Generation Gap

Last week I went home to Oklahoma to visit my family, and meet my new niece Lilly. You should know that Lilly is the first grandchild on either side of my family. She is the first baby since my youngest sister Sarah, who just turned 21.

In the days leading up to my trip, I kept wondering how I would react when I finally got to see the real, live, breathing and vomiting little baby Lilly. I wondered if I would cry. Or maybe begin to crave a baby of my own. Neither of those things happened. Rather, the first words out of my mouth were, “Holy s%!# Carrie, you’re a mom!”



My little sister is a mom.



My dad is a grandpa.

Seriously?

Most of the time, it feels completely normal that this has all happened. Carrie is 24, she and Steve got married last year. My dad is in his fifties, has glasses and grey hair like all the other grandpas. It all fits. I’m in my late 20’s. Of course my sisters are getting married and starting families. 'Tis the season, if you will.

But here’s the thing: none of this looks like I pictured it. In my mind, the adults in my childhood were “older.” Not in a biological sense, but in a “because I said so and I’m in charge” kind of way. I remember my idea of my parents, my aunts and uncles, in their then-fabulous-now-ridiculous 80’s glasses, driving their sweet maroon-striped mini-vans. They had it all figured out. I couldn’t wait to be an adult. I would be able to do whatever I wanted, receive mail addressed to me every day, and know how to make Strawberry Shortcake themed with pink frosting birthday cakes. I was always in such a rush to grow up.

And now I’m here, clicking back through my digital library of the photos I’ve collected of my brand new niece. These photos are the beginning of the next generation’s childhood memories. And THAT is the part that gets really heavy. I just don’t feel like the “adult” that I thought I would be, that I saw in my parents and aunts and uncles through my 6-year-old eyes. I am still that 6-year-old.

I feel like we (as in me, my husband, my sisters, my friends) are still fumbling along in our lives. Sure, we are getting married, building careers, having children. But we are taking one step at a time, groping through the dark without a flashlight. It scares me a bit that we’re the ones now “in charge.” If our parents in fact had a how-to manual, as it appeared back in the day, it got lost in the move. We are making it up as we go.

We are not the ever-perfect supermen that I saw my parents to be. Sure, there comes a time when every child begins to see their parents as real people with real imperfections. But in your early years, didn’t you think, didn’t you trust?! that your parental figures had this amazing grand plan for your day, your week, your life? They knew everything, could fix anything, and were the ultimate decision-makers of your universe. The reality (that I didn’t get until now) is, they were living the same 20-something life as I am, as my sister is, that is unpredictable, messy, and complicated. It’s not perfect. We hang on by our fingernails and make the best decisions we can. And apparently, put on a great front as the ultimate decision-makers of the next generation’s universe.

I guess my point is this: things aren’t always how you think they will be. The picture in your mind is just that, a romanticized expectation.



Maybe I just need a change in perspective. Outrageous 80’s glasses are back in style, after all.

Cox and Johnson

A law firm? Nope. A classic “adult film”? Perhaps. The perfectly-paired, yet totally-coincidental surnames of my mom’s sweet little girls? That’s the one.

Congratulations to my little sister Lauren and her now fiancé Mr. Erik Johnson! My family had the pleasure of not only being present at the proposal, but in on the whole secret plan. The gathering was disguised as Erik’s birthday, and hidden inside the biggest present was the ring box. Lauren was totally blindsided. I have it all on video, but my husband somehow taped the whole thing sideways. Once I figure out how to fix that little technical issue I’ll let you know. In the meantime, you can enjoy a few snapshots of the soon to be Mr. and Mrs. Johnson.

Awww!

My family is thrilled. We love Erik, and my sister deserves all of her happiness. Plus, the bonus is, on July 4th, 2009 (their set wedding date) my sister and I will be Cox and Johnson. Not Baker and Cook, Woods and Forest, Berger and King. Christina Cox and Lauren Johnson. What are the chances???

I heart Rain Boots (and Target.com)!

When it comes to fashion, I like color. A lot. I like patterns and texture. I like bold pieces that hinge toward ugly. Baby-puke yellow? Love it. Feathered accessories? Fabulous. Lime green anything? Especially if it’s paired with hounds tooth. I guess you could say my style swings a little to the left.

Enter the rain boot. Rubber. Bright. Obnoxiously patterned. Perfect!

After seeing this synthetic-breed of boot sloshing through a rainy SoHo last fall, it shot to the top of the must-have list. How did I not already own this fabulous footwear? I canvassed Denver, but my efforts proved fruitless short of a few random spottings here and there, and those displays were intended for children. Because really, what woman of nearly 30 would wear polka-dotted galoshes?

Um, this one.

With spring and summer came warm weather, chasing thoughts of stifling, knee high rubber boots far away. But in the cooling days of September, they are back. During a recent lunch with my girlfriend Danielle, the subject came up, as all most-important, discussion-worthy topics do, and she casually mentioned Target.com.

Freakin’ jackpot, people!

Since my giddy excitement over the mere 76 options has worn off, I’m left in rain boot overload. Here are some of my favorites: (not to be confused with the most ridiculous Target.com has to offer…)

There is the more subtle, classy option:

Noteworthy plaids (a must-have for this season!):

Fabulous prints:

A little slice of organic:

The “Audacity of Hope” model:

And some sweet graphics as well:

How is a bold-color-loving, pattern-and-texture-adoring, almost-ugly-piece-preferring girl supposed to choose?

Is it over the top to have 5 pairs of rain boots?

Eeny-meeny-miny-moe…

Work in Progress

Today is Monday. Upon my great high at the SCBWI LA conference, I swore I would treat writing more like a job, even though I already have two other jobs. No more, “I’ll write when I have time.” Let’s be honest- that just didn’t happen. No. My new job as a writer must have a schedule, like any other job. That schedule is Mondays 12-4. It’s a start. It must be a time when “I’m working,” and nothing else can be scheduled, or done, or cleaned, or organized. So there.

It’s Monday, 1:16 pm. I’m working. It feels awesome!

Home sick

I'm dog sitting for my parents right now. Here's how our days usually go:

CC: Hey, Boomer. How's it goin'?

Boomer: Good, thanks. Um, when are my parents coming back?

CC: A couple more days, don't worry.

Boomer: Ok, thanks. Can I have a chewy?

CC: Not right now, you just had one. Why don't you go out to play?

Boomer: Yea, ok... Um, when are my parents coming back?

CC: Aww, I'm sorry Boom, are you not having fun here?

Boomer: No, no, I'm having a blast! You guys are great. You're really good at the petting and all that. A little stingy on the chewies, and you're a little lame about me sitting on your lap... but you know... um, I just really like my parents. Are they coming today?

Iris: Yea Mom, when is he leaving?

CC: Oh, Iris, be nice!

Iris: Mpf...

Fred: Whatever. Could you guys keep it down? And forget about asking me to share my blanket.

Boomer: Hey, um... hi, are my parents coming soon?