The research coming out on babies' brains and second languages is astonishing! It's almost enough to make me reconsider having my own little Antonio or Francesca.
This New York Times article has even more cool stuff on the topic.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
On the Verge
I finally printed off Tim and Sarah's Target registry. Weird. This is my first wedding. I mean, this is the first wedding I will be attending without my parents or siblings, and I am neither related to either party nor are their parents obligated to have me in attendance.
My friends are getting married.
When I was six or seven I used to look forward to wedding shopping. Well, really, the whole shebang was pretty exciting for me then--seeing all the pretty dresses and flowers in the church, followed by all-night wedding cake-fueled "dancing" in a dress with a twirly skirt--but going shopping, with a multiple page wish-list in hand like a treasure map...that was the ticket. Especially when we were shopping at Famous Barr. I vividly remember walking through the displays of crystal and china with my arms glued to my sides, terrified by the possibility of breaking anything.
On these shopping trips, my big sister would lead me to the china setting she had her eye on, as though all 14-year-old girls are meant to have their wedding wish-list at least started. Following suit, I would show her my favorite, and then we would hunt down the setting from the registry...and usually criticize the bride-to-be's choice. We were very harsh critics. Then again, we're talking about the mid-'90s, when a lot of the crystal...decor...still reeked of '80s tackiness, so, you really can't blame us.
Seeing that wedding wish-list as a treasure map was the best part, though. After we found the aisle, there was suddenly an unspoken contest between me, my mom and sister to find the item first. "Oh! Here! I found the cow-spotted melon-baller hidden these rose-shaped napkin rings!" Why do people ask for some of the things they do? Do they think they have a quota of absurd kitchen gadgets to rack up? I think wedding planning sometimes does impair judgment.
But then you begin to wonder if maybe they really do want all the things they're asking for. That's when the simple wish-list becomes a little too intimate for me.
You may roll your eyes at this, but there is something uncomfortably personal about a couple's wedding registry and knowing what sorts of shower towels they'll be using or which seat cover they'll put on their toilet. Maybe that's just me. It could be that my mom is to blame for my hang up; on principle, she never bought bed sheets for the newlyweds, and just seeing the desired sheets waiting patiently on the shelf embarrassed me, not unlike the way I felt when my mom would fast-forward through love scenes in movies we were watching.
But I will give her credit for raising me to be a gracious gift-giver. Her usual wedding gift of choice always had a uniting theme. She would never think of crossing genres, say, and give the couple a mop and a lemonade pitcher with a copy of their favorite movie thrown into the mix. No, Mom's typical gift was always something warm a homey: a couple baking sheets, a cookie jar, an oven mitt and (I may be projecting this memory, but...) a fresh batch of her famous chocolate chip cookies. [I'm not kidding around with the "famous" bit; I once had a friend tell me that everyone's house has a distinct smell and that my house smelled like chocolate chip cookies. People go nuts over those cookies.] At the very least, she would include that recipe with the other items, and maybe a couple other classics--for linzer and sugar cookies, snickerdoodles, the like.
So there I was in Target, trying to find a few items I could cohesively present together without being too practical or extravagant; no way was I buying the broiler pan, the replacement Brita filter or the Weber grill. Sorry, guys. I know you need this stuff, but I don't want to be the one to put my name behind the "From:". I finally settled on the cupcake carrier as a likely winner, whatever the hell that was, and I had already started planning out which cupcakes I would be whipping up for them when I noticed the "online only" where the aisle number should have been. My plan was dead in the water. Oh, and did I mention the wedding was about a week away at that point?
Instead, I pretended to forget the real reason I was there and did a little shopping for myself. That's the normal response, after all: denial, avoidance...
It's not that I am against the wedding of my two friends, I just don't feel old enough to be having friends getting married. They're hardly the first couple of my acquaintance to tie the knot, but they happen to be the closest to me. Tim actually called me the summer before they started dating officially. He told me that they had been hanging out at school for the past year or so, and when school started back in the fall they would probably start dating seriously. "She reminds me of you," he said. "I can't wait for you to meet her." I knew then. I'm betting he did too. He was so careful about it, "hanging out for a year" like that. So, yeah, I'm excited to see them get married...but I still feel like that kid with the treasure map.
Living at home with my parents, working on average less than 20 hours a week at a glorified diner, being single...it all adds up to me feeling stunted, behind. I haven't figured out yet what I want to be when I grow up, and the selfish child that I am is freaked out that other people my age have already.
Whatever. I never turn down an opportunity to dress up and wear shoes that click when I walk. It's going to be a beautiful day for a wedding, and I will get to see friends I don't see enough, so I'm looking forward to it, really. And in case you were curious, I'm giving them the cheese board, cocktail shaker and martini glasses they wanted from another store. Pretty warm and homey if you ask me.
My friends are getting married.
When I was six or seven I used to look forward to wedding shopping. Well, really, the whole shebang was pretty exciting for me then--seeing all the pretty dresses and flowers in the church, followed by all-night wedding cake-fueled "dancing" in a dress with a twirly skirt--but going shopping, with a multiple page wish-list in hand like a treasure map...that was the ticket. Especially when we were shopping at Famous Barr. I vividly remember walking through the displays of crystal and china with my arms glued to my sides, terrified by the possibility of breaking anything.
On these shopping trips, my big sister would lead me to the china setting she had her eye on, as though all 14-year-old girls are meant to have their wedding wish-list at least started. Following suit, I would show her my favorite, and then we would hunt down the setting from the registry...and usually criticize the bride-to-be's choice. We were very harsh critics. Then again, we're talking about the mid-'90s, when a lot of the crystal...decor...still reeked of '80s tackiness, so, you really can't blame us.
Seeing that wedding wish-list as a treasure map was the best part, though. After we found the aisle, there was suddenly an unspoken contest between me, my mom and sister to find the item first. "Oh! Here! I found the cow-spotted melon-baller hidden these rose-shaped napkin rings!" Why do people ask for some of the things they do? Do they think they have a quota of absurd kitchen gadgets to rack up? I think wedding planning sometimes does impair judgment.
But then you begin to wonder if maybe they really do want all the things they're asking for. That's when the simple wish-list becomes a little too intimate for me.
You may roll your eyes at this, but there is something uncomfortably personal about a couple's wedding registry and knowing what sorts of shower towels they'll be using or which seat cover they'll put on their toilet. Maybe that's just me. It could be that my mom is to blame for my hang up; on principle, she never bought bed sheets for the newlyweds, and just seeing the desired sheets waiting patiently on the shelf embarrassed me, not unlike the way I felt when my mom would fast-forward through love scenes in movies we were watching.
But I will give her credit for raising me to be a gracious gift-giver. Her usual wedding gift of choice always had a uniting theme. She would never think of crossing genres, say, and give the couple a mop and a lemonade pitcher with a copy of their favorite movie thrown into the mix. No, Mom's typical gift was always something warm a homey: a couple baking sheets, a cookie jar, an oven mitt and (I may be projecting this memory, but...) a fresh batch of her famous chocolate chip cookies. [I'm not kidding around with the "famous" bit; I once had a friend tell me that everyone's house has a distinct smell and that my house smelled like chocolate chip cookies. People go nuts over those cookies.] At the very least, she would include that recipe with the other items, and maybe a couple other classics--for linzer and sugar cookies, snickerdoodles, the like.
So there I was in Target, trying to find a few items I could cohesively present together without being too practical or extravagant; no way was I buying the broiler pan, the replacement Brita filter or the Weber grill. Sorry, guys. I know you need this stuff, but I don't want to be the one to put my name behind the "From:". I finally settled on the cupcake carrier as a likely winner, whatever the hell that was, and I had already started planning out which cupcakes I would be whipping up for them when I noticed the "online only" where the aisle number should have been. My plan was dead in the water. Oh, and did I mention the wedding was about a week away at that point?
Instead, I pretended to forget the real reason I was there and did a little shopping for myself. That's the normal response, after all: denial, avoidance...
It's not that I am against the wedding of my two friends, I just don't feel old enough to be having friends getting married. They're hardly the first couple of my acquaintance to tie the knot, but they happen to be the closest to me. Tim actually called me the summer before they started dating officially. He told me that they had been hanging out at school for the past year or so, and when school started back in the fall they would probably start dating seriously. "She reminds me of you," he said. "I can't wait for you to meet her." I knew then. I'm betting he did too. He was so careful about it, "hanging out for a year" like that. So, yeah, I'm excited to see them get married...but I still feel like that kid with the treasure map.
Living at home with my parents, working on average less than 20 hours a week at a glorified diner, being single...it all adds up to me feeling stunted, behind. I haven't figured out yet what I want to be when I grow up, and the selfish child that I am is freaked out that other people my age have already.
Whatever. I never turn down an opportunity to dress up and wear shoes that click when I walk. It's going to be a beautiful day for a wedding, and I will get to see friends I don't see enough, so I'm looking forward to it, really. And in case you were curious, I'm giving them the cheese board, cocktail shaker and martini glasses they wanted from another store. Pretty warm and homey if you ask me.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Puppy Love
June was ripe and plump
and peach-colored all over.
I was playing house in the city,
with a dog, a set of keys and a garage in the backyard.
The day exhaled into late afternoon,
and an overindulgence of summertime gave way to siesta-ing.
With arms and legs stretched out in opposition,
I welcomed the twilight breeze over every inch of my skin.
Almost imperceptibly, my charge appeared at my hip,
her solid body resting against my side.
No whining, no sad eyes;
just her quiet presence and a desire for affection.
I stroked her head, starting at the crown,
looped around her ear,
and let my hand rest on her shoulder.
Sometimes a dog's love
is the sweetest.
 | ||
| My furry little niece. photo by katie t |
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