The Mermaid Family

Our movie feature tonight was Mermaids, the 1990 film starring Cher and Winano Ryder - before she drank too much cough syrup and became a kleptomaniac. It's an excellent film. I remember watching it when it came out in 1990 and totally identifying with the teenaged daughter. Now I totally sympathize with the mother. The mother/daughter relationship is amazingly accurate. I laughed at a lot of the things the daughter said, while Alesia looked uncomfortable.

Alesia always shouts at the TV screen when she gets hyped up watching a movie. It's rather funny. There is no doubt who she likes in a movie. I am always a bit perturbed, however, when we are watching some heavy dramatic scene, rife with undercurrents of dramatic tension, and she breaks the silence after the big, impassioned speech by saying "Do you think he's CUTE? I don't think so."

Tonight, while watching Mermaids, she kept shouting at the teenaged daughter. "NOOOO! Don't wear those ugly boots! Are you crazy?" At one point Winona Ryder's character is terrified she's pregnant after she just kisses a guy, and Alesia shouted "You're an idiot! You can't get pregnant from kissing!" - and Michael chimed in "You no get baby with kiss! Duh!" I looked at him and thought oh lord, how much does he know?! We have to have The Talk. Soon. Yikes.

Mother said when she picked up Michael after school today that he was way excited. We are going to the mountains tomorrow, up to Asheville, NC. The kids have a holiday. Mother has close friends there and I have a cousin there, from Dad's side of the family. I am looking forward to letting the kids relax by the indoor pool, while I loll about, possibly even reading a BOOK! Good golly Miss Molly!

Michael doesn't know much about mountains. Kazakhstan is part of the Russian Steppe, which is a fancy way of saying prairie. FLAT land, we used to call it in East Tennessee. I'll never forget my drive across it from Astana to Petro last May, and the endless vistas of nothing but grass, and the occasional shack and matching outhouse. Michael's one experience with a mountain is from our trip to Almaty, where we stayed for several days. We took a funicular to the top of a mountain just outside the city, and had a fabulous view. The guide told us everything in Russian, then English. I tried to explain to Michael that I don't think they have that in Asheville, but I don't know if he really understands.

Michael was so excited when I got home that when I went in the backyard for a few minutes he followed me out there, grabbing a toy hockey stick and whacking the ball around the back yard. He was yelling and whacking the ball, the tall grass, whacking the ball into my vegetable garden once, which earned him a mini-lecture. We still have tomatoes and carrots out there. He was just revved up! Mom watched him through the screen door and commented "He's been like this all afternoon!"

I remember going to Asheville many times as a kid, and going through Biltmore House, America's only real castle! I used to pretend I lived there, and I was a princess. When I took Alesia there a couple of years ago it was all changed. It's big business now. Just to go in and look around, not taking any special tours, was almost $100! We didn't see half of it, because we didn't have time. Alesia enjoyed looking out the windows much more than seeing the priceless antiques and artworks. Oh well.

Asheville now is a mecca for artists and antique dealers. It's a booming community but it feels like a small town. My cousin always urges people to move there. If I could find a job there, I might move, but that's unlikely.

When it was bedtime tonight, I watched Alesia put on her pajama pants, after I requested she not walk around her little brother [for the umpteenth time] wearing just panties and a shirt. She complied, pulling the waistband of her pants down around her hips. I just looked at her and shook my head. "Just once, before I die, I want to see you wear a pair of pants at your natural waistline, girlfriend."

She started giggling. "No! It'll never happen!"
"Wait until you're 30, kiddo."
"No! I'm not going to let myself go!"
[Ah, how cruel they are at this age.]
"Kiddo, once you're past 30 or 35, it all starts to go. Don't make fun of my elastic waist pants. I hope to live long enough to see you in them one day!"


Well, I didn't mean I wanted to see her in my exact pants one day, yuck, but just I would love to see her put on a few pounds. She will probably be one of those disgusting beauties - clearly not related to me biologically - who stay slim forever. I can only hope..

[Note: you may not see another post from me until Sunday. Have a fun weekend!]

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