Joy

Do me a solid and love life. Please.

I know I do.

And so does this elephant :)

What we've been up to (plus: RIP Lena Horne)

We're not doing very well keeping up this family blog! We'll see if we can get our act together and come up with a little schedule. Part of the problem has been the end of the semester, which has consumed all my time, and the girls' years are ramping up for the grand finale as well.

Everyone's had a lot going on. Last week we celebrated the publication of The Cambridge Companion to the Literature of New York with a release party at Bowery Poetry Club. Anna performed with her band at her school's Battle of the Bands. Molly has a play coming up this week in which she plays one of the leads. Stephanie and Charlie have started swimming lessons along with their twice weekly yoga classes. No wonder we all feel exhausted!

I was originally logging on to note the passing of Lena Horne. What an amazing performer! And what a terrific life, all 92 years of it. I posted three of my favorite songs by her over at PWHNY. If you only listen to one of them, have it be her performance with Grover from 1973, below. But they're all good!

Hi friends

We've been crazy busy the last month or so, from a trip to Albuquerque for me and Steph and Charlie, to two weeks of visitors, to a trip to DC for a medical study at the NIH. Somehow we still had to work through all that.

But we're still here! Maybe we'll get back into the posting groove. We have a lot saved up.

This morning I was watching Sesame Street clips with Charlie and he totally dug this one. Every time Bob sang "Hi, friend" Charlie would wave at the computer screen.

Grown up jobs

This is just plain great from the start, but 40 seconds in, with the lady driving the bulldozer, it really hits a higher level of awesomeness.

Cutie Patootie

Oh the relief . . .

Oh the relief . . .

Once upon a time there was a girl named Molly Waterman. She had done a small admissions process to get into Middle School, which went quickly and easily. Now Molly is almost done with Middle School, graduating Eighth grade. But before she can do that she had to start off in October to prepare for her High School admissions. High School was more complicated than Middle School, there were thousands of choices, 5 boroughs, so many types of schools, but they could only be narrowed down to 12. Throughout many tours and words from other people, Molly narrowed her choices down to 8 schools, and the additional specialized school for the arts. Molly spent many hours practicing and preparing for interviews, auditions for drama and art, and waiting. She waited outside auditoriums, classrooms, and studios. She waited. She twiddled her thumbs and went over her lines and remember everything she had learned about acing an audition. When she was finally done with her admissions process, done with the auditions, she was not done with the waiting. She had to wait until February to find out her school, the one school that she had to go to. As she waited, she pushed these things into the back of her mind. She lazed around, did schoolwork, and relaxed. When it came to the day, February 4th, everyone who applied to a specialized and got in, were to get their letters. But no, she didn't get one. She did not get the special letter. But neither did anyone. The principal of the school decided at last minute to mail them. Everyone was furious, and parents couldn't take it. They texted their kids in class and told them the news. Kids were crying of joy, and some of sadness, everything that the school tried to get rid of, but only made it worse. After discussion with her mom, Molly was going to get her letter after school and open it to find out the news. Molly's parents arrived with the letter and she went to the nearest park bench. She struggled as she tried to open it, the glue on the envelope being strong. She finally opened it and looked at the letter. "She has a smile on her face!" Safyiah said. "What is it?" Jasmen said. "LaGuardia and Beacon!" Once these words passed out of Molly's mouth a huge rush of friends ran over to the next person to have received the letter and gave hugs and congratulations. Molly had until about the end of the month to decide what to choose. Molly subconsciously put this back in the corner of her mind and continued on until the month started to end, until the time had come. After open houses and packets and lots of thinking, Molly and her parents sat down at the local Pinkberry. Molly talked as she ate through a chocolate Pinkberry with as many cereals as she could fit on it. She talked about the two schools, her current school, her past school, her sister, her three years at her school and how she developed as a person, an artist, a writer, an actress, and a dancer, and many more things. She thought about what it would be like to go to the "Fame" school. To be accepted to LaGuardia is an honor by itself. And Beacon is a school where if you wanted to do something, there is a high chance you could do it. And the academics were solid and innovative. Both schools were in her opinion, excellent. But which to choose? She sat and wondered, and talked. She talked for 90 minutes until they had to leave and she still hadn't decided. Her parents were confused and didn't know what school she really thought was the one. Molly got home and watched American Idol, still keeping as far away from a decision as possible. Once the show ended, the parents had quit trying to get an answer. They sat and did their own thing, leaving Molly to think. She thought about which school to choose, which is better in the long run, and would be enjoyable to go to. She sat and thought again and again. Thinking over every aspect, wondering about what if . . . She made her decision. She got her acceptance letter. She unfolded it. She read it over to know that to do. She let it sink in. She grabbed a pencil. and Molly bubbled in the circle. The circle sitting right next to the words: Beacon High School. She had done it. She thought this through about 1,000,000 times more. She knew this was right. She handed the letter to her dad, he congratulated her and Molly gave it to her sister, and her mom, and whispered it to her sleeping brother. She had made the decision. She was done. Oh the relief . . .

THE END

P.S. I have one more thing to say. I am Molly, and this is my story.

A friend sent me this image

I thought some of you would like it. It was, apparently, found on a website that archives old Boston postcards. There's still a Waterman Funeral company there -- we used to pass it all the time and people would ask if we were related.