Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Monday, September 28, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
Fun with chemicals
During Tyoma's nap today, Mom helped me color my hair. It's less of an ordeal than when I do it myself . How sweet to have a loved one part your hair into tiny sections and squeeze thin strips of bleach and dye onto it! I remembered the old days when Mom would color and occasionally perm my hair. One year we got a bad batch of perm so the last six inches of my hair was fried. The post-haircut result was actually pretty cool. I had a totally bitchin' lion's mane for about four months. Another time a new brand of "ash blonde" it turned green. I soaked my hair in castor oil for three hours to soak the color out. Worked great, smelled foul. Anyway, Mom's meticulous nature is reflected in her hair coloring practices. When Fontessa does my hair she whizzes through like a frenetic chef demonstrating Ginsu knives at two a.m. She's an artist, working quickly, you have to have mad skils to be a silk painter for the Bolshoi Theater. Mom is an engineer, thoroughly inspecting sections for exact haircolor application, taking temperature, altitude and wind speed into consideration. Since I will be doing Mom's hair over the weekend, I wonder where I fit on the continuum. Heh. I already know. I'd best go calibrate my altimeters and anemometers!!
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Seaside Escapade
Today Mom, Tyoma and I took off for a little seaside excursion. We left at 9:15 this morning despite the overcast and slightly windy weather. Mom sat in the back seat with Tyoma, entertaining him with travel toys, noises and general silliness.
Mom also entertained me on the drive to Hampton Beach, since she knew the name of all the trees, shrubs, flowers and foliage that we passed on the roadway. I know nothing about local flora except that some trees are oaks and others are pine trees. In fact, I only recently made the connection between acorns and oaks. Duh.
Anyway, Tyoma spent the last bit of our drive gasping dramatically, saying “Ooooooohh!” and “O-cye!” pointing out the window to the sea. His little eyes glowed! We arrived first at Hampton Beach, which was relatively deserted, except for a few senior citizens milling about and a smattering of skinny joggers. The season is over.
We didn't park because I forgot to bring $40 in quarters for the meters so we could spend a half an hour on the beach. We left then for our ultimate destination, Wallace Beach, which was also closed for the season. Actually, the beach and parking lots are still accessible, but the facilities were all locked up tight. This solitude was fortunate, since Tyoma behaved like a little maniac.
He obviously loves the ocean, but the size and newness of it blew the little circuits in his head. He pitched fit after fit, screaming and crying when I made him hold my hand. He wanted to go, go, go! The weather was too blustery for a walk in the waves, so I struggled with him as he tried to drag me into the surf. It was frustrating.
After fifteen minutes of exertion, we packed up and made our way back to the SUV. Poor Tyoma looked so tragic, clutching onto his baa and sucking frantically on his souska as I wheeled him to the car. We visited another recreation area by the sea with a modest grassy park. A small group of mothers and a few toddlers Tyoma’s size were picnicking over to one side.
I said a silent prayer and set Tyoma free. To his credit, he did relatively well until he caught sight of the waves at a corner of the park. Another tussle ensued, this time with me trying to prevent him from scaling the boulders and rocks that blocked him from the sea. More screams and crying, this time accompanied by the stares of everyone else at the park.
I wasn’t quite mortified, but indeed I was a trifle embarrassed. So much for our seaside adventure! We packed it up and decided to go out for lunch. Would Tyoma throw an unprecidented and alarming fit that would humiliate us in front of the restaurant staff?
No! He was a total sweetie who completely charmed the everyone. “Oh, what a cute little boy!” our waitress with the little-girl voice cooed. She fussed over him and he had the audacity to giggle as if to say, “See, I am a totally reasonable child. I just needed some love and understanding!” Sheesh!
The three of us had a super lunch. Mom and I ordered the mega plate of fried clams, with tartar sauce, fried potatoes, coleslaw and a tumbler of peanut oil to guarantee a caloric content of 10,000. Tyoma ate fried chicken, fruit, and French fries. Despite all the overstimulation today, he was a good little boy. In the pictures below, he is eating a lemon (loves them) slice.
Mom also entertained me on the drive to Hampton Beach, since she knew the name of all the trees, shrubs, flowers and foliage that we passed on the roadway. I know nothing about local flora except that some trees are oaks and others are pine trees. In fact, I only recently made the connection between acorns and oaks. Duh.
Anyway, Tyoma spent the last bit of our drive gasping dramatically, saying “Ooooooohh!” and “O-cye!” pointing out the window to the sea. His little eyes glowed! We arrived first at Hampton Beach, which was relatively deserted, except for a few senior citizens milling about and a smattering of skinny joggers. The season is over.
We didn't park because I forgot to bring $40 in quarters for the meters so we could spend a half an hour on the beach. We left then for our ultimate destination, Wallace Beach, which was also closed for the season. Actually, the beach and parking lots are still accessible, but the facilities were all locked up tight. This solitude was fortunate, since Tyoma behaved like a little maniac.
He obviously loves the ocean, but the size and newness of it blew the little circuits in his head. He pitched fit after fit, screaming and crying when I made him hold my hand. He wanted to go, go, go! The weather was too blustery for a walk in the waves, so I struggled with him as he tried to drag me into the surf. It was frustrating.
After fifteen minutes of exertion, we packed up and made our way back to the SUV. Poor Tyoma looked so tragic, clutching onto his baa and sucking frantically on his souska as I wheeled him to the car. We visited another recreation area by the sea with a modest grassy park. A small group of mothers and a few toddlers Tyoma’s size were picnicking over to one side.
I said a silent prayer and set Tyoma free. To his credit, he did relatively well until he caught sight of the waves at a corner of the park. Another tussle ensued, this time with me trying to prevent him from scaling the boulders and rocks that blocked him from the sea. More screams and crying, this time accompanied by the stares of everyone else at the park.
I wasn’t quite mortified, but indeed I was a trifle embarrassed. So much for our seaside adventure! We packed it up and decided to go out for lunch. Would Tyoma throw an unprecidented and alarming fit that would humiliate us in front of the restaurant staff?
No! He was a total sweetie who completely charmed the everyone. “Oh, what a cute little boy!” our waitress with the little-girl voice cooed. She fussed over him and he had the audacity to giggle as if to say, “See, I am a totally reasonable child. I just needed some love and understanding!” Sheesh!
The three of us had a super lunch. Mom and I ordered the mega plate of fried clams, with tartar sauce, fried potatoes, coleslaw and a tumbler of peanut oil to guarantee a caloric content of 10,000. Tyoma ate fried chicken, fruit, and French fries. Despite all the overstimulation today, he was a good little boy. In the pictures below, he is eating a lemon (loves them) slice.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Happy Mother's Day!
Then for a while she rebuilt auto and boat engines in our living room.
Thursday, April 6, 2006
mom
Mother warned me to never have children. Repeatedly.
When I welcomed by son into the world in 2006, Mom was one of my birthpartners. She held my left foot, wiped my forehead and fed the nursing staff and doctors gourmet snackfood.
When I welcomed by son into the world in 2006, Mom was one of my birthpartners. She held my left foot, wiped my forehead and fed the nursing staff and doctors gourmet snackfood.
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