School Days

For a so-called stay-at-home-mom ("SAHM"), it seems that I am hardly ever home these days. I thought that what with August ending and our weekends no longer being PACKED with activities, I would have some time to just chill with my girl. But no. Now we have preschool, and OB appointments, and study appointments, and YMCA for mama's exercise and daycare. And at night, I have meetings for the preschool, and book club meetings, and neighborhood association meetings. Etc., etc., etc. The weekends are now about the only time we have at home, together, but of course those get swallowed up often by time spent with extended family and/or friends we haven't spent time with in too long. Time is at a premium, and while I want my little one to be able to taste all of what is out there for her, I also don't want her life to actually become stressful at 21 months. She is a little bitty person with a short time here so far. She moves slowly through the world, taking her time to notice each thing (often for the first time!), to remember its name, to take in its presence with all of her senses. Today we went to Subway for lunch after I went to the lab at the hospital to have my blood drawn, and she sat right down at our table and started staring at the ladies at the table across from us. "Hi, ladies!" she said, and she kept on saying it ("Hi! Hi!") and swinging her legs in her chair and smashing her chip with her fingers on the table. She was right there with a big grin on her face, soaking up life, and I can honestly say I do believe she's had a big day today. She got to press the buttons on the elevator, she got to look at the pictures in the lobby, and she got to sit in Mama's lap while the lady took Mama's blood with a needle (and she's the one who got the lollipop afterward!). I suppose this is all to say that I need to be mindful of the fact that I do not need to structure every moment of her days in order for her days to be well-spent. I think we as mothers - as parents - can get too caught up in all of the "activities" that are out there, and feeling like we need to sign our children up for each and every one. My daughter's favorite thing to do right now is to sit at the dining room table with some play-doh and plastic cookie cutters and just make snakes and noodles and stars for a little while. She wants to put the play-doh right up to her nose and take a giant whiff and say "Yucky!" and break it all apart, only to stick it all back together again in a big hunk. This does not require me to change her clothes, put on shoes and socks, get into the car or out again. She requires only a hand to get up into the seat of the chair, and someone to get the play-doh and toys out for her. And she's in heaven.

We go to the co-op preschool through South Seattle Community College once a week. My daughter thinks this is the best place in the whole wide world. When we go to "school" there are stations of fun activities set up for her to play with, and she can just run around like a crazy person checking each one out. Her favorites are the play-doh table (of course), the sensory table (changing each week from water to rice to silky scarves), and the larger play area where there are things like slides and tunnels set up for all the kids. Then we have snack time, which is a little more challenging, as my daughter has to sit in a chair at a table and eat her snack, which is different from all the other kids' snacks, so she usually thinks she would rather have what some other child is having instead of her own thing, and also she wants to get down and go roll around on the mats some more with her orange slice instead of sitting in her seat, because she is just so gosh-darned excited to be there. Then we have music time, which involves all of the kids shaking little maracas and bells to songs like "Shake My Sillies Out" and sitting in their mamas' laps to sing more interactive songs. And then comes the most magical moment of the whole week for my daughter, in which she can hardly contain herself and literally squeals with delight: we sing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" with all of the lights turned out, laying on our backs and looking at twinkling Christmas lights on the ceiling. For my daughter, this is IT. She grows quiet and still as a snail, and you can almost see her whole little body trembling with anticipation for the special song. She cannot stop talking about it all week long, and will positively tell anyone she meets about this experience.

I honestly wasn't sure if I wanted to do co-op preschool with my daughter (it does cost about $50 a month, plus some other small fees throughout the year - plus I have to do a "job" for the co-op, which requires more of my time, and we have to attend a once-a-month parents' meeting/training), but this visceral excitement my daughter shows over going to her "school" has sealed it for me, and I now feel bad if we are even a minute late. It also gives me confidence that my daughter will be okay leaving me eventually to go to "real" school, as her experience with the whole idea has been so positive thus far.

I wanted to also talk today about "Tim Gunn's Guide to Style," which I have been watching on Bravo each week (gosh it's been a long time). Here's my review so far: honestly I find it a little bit disappointing and lame. I was so excited for Tim to have his own show, but it quickly became evident to me that this is not at all Tim's own show; Tim is pretty much just the name, and the bitch for Bravo and Macy's hyper-advertising. I mean, every time the fashion-challenged woman goes shopping for her wardrobe, she has to go to Macy's. I honestly cannot think of a worse place to shop for an entire wardrobe, particularly if you're not sure of what you're doing. Macy's is a very scary place to me; it just seems to go on and on and on and no one ever seems to be able to help me with what I need. I went shopping there last spring for a new foundation, and I swear to God, the saleslady was like, "Well, here are all the shades - go ahead and try them on and see what you like best." Um, hello! I can do that at Bartell's! If you're charging me $50 for foundation, you'd better be sitting me down in a comfortable chair, giving me a hand massage, and applying that shit from a new bottle with special sponge applicator, followed by a full makeover. Anyway, that's my rant about Macy's. The other issue I have with this show is that Tim and Veronica Webb (certainly a fierce 80's supermodel but not a very likeable co-host and handholder to these women - I mean, would you want to go underwear shopping with a 6-foot tall ice queen? Okay, I guess I would, too, if she was taking me to La Perla and buying me whatever I wanted.) are just not hard enough on these women. My favorite makeover show ever was the BBC's "What Not to Wear" with Trinnie and Susannah, both fashion editors at Vogue. Those ladies were hard-CORE! They never held back, and hounded the women through their shopping experiences until they were breaking down, sobbing in the dressing room, but they actually did get them to get it right in the end. Plus, they were on British television, so they could say wonderful things like "That jumper makes your tits look like absolute rubbish!" AND, when they showed video of the women weeks later on that show, the women still had it together, for the most part. Tim's show is disappointing because the women all seem to go back to their old hairstyle and never seem to get the makeup on the right way again. I wish they didn't just recruit all of their women on that show from New Jersey, because I totally want to be on it. And I would be Tim's star student, except that I would be a little bit demanding, I'm afraid. I would be like, "And when you open the magic armoire, Tim and Veronica, I'd like there to be a Ferragamo Python Flap-Top bag and some matching pumps. That will be just what I need to inspire me for my day of shopping. What's that? Oh no, darling - of course you can't get those at Macy's! And I won't be doing any of my other shopping at Macy's either. We all know that Macy's sucks. I know you two would never shop there, and I want to be just like you."

In other news, the new ANNIE LENNOX album has come out!!! HOORAY!!! "Songs of Mass Destruction" looks like a winner - now I've just got to get my ears on it, girl. Lord knows I need something in the car besides the "Curious George" soundtrack and the compilation of random annoying children's music my daughter loves.

What else is new? Oh, well - fall is here. Boy, is it. It's raining and pouring here in Seattle and the leaves have turned overnight. Because of the chill in the air, I was inspired to make beef bourguignon and zucchini gratin (ooh la la!) for a great big family dinner, and it ROCKED. Thank you, Julia Child and Barefoot Contessa. More on Ina Garten later, as she is one of my all-time idols and I just want to go to her house in the Hamptons and sit by the fire, sipping whiskey sours, and having all my flowers arranged by a bunch of super-friendly, preppy gays. What a life.

Enjoy the new chill, and enjoy all of your fall and back-to-school memories.

Anniversary

What a wonderful anniversary we had! We celebrated a couple of days ago - my husband took the day off work and we left our daughter with her grandparents overnight. My husband insisted on surprising me, which normally I hate ("Surprise! We're going on a picnic and hike in the woods today!" or, "Surprise! I caught four frogs at the lake while I was fishing and I'm bringing them home to keep as pets!"), but these surprises were all good and did not involve anything unpleasant for me down the line. The first surprise was a sushi lunch at Nijo Sushi off of Post Alley. I know I've been yammering on about the sushi lately, but I've really only eaten it about three times since I got pregnant. And this sushi was amazing! When we go out, it's usually in West Seattle, so we go to sushi at Azuma because it's a great old local standby. But WOW - what a difference a venture out across the bay can make! I thought Nijo's rainbow roll was one of the best I've ever had, and we got some super-fresh bluefin nigiri that was out of this world. Oooh, we also had some wasabi bloody marys that were awesome (mine sans vodka, of course, but I find that a virgin bloody mary can still be quite enjoyable). And we sat at the BAR like grown-ups - that's always a treat.

Then we wandered up the way to The Spanish Table, where I've always wanted to go. After much time spent living in Spain, I am a huge Spain-o-phile, particularly when it comes to the cuisine. Many Americans don't go for the Spanish food as much as the Italian or the French - maybe because it seems heavy on the olive oil and potatoes - but man, can they do some things with olive oil and potatoes! And ham and fish and cheese and fava beans. And coffee, as my husband can well attest. Anyway, the Spanish Table is faboo - it's got almost everything you need to recreate most any of your favorite Spanish dishes, and lots of fresh Spanish cheese and ham choices. Oh - and the wine selection is outstanding (not that I could partake). I did wish that they had a little counter where they turned out cafes con leche to enjoy while you browse, so I could be 100% transported back, but I guess you have to buy a plane ticket for that. Ah well, someday again . . .

We poked around Pike Place Market for a bit. What a zoo. I wondered how many actual Seattleites were hanging out there, aside from the vendors. We got our doughnuts from that great doughnut hole stand, some cheese from Beechers, and a tea sample from Market Spice, then pretty much got the hell out of there. It's not much fun to be a foodie and be in your first trimester of pregnancy. You want to go and look at all the fresh meat and fish in the cases and wax and think about how you would prepare it all, but the combination of sights and intense odors at the Market can be overwhelming. I needed out.

We took off and headed for our next surprise; the hotel. My husband had booked us a room at . . . tah-dah! The Sorrento Hotel! What a joint! I felt like Little Orphan Annie on her first day at Daddy Warbucks' mansion pulling into that grand circular drive. They knew it was our anniversary, so they upgraded us to the penthouse even though we had just reserved a standard room. They also provided a complimentary bottle of champagne (read: sparkling apple cider) and a cheese and fruit plate to our room. I lazed around on the king-sized bed with the 450 thread-count sheets and ate and drank and felt like a queen. That is my kind of place, let me tell you. I love an historic hotel that is elegant and quiet and reserved, but not at all snooty (well, maybe just a little bit snooty, but not so you feel like a cad walking around the place). I also want to just brag a little more and mention that my husband arranged to have a beautiful bouquet of flowers brought up to the room for me when we arrived. Oh yeah - he is gooood.

For dinner we went to a wonderful restaurant in Belltown called Marjorie. It was a very cozy space with eclectic yet nicely-prepared food. We had the chef's sampler menu, which we always seem to do on our anniversary (we have not been disappointed yet!), and it was all delicious. I especially loved the cold heirloom tomato soup with salmon tartare, and my husband loved the shrimp with grits and a soft-boiled egg. I did crack up, though, when as a third course the waiter brought us a tiny dish each of raspberry-lemon sorbet, and my husband started scowling and getting very anxious because he thought that this was dessert and that was all we were going to get. It turned out to be some kind of amuse bouche, palate cleanser thing before the entree, but it was very funny to watch my husband sweat and try to figure out how he was going to handle the situation. Men . . .

In all, a landmark anniversary. Thank you so much, Daddy. And thanks to Grandma who took the baby for the afternoon and evening and essentially erased all of our worries for about 20 hours - what a treat! Everyone should be so lucky to have a day like this, to be reminded of how special their partner is and how special they are to that person. It is a rare treat these days to look into the eyes of the man I married and talk about things like the future and our dreams and how we're really doing these days. The answer is, blessedly, just great.

Pickling

I've been gone - off the radar - for almost a week now. My apologies. I've been mired in the swamps of nausea and exhaustion. I've been living on small pieces of cheese and saltine crackers, watermelon and ginger ale. It's been hard to imagine getting back to normal, and I've been getting a little freaked out at it all. I also went to Portland to visit my family while my husband went to eastern Washington on a fishing trip. A lot has been going on.

I went to the doctor on Friday for a checkup/ultrasound and to hand over some more blood, and they told me that my due date is March 20th, which puts me at about 8 weeks along tomorrow. Soooo, another couple of weeks of this feeling crappy crap. I've had enough. It was heartening to see the baby's heartbeat on the ultrasound, though. I remember that my daughter's heartbeat was very fast, and my mom and all those women my mom's age told me that meant I was having a girl. But this heartbeat didn't look quite so fast, so I can't help but to think that maybe I'll have a boy. That and this yucky morning sickness, which I don't ever remember having with my daughter. I feel like I've been just sitting around this time, watching my daughter play, with minimal movement. I feel like she must be so disgusted with me after a while, saying "No-no!" and "Not for babies!" from my perch on the couch. I am disgusted with me, that's for sure. She is such a sweet little girl, though - so patient and coming over to me to say "Kiss!" and to pat me on the back every so often. What a peach.

This morning when I went to use the toilet and she went over to her little potty, I told her she was going to try and go potty like a big girl today. I took off her pants and her diaper, and sat her on her plastic pot, but she kept getting up and walking around. I think she understood that I was asking her to produce, but I'm not sure the message got across that she needed to aim her production at the potty. Finally she walked over to the corner and peed standing up and said, "Mama, potty!" She was very proud of herself, and I praised her, but then I took her hand and tried to lead her mid-pee to sit on her potty. She managed to get one drop in the pot, so I would say that she's officially christened it. I am very proud of her. I probably should do some reading on the topic of potty-training before I go whole-hog with her, but I would say that was a very successful introduction.

What else? Speaking of whole-hog, I attempted to make pickles this weekend at my parents' house. I went with my mom to Sauvie Island, to a farm stand, and bought a bunch of pickling cucumbers and jars and vinegar and spices, and got started on my project on Sunday. My sister took the baby to the children's museum, so I had a few hours to myself. Let me just say that, as with every home-made item, there is an awful lot of prep time compared to the actual time of completing the task called pickling. You have to wash and dry all the jars, screw-tops, and lids. Then you have to wash all of the cucumbers really well (and I had 20 lbs.!). Then you have to set up all of your ingredients and set out like four pots with boiling water and your vinegar solution. Then you have to sanitize each jar by dipping it into boiling water (oh - and don't forget the tricky task of getting the jars back out again without cooking your hands!). And THEN you can pack the pickles and spices and pour the solution over them and screw the tops on and put them back in the boiling water to get the lids to seal. Whew! A lot of work for about 18 jars of pickles. And I have this fear that none of them sealed right so they're all going to go bad. We'll see - I'll let you know. It did feel really good, though, to start a big project like this and see it through to its completion.

I also saw my best girlfriend from high school this weekend. She has moved back to Portland from doing her OB/Gyn residency at Duke, and now has a 3-year fellowship at OHSU. What a smarty-pants. She's getting married to her long-time boyfriend this month, and she's anxious to get going on starting a family herself. It was so nice to see her - she's one of those friends where I can go months or even a year or so without seeing her, and then I see her again and we just catch right back up. There's never any awkwardness, and she and I share the same principles of etiquette. That is to say, we are considerate of one another's needs and situations, and we don't say rude things to one another - amazing! We went out to dinner and dessert and the food tasted wonderful and I didn't feel sick once - Hallelujah! But she did say to me something that has been on my mind since I saw her. She said, "So, are you going to come back to Portland ever?" And I wasn't sure what to say. And it made me feel sad. You see, I'm still at that stage here in Seattle where I love living here, and I love the friends we have made and the life we've built for our family, but if the opportunity presented itself and the cards were right, I'd move back there in a heartbeat. You bet your boots. Because that's where I'm FROM. I LIVE in Seattle, but I'm FROM Portland, and my struggle thus far has been to create more of an identity for myself in Seattle. I suppose it will just take time, blah blah blah. It may also take getting a job outside of taking care of my daughter, eventually, or doing something where I am having an impact on a community greater than my household. I want to love Seattle in the same way I love Portland, but I'm not quite there yet. I love various people in Seattle, but the city itself is still fairly foreign to me and holds little interest right now, aside from child-friendly activities and the occasional need for a good restaurant for a date with my husband. In Portland I have a whole city that I love - every last pocket - as well as the people (including my own family and a couple of childhood friends) who I love there. Anyway, it's still a challenge.

We saw "Young Frankenstein" last night. It was very good, although quite long and my husband and I kept getting sleepy. We are such old people now! Megan Mulally was hilarious in it, as was the guy who played Young Frankenstein himself. As always, it was very fun to go out and share an evening of adult activities. As parents we need to keep reminding ourselves that this is key to self-preservation and the preservation of our romantic relationships. Amen.