October 20, 2005 9:07 AM
Those were the days
I've been on my husband's case for what seems like forever - at least through the last two houses we've lived in - to get a grip on our garage. You must understand that Tripp is the kind of person who loves stuff, and likes to keep bags and boxes of it all around him. I think it gives him a feeling of gravitas.
When we married I made him put the boxes in the garage (remember, I was not exactly the submissive wife in 1983 :). Since then, through eight moves - including one cross-country - he has carried this in-my-opinion mostly useless stuff with us. Oh, except for the bag of letters from old girlfriends I took the initiative of throwing away immediately.
The situation has worsened through the deaths of several enterprises - some successful and some not-so - as Tripp has clung to every scrap of paper that passed through his hand during their various lifetimes. The loss of his mother and stepfather a few years ago also added several more peaks to what has become a mountain range on his side of the garage - I finally demanded a side of my own for proper garage stuff like boots and bikes and trashcans.
Anyway, when Tripp has time, he attempts to meet his ever-advancing perfect garage deadline by going out to sift through his stuff. Wnen he comes across a special "treasure" he brings it in to show me. Most of the time, we are not on the same page when it comes to these items - for instance, the moth-eaten wool sweater worn decades ago by his uncle.
But last night he brought me something I though any mommy would enjoy - this little 3x5" 4-page booklet:
Okay, first of all, I must tell you that Tripp's mother's name was Barbara too. Funny, huh? Well, she didn't think it was so funny - but we'll talk about that some other time.
Though they lived in Marin County just north via the Golden Gate Bridge, they had to go to UC San Francisco to have their baby - 38 years later, our two-day-old son Jonny would be medevacced there to get the specialized help only they could provide.
Notice the old telephone system, which used names for the first two places in the phone number. No area codes back then either. I'm old enough to remember that, but most of my readers probably aren't.
Check out the rate for prenatal, hospital birth, and postnatal care - $100! Four payments of $25 dutifully paid in full three months before Tripp made his entrance.
My mother-in-law kept every receipt, too.
She wrote all the times of her labor pains here. From 2:30 am until Tripp's birth at 3:56 pm. At the bottom it says she went to the hospital at 10:30 am - Not bad for a first baby. I don't know what her birthing circumstances were. At the time, I think they were knocking women out with general anesthetic and delivering the babies on their own steam (lots of forceps).
On the right is her weight gain - 22 pounds for the entire pregnancy and back to normal 5 days after birth. I gotta hand it to her - in that area, she was a better woman than I!
Well, let me say here and now that I just want to thank this woman - with whom I shared an often uneasy peace - for having the baby they named Wallace Barnes Curtis III after his father and whom they never called anything but "Tripp" (short for triple).
And Tripp, honey, thanks for cleaning up a little last night. This little memento made it worth it!
Posted in Babies, Family, Mothering | Permalink
Comments
What a treasure! This definitely should be saved for your children. It makes me smile to think about Sophie one day looking through her own "baby book," and showing it to her future husband! - Carrie
Posted by: Carrie | October 20, 2005 5:42 PM
Cool!
Posted by: Mel | October 21, 2005 5:25 PM
