So, I’ve been thinking about Baby J (that’s my brother’s nickname for his unborn child) a lot lately. And it’s made me think back to the days when my brother, our cousins, and I were little, but the thing is I don’t really remember most of those years beyond what was captured in old photographs. And an inordinate number of those photographs were taken at the beach; there is a lot of photographic evidence of what my parents, grandparents, and aunts and uncles looked like in the early 80s. And man, I do not want there to be a lot of pictures of me at the beach; not the way I look now, anyway.
So Baby J has inspired me to start taking care of myself. I don’t expect to lose 50 pounds before next summer, but I know I can get to a place where I will be comfortable having my picture taken on the beach. (This kid is gonna change the world. Not even born yet and already fucking shit up.)
You guys, I’m going to be an aunt!!
I’m thrilled for my brother and sister-in-law! I’m thrilled for my parents! And I’m thrilled for myself because I no longer have to feel guilty about not giving my parents grandchildren since I don’t want kids. I don’t have to worry about that anymore. Hooray!
It’s not Facebook official yet, so I’ve been sworn to Facebook secrecy. But I didn’t see any harm in sharing the news on my blog since as far as I know only one person who knows me reads it and she was already sworn to Facebook secrecy. (I kind of can’t believe I’m using the phrases “Facebook official” and “Facebook secrecy” unironically. It’s a strange world we live in.)
I know my brother and sister-in-law will be fantastic parents and I can’t wait to meet the newest member of my family in April.
I’ve never understood the whole Christmas in July thing. Why not Christmas in June? I mean, June 25th and December 25th are equidistant; Christmas in June would make more sense to me.
The actual point of this post, however, is this: I’m going home; I’m going home for Christmas. (Sung to the tune of this Blink-182 song, which has been in my head for a week.)
I’m pretty fucking excited about this, you guys!
And it’s not just a trip home (even though that would be more than enough); it’s a trip to New York City as well! My parents are spending the two weeks before Christmas in NYC and I am joining them on 12/20. The three of us are then taking the train to Philly on 12/23 and will spend the rest of the week crashing at my brother and sister-in-law’s. The only downside to the plan is that I won’t have access to a car while in Jersey, but I’ll be able to deal with that.
I can’t wait to spend Christmas Eve with my mom’s side of the family. (I’m so excited that it’s sure to be a crushing disappointment, but whatever.) I can’t wait to spend a few days in New York again. I’m just really, very excited! And I only have to wait five months.
My birthday-twin (cousin) just posted a picture of her two-year-old on Instagram and, damn, she looks like me. Not necessarily like me now, but definitely like two-year-old me. (She also looks like her mommy and her grandmom.)
I’ve mentioned before that my other cousin’s oldest daughter looks a lot like me. Now I’ve got to wonder if the 11-month-old is gonna look like me someday.
DNA is such a strange, strange thing. I really never thought that there was much of a family resemblance amongst my cousins, not even when we were kids. But the next generation is making me think that there was and is.
I promised my mom I’d take her to get blood work done tomorrow. Little did I know that she wants to leave at, like, six in the morning. This will be fun. At least there shouldn’t be too many cars in the Dunkin’ Donuts drive-through.
Of course, getting my butt out of bed has been really difficult lately, so I should probably go to sleep now.
I’m not sure what’s more remarkable: that I managed to spend 5.5 hours helping my dad do stuff at the church(es) or that I’m still awake at 11:30. They’re both pretty shocking if you stop and think about it.
Other remarkable things include the fact that I spent a lot of that 5.5 hours dealing with heavy pieces of metal and managed to avoid injury and the fact that I was touching things that my brain classified as being dirty (including picking stuff up off the floor) without any outward sign of just how anti the whole operation I really was. (Have I discussed my issues with respect to things that are dirty? Because that’s a fun topic.)
Wow, okay, I am really very tired. And if I want to head back to my house at a decent hour tomorrow (and I do), then I had better go to bed.
I’ve been at my parents’ house for a week now. I really, really ought to go home. But I had to stick around today to sign for and set up the Apple TV they ordered. And tomorrow I have to help my dad with some demolition at the old church. (I get a free lunch out of it, too.)
But if I’m being honest, I would’ve preferred going home yesterday. I love my parents, but there is such a thing as too much family togetherness. I’m just so bad at saying “no” and sticking up for myself. Especially since they’re my parents. And they bought me an expensive Christmas present that I’m still feeling guilty about.
I don’t know how long tomorrow’s demo will last, but I can pretty much guarantee that I won’t go home afterwards. It’s a long drive and I like to avoid any chance of getting stuck in rush hour traffic, even if that means spending another night at my parents’ house. But I really do have to go home on Saturday.