UnFun-eral

I went to a funeral this past weekend. I took Little Man. It was in Chicago. I have various thoughts on the trip:

1.) The MidWest: Sometimes I find oppressing the nasal vowels and overcompensating friendliness of the MidWest. Not this time. I was all about O'Hare gate agents asking for my boarding payaaaaaaasssssss. When you travel with a wee one, the heaping helping of neighborliness is welcome.

2.) Twizzlers Pull n' Peel: It is possible, in case you were hazarding a guess, to inhale nearly a whole bag of these whilst contending with grief and elder Koreans telling you to change your shoes because you look tired. The?

3.) Bigheaded Assurance: In case there was any doubt in my own mind, as in, Ohhhhahaha, maybe I'm just exaggerating because I look at him everyday, my son does indeed have an enormous head with an immense forehead, rendering him a genius, of which, at last count, every other elder Korean at the funeral did not hesitate to inform me.

4.) Burden: I have attended two funerals in the last two years for men who have passed away in their fifties, who have left behind loving wives and loving sons in their twenties. Men nearing middle age, please please see your doctor regularly. And please heed your doctor's counsel.

5.) Absentia: Just over 24 hours away from Baby Girl was enough of an interlude for her to cloak herself in a whole new lovely layer of sweetness. When she awoke at 3 a.m. this morning, it was apparently due to the fact that, "Let me just give you a hug. Night."

6.) Last solo flight: I think this was the fourth roundtrip flight I have made as one parent traveling with 1-2 children. I think I overheard my lap say, "Annnd, scene! That's a wrap!" this last trip. I hope I don't have to fly sans Loverpants anytime soon. Or again. Ever.

7.) It's good to be back to this:

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Choice Move

"So, how's packing coming along?" Other variations of this questions include, "Are you all packed yet?" and, my favorite, "Did you already pack the weapons of mass destruction?" Actually, no one has asked me that final question, but my answer would of course be, Dude, those get packed LAST along with the toothbrushes and beef jerkey. I think it is fair to say that no one really cares how packing is coming along and if you are all packed yet. Just like no one really cares if your six month-old is eating solids yet. But what else is there to ask? What other riveting things does a six month-old do? There are no other conversation starters about a wee baby that do not end with a simple yes or a no. Has he found his toes? Yes. Does she enjoy her tubbies? No. See? At least the question about solids invites a whole produce aisle of possibilities. Excitement!

But I will answer the forced question of how packing is coming along. I would say that we are about 40% packed. We don't have a lot. I've been organizing and purging for months. It's just carving out the time when two rhesus monkeys aren't commandeering me as a jungle gym. Packing entails permanent marker and there is nothing rhesus monkeys like more than for giving themselves temp tattoos with blue Sharpies. And after tending to primates all day, who has energy to pack? I ask you.

Mostly how I've been spending my time is the same way I always spend my time: not cleaning my home, frantically cleaning my home because someone is coming, building couch forts for rhesus monkeys, reading Fancy Nancy books, cooking vegetarian, sucking air at Baby Boot Camp, and trying not to get caught naked post-shower by the sneaky contractor who comes like the wind (who has been working on the ceiling of our basement). Ahhh!

Anyway, we're doing okay. Packing-wise and emotional-wise, we're pretty all right. I think this move would be a whole lot worse This move would totally be craptrocious if it was under duress and if it wasn't our choice. Moves are so much nicer when you've got time to pack and think and say proper good-byes and go to J.P. Licks every day just so you have the sense memory of Coffee Oreo locked and loaded.

I realize in this respect that I've been profoundly lucky, ya know? I've chosen all the moves I've made in life.

Here's my resume:

1. 1980 - Mother's womb --> Outside World: I totally chose when to evacuate. It was getting crowded up in there. 2. 1986 - House in Cleveland suburb -->Bigger House in Other Cleveland Suburb: There was a basement the size of a McDonald's and that was putting the groovy in my smoothie. 3. 1998 - House of Girlhood --> Spacious Dorm with Malibu Barbie Roommate: I didn't get to choose the roommate but we got along famously, and I did choose the wellness floor because SURELY EVERYONE would abide by the substance-free rules ALL YEAR and we would just eat carrot sticks and do yoga in the study lounge for periodic study breaks. 4. 1999 --> Best RA Room Ever: Got my first choice on the best floor with the bestest RD. That was one of the best choices I ever made.

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5. Fall 2000 --> 2nd Best RA Room Ever: The room smelled like cabbage all the time but the floor and my co-RA were amazing. As was my RD. 5. Spring 2000 --> Swish Apartment in DC: Happiest semester in all of college as an intern. 6. 2001 --> Palacial RD Suite: I could do, like, eleven cartwheels in a row in that room and not hit a wall. Plus! My own bathroom 7. 2002 --> Lovely apartment with wainscotting and Anglophile roommates.

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8. 2005 --> Lovenest with Newly Minted Hub

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9. 2007 --> Our first home where we owned the walls

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10. 2011 - Woah.  Tennesizzle will be my tenth living space.

What about you? What's your living space resume like?

Berkshires, Bucket List

We spent last weekend in the Berkshires.We spent less than 48 hours in the Berkshires.

The elements were in full effect. I drove white-knuckled through the wicked rain along hairpin turns until we reached the inn.

We stayed at the Porches Inn in North Adams, which I've dreamt about for years. It really was a lovely place to stay.

We met my old man and my stepmama and their pooches. They drove 9 hours with their pug children to see their grandchildren for less than 48 hours.

The clawfoot bathtub at Porches afforded me a luxurious bath. I poured in half the bottle of Muppets cucumber bubble bath and hoped no one interrupted me for 15 minutes.

The restaurant representation in the Berkshires was motley. We ate at Friendly's. It was such a spooky Friendly's that the happy ending sundae = the exit door.

It was a wonderful way to spend quality time with the family. I was paranoid the entire time that my kids were going to break everything in the hotel.

The pooches really loved the accommodations. My old man said at one point Stubby looked at him like, Dad? What's with this one bedroom joint? Dja lose your job or something?

The kids really loved the pups. Baby Girl terrorized Ella.

Loverpants and I stole away for a museum date. We weren't at MassMoca for more than an hour and I started to miss my kids.

The grandparents brought toys and tricks for the kiddos. There was mention of a tumble off the bed by Little Man. That's what helmets are for, right?

We left feeling more exhausted than when we arrived. We wished we could have stayed another week :)

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Stubby and his master

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Ella Cabella

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Mass MoCa

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I loved Dude with his high boots and knit vest.

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The famous upside-down trees

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Equal opportunity ordering

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