Friday, June 24, 2011

holy shit! (part II)


oh dear Mom,

holy shit. the cat has more in common with Luc than i do. aside from the whole "different species" thing, they're practically kindred spirits.

here's a little list of similarities:
  • small, yet heavy
  • most charming when silent
  • affectionate, but don't like to be held
  • whiny when hungry
  • is always hungry
  • therefore, always whiny


hey! what do you mean that sounds exactly like me?! 
i am not sm... i mean, i don't wh...  fuck.


WHO DOES IT BETTER?
LUC VS. INCA


  1. Agility......  INCA
  2. Native Intelligence......  LET'S WAIT AND SEE
  3. Vocabulary...... TIE
  4. Scratching......  INCA
  5. Taking big, messy poops......  LUC
  6. Milk desired...... TIE
  7. Milk obtained.... LUC
  8. Ability to undo every last productive thing you've accomplished in the preceding hours.... LUC
  9. Creative ribbon dancing.... TIE
  10. Destroying all concentration.... TIE
another similarity: you can easily see their essences. they are clear and unfiltered. their needs and joys are so basic, and they are mostly either filled with love or milk.

is this how you fell in love with me?! i think it must have been, but only you know.

i have to say, Luc has a much nicer smile than Inca. and of course, he'll surpass even the most clever of cats. he'll grow up to be something called a Man. he'll have opinions, girlfriends or boyfriends, he'll read newspapers and write emails. maybe he'll curse the alarm clock in the early morning or get up with the dawn like he does now. he gets a real charge out of beating me in the head with an empty Evian bottle, so i'm sure he'll be musically inclined. a full set of teeth are destined to be his.

i'll be in my forties when he graduates high school.

but for now he's in diapers, in pajamas, little bigger than the cat. matter of fact, i think i hear him calling now...




 until next time,

Gina







    Thursday, June 16, 2011

    holy shit!

    whoa dear mom,

    holy shit!

    as you know, i've recently started caring for a beautiful baby boy. formerly, i'd make up all kinds of excuses not to go near them.

    wanna hold the baby?
    no no, i'm allergic. but thanks.

    hey gina, could you take the baby for a sec?
    you know what? i just ate. no exercise for at least half an hour, sorry!

    perfectly astonishing, then, that i'm spending this summer in company of a baby... and what a baby he is.

    STATS:

    Name: Luc XXXX
    Weight: One and a half average adult size (female) bowling balls.
    Size: Quarter of a Gina.
    Likes: Elephant noises, cheese, peek-a-boo, eating twigs.
    Speaks: Babble. Fluent.
    Work History: Professional demolition man.
    Salary Expectations: Cookies.

    happy baby and happy lady

    edging ever closer to thirty, it's an interesting place to find oneself in. i mean, i'm almost the age you were when you had me!  and not too far down the line, a decision waits about whether i, too, shall join your ranks.

    i have to admit that i'm taken by him. he's charming and delightful and so in the now, it's crazy. with him, it's all about the journey and every destination is paradise. i'm a student in the school of baby consciousness, of discovery and wonder...

    and then he loses it and i think, "wanna go play with the sharks, Luc?"

    it's incredible, the amount they eat. i don't eat as much as the baby does (then again, my brain stopped growing loooong ago.) but did i really eat that much? did i, too, gum your favorite shoes to death? did i  bicycle-peddle all over your face while you changed my diaper? and even though i was a nightmare colic baby, you continued loving me anyway? that's pretty badass.

    which brings me back to holy shit. this baby isn't mine and i won't make you a grandmother in the immediate future. the generational cycle is pulling -- i feel a part of it and apart, and it's complicated, as i'm sure it was for you, too.

    but i hope, if or when it's my time, that i can remember Luc's absolute delight this morning as i changed his shitty diaper... which is to say that anything, anything, can bring us a little bit closer to grace.


    sour face!


    until next time,

    Gina


            






    Tuesday, June 14, 2011

    Balcony Garden of Deliciousness

    oh. dear. mom.

    guess what! i have a something that starts with the curliest cursive letter in all the alphabet.

    not a gimp, nope! not a gurgle, nor a garter, but getting close, close, closer....  A GARDEN! a wonderful little garden.

    i have to confess: i was a little worried that i'd inherited your black thumb, which killed houseplants practically on contact. even the cactus, that low-maintenance failsafe of domesticated flora, shriveled up under your ministrations like overcooked bacon. (it's a wonder i survived infancy.)

    but not to fear! i've been doting and my plants are a-thriving! i've got:


    • eight salads
    • one basil plant
    • one purple sage
    • silver thyme
    • flat-leaf parsley
    • chives


    salads are under cones, to the left.

    thyme, sage, flat-leaf parsley... yummmm

    everyone in the world (no one but me) is super stoked about all the wonderful potions and folk remedies i can now conjure up from my very own mini-garden. my newest nighttime ritual is to rub a sage leaf all over my gums (sage is a powerful anti-inflammatory and anti-bacterial as well), meaning i never get kissed after 9PM.

    also, it was incredibly satisfying to rid my salads of powdery mildew using... 

    hello? MOM! are you SLEEPING?  uh, what does "just resting my eyes" mean? i'm telling you about how i killed the dreaded powdery mildew using only 1,000 google searches, a spray bottle and water + milk in a ten-to-one ratio and your eyes are on standby? no wonder all your plants turned to mulch.

    the saved salads, by the way, are purple-leaved and delicious. if only you were here... i'd certainly invite you to share one with me.

    until next time, your budding gardener (get it?!)

    GINA