Friday, November 05, 2004
A Molly we know.
Geoff can't see naming Papaya "Marina," because he plays tennis with a Marina. I won't accept his preference for "Victoria," because I already have a cousin Victoria. There are 2 Ruths and four Rebeccas, a Hope, Julie, Jessica, Alison, Anna, Alice and Alaciel. We know 2 Sophias, a Rosa and a Rosie, and a dog named Rosie too. Cristina, Helen, Carol, Grace, Holly, Noel and Marie: Taken. We always thought to name a daughter "Olivia," but now this once unique name is in the top 5. Also taken: Laura, Betsy, Elizabeth, Aurora, Gretchen, Zoe, Lydia, Madeline, Emily, Kayla, Lily, Karen, Anne, Linda, Belinda, Yanina, Jola, Maria, Janice, Josie, Vera, Deanne.
This subject rolls around my head like a marble in an empty box. Back and forth, over and over. And I wish I could make it stop. It is boring me. And the only excuse I have for boring you, is that as boring as this is, it's way more fun than figuring out what to fix for dinner.
Thursday, November 04, 2004
A New Year
I just found one of those really great Blogs that leaves me feeling inept and speechless. I would share it with you now, but I don't want to. I feel too inferior. At least I don't have to live in Salt Lake City.
At the last minute we threw together some
costumes and went out in to the world,
for some Halloween amusement.
Happy New Year! We have been in the Treehouse for roughly a year, and it's been a sort of rough year. "Rough" as defined in the Suburban Handbook of Middle Class Whiners. I have decide that rather than declare 2004, the calendar year, as bad, I would count from the onset of Nena's death and the Firestorms of 2003, and finish with Diego's last day. So this is our new year and I am open to it being a brighter time for us.
Here is our Indoor Diego. He is the reason that I managed to hold off having another baby for so long. He was my furry baby. He kept all of us laughing and happy and warm. He was there when we were lost and snowed in on our drive through South Dakota. He was there to help Max navigate his way through social anxiety and Aspergers. He didn't just absorb our family's affection, he returned it.
At the last minute we threw together some
costumes and went out in to the world,
for some Halloween amusement.
Happy New Year! We have been in the Treehouse for roughly a year, and it's been a sort of rough year. "Rough" as defined in the Suburban Handbook of Middle Class Whiners. I have decide that rather than declare 2004, the calendar year, as bad, I would count from the onset of Nena's death and the Firestorms of 2003, and finish with Diego's last day. So this is our new year and I am open to it being a brighter time for us.
Here is our Indoor Diego. He is the reason that I managed to hold off having another baby for so long. He was my furry baby. He kept all of us laughing and happy and warm. He was there when we were lost and snowed in on our drive through South Dakota. He was there to help Max navigate his way through social anxiety and Aspergers. He didn't just absorb our family's affection, he returned it.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
An Anonymous Monkey Girl left a comment: "Molly" is nice too, from a fellow monkey girl.
Who are you Monkey Girl? Where do you come from? What are your core values and how do you relate to your family? What does it mean to be a Monkey Girl?
Physically, I could not be any closer to another human being, and yet our Papaya is like the ultimate mystery guest. We devour books and articles about womb life and the developing fetus. We stare with fascination at the tiny ultrasound monitor and nod knowingly when the doctor indicates a femur, heart, bladder. We look at William, Alex and Max and wonder whether she will share their dark hair, large feet, Lego obsession. Will she be a frequent barfer, or cry incessantly? Will she be "petite and dainty", as the doctor promises, or will she come out ready for jumbo Huggies and a brat with mustard?
I don't know whether Chinese astrology can answer our questions. I don't know if I really want any answers. But I do enjoy speculating, and I find myself amused by all the possibilities. Our own Monkey Girl is coming soon, and we will finally see for ourselves what she looks like, and which way she likes to be held, whether she's a Velveeta or Hope, Psyche, Madeline, Olivia, Alohalani, Lola, Molly or Isabel. The rest will be revealed slowly. We will monitor her with fascination and nod knowingly, smiling.
Who are you Monkey Girl? Where do you come from? What are your core values and how do you relate to your family? What does it mean to be a Monkey Girl?
Physically, I could not be any closer to another human being, and yet our Papaya is like the ultimate mystery guest. We devour books and articles about womb life and the developing fetus. We stare with fascination at the tiny ultrasound monitor and nod knowingly when the doctor indicates a femur, heart, bladder. We look at William, Alex and Max and wonder whether she will share their dark hair, large feet, Lego obsession. Will she be a frequent barfer, or cry incessantly? Will she be "petite and dainty", as the doctor promises, or will she come out ready for jumbo Huggies and a brat with mustard?
I don't know whether Chinese astrology can answer our questions. I don't know if I really want any answers. But I do enjoy speculating, and I find myself amused by all the possibilities. Our own Monkey Girl is coming soon, and we will finally see for ourselves what she looks like, and which way she likes to be held, whether she's a Velveeta or Hope, Psyche, Madeline, Olivia, Alohalani, Lola, Molly or Isabel. The rest will be revealed slowly. We will monitor her with fascination and nod knowingly, smiling.
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