Category Archives: Family

And the food…

Little Princess and Brave Eagle.

When Uncles are left to babysit, Happy Meal boxes end up on heads, pajamas get put on at noon, and Barbies get gleefully beheaded. As a kid, I only got to play with Barbie dolls when I went over to Suzie’s house to visit – and I loved it, but not enough to request a Barbie of my own. (There were lines even I knew not to cross at such a young age.)

There are, happily, less stringent gender roles today, so both niece and nephew are free to dissemble dolls and action characters with equal relish. Warning: what you are about to see is, at times, brutal. Graphic depictions of Barbie beheadings will follow. Proceed with caution. (And add it to the NSFW status some folks seem hell-bent on assigning to this website.)

Maybe I got the crowns wrong – it wasn’t Burger king, after all – but I did my best. And Andy was there too, but said nothing, so how was I to know? More fun with the  twins coming up when I get a chance to download some photos. They’re more than a hoot and half!

Today Andy and I are watching the twins for a bit, which we’re excited about since we rarely get asked. And since Andy will be with me, I don’t have to be the strict Uncle who makes sure they don’t write on the walls with permanent marker or hide the remote from Lolo. Instead, I get to be one of the kids again, romping around and wreaking havoc with the best (and worst) of them. I can’t wait!

Last week we celebrated a joint birthday (mine and my Dad’s) with a lobster and steak dinner at my parents’ house in Amsterdam, NY. It was the house in which I grew up, largely remaining the same (with some new questionable additions, such as a backyard pond, which, had I asked for one a few years ago, would have gotten me laughed or yelled at). But times change, and there are two new faces being raised there, as seen here.

Noah was simultaneously captivated and slightly apprehensive about the lobsters, but he was braver than me in the end, petting their rubber-band-bound claws before they hit the boiling water.

Emi was quite content to pose for a few photos, and introduce me to some of her stuffed animal friends. That’s much more my style.

When my brother and I were little, we used to sneak away mid-dinner-meal, sliding slowly down beneath the dining room table, unnoticed (or so we foolishly thought), and then hanging out surreptitiously until dessert was served. The twins tried to do the same thing. Apparently, it’s not so unnoticed.

It’s amazing how history repeats itself. We are rarely the first, or the last.

Since it went live in 2003, this website has always gone dark on September 11, in honor of what happened in 2001. But aside from being a sad day of remembrance, it also happens to be my Dad’s birthday, so he always gets short-changed when it comes to a birthday post. As is tradition, here it is, one day late.

If I am in any way noble or concerned about the well-being and welfare of my fellow human beings, it comes in large part from my Dad and his example. He’s one of those old-fashioned doctors who got into the medical field to actually help other people more than anything else. It was there in his willingness to take calls at all times of the night, to forego family vacations to work more, and to help out any neighbor who needed medical assistance in an emergency. He taught me the value of working hard, of respecting others, of protecting and providing for family. That’s not something you can do just by telling your children to behave or to be good – you have to lead that life. I’m thankful that I had such a good example. I love you, Dad. Happy birthday.

When we were kids, my brother and I used to go to Sammy Fariello’s to get ice cream, baseball cards, candy, and soda. We’d either walk or ride our bikes the few blocks it took to get there, and leave them outside on the sidewalk while we perused the antique shelves for pop rocks or root beer hard candies. It was a different time then. Now I don’t think kids are allowed to walk so far on their own.

The last time I was in town, my brother and I took his kids to Fariello’s, still somehow running all these years later, for milkshakes and sundaes. It’s the site of this holiday tradition, and always brings back happy memories. Noah and Emi are now carrying on one of the few Ilagan traditions, whether they know it or not.

Everyone loves a milkshake!

Let’s do it all over again next year.

We had the family over for the 4th of July, and the sun and high temps conspired to put everyone in the pool – and the twins couldn’t have been happier about that. They still need their swimmies, but they’ve started to jump, and Noah even does a little flip (if you follow me on Instagram you’d have seen the video of that…) so swimming with them is always fun now. It also tires them out, which I’ve come to realize is the number one goal in raising children.

My Mom brought the twins over for a Sunday afternoon cookout by the pool. They rode the inflatable lounger and dodged alligators and mermaids. They watched the baby robins from a safe distance and ate fresh pineapple. They went on a garden tour and remembered the name of the dogwood tree. In all, it was a perfect day by the pool.

A couple of weeks ago we had my niece and nephew over for a pool visit. They’ve come a long way as far as their swim skills go, and with a couple of swimmies on their arms they’re unstoppable (I have it on good authority that ‘swimmies’ is the proper name for those flotation devices). Thinking their aquatic exertions would allow for a nap at 5:30, their Dad let them sleep for an hour or so (against my judgment, but I don’t have kids of my own so it’s not my place to criticize). The fact that the kids were up until midnight made any criticism self-evident and unnecessary anyway.

That was the question I was asking myself as I entered the Palace Theatre surrounded by what at first glance appeared to be dozens of munchkins. It turns out they were just kids, like my niece and nephew – the only reasons I was attending a live performance of the ‘Super Why’ PBS show. Friends had advised against it (“They don’t serve wine at kids’ events, you know”), but I didn’t heed the warnings. “What are they going to be doing?” I asked defiantly, “Changing the kids on the floor?!”

I walked in to the theater to find someone in the corner, changing their kid on the floor.

Another friend had said that I should be prepared to engage and possibly dance with some of the performers. When I said that one look from me would be enough for them to know not to engage, they laughed and said that it wouldn’t dissuade anyone. “Would me screaming the word ‘cunt’ at the top of my lungs work?” Yeah, I thought as much. Fortunately for me, and the kids, it never came to that.

The show itself was impressive enough for Noah and Emi, who stood for most of it, excited to see their favorite characters come to life on stage. They actually behaved as well as anyone else there (and, compared with the screeching, crying thing behind me, often better). There were the minor annoyances that attend all children’s events (they did not take kindly to sharing soda)  – and I swear that someone (not my niece or nephew) peed on my leg like a dog, but all in all it was a good time.

(And for those concerned that I was left alone with these kids, my Mom was present to see that things progressed safely and without incident. I never even had to make an emergency martini stop at McGeary’s that formed the back-up plan should the heat from the large number of kids get to be too much.)