Saturday, June 12, 2010


The party was wonderful. Lots of Jay's friends came, and our family was here, our friends.

i told them to pretend they were having fun. look how much fun they're having.

There was no rain, and no obnoxious heat. The evening was overcast and mild. The crowd ate, talked, played basketball, eventually wandered up to the park behind for a little football.

Some of the younger ones ventured upstairs where the Barbies and video games are. I could hear them laughing and hollering. They wanted to take their food upstairs, which is fine, as long as they bring back the dishes so we don't get mice.

I have few pictures because I was too busy doing other things, but it was a great night.


Jay and I were finally in bed during wee hours. Oh, my bed, my bed, my bed, most wonderful, beautiful bed. The last look at the clock was at 2:30 am.

It was hard to get up this morning. I had to work today for a few hours, function, communicate, make sense. I wanted to be quiet here, rest, put away dishes, but no. Perhaps quiet is overrated.

(This evening, as I shampooed Julia's hair she asked me what it said on the shampoo bottle. I told her Jhirmak. Before she tipped back in the water to rinse her giant halo of suds, she said if I have another baby, we could name the child Jhirmak, "Even though it's not a real name, and I wouldn't be the baby anymore."

Okay, I've drawn a line and am not birthing any more babies into this family, and conversations like this make me befuddled. It's someone else's turn to have a baby. Julia is saving a pair of fuchsia sandals with tiny silver stars for her future niece.)

Jay and James went to Sumi's celebration this afternoon, had a great time.

Here are a few thoughts on the principal of the school, a man we realized at the party, grew up with a friend of ours, friends since 4th grade. We had no idea. He said, "Yeah, he's a really good guy, was always a good guy. He just really cares. Somehow, he does."

That was interesting, hearing it from a guy who grew up in a family of eleven, someone who knew him as a child, as young person, a teenager.

Here's what I wrote last night:

"Cheesy or real?

The principal at the kids’ school is a big black man, a mountain of a man, with a deep, way deep voice. He’s serious about education and responsibility, accountability. Every morning he does announcements in his soft, rumbly voice, and at the end says, “Everybody get busy and have a great day. And remember: Mr. Walt-ah loves you.”

Tonight at graduation, he introduced the speakers and spoke to the kids. He said, “Go out into the world and do good. Make your family proud, your parents, and your grandparents, all the people who love you. And never forget…” there was a pause, and the kids hollered back,

“Mr. Walt-ah loves you.”

He nodded, “I do,” returned to his chair and sat down.

He commands a lot of respect around that school, but it doesn’t seem fearful. I asked Maria. This is her first year. She said he never yells, but sometimes he tells students, “I’m very disappointed. I thought you understood.”

Okay, those are lines from MY DAD’S playbook. Guilt. Sigh. Accountability.

Dang, apparently it works pretty well too." love, Val

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