Bobby is 6

My first born is six. This age is significant for me because it’s the first of my real, detailed memories, so I can only guess that his memories have now begun, too. I think about how my tumultuous childhood was just starting around this age - my newly divorced mother repeatedly moving us from town to town, causing me to attend five different schools before fifth grade; my father vanishing to Brazil and only reappearing once when I was eight. I look at Bobby’s life - same comfortable home, a little brother, a mother with him all the time, even a benign father figure now a part of the picture - and can’t help but pat myself on the back a bit. At least up until now, Bobby has had a good, secure, happy life. Now to just keep that up for twelve more years!

Bobby at six is smart, funny, emotional, sweet and sarcastic. I posited to my mom’s group: “are all six-year-olds smart alecks?” and the answer was a resounding YES. So apparently a certain amount of snark is par for the course at this age. Not a huge fan, but I’m oddly gratified that at least he’s developmentally on track! 

After a whirlwind visit, my sister left for NY today. It will be the last time she visits from New York. This week she and her husband put their South Bronx apartment on the market and leave the northeast forever for sunnier climes in Florida. Which leaves me with one living relative left in Massachusetts, my cousin. It’s odd to think that hundreds of years of our gene pool in and around the tri-state area comes to an end now, with everyone either dying off or leaving for warmer temperatures in the south or west. Other than the odd band gig, I wonder if I’ll ever have cause to visit New York again. 

The boys’ crazy bounce house emporium birthday party went well - although as usual tons of people never read the invitation, rsvp’d no at the last minute, or canceled the morning of, it was still packed between my dance friends (who mostly average 2-4 kids), Bobby’s school friends (all boys and two brave girls), and a lone Theo preschool friend. I’m torn about the combined birthday party idea going forward. What may be the best plan as of next year is to have Bobby do an activity with a few select friends and then do a big party for both kids combining everyone. I would just hate to have one kid get screwed because everyone went to one party and not the other. But Bobby is sounding like he wants to do his own thing. I will have to think on it.

With my sister and a close friend paying off their homes, closing up their businesses and planning for the final (or penultimate) act of their lives, it makes me think about these things, too. I’ve already had this in mind, as I’ve written here. In a bit more than a decade, these children will be on their own. My sister’s husband is already 65; my boyfriend is 50 and was a lifetime heavy smoker. We hope they live forever, but odds are we will find ourselves single again at some point in the next 20 years. What then? My sister already plans to move here to California; I still dream of the plot of land with a few tiny homes containing my favorite people, she of course being number one on the list.

For years in the 80s my sister and I lived together in tiny studio apartments in the east village. Is it possible our lives will end as they began, just the two of us sharing a space (of sorts)? I have to admit, I find the symmetry of that highly appealing. 

Easter, birthdays and kitchens

I’m preparing for a bit of a marathon coming up. We have one more week of school, then a week off (I’ve decided to put my big girl pants on and not book a “spring camp” for Bobby and instead keep him home all week...I may come to regret this decision...), sister comes to visit, the boys’ big dual birthday party on the 24th, and then Easter the weekend after. 

I’m glad I kept the boys’ party for them both and didn’t rely on Bobby’s kindergarten friends to fill out his party; only six kids are coming out of his 25 kid class. Now that I know what the returns are on these whole-class invites, it will help me to plan in future years. It will be a big party between Theo’s preschool friends, Bobby’s friends, and all our dance friends. I only just this week got a chance to sit down and do some party planning/designing; it makes me sad when I think of how much time and effort I used to be able to devote to their parties in past years. I think it goes to show how, despite technically having more hours in the day to myself these days, my days are so full and my brain so crowded with complex, emotional “older kid” stuff, that extras like party planning end up lost in the shuffle. I do the best I can, but yeah...some things just don’t get the attention they used to. 

In other news, I’ve decided to forge ahead with my kitchen remodel, whether I can technically afford it or not. A little creative debt management and I should be able to do it without depriving myself of much needed cash in the bank (read: use of lines of credit). I also finally developed a concept for the room. As much as I was tempted to break down walls and go modern, I’ve decided to go the exact opposite route and go WAY back...to the 1920s. I live in a 1906 house, and the 20s was the first time kitchens began to resemble modern ones, with the advent of gas stoves, built in cabinets, and sinks similar to ones in use today. So I think the 20s is a good decade to focus on that would meld seamlessly with the rest of the house while still being functional. I’ve come to realize that the kitchen is my command station - it is my favorite room in the house - and I want it to be my private, pretty, functional space. So rather than opening it up to the rest of the house I may very well close it off even more by getting a swinging door for the doorway that’s currently open. 

I’ve been researching vintage stoves and am planning on getting one like this (technically 1930s, but who’s counting?) and having it reconditioned by local antique stove experts (I went to their shop and they said there’s no problem modernizing these stoves on the inside and making them safe and easy to use). It will serve as my design muse for the rest of the space as well. So - new kitchen, here we go! 

Theo is 4

Today, my youngest turns four. On his birthday, I always run over the details of his birth - how I drove to the hospital alone late at night, leaving my sister home with almost two-year-old Bobby; how I almost got sent home as being “not in labor” but thankfully labor kicked in enough to allow me to stay, the agony of it all and me clamping my eyes shut and begging for it to be over, my doula saying, “open your eyes, your baby is being born!” and seeing little Theo emerge, cranky and dark haired and so different from his brother. 

Those were such different times. We are officially out of babyland - and that all feels like a thousand years ago. If not for this blog I doubt I would retain any of it; the breastfeeding woes, the house vibrating with new life energy with a new baby in it, Bobby peering over his car seat to check out this new little person that had joined our lives.

Now, I have a new four-year-old and a kindergartener. I would say the time has flown by, but it doesn’t feel like that to me. It has felt like four years. I think that’s fair.

Theo is easy going, funny, a good sharer, a true cuddle bug. How much of his personality is informed by being the baby of the family and my being a second time mother will remain a mystery - but personally I think both of those things are huge. Theo has one year and two and a half more months of his preschool life and then I am officially a school ager mother. But for now I can still say, Happy birthday, baby boy!