Favorite Film

Neighborhood Pup

Photos by Annie Kosh

Journal Entry -- Annie 5-Weeks-Old

November 28 1997. Annie. Tonight you and I took a bath together with Daddy sitting beside the tub. I tried to nurse you, but a breast is pretty slippery in water, so, when you couldn't get a hold of it, you'd start screaming bloody murder.

I love you madly and passionately, and it feels like I must love you more than any mother in the history of mothers has ever loved any baby in the history of babies. I can’t wait for you to become a little walking, talking girl, but at the same time I want you to stay 5 weeks and 2 days old forever. With a bushy head of dark hair, a big chubby face, no teeth, huge baby eyes, the most beautiful soft round naked human body I've ever seen, toes that grip tightly to my fingers, tiny hands that hold on while nursing, little butt, big smiles, all eyes and gums that make me fill to the top with love and joy and feelings I never knew I had inside of me.

I am not a poet, but once I have settled into being your mom a bit, I will write you a poem. Or I’ll try anyway. Someday I want you to know how much your mom loves you and how happy you’ve made me.

Quote

“It opens the lungs, washes the countenance, exercises the eyes, and softens down the temper; so cry away.”

--Charles Dickens

Annie Says:

"Mommy, you look like like a person who should be called. 'Ace'."

Monday Night

While Annie gets ready for bed, David and I embrace in the hallway. Suddenly she stops and stares at us.

David:"Keep getting ready, Annie."
Annie: "Okay, but tell me when you start making out."

Joy in Giant Steps

David: "I take it back."
Katie: "What?"
David: "I'm listening to John Coltrane and I'm hearing tons of joy."

Katie explains to Mom: "David thinks the undercurrent of jazz is essentially sad and I, for the most part, disagree."

Mom walks into the living room and listens to Coltrane play.

Mom: "Oh, he's having a GOOD time!"

Sunday Night

Katie: "Do you feel lucky to be married to me?"
David: "I do."
Katie: "Yeah, you could just be married to some white girl."

Listening to at the Moment ...

In My Dreams

Back in 1990, Tai lived in New York City for a stint and worked as the Art Department Manager at Esquire Magazine. At the same time, I was working in the editorial department of Grosset & Dunlap. I was no good at sitting in an office all day and kept myself entertained by faxing letters to Tai. (Oh, if only we had the Internet back then!)

Here's one such fax. Click to read.

Note: Look at the date on the fax. A coincidence for sure!

"To Do Blog:" Boyfriend Criteria

This chick's going to be alone for a long time.

Mother's Day, Back to Back

When Annie was a baby, one of my favorite things to do was nap with her on the bed with our backs touching. I got a bit of it for Mother's Day, we call it "Back to Back."

No Reservation Needed

A Mother's Day brunch fit for a Jew: Bagels, cream cheese, lox, onion, tomatoes, pickles, garlic-stuffed olives, Costa Rican coffee and David's Mimosas.
In all the years of family gatherings, there has never been a time my brother Michael has not ended up like this. Never.
Two generations watch the river.

Sing Me to Sleep

When I was little my father would sit on the edge of my bed every night, play his guitar and sing me to sleep. It wasn’t "Puff the Magic Dragon" or "Rock-a-Bye Baby." Dad sang folk songs, union songs, and songs like "St. James Infirmary" and "Frankie and Johnnie." So, instead of drifting off to slumber with images of sheep and rainbows in my head, I'd fall asleep with visions of John Henry, dying with a hammer in his hand, Frankie, a jealous woman, shooting her man through a hotel door, and men being carted off in horse-drawn caskets. But somehow, it was comforting, and I liked seeing the stories play out in my mind.

Recently, my mother had a CD made of my father performing folk songs on stage at The Second City in Chicago. He wasn’t a great singer or a great guitar player, but all of the sweetness he possessed came through when he sang and when he strummed. I listened to about 10 seconds of it, then had to turn it off.

So I’ll keep the CD on my desk until I can go there, back to when I was a little girl, falling asleep to the sound of my Pop's voice.

“Oh when I die please bury me in a milk-white Stetson hat, put a twenty-dollar gold piece in my watch chain, so they'll know that I died standing pat.” – One of my favorite lines from “St. James Infirmary.”

Journal Entry -- Annie 2-Months-Old

Annie. Never have friends or boyfriends who treat you unkindly. Never. You are a gift to everyone you meet. If you're not respected and cared for by someone, walk the other way my darling, and just keep walking. You are a jewel; you are valuable, priceless, precious. You will be those things forever, even when you're having a bad hair day or when you don’t do well in class. And by the way, if any kids at school tease you, please tell me. I'll kill them. (Just kidding, but do tell me.) And also, would you please come to me with any problem you have? Friends, boys, sex, drugs, your period, need new shoes etc. I will always be here for you. Sure, I'll get mad at you, but I'll never judge you. I'll always accept you, and I won't punish you if you are honest with me and if you promise not to get into a stranger's car or let your boyfriend tell you what you can and cannot wear or that he wants you to lose 10 pounds or that you can't see your friends when you want to.

Promise me to stay safe and be yourself and not hang out with people that are too stupid. Oh, and please don’t marry a Republican, it would upset your daddy and I'd never hear the end of it.

Annie Asks:

"Am I dazzling in this outfit?"

I Hear Him

On Saturday, while David shopped at the health food market, I took a break, got a coffee and went outside to sit in the sun. When I spotted this beautiful creature, I knew that the vacant chair beside him was where I wanted to be.

His name is Whisper.

My Mom, New York City 1963

"All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That's his."

~Oscar Wilde

M.O.T.H.E.R.

Annie's Acrostic Mother's Day card. (I think she was trying to butter me up.)

M. Marvelous Person
O. Outrageous
T. Terrific
H. Heroic
E. Enchanted
R. Rock Star

Marriage & Music

Sunday evening David is playing his rock CDs for what seems to me like an eternity.

Me: "Can we please change the music now? This has been going on for hours and I'm going slightly nuts."

David: "Hours? What do you mean hours?"

Me: "Can't you just put on some jazz? Jazz never hurt anybody."

David: “What do you mean 'jazz never hurt anybody?' That's a dumb thing to say."

Katie: "What do you mean that's a dumb thing to say?"
David (laughing): "I don’t know, it just sounds dumb."

Listening to at the Moment ...

A Woman of Words

I just returned from the market to find the most beautiful email from Tai. She said to me: "You are luminously brilliant, utterly ravishing, enigmatically unpredictable, stunningly smart, supersonically intuitive, addictively funny, fiercely loyal, ruggedly independent, tenderly gentle, passionately loving, and breathtakingly artistic.

"If you weren't my friend I'd spend my life looking for someone exactly like you."

-- Let me tell you what it's like having a friend like that, a friend who believes all of those things about you.

It's a feeling of home and of safety, of being known, seen, loved, and understood. It's history and commitment, a place to go when there's no place to go.

Tai is a woman of words, a writer, a thinker, a compassionate soul. She has a dangerously sharp wit and a brilliant mind. She is fearless, sexy and spontaneous, and if I didn't have a friend like her ... I wouldn’t bother looking.

He Just Gets to Me

I'm not an opera fan, in fact, I've been to the Met several times and have never enjoyed any of it. However, Puccini is another story. His arias in particular. And "Nessun Dorma," from the Opera "Turandot," sung by Luciano Pavarotti ... tears me apart.

Here's a picture of Giacomo Puccini. If he were alive today, I'd give him a big kiss on the lips.

Favorite Film

When I first saw this movie I loved it. I was drawn to the actress who had a striking and unusual beauty, as well as an unaffected way of acting. And I also appreciated her body; curvy, womanly, not a bone in sight.

Last year, after seeing the amazing John Patrick Shanley play, "Doubt," David and I stopped to have a drink at the bar my brother Michael was working, and the actress from the film, Sarita Choudry, was there with a friend of ours. I don’t get excited over celebrities, but the way I carried on about Sarita, you'd think I ran her fan club. In any case, we spent the next couple of hours in each other's company, chatting it up and getting free drinks from Michael. (She also confessed that the film execs asked her to lose weight for the role which she refused to do. My kind of woman!)

It was a fun night. This is a good movie.

Thursday Night

Katie to David: "What did you do to deserve me?"

Things to Do: Purchase Strong Rope

When taking myself to The Half Note this morning, I stumbled upon another blog called "To-Do-List." I found it interesting in an odd sort of way.

Here's a "To Do" that someone sent in, I assume female, that lists what she's getting in her life that she likes, and things I assume she's not getting but would like to get. I especially like the last one, "You tie me up during sex." Seems so sweet on the paper somehow.

Click to see it large, or go to www.todolistblog.com

mmmm Monique!

It's time that I introduce Monique to the blog. In fact, it’s long overdo. She is David's imaginary girlfriend, she's lived with us on and off for several years, and she works at an upper Manhattan post office.

Nobody Else But You

David: “It's important to me that you're a creative person. It's one of the reasons I could never be with anyone else.”

Katie: “I don’t like when you say that because what if I die? I'd want you to find someone else."

David: “It’s okay, Monique is taking acting classes.”

Journal Entry -- Annie 6 Days Old

October 28th, 1997--Annie. My love, my darling, my life, my world, my universe, my reason for living. I love you. You are six days old and lying beside me on the couch. You are the most beautiful, splendid, wonderful creature and you are mine. You're smiling in your sleep, you had a sponge bath tonight, you're wearing a white terry cloth sleeper. You are perfect.

Quote

“To live in Australia permanently is rather like going to a party and dancing all night with one's mother.”

-- Barry Humphries

Another Fine Establishment

Milwaukee, WI.

Listening to at the Moment ...

Had to ...

How could I not? It's a bunny. I want it.

Get a Grip

A few weeks ago, Annie and I were invited to attend an after school workshop put on by her school, and in conjunction with an outside arts program. It combined literature, culture and art, and thinking it would be fun for Annie and I to do together, I signed us up.

The program took place yesterday and we sat in the school library where our friend and neighbor, Marcia, told the classic tale of the “Five Chinese Brothers.” She did a fantastic job and it would have been perfect, but of course, there was a baby crying the entire time, and of course, the baby was being held by one of those mothers who appear oblivious to the disruption and who never seem to consider leaving the room. (Where do these mothers come from?) After the story, we were instructed to gather around an art table where the "Guest Artist" showed the children how to … color. Okay, okay, so she demonstrated watercolor techniques, but I'm telling you, the way she droned on and about how to grip the brush, and did anyone know what the top of the brush was called (The handle), and did anyone know what the bottom of the brush was called, (The bristle.) The woman spoke in a monotone, the room was hot and stuffy and the baby kept crying. Suddenly, I felt dizzy. I literally thought I was going to faint. I got out of my chair and headed for the door. If I was going to pass out, I wanted to do it in private. When I got into the hallway a mother looked at me, confused as to why on earth I would be leaving the event. When I told her why, she assured me that I had low blood sugar, so I went to the vending machine and got a grape soda. When I returned to the library, the guest artist was still rambling on. “Does anyone know how to make a color lighter than it is? How about darker?” I had some ideas, but thought I’d better keep them to myself. The guest artist wasn’t an unpleasant woman, and I believe she may have, somewhere buried deep down inside herself, actually been inspired. She just lacked the personality that might have helped her to inspire anyone else.

After the 30-minute “How-to-Color” demonstration, we were taken to the school cafeteria where pencils, watercolor paper and paint were laid out on the tables. We were instructed to paint pictures that depicted scenes from the story we were just told, of “The Five Chinese Brothers.” Annie decided to paint the brother who couldn't be burned, and I chose the brother who swallowed the sea. (Do you think there’s meaning there? Never mind.) We talked and painted side by side, and finally, I began to relax and enjoy myself. Just then the guest artist lady was standing next to me. "Rubbing," she said. "Excuse me?" I said. "You're falling into the rubbing trap, but don’t worry, that’s common. Just paint one stroke then leave it." I looked up at her and smiled, but my expression said, "You're not serious, are you?" Annie and I continued painting, but soon she was back, the guest artist lady. "Oh, I like how you've used the 'Wet on Wet' technique," she said to me. "Huh?" was my reply. What the hell was she talking about? And by the way, I just want to hang out and paint with my kid, are we being video taped for some research study or something? I started to feel dizzy again and took another swig of the grape soda.

Later on things were peaceful again and the kids were all painting, as was I. But I looked around and noticed that the rest of the parents had begun roaming around the cafeteria like pod people. Pod Parents. They had smiles glued to their faces and were chatting it up with one another and commenting on all the lovely pictures. And then one of them came up to Annie and me. She looked at my picture, thinking it was Annie's, and said, "Oh! You chose the same brother I did! The one who swallowed the sea! It's lovely!" Annie and I looked at each other, perplexed. "That's my mom's," Annie told the excitable woman. The woman left and made her way to the next table. There she picked up the painting of yet another parent and began praising the child for it. "That's my mother's," a little girl told her. Man, she was really blowing it.


Close to the end of the 3-hour program, we were told we could take home our Crayola paints and pencils as if we were being given keys to a new car. The items were put in a Tiffany bag along with a piece of watercolor paper. "Enjoy it!" said the guest artist, smiling at Annie and me as if she had just handed us the gift of art itself along with the map leading us to our own creativity. So, with the paint and paper in a bag, I was ready to go. But we couldn’t leave yet! We were in store for one final treat. To go along with the Chinese theme of the program, we were now going to enjoy a tasting of some authentic Chinese cuisine. And laid out on one of the tables was an array of egg rolls, dumplings and fortune cookies, imported all the way from Chinese #1 on 181st Street.

I passed on the food, Annie ate the fortune cookies, and before long, I was being approached by yet another Pod Parent. "Will you fill out this evaluation?" she asked. Of course I would. And I did. And really, I could find nothing wrong with the program or with the people who ran it. And what? I was going to complain that the egg rolls weren’t flown in from Shanghai? The truth is, the event was given by a group of decent folks with good intentions.

It’s just me. It’s always just me.

"Rainy Day Walking" by Annie Kosh, May 11

Well, I was walking on a rainy day,
Today was dull and dingy,
Nothing seemed just right,
For usually it's so springy.

Dark and gray and not delicious,
But then again, rain is nutritious.
It's good for flowers, plants and trees,
And even baby bumble bees.

Drip, drip, drop, drip, rain spills in my eyes,
So I guess, much to my surprise,
Rain is great and good to clean the eyes.

Proust Says ...

"People can have many different kinds of pleasure. The real one is that for which they will forsake the others."

--Marcel Proust

Before I Was Somebody's Mother ...

... I was a teenager. Working the summer in Yosemite, and breakin' the law.

Oh how I miss 1970s hair.

Journal Entry -- 6 Months Pregnant

July 26, 1997--Annie, It's 4:48am, it's also my birthday. I was woken up by a loud noise from the street, I think the crashing of cars, and also from a bad dream. Now I'm up, filled with anxiety, convinced that I have not eaten correctly during my pregnancy with you, and that you are going to come out of me in trouble. I don’t know, missing fingers or brain damage or SOMETHING. I hesitate to write in this book because it shouldn’t be all about my fears. But I suppose if it were all about the joy and bliss of being expectant parents, it wouldn't be written by your dad and me.

You move around a lot, I only wish you could let me know you're okay in there.

Bye for now my little poppy seed.

Mom

Quote

"David, he's got the whole 'Gandhi' thing goin' on." --Victor, doorman.

Ten Gallon Sax

Favorite Film

My beloved Uncle Paul (Willson) is in this movie, but that's not the only reason I love it. It makes me laugh. Hard.

"Wild Horses" by Annie Kosh, May 9th

Galloping hooves against the ground,
Eyes bright and flashing,
Wild horses run like lightning through the trees.
Foals and mares and mustangs and stallions,
All galloping very beautifully.
Like stars twinkling in the nighttime sky,
Running all day and night,
Tails whipping in the dry air,
Eyes wide with fear,
Manes flowing gently as they run.
Beautiful horses.
Wild horses.

A Poem for a Song

After school, Annie reads her poem to me.

Katie: "Wow."
Annie smiles, "Do you like it?"
Katie: "I love it Annie. You're so talented."
Annie: "Thanks."
Katie: "It's going on my blog tomorrow."
Annie: "No, it's going on my blog."
Katie: "MY blog."
Annie: "MY blog!"
Katie: "I'll pay you for the rights."
Annie: "How much?"
Katie: "One dollar."
Annie: "TWO dollars!"
Katie: "Deal."
Annie: "Deal."

He Speaks

"Live with a sweeter touch."

--Seth

Listening to at the Moment ...

Journal Entries

Last night the whole Mother's Day thing got me thinking. (It doesn’t take much.) It got me thinking about who I am as a mother, and how being a mother has changed me from the person I was before I met Annie. It also inspired me to open up a journal David and I started when we found out I was pregnant with her. We'd leave the book on the coffee table and just grab it when we had something to say to her or something we wanted to share. Before she was born, we mostly expressed our concerns about the world and how we would manage to raise her to be a self-expressed, loved and independent person. Later, it could be about the miracles she performed that day, or simply a pouring out of love and emotion. We kept the book going steadily for six years, and we still jot things down from time to time.

Although I was in a pretty serious frame of mind when I wrote in the journal, reading it now can be very telling and sometimes entertaining. I'll post some of my entries in the coming days. I hope you like them.

Photo Note: What is it that compels new mothers to cut their hair and dye it blonde? Don't ask. In this picture I blow a feather and Annie tries to catch it.

Journal Entry -- 7 Months Pregnant

August 21, 1997--Annie. My latest fear is that you're a boy. I mean, I really don’t know for CERTAIN that you're a girl and we won’t be having any more sonograms at this point. If you were a boy I'd be shocked, and I don't want to be shocked. If you were a boy, I'd somehow feel that all this talking and connecting I do with you will be void. And what would I do with the pink polartec winter hat and blanket, the little girl dresses I bought, and the white frilly outfit your grandma got you? I'm so used to the idea of you being Annie, our little girl, that I don't know what I'd feel if you came out with a penis! Not to mention that there'd be the matter of circumcision. I wouldn’t want to do that to you, ouch!

Goodnight little unborn baby critter.

Mom

Michael & Tai, Northern California

Must be something in the water out there, just makes people adorable.

Favorite Film

Another Fine Establishment

Edinburgh, Scotland.

Quote

“The pendulum of the mind oscillates between sense and nonsense, not between right and wrong”

--Carl Jung

Sweet Names

I love my nicknames. Each one warms me and comes from someone I love and who I am loved by.

Tai calls me "Cake,"
Elisa calls me "Katilia,"
My mother calls me "Katchala,"
David calls me "Kate,"
Maggie calls me "Katrinki,"
Eddie calls me "Katydid,"
My brother Daniel calls me "Beeber,"
My brother Mike calls me "Katcha."

Photo Request

No KG, no more photos of me for a while. In the meantime, here's a little Marilyn.

Monday Night

Katie: “Do people care about Mother’s Day?”

David: “Yeah.”

Katie: “Why don’t I?”

David: “You’re different.”

Bloggus Interruptus

Don’t you just hate when you’re right in the middle of blogging and it’s going really well and then suddenly, it just stops?

Once things are operational again, I’ll get the rest of it up …