They split up sometime after Sarah was born, and Bill ended up with custody. He and his new wife, Stephanie, just had Isaac last fall. So my cousins range in age from about 50 (Vern) to less than 1 year (Isaac).
I’ve never met Josh, Caitlyn, Jordan, Teryn, Isaac, or my cousins Jimmy’s and Roger’s kids. I also haven’t met any of the step-kids. It’s not for lack of wanting to. There just aren’t a lot of opportunities to.
Family History: Family Members
10 Mar 2010 Leave a Comment
in family history Tags: daddy, family, grandparents, mommy
Once again, DesignZ by Dede poses a question about family. (And yes, I know that, by the time you read this, it will be Thursday.)
Describe each member of your family. How do you see/feel about your parents, your siblings, your spouse, and your children?
This could take awhile… No, is too much, let me sum up…
Everyone here knows that Jack is 4 and is the most amazing little boy on the planet. I’m seeing some of our habits manifest themselves in him, and I worry about that. I don’t want him to be as stressed as his dad and I.
Max is a complicated guy. I guess I just wish that I knew what I could do to make him happier. My senior year of college, I remember saying something to him like, “I could totally make you do whatever I want.” And it’s true. I can. I try not to use that power for evil, but sometimes, I just don’t think about it. I know what I want, and that’s that.
My mom passed away in May. My relationship with her was complicated as well. I wasn’t the daughter she wanted, and she wasn’t so much the mother I needed. She had a big heart though, and she loved her grandsons. I think life dealt her a bad hand, and she never really got over it. I miss her.
And, speaking of complicated relationships, there’s my dad. He’s 72 right now, 12 years older than my mom. He had meningitis when I was 4 – one of my first memories is of my mom and my grandma (who died in 1980) helping my dad down the hall out the door to take him to the hospital. The disease and/or the medications for it left him with the emotional maturity of a 12 year old. I think everyone would agree that 12 year olds shouldn’t be raising kids. I’ve put a lot of my childhood in a box in my head, and I don’t go anywhere near it. If I did, I think I’d end up like my mom, just too overwhelmed to overcome it. My dad is like a big kid, and sometimes it’s just best to let him do what he wants. Of course, he wants everyone else to care about what he cares about. He’s a gardener. I kill plants. I’m pretty sure that disappoints him.
So, yeah, that’s us in a nutshell.
Being a Mommy
10 Mar 2006 Leave a Comment
in everyday Tags: family, funny story, laugh, mommy, smile
Being a mommy doesn’t start when they let you take the baby home from the hospital, even for biological mothers. For the first several days of Jack’s life, I was afraid to be his mommy, lest I upset his birthmom. When we took him to the hotel from the hospital, he was 3 days old. Very tiny. Very new. Very fragile. By comparison, his 7 week old body seems made of rubber and Velcro. It’s only when I see him next to my hand, fitting in Max’s arms, curling up on my shoulder, that I realize, hey, this is one tiny baby.
The weeks in the hotel felt like a movie, in that I was playing the role of “adoptive mother.” Landing in Oakland, I could relax more. Soon, we would be with friends and family who cared.
After being here for about a week, I realized that, while I felt like a mommy in the caregiver sense, I did not know if Jack knew I was his mommy. And when I thought of that, I felt, well, more like a baby-sitter. A close, personal friend of the family type baby-sitter, but not exactly a mother.
I don’t know if this feeling is “normal” or “average” or something peculiar to adoptive parents. Somehow, I just felt slightly less than mommy. Once Max and I worked out a schedule in which I put Jack to bed, I felt far more mommy-like. Although, as a baby-sitter, I sang a lot of little ones to bed, the experience of carrying my own little guy to bed was an instant connection.
This past week, Jack started smiling. The books say that he’s smiling because he’s content, and that social smiling (smiling back at people, or smiling to elicit a smile) doesn’t start until 2 months. Fine. Jack is smiling because HE is happy. That makes me happy! He smiles and coos, and we’ve had a few conversations which, if they were overheard, would probably cause the education police to come and take my diploma away:
Me: Ah goo.
Jack: Ah goo.
Me: smiling
Jack: open mouth smile, then Oh
Me: Oh
Jack: Ah goo
Me: Ah
Jack: (I wasn’t done yet!) Ge
Me: So sorry. Ge.
Jack: nothing
Me: Ah goo?
Jack: nothing
Me: (maybe he’s mad because I interrupted him) Oh?
Jack: Ah goo
Jack actually laughed today. I’m not sure he knew why I thought it was so cool, and he didn’t do it again. But he did laugh. He was in his bassinet, and I was playing with him by getting my face really close to his, holding his hands and saying, “Bugaboo!” After awhile, he laughed. I tried doing the same thing again, and, while he seemed to enjoy it, he didn’t laugh. Indeed, he eventually gave me the 80 year old man I’m gonna fuss face, so I took him out of the bassinet.
At this point, I am fairly secure in my mommy-ness. Max, of course, never had the feeling that Jack didn’t know he was daddy, so he is continuing to be secure in his daddy-ness.
In other news: Tuesday, we took Jack to Berkeley to see my cousin Jessica. Jessica plays Division I lacrosse for Vanderbilt in TN, and her team played Berkeley (and won). We met up with her after the game for dinner and socializing. Jack, of course, was a big hit, even with perfect strangers. My grandmother came with us, and just held him practically the entire night. When he got fussy in the restaurant, Max took him out. He has a story about improvising a changing table in the mens’ room.
Wednesday, Max and I both felt like we had colds, so most of that day I spent napping with and without Jack, and Max did the same. Our goal was to keep the three of us alive, and we did, so I call it a good day.
Yesterday, our real estate agent came by and took Jack and me to lunch. Jack does not like Pick Up Stix. Poor Max handled a fussy Jack all day, while I did laundry and got around to some of the piles of stuff that have been sitting here for a month.
I have to go see if Jack’s breathing now. Good night!
