coffee

I wanted to meet some friends for coffee in this uber-cool coffeeshop that, even when I was cooler and lived in that neighborhood, was way too cool for me. Because I have never been cool, sadly. So now that I am even less cool- and wear sneakers with my work clothes (this still appalls me)- I thought- why don't I go there with my squirmy 11-month old? And why don't I go say WAY EARLY so that I have to wait in said Cool Coffeehouse for an hour trying to manage my child? Or and hey, why don't I do it on Valentines Day just to add to the non-causual, non-child-friendly feeling? And so I sat and kept B. away from the candles and then again away from the candles and decided everyone was judging me and I am judging me and oh shit he's screaming and I totally had a inner-me, irrational panic attack. And called my friends and cancelled and left and walked down the street of my former neighborhood crying because, well, I am always surprised when things are hard. A lot of things that really hard on other people are not such a big deal to me- I'm good at pressing on through, staying pretty happy. And I also have it pretty sweet- even-tempered baby (and of course hottest husband EVER). Meaning I have a lot of wiggle room. Meaning I am then blindsinded when something is actually hard, or a genuinely bad idea- like taking your 11-month old to a Cooler Than Thou urban coffeeshop. Not a big deal but that pressing up against what I can't, shouldn't do right now, oh how it wears on me.
The night got better- oh the chocolate. The chocolate is the best.

February

Ah, February. In the Northeast you are grim. But in Florida- oh man, you were nice. The semester starting with all of its hope. Clear blue skies requiring an occasional sweater. I miss New College today.
Yesterday I missed KY so much. And this place? I know I will miss it in just a few months- my family, those Sat. mornings and Sunday parties. And I am not consoled by the fact that I may love the place we're going- I feel like all that missing of all the places I am not just might make my heart burst.

Puppies, but dumber

Just back from my lunch with b. it used to be that he'd come up here, nurse forever, and then scurry around a little and then nurse some more. Then more scurrying, less nursing. Then two minutes of nursing, more scrurrying, plus a little playing with the computer, strangling himself on the blinds, etc. So now I go downstairs for lunch and play with B and the five other kiddies in his "class." This means I get a lot of love. The kids get really excited about me because well B is excited so what is this? what is this? They are all want to sit in my lap, use my shoulder as a balance, eat my hair, show me the COOLEST BLOCK. Sometimes I will have three trying to sit in my lap at the same time. And shove stuff in my mouth. 11-13 month olds really, really like that.
I think they are all groovy, but it's a little overwhelming. Six kids is an intense thing for me, I can imagine it is for B too. Found a toy you like? Nope, its gone. Hey, another kid is rolling on top of you? Now two? They are like puppies, except I'm not even sure they know what they are doing- in fact, I'm not entirely sure they know the other babies, are, um, there.
The moral of this? It takes a long time for humans to get our shit together. In the most basic, that-is-another-human sense. I won't even think about the self-actualization part.
In other news, its Election Day on the Potomac! GOOOOOOOOOO DEMOCRACY!!!!!

an 11-month belated newsletter

I am going to try, inspired by the excellent dooce and magic cookie, to start doing 1 month newsletters for the boy. Yes, it's a bit late to start, but hey, better late than never, right?

11 months
Dear B-

January was a big month for you and us. We moved into our own place- great for me (no more cooking dinners of bland child-friendly food for 7 people!), great for your dad (no more children sitting on his head as he tries to play Madden!) but not so great for you, as you no longer get to see some of the people you love most in the world- J, K, and E- on a daily basis. It breaks my heart when we go back up to their house and you start flapping your arms in happiness- now THIS, you seem to be saying, THIS is home. You fall into their arms and the mom-clinginess I see with you at home, at daycare, even with your dad, is nowhere. Mom who? It is great. But, well, kid, your parents value their sanity more than your happiness. So change has come.

But back to you. You rock. Your newest thing is feeding ME your food- and your sippy cup, and your pacifier. It's kind of nasty, but I pretend pretty good. You are really enjoying your new-found hand clapping skills- to Bingo, Pattycake, even songs that are not traditionally accompanied by clapping, like you are my sunshine. But that's okay, we're not purists. I've had to change the songs I sing so there are more fast songs we can try and clap to- so less john gorka, more paul simon. I AM accustomed to a smoth ride. I hope I've not lost my bite. And yes, sadly, I don't expect to sleep through the night. But, veering away from my narsicism for just a few more minutes and back to you- it's so great how just the motion of putting the hands together seems to make you so happy.

I think your first word is coming. And I think its going to be cat. I am pretty sure I heard you say it today when I pointed to the dogs on our walk- so, well, you may not have a perfect comprehension of what a cat is, but you know it's something non-human. And that is enough so that your mom knows you are a genius.

The last week has been rough for all of us- sickness, sickness. You've been easy to cry- who knew having a piece of paper pried out of your hands (like that doesn't happen about 15x a day) could be a world-ending event? Well now I know. But even with this fragility, there's been those happy happy baths- man you like to splash. And, ar ar ar, we'd better eat those delicious tiny hands- yeah, you like that too.

Smell ya later-
Mom

side benefits of parenting

When you are hungry, a ziplock bag of stale cheerios can always be found at the bottom of your purse. And, if you are really hungry, zweiback not in a ziplock. Hey- I didn't say it would be pretty.

Went to the dr.'s for a non-childbearing reason yesterday (a sinus infection) for the first time in say, two years- strange. I spent much of my non-work public time with B. strapped to my chest so it is very odd for me not to be automatically identified as a parent.

Back to my pre-pregnancy weight! Problem is, um, I was kind of fat when I got pregnant.

A quiet week under the big lights. We're figuring out a cross-country move. Very complicated with the kiddy. Do I move into a more suburban-type setting because of better schools and more families? Or do I go with the kinds of neighborhoods I've always like- urban residential, economically and ethnically diverse (like Mt. Pleasant or Capital Hill in DC) but what happens if we're the only parents with young kids and everyone else is a 20-something partier who breaks beer bottles on my stoop or pisses on my car? I LIKE hanging with other parents, doesn't it make sense to live near them? I'm thinking no. Part of it is the weirdness of searching from afar- I think if I could walk the neighborhoods myself I wouldn't be so conflicted- and probably find out that there ARE kids in these more urban neighborhoods. Though the one neighborhood I realy like just had its elementary school close because of declining enrollment- probably not a sign of a full-of-families neighborhood....