The Po Show

Memorial Day Weekend

Busy, busy, busy. On Saturday we went to the nearest outlet mall, where I spent lots of time TRYING to shop while my children kvetched and whined. And in Tessa's case, laid on the floor, getting in people's way. Ross did get two Brooks Brothers suits for a really good price (since he's going to be a corporate schmo soon), and I got a couple pairs of badly needed shorts. And I got a kickass pair of Wichita Birkenstocks for 50 bucks! I've always wanted some, the ones that look like nice black leather shoes, but they're normally like $150.

On Sunday we drove out to the North Shore and had seafood at this really famous place (can't have lived in MA all this time and not had famous fried lobster and clams) and then went to the beach. It was beautiful, with brilliantly clear water and nice sand beaches. The water was FREEZING though, and the kids kept trying to get me to wade out with them. What they neglected to consider first was that when you go out into water, your clothes will get wet (it wasn't really bathing suit weather yet) and despite my constant reminders of this fact, they both got their shorts wet. Tessa wanted to strip on the beach, which I wouldn't let her do, and Matthew complained bitterly about sand in his shorts rubbing his skin.

On Monday we walked around Boston a bit, though Tessa either wanted to be carried (all 34 pounds of her!) or climbed every railing in sight, which made for slow progress. Matthew complained about being hungry the whole time (never thought I'd see the day where he'd complain about being hungry!).

Last night, as we folded laundry, I said to Ross, "It was such a nice weekend!" I said it without irony; I really meant that it had been so nice that we were all together and had gone out and done different things everyday. Then I laughed, because I'd spent the whole weekend in various stages of aggravation, listening to the kids bitch and bitching back at them myself. Sort of like childbirth, where you forget the bad parts and glow about the overall experience.

Memorial Day is always kind of hard for me, because my dad's birthday was May 30, so it was always around Memorial Day. In my family, we always went to the cemetery on MD, to visit all our dead relatives. When I was a child, it was all distant aunts and uncles of my mother, whom I'd never known. It's much more poignant to think about my dad, and my grandparents, and my aunts and uncles, who are all gone now. I take a virtual trip to the cemetery in my own mind, and say hi to all the gravemarkers, and think about the ones who used to be a part of my life but who are only aging memories now.

It makes me appreciate the real time, the now time, the time with the family I have now.