Goodbye, Christmas

The tree is being reintroduced to its box at this very moment. Gavin, with the same efficiency he showed taking out the ornaments in the beginning, took down the ornaments and passed them to us for packaging. It was a great season this year, I'm sad to see it go.

Yesterday, Mike took us out too look for New Year's Eve supplies. We bought all the snacks in Costco and were very sad about their lack of drinkable beer. My mother dragged off a huge roast for us to gnaw on. Back at home, I sat around in my newly-clean living room (with thanks to my mother for taking Gavin out while I got the place in order) and zoned out in front of Robotech while my mother annoyed the neighbors by letting Gavin interact with their kids. After the boy was safe in bed, Mike and I snuggled up in front of Garden State while Invader Zim shrieked from my mother's bedroom upstairs.

Today we'll continue our hunt for Guinness, champagne, soda, and fireworks, as Mike winds up for his party tomorrow night at his drummer's house. We all hold out hope that Gavin will sleep soundly with Gabe's babies despite the noise, so that I may stay the night and be designated driver for Mike and my mom. Otherwise, I'm looking at a lonely New Year's Eve with the cats. We will see.

Beyond Boxing Day

We spent most of the day washing our cars yesterday. Gavin refilled his little bucket over and over to help rinse the soap off. We vacuumed and dusted, then applied Santa's gift of Armor-al and RainEx. The cars look spiffy, and Gavin had a good time chasing the neighbor boys with his bucket.

In the evening, we packed up potluck food and went to the Boxing Day party at my aunt's coffee shop. Gavin enjoyed a big plate of pumpkin pie, the rest of us enjoyed roasted lamb, pomegranate, chicken salad, sushi, and rum-soaked figgy pudding. I even had a glass of scotch on the rocks, which I never do, and I remembered why. During the gift exchange, we scored a calendar of Scotland. Inspiration for Mike and I when considering our long-overdue honeymoon.

This morning I cringed when I stepped on the scale, and was surprised to see I had lost a pound. That makes 34 in all so far. It was a Christmas miracle, I think, considering the amount of chocolate I ate in 2 days.


Gavin puts glasses on his head to look like mama:



Gavin acts cool, practicing to be a teenager at the wheel:



Po is very impressed by Gavin's driving abilities:



Gavin helps daddy rinse the car:

Christmas 2004

For the first time since I was a little girl, I had dreams of full stockings and woke up every hour until morning. When Gavin yawned and stretched, I poked him until I saw his eyes pop open, and jumped out of bed. Stockings! Presents!

Gavin made happy noises about everything he pulled out of his stocking, pausing to appreciate his new crayons and coloring book before dumping his candy on the floor. I did the same. We tore into the presents, which were mostly for Gavin. I was really happy to get a complete set of Robotech DVDs and photo printer, Mike loved his new iPod, my mom was happy to get a stereo for her own iPod, and Gavin got enough train track to circle the living room twice. Books, movies, t-shirts, and more!

When breakfast time came, my mother made eggs Benedict. We plugged in my shiny new brushed-steel toaster. "Something smells like burning paper," I said a minute later. "Well, it's a new toaster," my mom said uncertainly, but she looked inside and yelped, then unplugged the toaster and pulled a flaming warranty card out with a pair of tongs. We have half a mind to sent it to the manufacturer as a statement about packing paper inside toasters.

Breakfast was perfect, and we spent the morning lying around fatly while Gavin made gourmet plastic meals with his new microwave, stove, and dish sets. He poured us all "tea" and we sipped politely. We took pictures when Gavin painted his face with wet M&Ms and pretended he was a pirate, dropped him into bed when he fell asleep standing up, and watched the latest Harry Potter movie until he woke up.

That evening, as Mike headed to work, we escaped hosting the holiday meal by visiting my aunt instead. The boys played with Chris' toys and the adults lit the pudding on fire with a dowse of rum. Gavin and I fell asleep together as soon as we returned home, sleeping like logs until morning. It was a great day.

The Christmas Spirit strikes again

Merry X-mas, indeed. A big thank-you goes out to the folks who left us this life-sized holiday message spray-painted on our car! A fitting symbol of the season. Ho ho ho. Assoles.
 

I have pulled on my new Christmas sweater and am prepared to spend one last day out shopping on Santa's behalf. We are hunting for foil-wrapped Chocolate Oranges.

Over the hills and through the rain

Fate is testing my driving abilities these days. The rain came down in buckets as I kissed my baby goodbye and ran to the car. Why I didn't think to bring an umbrella at that point, I don't know. I waded through rivers of runoff as I headed toward the most treacherous cliff-side road on the island. I made an excuse to stop at 7-11 on the way and buy a diet soda (another Pepsi? Am I nuts?) and kicked the tires to be sure I wouldn't fly off the mountain. Even with the stormy weather, I arrived a half hour early for my appointment at the library. I parked as close as I could and sat safely in the car, contemplating my next move. The radio was on, and I settled back to listen and think, realizing that I couldn't remember the last time I had just sat and listened to music. The last time may have been in college, 3 or 4 years ago. In the glove box there was a yellow emergency raincoat, but I decided to forego it, kind of like how the WWI pilots chose to forego parachutes because they weren't stylish enough. After all, how wet could I get?

The emergency entrance to the library ever since the flood is all the way around back. By the time I got to the front door, I was drenched. When I arrived around back, I was soaked to the skin and shivering. While I waited for one of the assistants to find the secretary, I searched for a dry patch of shirt to wipe my face. Finding none, I smeared the water around and pulled my hair into a bun to disguise it. It seemed to work. I filled out my paperwork and was pronounced officially hired, then cursed my way back through the rain to the car. I should have taken off the shirt and wrung it out when I got in the car, but instead I turned on the hot air and immediately steamed up all the windows. I hate driving in bad weather. Forget it, I'm never moving to the mainland.

Grades are in

Look at me, sitting pretty with a 4.0 gpa this semester. This pulls my cumulative average up above 3.0, and makes me wish I could go back to 2001 and kick my unclassified ass for doing a shitty job in that random class I took.

Today I drove over the mountain to fill out paperwork for my new job. As I drove through the Pali tunnels, a motorcycle tore around me and almost caused me to kill myself. My mother once saw an ad for motorcycle tours of the Big Island, complete with Road Captain. I contemplated the idea of Road Captains for the rest of the ride to the university.

I downed a Diet Pepsi and walked across the empty campus to the student service center, where I brandished my gpa and managed to get a job referral which would allow me to work at the library. My mother told me recently about a man who stopped to take a piss next to a highway and was struck by ball lightning, incinerating a path from his heel, up his leg, and hollowing out his body cavity. From her descriptions, Pepsi does the very same thing to her. And, as it happens, to me as well. It feels terrible. While waiting for my appointment and feeling jittery, I discovered that the women's room was closed for cleaning, and snuck into the men's room instead. I'm such a rebel.


Tomorrow I have yet another date with paperwork at the university, after which I will be trained and scheduled and, much later, paid. Sorry to leave my (three?) readers with fewer tales of Human Resources, but that is how it must be. It must!

Meaty meats.

Printing is tedious work. Samples must be given to the chiropractor to prove I am, in fact, illustrating his book. Mike went to his last practice of the year before his New Year's party, and he sat for half an hour quietly playing guitar in the living room. I get the feeling he thinks I don't like his music, he rarely does it in front of me, but I do like it. It reminds me of who he is, and of our college days when we laid around together doing our own things, me drawing and him strumming. I miss him sometimes.

Yesterday my mother, Gavin, and I went through Costco with hungry eyes, picking out our Christmas dinner. We settled on a huge package of thick, marbled rib eye steaks, and a pack of lamb shanks. We figure we can wing it with the veggies. I don't think I'll be doing my food tracking on Christmas, which is why I'm sitting here with a bag of grapes on my lap. Have to watch it if I want to break even this week. So far so good; less than a week until Christmas, and I've still lost 3 lbs this month. I mention this because today is Monday; the day I step on the scale and record my results. I love Mondays.

A trip to Kaaawa

As Gavin splashed happily in the sink, experimenting with soap and toothbrushes, my mother called to beg me for a favor. She had forgotten to bring a present for the staff party, and I needed to assemble something and deliver it up. I got a basket and stuffed it with packets of instant cider, chai, Christmas candy, and the McDonalds gift certificates Mike had won at his Christmas party. After a few pathetic attempts to wrap the basket, I tied a sagging bow around it and popped Gavin in the car for the ride.

The road to Kaaawa is dangerous on a good day; it's one of those winding country roads with two narrow lanes, no visibility, and a poor excuse for a shoulder. As Gavin drooped slowly into sleep, I turned up the music and watched the ocean waves against the rocks on the side of the road. The giant trees were covered with vines and fruits, and tiny yellow leaves showered the road, almost glittering in the sun. We passed the ranch, where a cowboy rode through the fields with his rope flying, and I enjoyed the smell of hay and manure as we rounded the bend. The mountains split open past the ranch, into a valley with tiny white birds flying in the mist. As we parked behind my mother's white bug and I pulled my limp baby from his seat, I regretted that I hadn't brought our suits, to take advantage of the beach on such a clear, warm day. Maybe I'll take him swimming this afternoon.

Gavin is up now, my mother has her gift, and I stopped by 7-11 to pick up musubi and drinks for lunch. It's time to drive home. My assignments are done, school is out, and I have nothing to do but enjoy the day.

Gavin turns 2

The little man turned 2 yesterday! For most of the day, the poor kid had to follow me around on errands. We drove up to Kaaawa to visit his grandma and help her decorate the cafeteria for the school play today. Gavin helped me paint the mural and apply sparkles, then joined us for a bag lunch of musubi, milk, and apples. My mother finished her final paper in the 11th hour, and we zoomed down to the university to deliver it in the nick of time. Gavin and I walked across campus, through the fallen leaves and past the gardens of cats, to deliver my library books at Sinclair (my future place of employment). On the way home, we picked up dinner.

We stuffed ourselves on Thai food in honor of the night I went into labor, Gavin ate sticky rice and made faces over the chicken curry, then we came out with the cake and he blew out his candles like a pro. He dug in with both hands before I could get it served. He liked the whole present thing, but was annoyed when I kept handing him things to unwrap, when I could clearly see he already had a toy to play with. The most popular gifts were the little pink doll houses. He enjoyed reading his new books before bed time (which I had to read "doh" - aka "again") and he got up first thing this morning asking to play with his toys and eat "pie". I can't believe my baby is 2 already! Just before bed, I laughed to Mike about how great Gavin was all day, and how nobody could accuse him of being in his "terrible twos". Right on cue, Gavin smacked me in the face. He was a bit confused when we burst out laughing. (In his defense, he knows he's only allowed to smack people on the butt, and sometimes he has trouble telling between my butt and my head. Doesn't say anything good about my looks, does it?)

 

The interview that wasn't

Last night I surprised myself by finishing up all 52 pages of my final papers, an entire day early.

Proudly bearing two manila envelopes stuffed with my homework, I gathered up the baby (as Mike unexpectedly was summoned to work) and drove to the university to tie up loose ends. We dropped off my envelopes in my professor's box, walked over to the student employment office to bargain with them over my eligibility to work for the library, and headed over for my informal second interview. On the way, Gavin and I hid behind a big surfer from a crazy man screaming at an invisible enemy ("She's FUCKING hot, I'm gonna FUCK YOU UP man, WHAT?? You fucker!"), and stopped for a Thai tapioca at the campus Bale cafe before arriving at the library and discovering my interviewer had called in sick. I left my contact information and headed back to the car. As we passed under the shade of a banyan tree, someone said, "Beautiful child you have there." I looked up, surprised, to see one of our resident homeless men smiling at me.
"You're doing the most important job in the world, you know, raising a beautiful healthy child."
"Thank you," I said.
"No, thank you," he said, saluting me. Made my day.

Pre-Holiday Joy

Gavin outdoes himself
A fever and a runny nose - not worth an emergency trip to the doctor, right? All the same, we took him to the doctor's office yesterday after hearing that my cousin has an ear infection, and the poor kid has a sore throat, two ear infections, and pink eye. Oh no. I don't know how he did it, but now all three of us adults are rubbing our eyes, a bit paranoid. The bright side is that we now have two kinds of antibiotics, and he will be feeling better for his birthday.

The End of the Year Letter
The mamas on my board have inspired me to write a hypothetical holiday letter, like the kind that gets xeroxed and inserted into Christmas cards from family members you don't really talk to. This is the letter that would be, if I had any interest in further alienating my in-laws.

2004 was an eventful year. It began with the good news that, after 7 years, Mike's family decided it was time they got to know me better. It has only been 11 months since that announcement, and I am sure the first questions about my interests are going to arrive at any time. 

After our desperate retreat from New York, we all got busy. My mother and I completed all the tests and paperwork to please the Human Resource Gods and get into grad school, Mike found himself the captain of a sinking ship in Aikahi, and Gavin began to snowball his vocabulary from "uh oh!" to "Mama, sit and kiss kitty!" Two shiny cars joined our family, and two old cars were dumped on whoever would take them. Our two aging cats gave up the fight and allowed two scabby strays to visit us. We have named them "Headlights" and "Sylvester". Headlights has recently earned the nickname "Tailpipes", because he farts a lot, and most of Sylvester's fur has grown back. Xebo, on the other hand, has started to bald, but he vomits less these days, or at the least neatly covers his mess with shoes, socks, etc. Hurcules has discovered that he can carefully use his claws to peel open our sleeping eyelids. Great.

Following a sad incident with some red plastic playground equipment, I have lost 15% of my body mass and posted an embarrassing number of progress pictures on the internet. Halfway through the semester, I realized that I was truly meant to be a librarian, just in time for a flood to tear through the library and destroy our school. Luckily, though, classes went on, and we successfully completed our courses, including another bronze class. 

Yes, it has been quite a year. Mike discovered the level of staff incompetency it takes to run a theater. Gavin learned how to run and climb, as well becoming the first baby I've met who can draw a heart, star, circle, square, and parallel lines before the age of 2. I haven't met many babies, but it seems good to me. My mother had a date, told off a potential admirer, was granted leave of absence for next year to pursue her degree full-time, and bought a VW beetle. As for me, I had an emotional year, being accepted into school, rediscovering my bony landmarks, thinking more about old friends, and finding myself suddenly employed.

What comes this next year? Mike is flying out to attend his brother's wedding (in my conspicuous absence). The adventures of my new job will unfold, with new friends and Tales from the Moldy Stacks. Gavin will be talking more and learning numbers and letters. And we will find ourselves pulling the mortgage and bills while my mother takes her sabbatical in the fall and tackles a full load of classes for the first time in 20 years. 

 
And so, friends and family, I hope your years were happy as well. Thanks to my paternal grandparents, who have been in touch ever since the arrival of their great-grandson, and who have shown pictures of Gavin to my father. I still hold hope that he might write to us some day. Thanks to my mother-in-law for the homemade pickles, which almost make me forgive what happened last Christmas. Salvo, I'm proud of you. Peter, well, you know how it is. Brooke, I love talking to you. Rose, I wish I knew where you are. My RMC mamas, you rock. Take care, everyone, don't forget to write.


-Holly

The Employed Librarian

It has happened - I got a job. Yes, the kind of job that requires work. Tonight, as I left my last class of the semester, my friend who works at the Library from Hell dragged me into her boss's office and landed me a job as a part-time library assistant. This means two things: I will graduate with a year and a half of library experience under my belt; and I can buy my own SuperGirl underwear without consulting Mike. It also means I will have fewer evenings and weekends with Gavin, but I remember my own mother working and taking classes when I was little, and it didn't damage me any. I think.

Sick again

Last night, as I wrapped up my homework, I realized Gavin was crying upstairs. I ran to find his little body burning with fever, his nose completely stuffed up. I carried him downstairs, wiping his tears and nose, and cuddled up by the light of the Christmas tree in front of a cozy movie with him until he had calmed down enough to breathe effectively. Several hours later, in bed, he panicked again, unable to breathe. Mike had climbed into bed only moments earlier, home from work late. We dosed the boy with cold medicine and I rocked him to sleep, running my fingers through his hair and feeling his hand stroke softly at my arm as his eyes dropped closed. I remember the feeling of relief and safety, sick in my mother's arms as a child, and it's a warm feeling to know I can give the same to Gavin.

My mother, piggybacking on my diet in the same way she piggybacked on my pregnancy weight gain, has lost 30 lbs and (coincidentally?) finds herself this morning on a brunch date with a fellow she's quietly had a crush on for years. A fellow with a motorcycle, direct gaze, and reckless sense of humor. I hope she has better luck with him.

Day 4...

... and still sick. Gavin feels that my prone position on the couch is invitation to use my stomach for a trampoline. In my haggard, croaking state, I have put off all homework in favor of some trashy novel reading. Some books strike chords in you. The Color Purple struck so many that I was humming for two years. This book only made one of my chords twang briefly - with this sentence near the end:

"Even when I'm on my guard, being watchful, he can piss me off, turn me on, make me question my judgement, and, in general, provoke inconvenient emotions."
 

Yep.

At any rate, I still must put my runny nose to the computer screen and finish my cataloging homework before class tomorrow.

The night before last, I barked directions from the couch while Mike and my mother decorated the tree. Gavin took the role of Official Ornament Distributor, selecting ornaments from the boxes and deciding who got to hang what, and doing a surprisingly good job. Yesterday, despite my spinning head, I spent the better part of the day shopping with my mom and eating Chinese food. I had a skirt to buy for my interview this week, as all my other skirts fall to the floor when I button them up. My mom and Mike cheered when I put on my outfit, "You look sexy!" Not what I was going for with an interview as a reference librarian. I stripped off the shirt and rummaged through the closet for something more conservative. All the same, it was nice to hear. Now I am doped up on DayQuil and enjoying the scent of our new pine wreathe, daydreaming a bit and letting Gavin slide down the stairs on the lid to the hamper. Despite the weakness in my chest and pounding in my head, I am pretty happy. I love Christmas.

The first cold of the season

On Wednesday evening, we all climbed into the Bug and drove to dancing. Gavin and I walked down to the health food store to look for Christmas tea, and left with a complimentary vegan brownie because the baker had taken pity on Gavin, who was plastered against the pastry display. Mike spent the rest of the evening wrestling with the chocolate-smeared child while I got in a few dances. Gavin learned how to roll his socks in a ball and lob them at people. Fun was had by all.

In the morning, I was sick and wheezing. And with two classes in the evening ahead of me. I rented a movie and crashed on the couch as much as I could with an active toddler, but when the time came, I got my homework together and headed off to learn about reference and to patina my bronze sculpture. That night, shaking with exhaustion, I just couldn't sleep, and layed in bed and waited for dawn. My throat swelled up and my chest deflated. Alone with Gavin again, I sat down this morning to type up a cover letter and tweak my resume for an internship position at the university - and I've run out of paper and ink. I will have to drag my pathetic self to the mall and spend too much money on another cartridge and nice paper. I think I will bring the Mega Stroller to restrain the boy, because if I have to dig him out of any clothes racks today, my head will explode.

If I land this (paid) internship, I will jump for joy. Besides the valuable job experience, I would have spending money! I could pay for all our groceries myself, without relying on Mike for everything. I could buy my own dress this opera season without worrying about hitting Mike's pocket. Trying not to hope too much, I have bad luck with these things, but fingers crossed.