TR would be a great stay at home dad

, originally uploaded by La Pauline.

A Few Musical Selections

Last night at one of the Christmas parties, Dire Strait's "Money For Nothing" came over the speakers, and I was reminded of how great a song it is.

You can't have that song without "Sultans of Swing"

And of course, my favorite piece of recorded music.

Last night I was doing some writing and Val decided to be my assistant. No slacking! No stopping! He was serious. This kitten has claws.

Out of all the themes for children's rooms -- safari, sports, boats, butterflies, princesses, I think science is overlooked. Whenever Andre gets fussy I like to take him into the bathroom where he giggles and smiles at the Periodic Table of Elements on the shower curtain. Once he has a proper room, I plan to hang one on the wall. After all, it fits in with everything kids like -- bright colors and big letters.

Yesterday I found this music video about the Periodic Table. Elephants are made of elements!


This one sounds just like "I Am The Very Model Of a Model Major General" from The Pirates of Penzance. And with that last reference, I have officially reached my dork quota for the day.

Ah, the suburbs. I spent the holiday weekend out in Pennsylvania with TR's family. Part of the trip involved an outing to Target (always pronounced Tar-jhay) which to me, a New Yorker, was the ultimate novelty. So many products! So many colors! And it's all practically free! I could spend a week in there, and that's just in the shoe section.

Here I am with a watermelon Slushee in the fake Christmas tree aisle, keepin' in klassy. I think that just about sums up the whole suburban experience.


For the record, TR and I are those crazy people who not only travel with an infant, but with two cats, one of which, Valentino, we let loose in the car. Since I am my mother's child, though, I only packed one suitcase for everyone. And everything fit.


TR and Andre, sightly overexposed.


I was back in New York by Saturday, but that afternoon I was only interested in going to the gym and napping. Sunday found me back in Connecticut for more character building home improvement projects at La Madre's house. This week I peeled off some old carpeting on the main staircase, exposing the 100-year old oak stairs. Clearly the wall paper also has to go (I hate wall paper) but the stairs were a good start.


One problem is that that carpeting was quite firmly glued on 25 years ago and not all of it came off this round. While pulling it off, I kept shouting, "Who's the genius who glued carpeting to 100-year old oak?" I thought it was one of my brothers. Then I realized it was my dad. He suggested a product called Gunk Off, or something like that, so I'll see what that does. But at least the carpeting is gone.


True story about those stairs: They were not always where they are today. When the house was first built in roughly 1885, they were in the large family room in the front of the house. Around the turn of the century an Italian guy bought the house and added on a few rooms as a wedding gift for his bride. He moved the staircase from the front room to the foyer, which he also added. I love that he moved an intact staircase (and its banister) from one room to another. He also took the chickens out of the basement and laid cement down there. Now, in lieu of chickens, we have giant raccoons. Evolution, mes amis.

My dad and I were talking about the house and I mentioned that being there is like being in The Royal Tenenbaums, and he wholeheartedly agreed. That said, let's review the trailer. Such a genius, underrated film. Good soundtrack, too.



And as for the train...I am thinking of starting a separate blog called Seen On The 11:07 To Darien because the Sunday morning train I take out to Connecticut is always an adventure. There is one young, female conductor whom I love, because she's sassy and she yells at riders who put their feet up on seats or don't use luggage racks. She basically says out loud everything every other ride is thinking, because she can because she's getting paid to do so. Let's call her Sharon. Sharon often gets on the intercom and says something like, "Please make every seat available. Your bag does not need a seat when there are people standing in the vestibule."

This morning when we were still standing in Grand Central I had my earphones on and all of a sudden I heard her voice shouting out on the platform. I turned off my iPhone and saw her marching down the platform shouting, "You will put out that cigarette right now or I am calling the cops!" Sharon was angry, like, about to throw a shoe angry. It seems some foreign tourist thought it was okay to sneak in a quick smoke before we took off. Sharon showed them, in the least gracious way possible, that that wasn't a good idea. Welcome to New York!

Since this was a holiday weekend, Metro North obviously made no provisions for the extra riders and sent their typical eight-car train down from New Haven for the afternoon runs into Manhattan. The train I got on at 2:45 was not only late, but packed with so many people it could barely take any more. I squeezed into a spot in the first car, but was literally sitting on top of my bag with eight other young people in the very first vestibule. Since Connecticut is a civilized place, once we were rolling everyone just cracked open their books and read for the 40 minute ride in, as if being sardined into a tin can of a train wasn't even worth the energy to complain about it. No cells phones, no Nextels, no bleeping Blackberries.

And, as if the transportation gods were smiling upon us, no conductor took our tickets.

A Few Pre-Thanksgiving Photos

Everyone seems to be up and leaving for the holiday, but I'm still in New York until Wednesday afternoon.

Andre and Peppe spent some quality time together yesterday on the bed. Peppe lately has been very eager to sit with the boy.


As did TR and Andre

I Think I Am Officially Living In A Time Warp

As if spending my weekends in a home that is stunted in 1991, surrounded by trinkets of my younger years wasn't strange enough, I just found out that I have to take my driver's test again -- both written and road! Oh, and apparently I also need to sit through some classroom instruction as well.

I went down to the DMV this morning, ready to swap my old California license for a New York one so that Madre could put me on her car insurance so I can drive whatever car she gets to replace her smashed up Kia. The thing is, my California license expired a year and a half ago, and the limit for just transferring it is one year.

I could have taken the written test today and been that much closer, but the DMV does not allow you to have a baby with you when you take the test. It's a bizarre policy, but I didn't want to argue with the guy at the desk about it.

Larger issue: I have no idea how I'm going to pass this! The manual is an actual book, not like the few sheets of newsprint I had to study back in 1993. Also: what is a New York City road test like? Do they make you parallel park in Times Square during rush hour?

I suppose I should start reading that driver's manual.

Barn Cats And Other Connecticut-isms

I went out to Connecticut again yesterday, to visit La Madre and bring her some fruits and veggies, since she was running low. It was another lovely day and the barn cats were lolling about. TR asked, "How can you call them barn cats when your mom doesn't have a barn?"

This was a teachable moment. In Connecticut,we don't have stray cats, we have barn cats. These cats don't actually live in the house, but they do come into the laundry room in the evening to sleep, and they have their run of the yard. It's yet another term, like station car, that I've found myself using more often with my weekly trips to the 'burbs.

This week's artifact: my passport from when I was 10 years old! While helping Madre shred some old bills and bank statements, this popped up in a pile of papers. Why it wasn't in a more secure place, like a filing cabinet, I'll never understand. I love the photo, because it documents the beginning of a roughly 10-year period where I had more hair than head.