It’s a very sad day in the Lynch household, because this was my Dad’s last day of paternity leave/vacation. Tomorrow, he heads back to work. I’m going to miss him, and I know he’s really upset about leaving me behind every day, but I’m looking forward to spending all summer with Mom. She’s getting nervous about taking care of me all by herself, but I know she’ll do a great job. She held down the fort yesterday while Dad was out running errands, and she did just fine.
I’m still figuring out exactly what Dad does for a living. He says he works for People – well, of course he works for people, doesn’t everyone work for a person or a group of people? But then he told me he writes for People magazine about movies and celebrities.
He said that he also writes movie reviews, and showed me that his rave review of Knocked Up was excerpted in the film’s newspaper ads and website.
The last few days have been busy. I met a few of Mom and Dad’s friends. I slept soundly during some visits; for others, I was extra cranky (in my defense, it was the only way I could think of to get that newly-married friend of Dad’s to stop hitting on me.).
It’s fun to mix it up. Mom and Dad have been doing a good job keeping up with me. Out of all the stuff they have to do for me, they’re most nervous trimming my nails, which grow into Freddy Krueger claws almost overnight. Whenever I’m asleep, I can sense them trying to get the job done, so I try to wake up and jerk my hands around from time to time. Mom, Dad and I also watched the last episode of The Sopranos on Sunday night (I stopped fussing just long enough for us to watch).
Dad explained that much of the show was shot in and around Montclair; in fact, the restaurant in the last scene, Holsten’s, is just a mile away from Dido and Babcia’s house (in fact, when Dad and Mom were coming back from a Clara Maass childbirth class in April, they had to make a detour around Holsten’s because the Sopranos crew was filming the scene where Meadow was parallel parking).
Dad promised that we’ll go there a lot when I get older. Maybe when we go we can find out if Tony got whacked by that guy who was heading for the bathroom, Godfather-style. But I liked that the ending was open to interpretation: Dad thought it meant that Tony was doomed to a life of always looking over his shoulder, waiting for the inevitable to happen. Mom thought it meant that Meadow got parallel parking lessons from the same person who taught her to drive, and I thought it meant that when I go to Holsten’s, I should definitely order the onion rings, because they look gooood!
Today we had to pick up my birth certificate. I guess that means that I was here illegally until today. Good thing no one tipped off the INS.
Before I sign off, I’m happy to answer the first “Ask Julia” question. This one was sent by Mom and Dad’s friend Jessica (not to be confused with my Aunt Jess). She writes:
I love all your pictures, but really can't tell who you look like. Please inform on your next blog.
Well, the jury is still out on that one. I think I have traits from both parents: I seem to have Dad’s fair skin, and his lone dimple on the left cheek. Also, the newborns on my Dad’s side of the family were all large, so I definitely fall into that camp. Additionally, I really like it when Dad lifts me high up and down (it calms me down during crying fits), so Dad hopes that means I’ll love roller coasters like he does. I have Mom’s nose and cheeks. I also have Mom’s weak veins – in the hospital, both of us had to have IVs reinserted after our veins collapsed.
To make matters even more complicated, additionally, a few people have commented that I seem to have received my lips from Angelina Jolie (does that mean she’s going to adopt me next?). And as you can see from the photo comparison, I’m pretty sure that I somehow got my post-bender demeanor from Lindsay Lohan (see what happens when you try to find answers at the bottom of a bottle?).
You be the judge.
Thanks for the question, Jessica!. Some other good Ask Julia questions have already been sent my way, so I’ll devote my next blog to answering them.
Until then, wish me and Mom luck, now that it’s just the two of us…
