Welcome to Williamsburg. Here's your beret.

First off: my Dad thanks you for the prayers and good wishes. While I may be lacking in religiosity, or at least let’s say I don’t cotton to the church-going, my Dad is one holy bastard (and I’m sure he would be charmed by that turn of phrase) and appreciates very much all the praying. So if you have any more you feel like serving up, you go right ahead.

Okay, also? Apparently in addition to getting a Dacron stent inserted (what’s with the Dacron? Didn’t one of my commenters mention this? Can someone tell me why Dacron is the fabric of choice?), he’s also getting some pig valves. Pig valves. “Available only from Hormel,” as my Dad put it.

I don’t know what to say about that.

Last week I wrote an entry about a conversation with my family-in-law, in which the older members of said family quizzed Scott and me about what a “hipster” looks like, after I made some comment about the hip kids in Williamsburg. It was a funny entry. Oh, how it made me laugh. I was going to post it, to share the surreal joy with you. And then evil gnomes invaded my computer and destroyed the document because, well, didn’t I say they were evil?

What I can recall of their guesses as to what hip people wear:

1. Berets. (Or some other manner of “interesting hat.”)

2. Fringed and tie-dyed apparel. (“You mean hip like hippie?”)

3. Sweaters and sportjackets. (Yes. Hip people dress like Bing Crosby.)

4. Spats and corncob pipes.

Okay, I made that last one up. I wish I could remember the rest. Oh, it was funny. Hoo boy.

I couldn’t tell them anything about the attire of the hip, because when the hipsters approach I’m so shamed by my comparative absence of hipness that I am temporarily blinded and all I can do is roll about on the ground shrieking until they retreat.

Moving on:

Yesterday Henry and I had the following exchange, after I came upon him curled up on the ground next to his Star Wars dolls (THEY ARE NOT DOLLS, my husband shouts even though he’s not here), I mean figures.

Me: Are you okay?

Henry (eyes squeezed shut): I’m a baby.

Me: You’re my baby.

Henry: No. I’m just a baby. [After a second, he gets up.] I will have some water in a big boy cup. [This is as opposed to a sippy cup, you see.]

Me: Good idea!

We go get some water.

Henry: You feel sad.

Me: I do?

Henry: Water will make you feel better.

Me: Sure, I like water.

[We drink water.]

Henry: Do you feel better?

Me: You know, I do! Do you feel better?

Henry: No, you were sad. Do you feel better?

Me: I absolutely feel better now. Thank you.

Henry [putting his cup down]: Good. Now it’s time to spin around and around.

And dear god, he was right.

Comments

[Jake]

Children are such a wellspring of engaging blog material. I must get one of my own post-haste.

[Mrs. Kennedy]

Second!

[Stacy]

It IS time to spin round and round, isn't it? And water makes everything better.

Thanks, Henry. I've been having a rough few days and I really needed that.

[Wendy]

well mannered Henry! In our house, Alexander would have held on to the cup while spinning round, since if water makes everything better you may as well share it... So glad all is well with Dad.

[Paul Buffa]

Ohh I get it! Water is slang for vodka! Now it ALL makes sense...

[sac]

This post should have been entitled, "Like a record, baby..." Please consult me next time before posting.

[alice]

Damn. I knew I could have done better.

[Em]

"Sure, I like water" cracked me up so much, and I don't know why!

Also, Henry is right, spinning is ALWAYS a good idea. You might want to keep this kid away from booze in the future.

Hipsters also wear vintage T-shirts and Converse low stars. Oh, and those damn studded belts! I then call them "hipster doofuses" which I borrowed from Elaine on Seinfeld.

[jilbur]

Was he right about your being sad, or the appropriateness of that moment for spinning around and around, or both? or is he just always right on principle?

Also, since we're on the question thing: do you answer email sometimes? I know that if you give up everything else about catholicism, you'll hang onto the guilt because it's always in fashion. but don't feel guilty; that style never looked good on you--it's just I miss you, sweetie.

[LOD]

Are pig valves kosher? And can Catholics have them implanted on a Friday?

Organized religions are a laff-riot.

[Karen,Suburban Mommy Disguise]

I immediately stopped blogging and stood up to spin around and around. I then picked Mason up and we did it together.

Henry, You ARE a genius!

P.S. I can't quite get a grip on the whole religion thing despite a good dozen years in CCD. I did, however, witness my mother passing away in a pretty much peaceful manner due to her devout belief that she was heading toward the right hand of Jesus. If you can pull it off, the whole belief thing must be insanely comforting.

[jen]

It is a little creepy but my 2-yr-old son and I have had almost identical conversations. Water make it better. Time to spin.

[Planet Mom]

It always amazes me how in-tune our kids (and for that matter, our pets) are with our emotions. I don't just wear them on my sleeve anymore; they're apparently plastered to my forehead most days. Yours too. When I look in the mirror I can usually read "STRESSED OUT" or "BEYOND FRUSTRATED" quite clearly, but it looks more like "TUO DESSERTS" and "DETARTSURF DNOYEB." (I think that reading-upside-down skill we all possess so that our kids can look at "...the great green room..." right-side-up was issued along with a talent for reading-backwards-stuff-pretty-darn-well). Good thing.

Of course, my kids can't actually read yet; but they surely can interpret how I'm feeling--even if I haven't a clue. Just last night Seek and Destroy had transformed our bathroom into Wet & Wild World, YET AGAIN and I about blew a gasket. Trust me, the words that were emblazoned upon my forehead are not fit to print.

Let's just say they knew I was not a happy camper.

Anyway, when I finally calmed down and realized there were more important things than a drippy counter or flooded floor ("...because I was a sprinkler, Mommy!", I could appreciate how in-tune they were with me.

"You're not mad at me anymore, are you Mom? I love you."

How can I stay mad when they say dumb fool things like that, dagnabbit?!

Henry's tuned-in. Big time. And that's pretty cool.

My thoughts (and prayers) are with you and your family.

[Jimmie]

Dacron in heart surgery is used because it's porous (but not TOO porous), resistant to stretching out in wet environments (like a chest cavity,) and strong as hell. When I was eleven months old I had a tetrology of the fellot with VSD and they used Dacron in conjunction with the stitching to seal the hole in my heart. To this day, nearly eighteen years later, it's still looking like new and holding strong, even though the hole has taken the initiative to seal itself up over the stitches! Or so my cardiologist tells me.

[Stacia]

Strangely enough, I also was wondering about whether pig valves are kosher, which lead to me pondering how (or if) my sister-in-law's father, who is both Orthodox Jewish and a cardiologist, deals with them.

I must ask her.

But I have to spin first.

[fauren]

my grampa got a pig valve when i was younger. he also had a hugenormous snore. boy, it was fun when we joked about how he was going to start oinking in his sleep.

[Dr. Johnny Fever]

If he's getting the pig's valves, shouldn't he also get its cute little squiggly tail? I mean, come on.

[Caroline]

I live in Prospect Heights and I also go to college with the williamsburg hipsters so I am familiar with the species. Those who haven't seen the creatures either in captivity or in there natural environment cannot fully appreciate the intracasies of their mating, socializing and adorning rituals...I came across this a while ago, some of the fashions might have changed a bit...but it does a pretty good job of describing the "hipster"http://www.bitch-sessions.com/archives/000097.htmlbtw: Henry is my new fave person I have never met

[lis]

Silly rabbit. Hipsters are what you grow up to be when you never got to be popular. then you grow out of it. or you don't, and you write for freewilliamsburg.com. and then you publish the hipster handbook. and rule things like friendster, and name all your favorite books as catcher in the rye spinnoffs. educate yourself, alice! be able to answer the question: what's the difference between a hipster and a scenester? then you can really make fun.

my grandpa had a pig valve, and they replaced it once with another one after about 15 or so years, but he kept on truckin for a damn long time. and he got that thing when he was like 55 or 60, a spring chicken.

[anne]

aw! henry is your water brother now!

[Beth]

Just the thought of spinning makes me dizzy! I used to spin with my now-four-year-old son until I realized he could spin for a lot longer than I could before falling on the floor. Now I occasionally spin slowly while he whirls around, focusing on one outstretched hand (maybe that's the key to spin longevity?). Reading about your son telling you that you were sad reminded me that when my boy was younger, he'd ask for things that way and it confused people who weren't in the know. For instance, he'd ask, "Do you want some milk?" when he wanted milk -- basically he was feeding us our lines. ;^) Your son sounds adorable, and yes, those Star Wars thingies are action figures -- not dolls -- although WE know they're really dolls when you get right down to it. ;^)

[Nobody]

Me: I'm sorry, honey, I'm a little stressed and grumpy. I didn't mean to be sharp with you.

Two-year old son: That's ok Dad. (Pause) You know, when I'm grumpy I take a nap.

[Beth]

Damn! I got so wrapped up in the spinning story I forgot to tell you I'm glad your dad is on the mend. I blame my oversight on the fact that my son woke me up at 3:20 a.m. after having a bad dream and I haven't gotten back to sleep yet. Keep us posted on your dad. Best wishes!

[honestyrain]

i can't handle the spinning. at all. not even for like five seconds. i get an instant headache and feel violently ill for hours after. sure sign that my childhoos is behind me.

[DEPjrTX]

My three year old conversations are the best part of any day, somehow it always seams to me that children have a much better perspective on what is truly important. Water, Spinning, and daddy peas carry me.

On the last point my son thinks that riding daddy’s back on the way to bed is as fun as flying, and has no idea that I enjoy it more than he ever could

praying for you and your dad