Ruthie

When I play the two-truths-and-a-lie game, I usually tell people the following:
1. I have 5 stepsisters
2. I have a tattoo
3. I had at least 30 babysitters as a kid

I don't have a tattoo. I have had five stepsisters since age 15, when my mom remarried. And before that, my family quirk was that I had at least 30 different babysitters. Thirty is no uncommon number for single-parent families. My mom worked full time, often nights. That's how it works if you want to support your two kids, and own a little Ford Tempo that you have to get repaired every month, and pay rent, and pay for food, even with the help of food stamps and certain economical cookbooks. Amid the parade of babysitters, some were worse than others. Most were trustworthy. Some were so caught up in themselves, unsure of what to do with two youngsters who fought constantly, that they backed away. I might have, too. Shoot, we were an awful lot of work. My brother and I became pretty adept at being unimpressed with our babysitters. Until Ruthie.

She was a junior in high school and my mom was working daylight hours in the summer of 1994. The first conversation I remember having with Ruthie was about music. I was five years old, and she asked me what kind of music I liked to listen to. What a smart question for a five-year-old. I responded that I didn't like music, "it's all just old men singing together without instruments. It's so boring." My mom has always been a fan of a capella men's choirs. I guess she was listening to that a lot in those days.

"You don't like music because of that? Well, 50% of singers are women, you know. Maybe you just need to listen to more music." I was so impressed with her command of statistics, her ability to counter my conversation instead of leaving me to think something false.

She was special in lots of ways, but that conversation was the first one that I can remember where I felt that my opinion mattered. And if my opinion mattered, I was sort of a grown-up. And if I was sort of a grown-up, I could talk to other grown-ups. And if I could talk to grown-ups, then I could certainly talk to people my own age. A shoot of confidence began to grow in me, from this tiny seed, these small conversations that Ruthie couldn't have any reason to remember.

We walked everywhere. We went to the library, and to the pool. We went to her house and helped her mother in the kitchen, or played badminton in their postage-stamp backyard. She took a general hold over the chores of the house, and what was once so disorderly became livable, a safe and homey place. She was like Mrs. Doubtfire, except younger and cooler... and actually a woman, not just pretending.

One day while she was ironing, she looked out the window, and I noticed that she was cross-eyed. It had never occurred to me before. Then she burnt herself with the iron, exclaiming, "¡Dios bendiga a los niños!" And I learned that she also spoke Spanish, which she had learned from her former stepfather. Every fact about her fascinated me. I wanted to grow up to be just like her.

Ruthie made the summer good. She read The Little Princess out loud to me, then we watched the movie together. She helped Stephen and me get along by engaging us in meaningful discussions. We three sat around the kitchen table and talked about the Great Depression one day. I asked Ruthie why we needed money, why everyone couldn't just give each other what they needed? If we all agreed to it, it would work. She looked at me, and said that was one question she wouldn't answer.

For two summers, Ruthie was our all-in-all. Then she went to college. She still cared about us, still kept up with us. But way leads on to way. And geography is so important. She eventually got married and had a son. Then got divorced, I think.

How do I make this post all come together? Ruthie mattered. As I look back, I see so much of her in how I relate to others. I see a turning point in my life.

Here's to you, Ruthie.

I Rock Your Baby Son to Sleep

When you announced that you would be married instead of going to college, I felt giddy with joy. Not, mostly, for noble reasons: it was putting together a wedding at such a young age; I must have seen a hundred movies with weddings and flowers, and rings, and kisses. Part of me was sad, too: we had planned to be college roommates; we would have made friends and histories that entwined forever.

So what would our lives look like at this distance? Occasional visits, always something shared deep down: separating histories, but a wire that kept our hearts moving in the same direction. Praise God! I have not lost you, friend. And I have gained a whole family of friends because you chose so bravely:

--------

I rock your baby son to sleep
Slanted light from the hallway
A CD plays a lullaby
Mellow-sweet, a gentle moment.

Suddenly, a pang tells me
how blessed you are among women;
that even to endure a thousand
crying, up-and-down nights,
bottle-or-no-bottle nights,
is worth his trusting, sleepy heart,
his fingers twirling his cropped, blond hair.
He snuggles into my arm and my side.

If I remain single and childless,
tonight I felt I’d miss
half the stars in the sky.

Never one for greed, I hope,
I delight in seeing your faces as
the skies unfold new grandeur before you:
the word “dog,” learning to run,
then the rock-step, snapping fingers,
sharing toys with his new brother.

Possibilities for the Future

My niece, Aida, and I were playing this weekend. She's six. She decided we would play "Mommy's work." My sister-in-law helps people to find suitable jobs. So Aida brought down her kids' program computer, and sat at the coffee table in a folding pink princess chair. She began with some preliminary questions:

[We shake hands]

Aida: How can I help you?

Me: Uh, I need a job right away.

Aida: No problem. I can help you. What do you like?

Me: [in character] I like... to... put things together. And take things apart. And I like the color yellow.

Aida: [typing furiously on the computer] That's fine. Good. I have something for you: a construction worker!

Me: Perfect! But what about how I like the color yellow?

Aida: No problem. All the machines are yellow. I have some forms for you to fill out. [Draws four lines on a sheet of paper] Write your name, date you were born, place, and things you like.

Me: [struggling with "place"] Done.

Aida: Great! You start on Friday. Here's your schedule. [Hands over another piece of paper.] Do you need anything else?

Me: [hesitatingly] A house would be nice.

Aida: Sure. I can help you. [Writes out a "check" for $50 million.] Is that enough?

Me: Yes. I'm sure I can find something for that much. How do you get the money to give people for houses?

Aida: Work gives it to me, and I give some of it away to people.

By the end of our session, I had a huge house filled with a few other families, I had changed careers to become a novelist/baby sitter (her idea), and I had a husband named Tyler. And we were both parrots.

The End.

Babysitting a McKalips, by Stephen (Part III)

Contact Lists


--(NOTE: We do not have a land line, or "home phone," so it will be necessary to have a cellular phone and charger)

List A: Emergency
Fire, Flood, Loss of Life

#911

List B: Questions
Who, What, Where, When

...Meg
...Steve
...Staci
...Staci Cell

List C: Yellowbook
Food, Fun, What Have You

(Refer to Cabinet A in Fig. 1 Kitchen)

A: Random things, batteries, pens, screwdrivers, phonebooks, takeout menus, misc. medicines
B: Glasses, baking dishes, aluminum foil, plastic wrap
C: Coffee cups (random), measuring cups, random set of old dishes
D/E: Fiestaware (all dishes one might need)
F: Misc. spices, vinegar, oil, baking supplies, extra condiments
G: Snacks, crackers, cookies, poptarts, misc. junkfood, tea
H: Cereal
I: Pasta
*J*: Baby food, canned vegetables, canned soups, peanut butter
K: Broom & Swiffer
L: Toaster, crock pot, extra tissues, paper towels, pots and pans
*M: Pots and pans, *baby formula, blender, strainer
N: Forks, spoons, knives, utensils, pot holders, misc. cooking things
O: Chips, pretzels, misc. junk food
P: Tupperware, plastic food storage containers
Q/R: Swiffer pads, cleaning supplies, trash bags (white and black)
--Coffee filters can be located in drawer under coffee pot.
--Any questions pertaining to Figure 1 (Kitchen), consult Contact List B.

Babysitting a McKalips (Part II), by Stephen

I. Rest and Relaxation

--Rest and relaxation, also known as "R&R," is key to a person's morale and wellbeing.
There are many ways to rest and relax.
Many of them are legal in the United States.
--Television is a widely accepted way of relaxing.
703 Fairfield Avenue is equipped with a 42"-high definition TV with well over 250 channels.
There is also a modest library of books in the living room.
--Consuming moderate amounts of alcohol is also a widely used method of relaxing.
Drinking alcohol (wine, beer) to "excess" is generally frowned upon and carries a social stigma.
(NOTE: It is illegal to furnish alcohol to people under the age of 21.)
Keeping this in mind, there is a bottle of wine in the refrigerator not shown in Fig. 1 (Kitchen).

II. Rest and Relaxation

There are many ways of entertaining oneself on the internet.
The internet, or "worldwide web," is a network of computers.
It is regarded as the peak of human collective knowledge.
The pin for our computer is *****.
If you have any questions or comments concerning Rest and Relaxation, please refer to Contact List B.

Babysitting a McKalips, by Stephen

My mother once babysat my nephew over a weekend while Stephen and Megan went away. My brother, Stephen, handed my mom these instructions, which you also might find helpful when babysitting, as a general guide. They are extensive, so I shall give them in three parts.

I. Bottle/Nap Instructions


--6-7 oz. warm tap water
--2 scoops of formula
--every 3 1/2-5 hours

In the event that Holden cries/fusses after a bottle DO NOT GIVE HIM ANOTHER BOTTLE.
Instead attempt to "burp" him.
After five minutes if he is still hungry give him some baby food.
(Refer to J cabinet in Figure 1.)
Do not feed him baby food more than three times daily.
Do not give him more than one bottle in a 3 1/2 hour period, as it will cause unnecessary discomfort or vomiting.

II. Bottle/Nap Instructions Continued

To avoid prolonged fussiness ensure that Holden receives a 1 1/2-3 hour nap daily.
Be sure to give a pacifier or "binky" when administering nap.
Be sure to close door to the bedroom after turning off light.
(NOTE: Children often sleep better in dark, quiet rooms.)
In the event that Holden should wake up in less than 1 1/2 hours, (NOTE: You will be able to tell he is not asleep because of the loud screaming noise accompanied by shrieks emanating from his room) replace pacifier and leave room.

III. Bottle/Nap Instructions Continued

Holden enjoys warm, fuzzy blankets while napping.
The seafoam green one is his favorite.
Any questions pertaining to Bottle/Nap Instructions, consult Contact List B.

My Niece

Me: Aida, wanna hear some of my really-boring paper?

Aida: Sure.

Me: K. Just say "stop" when it gets too boring for you, alright?

Aida: I will.

Me: "Both Saul Bellow and Jack Kerouac are writing in the post World War II era--"

Aida: STOP. That was really boring.

____________________________________

Me: Aida, I have a question.

Aida: What?

Me: Is there a story about why your dad calls you "Pickle"?

Aida: Sure.

Me: Is it a secret story?

Aida: No. It's 'cause he loves me.

Helicopter Season

Jadyn and Luke climb up the ladder and bounce up and down on the trampoline. Jadyn shouts, "I didn't know it was already helicopter season!" "Helicopters!" they join. Luke's big eyes brighten with each bounce.

I hardly know what they are talking about as I try to extricate my ankle from the tiny jaws of the most annoying puggle the good Lord ever allowed man to create. The rat-thing has an uncouth fascination with anything below the knee. His sharp puppy teeth razor through most types of denim, dignity, and shoelaces.

Having distracted the varmint with something slimy and throwable, I finally make it to the trampoline. "Helicopter" seeds cover the jumping mat, freshly fallen from the trees. Helicopter season. We gather them up and throw them in the air and try to catch them with our hands, though our hair does a better job.

This is the first time I have babysat in five years. My favorite part is reading on the big couch with Jadyn and Luke, the youngest of the four children. We make it through The Ugly Duckling, and Why the Sun Was Late. Apparently, it is impossible to sink into the couch the whole way to China. Although, tigers may feed on pineapples, grass, zebras, Jadyns, and hippos.