On the shifting of family plate tectonics

When I got home from the dropoff trip, I opened Lauren's door and sighed at its emptiness. She pretty much packed up everything and cleared the room out, partly because it needed to be that thoroughly cleaned (she's an accumulator, that girl) and partly because bedroom space is at such a premium around here that we might need to use it for other uses when she's gone.

Later in the day, G said "oh, you opened her door! I've kept it shut because it's too hard to see it so empty and Laurenless."

We realized, G and I, that part of our melancholy is because we are both oldest children in our families. We've never been the person left behind before! We did the moving out, intoxicated with new freedom and forward momentum and oblivious to the shifts in the family plate tectonics we left behind.  I have a new appreciation for those youngest children in families, who say goodbye and adjust, goodbye and adjust, goodbye and adjust, bearing witness to the dwindling resident family numbers and the countdown to an empty nest. 

So I want to apologize, these decades later, to my youngest brother. Sorry, Chris.  Being left behind kind of stinks.

That's not to say what we have right now, with the four of us, isn't wonderful. It is, and all the sweeter for realizing how quickly the time will fly until we will say goodbye and adjust, goodbye and adjust, again. We've shifted our places at the dining table to be more cozy. Maddy and Sam get along famously and seem to be closer than ever: friends as well as sibs. We text and call Lauren like crazy and love to hear about her life and update her on ours. For instance, Maddy is in the throes of watching the disgusting driver's ed movies and Sam is rereading the summer book assignment for 8th grade for good measure and learning Somewhere Over the Rainbow on the ukelele.  Life is good. We're adjusting and shifting.

. . .

FYI, Lauren has started a blog of her college days. Email me if you'd like to know where to find it...I asked and she's fine with us living vicariously through her. :)

Quick jaunt

 

Mid-week, when I glanced at my calendar, I noticed a startling emptiness on Saturday. Astonishingly blank! Maybe it's that none of the kids is playing a sport this season or the stars aligned in a one-time-only position but it was all the encouragement I needed to dart down to NYC for the afternoon. Maddy came with me for a little m-d-o and we hit the Shake Shack and Central Park and then headed to the Village (I like to say that all hip and casual-like: just heading to the Village. Shall we meet in the Village?) to meet up with my sister and brother, who both live in Brooklyn.

Truth be told, that was the real reason I was hankering for a NY trip. It had been ages since I saw Chris and several months since I saw Nancy. I wanted to get a glimpse of their handsome faces and get/give some hugs. It was time. And I want to be a better, more there sister.

So we met in Washington Square and saw all the happy craziness there--the piano player and the hula hoop people and the mass hypnotism/meditation and the musician playing two trumpets at once and the other 5 musical acts busking--then found a nice little French cafe for linner.  Hugs, check. Handsome faces, check. (Missing yours, though, Matt!)

 

Let's not dwell on the miserable return home, shall we? Well, maybe just a little: The colds that Maddy and I had both been ignoring attacked with a vengeance.  We staggered north to our car, first walking, then taking the metro, then (after stopping for a red velvet Magnolia cupcake for Miss M, naturally) we succumbed to the siren call of the yellow cab.  The drive home reminded me of this time, after another Nancy/Chris dinner: my eyes trying to make little bargains with my brain that my body can't keep. But we made it, huzzah! It was a jaunt worth the price of admission.

For those of you keeping score at home, that's two consecutive weekends of choosing fun over work. It reminds me of that wonderful Louise Plummer essay, Thoughts of a Grasshopper, reworking the grasshopper and the ant fable. I'm part ant/part grasshopper.  It's just that my grasshopper ways are more fun.  Tomorrow, back to ant-hood.

. . .

Listen: Getting Some Fun Out of Life ~ Billie Holiday

The mystery of you...(and where I've been)

As luck would have it, my brother Matt planned to come east from Denver right during the same weekend G and I were planning on heading to NYC.  So Matt stopped by Boston, visited the kids, and then drove to the big city with us. G was busy during the days with a conference but the four siblings managed to get together a bit for a rare together time.  So hyggli, so lucky!
 

 How could I resist? Thank you Mr. Elbow Toe.  So true. 

 Matt, Nancy, and I went to L'Ecole, the restaurant for the French Culinary Institute where students run the show. It was lovely. (Thanks to stephmodo for recommending it.)

 

We walked all around the city (I think I walked 12 miles one day), did The Highline, went to a couple of movies, ate at Hampton Chutney, browsed windows and a used bookstore, talked and talked, attended evensong at St. Thomas Cathedral. 

Yesterday I was on my own so I spent the day at the Met and in Central Park. And I might have gone to Pinkberry for breakfast and dinner, ordering my favorite: original with mango, raspberries, and pineapple.

G was international law guy by day, handsome companion by evening. We ate and wandered and talked and laughed and slept in. Twas a good few days.

As for re-entry? Number one on the to do list: get a replacement retainer for Sam. Louie ate the old one yesterday, if you call 6-days-old "old."  How many jobs does it take an 11-year-old (or a dog) to pay off a new retainer?  We'll find out soon enough!

Big City weekend

My mom and I spent Labor Day weekend in NYC, seeing shows, eating good food, and visiting with my sister Nancy, who lives there. I know I've said it before but New York is something of a pilgrimage for us. My parents lived there and loved it, I was born there, yada yada lalala. I grew up hearing NYC stories and feeling like it's home. It's one of our happy places. So when my mom came to Boston for a visit with us, we jumped on the chance to sneak away to the Big City for the weekend.

Big Apple, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways (and share in case others are looking for some NYC tips, especially since I got a lot of guidance from others' blogged suggestions. Isn't blogland grand?).

Good eats:

~ italian pre-theater dinner on 9th Ave at Roberto Passon : warm beet salad with goat cheese + veal scallopine

~ pear, brie, and honey sandwich at a french bistro I can't remember the name of but now I have a new favorite sandwich

~ Moto in Brooklyn: artichoke with saffron mayo + side of mashed potatoes + heavenly date cake

~ Pinkberry: coconut fro yo with dark chocolate and shaved coconut

~ Mother Burger: late night (post theater) lemonade and shared fries sitting in a courtyard and people watching

~ Magnolia Bakery (the one near 30 rock): devil's food cupcake with cream cheese frosting

~ junior mints at every show (to be expected when you're with my mom)

The Theata:

~ Billy Elliott, (with David Alvarez as Billy) Amazing.

~ West Side Story (we loveloveloved Anita and Maria and Bernardo but Tony was having an off night, although he is very handsome)

~ we decided to see The September Issue, the documentary about Anna Wintour (you know, the inspiration for the Devil Wears Prada) and producing the September issue of Vogue. I am now a huge fan of Grace Coddington; she steals the show

~ the 39 Steps (I had seen it before with G but it was still great fun. Kind of a mystery and a farce all in one)

New York moments--priceless:

~JLo and Marc Anthony sat a couple of rows in front of me at Billy Elliott. Totally surreal! He is tiny, she is gorgeous. They left with a bodyguard a little before intermission and again a little before final curtain.

~ sitting in Bryant Park with my mom, Nancy, and Nancy's boyfriend Dave. The fashion week tents were up, people were playing ping pong, and a quite crazy, slightly dressed, bearded woman nearby (she looked like Pan) made for a memorable afternoon

~ eating yogurt breakfast on a bench in Central Park

~ exploring the Brazil Day street festival on 5th Avenue, complete with mechanical bull riders, street food, loud music, and lots of yellow and green

~ hitting the candy bar at FAO Swartz

~ pretending we were guests at the Plaza Hotel (i.e., snooping through the lobby and smelling the flower arrangements to see if they were real)

~ watching the swing dancers in the center of Times Square

~ admiring the rooftop views from Nancy's apartment building in Brooklyn. Breathtaking.

~ listening to the Mad Jazz Hatters at Moto (see photo, far right. I was right next to them and loved every minute of it). Very cool early jazz + jugband + klezmer sound

~ seeing a guy in handcuffs on Times Square, standing next to some policemen. On closer examination, we saw that the guy was wearing a tshirt that said "Doesn't play well with others." Classic.

Bunking

In the cabin that my grandfather built, there is a bedroom downstairs for the grandparents and then there is an open loft upstairs with...(counting)...seven beds, a mix of doubles and singles, that can sleep eleven or more.  Plus a crib or two.

On summer evenings, all the cousins would be put to bed upstairs at the same time and grandpa would tell a story about Billy Johnson the pioneer boy and Tokonebo his Indian friend.  He would tell it....very...slowly....with many...breaks...so we...would {ideally}...drift off...to....sleep.  Then (if you outlasted Grandpa's storytelling) you could eavesdrop on the grownups and their games for hours into the late evening.  As you can imagine, I gleaned a lot of knowledge from words drifting their way up to the loft: On life, loving, fighting, sex, living, religion, politics, other perspectives, and always humor.

Later, all the grownups would climb the big wooden staircase, find their beds,  (some of them) snore, and sleep.  All of us in one big cozy dorm-style room.

All of this is just to say: I'm a fan of that kind of situation, bunking together. At least in theory.  

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In our current house, we have a strange set-up.  There are two master bedrooms (don't know why...one has a big room + sitting room and the other has a big room + master bath) and two itty bitty bedrooms.  Currently, G and I use the master bedroom with the master bath, the girls each have a tiny bedroom, and Sam uses the "sitting room" for the other master bedroom while we use the room itself as a study/studio/craft/guest room.

I'm itching to shake things up and one option is to have the kids (or at least the girls) move into the other master bedroom, dorm-style.  They have had their own rooms for several years but part of me thinks/wishes that they would be closer if they were sharing a room for these last few years before they move away and do separate things.  But I realize I may be living in my own glowing la-la land where kids make their beds and talk late into the night about sisterly things.

Did you share a room growing up? What are your opinions on bunking together?  In favor? Against?