RICHMOND WITH MY BESTIE
AND PRETENDING TO BE 'WEST END WANDAS'
I pulled into Staple Mills station on Thursday to an excited mama Jane and an enthusiastic cousin Kate (better known as 6 year old best friend of both Jimmy & Jane, and sister to a precious, so grown up, Toby!).
When we wheeled onto Willway Avenue, (close your eyes and picture the most quintessential American street. Big beautiful 1930s brick houses, American flags flying, and tons of hydrangeas in every yard) I spotted Patrick. He was coming out of their house with a freshly bathed baby Jimmy in his arms. Before Jane had time to fully stop, I was out of the car running to my boopy godson for our first smooch of his life. We couldn’t stop laughing!! I was delirious with happiness. I love him so much it hurts.
NAME GAME
Jimmy, boopy, honey, little love monkey, Jim, James, bubby, little boy … My godson!
Jimmy responds to a LOT of names. And by responds, I mean, he gives you an open mouth grin that doesn’t quit while the tiniest bit of drool inches its way to his lips as he turns toward the high-pitched baby-talk sounds that he has come to know as his name(s). He is DELICIOUS! But my favorite name he grins at is, godson! I love love love that I have been given this role in his life. What an honor. I love him so much and even though, at his ripe old age of 7 months, he is only capable of sitting up, smiling, opening his mouth for a spoonful of solids or a bottle full of warm milk or a kiss from his godmama and mama, making dirty diapers and being held… I am beyond PROUD OF HIM! He’s perfect!
My fellow godparents are incredible too! I love them so much and am excited to share this role with them. Jane told me last night that she and Patrick, her husband and the most precious papa to bébé Jim Bo (Ooop! There’s another of his names!), chose people who they wanted to have in their lives forever. My heart is full that I was chosen. Can’t wait to grow old with this family… FOREVER.
One of the godfathers is Justin, Pat’s best friend growing up and into college (also an almost pro basketball player!! Hmmm, excuse me?!), Another is Peter, Jane’s older brother, best friend of Pat’s, next door neighbor, and the funniest human alive. The godmothers are Lizzie, Jane’s best friend in Richmond, second funniest person alive and mother to Jane’s Godbaby, and moi, Jane’s college bestie turn on-call personal therapist, comedy-relief, advice-giver, listener, and laughter medicine. I am HONORED to be doing this job with all of these wonderful people.
BAPTISM
Father Priest (forgive me.. I was too busy focusing on the boop, (ooop, another name!), to listen out for the priest’s actual name) gave a little talk at the beginning of the baptism to all of us godparents. He gave instructions about when to say “I do,” “we will,” when to cross our hearts as good ahem catholics do (shhhhhh. Don’t tell him that between all four of Jimmy’s godparents, none of us were Catholic by birth – only by marriage for two), and he talked to us about being the example for Jimmy. I loved this understanding of what our role would be for him growing up. And plan to crank up the example volume for Jimmy as I lead by example in showing him the way to freedom, a life of travel and adventure, and of love and kindness. Also of spoiling the ones we love (he will have a direct education about that one from me … as he will be the ultimate recipient!)
I can’t wait to see where he goes, how I can support him to get there, and where I will be booking a flight to go see him. I just feel he is on a path of curiosity! His little eyes already tell that story!
BOUNCING AROUND
Back to Friday. I woke up super early and so happy I did. When I went downstairs expecting to visit with Jane, it was actually Patrick who I got to visit with. The boop and Jane were still catching Zs. Patrick and I have two common loves now: Jane and Jimmy, so each time I get to be around him I feel closer and closer to him. I loved our morning together. We made coffee, talked about books, and his job. He’s a saint!! He teaches at a school with children who are one stop away from prison or juvenile detention. The last chance kind of place. I don’t know how he does it. This summer, while school is officially out, yet he is still there with his students every day so that they have a place to go… he is planting gardens with them. He shared stories about his new students and about the backgrounds they’re coming from, the fights he witnesses, the way he will work hard to plant and grow blueberries, as an example... And yet sometimes the children’s anger will be taken out on their hard work with one swing of a shovel. The plant will be destroyed. Saint Patrick… is teaching them values and worth. His work and love for what he does is something else!
After Jane and Jimmy were up and downstairs, I made the boodle’s belly full with his spinach and sweet potato puree. He loved it! And his parents could NOT have looked prouder. Each time I turned to see what Jimmy was smiling at I would see Jane and Patrick with their mouths wide grinned and gazing at their beautiful baby boy!
Jane and I delivered him to all of his buddies at daycare and then went out for coffees at Stella’s. It’s our go-to in Richmond. We laughed, talked deep, got some rays, ate a whoopie pie, and the best thing we did?!!, we called Escape Spa (which we like to take after our friend Anne Camp and pronounce it Escapé) to make an appointment for a couples massage. Also our go-to place, and plan, in Richmond when together.
WORKOUT & YANKS
Han (pronounced like the beginning of Honey) was my massuse. She walked in, said something I didn’t fully understand, and then promptly started her phone’s techno dance music to set the tone for our couples massage session. We couldn’t breathe through the laughs.
As Jane’s lady was busy working the kinks out of her back, Han was busy yanking the sheet from underneath me. I had accidentally laid on top of the top-sheet and she didn’t like that. She just kept yanking and yanking. She nearly tossed me off the bed. When I asked if I could get off to make it easier for her, she responded with “No. Relax.” I thought.. Haha how!!?
I thought it was sweet though that she waited to address me with this random yanking after I spoke to her first. Because… She probably only knows a few English phrases, as moi en français, and therefore, she didn’t know how to ask me to get up. She just knew how to take action and then responded with two words that she knew when I asked her something. I respect it! And relate to it! Learning a new language – even when away from it for three weeks – has opened my eyes to everyone who is trying English over here as a new language. Patience! and support!
Jane and I finally bit our checks enough to stop laughing and enjoy getting rubbed down. (To stop laughing is a tall order when we get in a room together. Hell, I giggle the second I even see that she’s calling me. So, being tucked in real tight beside each other, in a dark room, with ladies who often disguise massage moves with punches or karate chops, we laugh… a LOT.) At the end, Han, and Snow, Jane’s masseuse, climbed on our beds to knee our tooshes and elbow our backs. I thought I was going to lung her off of me with my body shaking giggles. I didn’t. Han is fine!
After our workout, I mean relaxing massage, we got dressed – oil practically dripping from our hair, devine! – and were CCV (Country Club of Virginia) bound. After all, we had some other HNWI activities to get to. Like… Lounging by the pool. (High Network Wealthy Individuals, as Simon jokingly called us that day. Hahaha!)
MY NEW WATERING HOLE
As we walked up to the pool there were little tots waddling to the playground in front of us with neon camp shirts on. One heard us coming and turned to ask if we’re going home. He was all of 3 years old. We said. “No. Are you going home?” – without missing a beat… his camp counselor turned, looked at the little boy and said “I wish!” What in the wild $%#@??? We made an immediate mental note. Our Jimmy boo would not be attending this camp under that counselor’s supervision… ever.
We reached the adult pool and attempted to cool our palates with a snack of frozen grapes while we plotted our afternoon moves… which ended up going something like this: Lunch at Can Can, browse in Rome boutique, pick up Jimmy, showers, organize closets, go on a family walk in the neighborhood, and then grill out with Peter and Sarah. Best day!!!
BACK TO THE BAPTISM
One word to sum up yesterday… permagrin. The morning started with food prep, tidying, baby smooches, diaper changes, belly laughs, outfit changes from Kate, and lots and lots of coffee. We went to the church where people nearly had to pry Jimmy from me. I am the ultimate godson hog. (I took his open mouth kisses and simultaneous enthusiastic leg kicks as his sign that he liked me hogging him.)
After Jane dropped the glass bottle full of his warm milk, (yes! Haha sweet mama Jane grabbed the bottle and it slipped out of her hand in the silent stone church. Thanks be to Jimmy’s grandfathers who sped cleaned it up) we started the service. Without question, Jimmy was the CUTEST, the most well behaved, the smiliest, the most expressive, and definitely the most edible. We all can attest to that! I mean, each time he passed any of us we were puckering up and going in for his open-mouth smacker.
Patsy and Goeff, Jane’s mama and step father read the readings. Father Priest then did his work: anointing oils, pouring water, holding the largest candle in place for the godparents to light, and blessing the baby’s lips and ears – all while Jimmy was perfect!
We brought the party back to Willway Avenue, where we served up Backwoodz (notice the “Z”) BBQ, baked beans, slaw, cucumber salad, and beers. Favorite type of southern gathering… an outside barbeque. Yet… After everyone was through pretending to enjoy the great outdoors, (heat index was 108°!!!!!!! Can you blame us??!) we moved inside to cool off and stare at Jimmy. We all visited until the BBQ was gone.
When everyone left, Jane and I ducked out to the CCV pool again for an hour while Jimmy napped and Patrick watched the UEFA European Championship. While there, we ran into Anne Camp, who Jane and I love so much! We had a ball talking with her. When we returned home, we all did a little change and then went out for spicy margaritas, tacos, and more laughs.
Since it was my last night in town (how did it go so fast??!!), we invited Sarah, Peter, and their kids, and Eric (my newest friend who has also lived in NYC and loves the old days in Tulum too) over to have wine with Jane, Patrick, and moi. All night we shared stories, we laughed so hard, we drank SO MUCH red wine, smoked so many skinny cigs that I brought back from France, and enjoyed our time together. Ahhhh! I miss this already.
I was asked last night if I could ever see myself living in the “west end of Richmond.” I don’t know exactly what the “west end” is, if I’m being honest, but if that’s where they all live.. I’d strongly consider it! I have loved this experience being back home. To touch down. Remember what I left, laugh, snuggle down friends, and be comfortable with so many people who I love and who love me.
At the moment, I am speedbound to NYC and already missing my people there! Richmond is the most elegant and chic southern city with history, character, and soul on every corner. It’s the current home of my best friend and her edible family, it is the hometown of my NYC bestie, Kaki, and my Paris bestie, Selden. And it will be the steadfast home of my precious boodle godson, Jimmy Vick Gill. The verdict is still out if I’d ever be convinced to move there. But let me just say… It took a lot to get on this train today (Yes… I know… last night’s alcohol probably had the most to do with the struggle. But it did.) So let’s see! If I ever did become a “West end Wanda” — what I hear the uppity ladies living in the west end are called (I think it’s meant to be condescending but I kinda think the name is kitschy), I feel I’d crank up my inner Wanda and nail it!
BIG APPLE HERE I COME
For now though, I am sitting backwards on the Amtrak train (my motion sickness nightmare) and listening to a group of young go-getters discuss their work goals for a retreat they’re en route for. They’re clearly first-timers on public transit, because ummmmm they are YELLING their stories to people who are sitting so close to them that they would easily be heard in a low volume whisper. A seasoned rider, as myself (this is only my second time), should let them know the etiquette. Yet… these body sweats, coupled with my spins from either the backwards ride or (let’s be honest) the copious amount of wine I consumed last night, I’m afraid if I open my mouth to speak – I just may spew. Instead, I begrudgingly just dug deep into my Mary Poppins bag of goodies and pulled out my earplugs (courtesy of my last Delta flight). I have crammed them in my ears and am now listening to muffledness. Bliss!
And… Aside from the train being on time, this experience has reminded me a lot of Paris. Simon often says “Welcome to France!” when things are late there, or when there isn’t consistency, or when someone isn’t helpful, or really anything that feels unexpected or an inconvenience. So, I guess now I can say… “Welcome to Amtrak!” As, today, given my bag debacle only a few short days ago, I anxiously asked Jane to “step on it” as she drove me to the station so that I had time to check in/sort bags etc. However, after we squealed into the parking lot and I ran to the counter to check my bags in, I learned that today they decided not to “check bags,” or weigh them, because the train was full. Hummmmmmmm what?!! Why would that matter?!
Also, when I got to my first class seat that I purposefully booked because it was facing forward – I asked the conductor why I was sitting backwards. He said. “Oh! Sometimes they just turn the cars around. It’s not your fault.” I thought. I obviously know it isn’t my fault! But since it’s happened.. can you get me facing forward already?! He laughed as he walked on. “Welcome to France” I thought! Then I remembered … I was in the US of A. So instead — “Welcome to Amtrak!”
I miss Jane, Jimmy, and Pat so much already. Yet, I can’t wait to get to NYC and explore my favorite city with some of my favorite friends, celebrate V’s birthday, and eat all the things!
Until then. Signing off from Amtrak train 96 pulling into Wilmington, Delaware.
Xo ac
PS: Simon had a change of heart about leaving Paris fully for the Olympics last night — so he has officially reserved us tickets for the Olympic Games Final Phase Athletics. He looked very excited to share this news with me and to assure me that we’ll be rooting for the red white and blue! I know I know — those colors could go either way given our countries — But he said… it’s for USA!
Taking back a flag is forcément — to be real fans.