lawnrrd: (kitty)
I have been fighting inertia for most of the summer, if not longer. I wish I could say that I've been winning. I’m sure that there was a reason for the initial slowdown, but I have no idea now what it was, and now it’s just feeding on itself: inertia leads to anxiety, which leads to avoidance, which leads to inertia. Lather, rinse, repeat.

For all that, I’m also happier than I’ve been in decades. I don’t know whether I can describe what K means to me in any kind of way that makes sense. It feels as though I’ve spent my whole life to this point trying to find a part of the world that feels as though I belong there, and now I have: it’s a bubble that has K at the center.

K and I were married in March, and she’s been pregnant for most of the time since then. The baby is due on New Year’s Day, but we both think she’ll deliver before then.

K has stepped up her efforts to break me out of my do-nothingism. At her urging, I’m getting up early tomorrow to go rock climbing—one of the few times I will have done it without her. At this moment, I think I’d rather sleep in and piss the day away playing computer games. But I know that if I do that, then I’ll be annoyed with myself tomorrow night for having pissed away the day with computer games.
lawnrrd: (Default)
The weekend that just ended was relatively quiet, involving soccer, cooking, and playdates with the neighbor. But I spent much of the previous weekend continuing to reconnect with my family.
There was a bat mitzvah. )
So, it was a busy weekend but a good one. My brother and I managed to reconnect (or continue to) with family that we had become distant from. There was a lot of food, much of it excellent. And K gave me more and more to be grateful for.
lawnrrd: (Default)
The boy is back home from summer camp, and he's brought back some interesting vocabulary, mannerisms, and questions. I'm trying not to be too strict for now, but whenever it comes up, I nonetheless make clear that he's being inappropriate.

As for me, now that he's back home, I'm spending more time at home, too. I'm happy to see him and to have him home, but it does mean dialing back, for a little while, on some of the things that have made this the best summer of my adult life. But life is about change, and his being here is also part of dialing those things back up for good.
lawnrrd: (Default)
When I was growing up, Thanksgiving used to be my favorite holiday. There was lots of good food, of course, and just the right amount of family. I saw just about everyone on Thursday, and only on Thursday, so I caught up with them without getting overloaded. The long break from school meant that I could sleep late and otherwise pretty much do what I wanted without being bothered.

Part 1: Thursday - Saturday )

Part 2: Sunday )


May. 19th, 2011 10:37 pm
lawnrrd: (Default)
I remember from my apartment growing up that we had a cardboard box of our home movies on super 8. Every once in a while, I used to wonder what happened to it. It turns out that my brother had it, and he has been having them digitized.

He told me about it today and sent me a link. I JUST WATCHED MY SECOND BIRTHDAY PARTY. FROM 1969.

Here's a screen grab of the birthday boy:

There's a new sheriff in town.
lawnrrd: (Default)

Highlights (?) of the week so far:

  • It's gray and rainy.
  • Drama with my stepmother regarding care for my mentally incapacitated father.
  • Work, work, work, and it just keeps coming.
  • I have gout. GOUT.

Oh, yes, and all of the foregoing is taking place in Margate. Phooey.

lawnrrd: (spot)

I'm pretty sure that Leo has already played more games of catch with his father than I ever played with mine. That should help to explain something, although I'd be pressed to explain precisely what.

lawnrrd: (Default)

Today is my father's 70th birthday. I wonder if he knows it.

Posted via

lawnrrd: (Default)
Meanwhile, I got a call yesterday (Sunday) evening from my stepmother because my dad's in the hospital. He was running a 104° fever and was even less coherent than usual. They're not sure what's going on; an infection is the obvious culprit, but they're not going to get much of a recent history from my father.

My stepmother told us to stay here—we're really only 90 minutes away by train, 2 hours by car—because they don't really know what's going on, and there's nothing for us to do anyway but to sit around.

I'm not sure what I'm feeling. I like my father, but we were never close. And when his mind began to go a few years ago, that really limited the potential for future development in our relationship. I also feel bad for my stepmother, who is kind, generous, and patient and really doesn't deserve this.
lawnrrd: (spot)
Leo had surgery yesterday, inserting set of tissue expanders in his back. He's sleeping at the moment, but he's certainly been in more pain this time than after some of the prior operations. Lauren and I are very tired.
lawnrrd: (Default)
Between Lauren and Leo, I got very little sleep last night. I did, unfortunately, sleep from about 9 AM to 11 AM, after lying down for "about ten minutes" after our nanny got here. I got up then and started getting ready for work.

When I was about to leave, the nanny got a phone call. A relative in Trinidad is deathly ill, and so the nanny is gone, and I am now home, playing Mr. Mom.

I was treated to a lovely steak dinner last night at Wolfgang's, which was nice, but it involved my family, so there are complications. At the moment, I lack the energy to elaborate.
lawnrrd: (gah)
Leo's surgery last week went swimmingly. He was, as you might expect, quite uncomfortable the night after the surgery, but they pumped him so full of morphine that he had an estimated street value of $3,000, and that got him (and me—I spent the night with him in the hospital while Lauren partied like it was 1999 went home and got some badly-needed rest) through the night.

A day later, though, his day in the hospital meant merely that he was a day behind in yanking books from the shelves and dumping cereal boxes onto the kitchen floor. He's probably caught up by now, but he seems unwilling to take any chances. He has also eagerly resumed his role as disease vector, sharing a nasty cold with both mommy and daddy. Thanks, kid.

In other news, my father was hospitalized late last week. For those of you keeping score at home, my father managed to get Alzheimer's in his early 60s, and is now almost 67. While he and my stepmother were babysitting for my stepbrother, he fell down and suffered some other symptoms. At the time, they thought that it might be a stroke, and they rushed him to the hospital. He turned out to have a bacterial infection that had further screwed up his system, including his balance and memory.

I have not been hospitalized recently, but at this rate, I'm concerned that my "cold" might actually be bubonic avian SARS or something. Wish me luck.
lawnrrd: (Default)
[ profile] lawnrrd: I am reminded of a story involving me and my mother.
[ profile] lawnrrd: We had just left the office of an orthopedic surgeon we had consulted regarding my damaged right knee.
[ profile] roadnotes: ooooooookay.

[ profile] roadnotes: What had happened to it? (Have you told me, and I've spaced it?)
[ profile] lawnrrd: I tore my right anterior cruciate ligament, and damaged the medial meniscus (which is cartilage) in that same knee, while playing pickup basketball in 11th grade.
[ profile] lawnrrd: It took 10 years for me eventually to fix it, but that's largely because that's how long it took for medical science to learn how to do it right.
[ profile] lawnrrd: Anyway . . .
[ profile] lawnrrd: So we had left the office, and the conversation turned to the origin of my singular sense of humor.
[ profile] lawnrrd: My mother said, "Well, of course, you got it from me." But then, as I bent over a water fountain in the vestibule, she added, "Although your father had a pretty good sense of humor, too."
[ profile] lawnrrd: You may have noticed that I cannot resist a straight line. It is a flaw in my character and a source of deep shame to me.
[ profile] roadnotes: Yeah, right.
[ profile] roadnotes: Deep shame, my fuzzy brown
[ profile] lawnrrd: So, there was obviously only one thing I could possibly say next, and I *had* to say it. Unfortunately, just thinking of it got me laughing uncontrollably. I held on to the water fountain for support, and somehow managed to get out the words, "Well, he married you."
[ profile] roadnotes: And her reaction?
[ profile] lawnrrd: That was it. I collapsed to the floor, laughing like a madman. Except, on the way down, I accidentally drove my foot into--no, through--my mother's ankle.
[ profile] lawnrrd: She fell to the floor. Her reaction was about 50% pain at just having her son's foot driven with some force into--no, through--her ankle. It was also 50% offense at what I had just said. Finally, it was also about 50% laughing her ass off. I know that's 150%, but that's just the kind of relationship we had.
[ profile] lawnrrd: At that point, with great force of will, I bring myself together long enough to gasp, "It looks like I just added injury to insult."
[ profile] lawnrrd: And we both totally lose it.
[ profile] roadnotes: Aieeeee. Bad man.
[ profile] lawnrrd: A group of people walks out of the doctor's office at this point, sees us on the floor, pauses briefly, and decides it's best to keep walking and does so.
[ profile] roadnotes: Snerk


lawnrrd: (Default)

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