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.

Condos

My daughter knows the word "condo" now. It's because her mama and daddy talk about the condos constantly, and tsk-tsk the development up and down California each time we travel that way. We are house snobs now - we have the luxury of owning our own home on our own property, and even have a yard where our dogs can run around. I don't know that we have all that much against condos or townhomes, really. We just don't like the way THESE condos around here are shaping up, for the most part. They seem to be getting slapped up without much regard for the history and future of our community; they are unabashed symbols of capitalism. They are land-hogs, stretching their structures all the way out to their property lines, and all the way up to their coded height limits. They make me feel yucky. And P.S., What kind of people are going to live there? That also makes me nervous. And don't go telling me this is "affordable housing." These places are starting around $4-500K. So it's not going to be friendly, middle-class families who just want to live in a nice community. It's going to be single-ish, couple-ish upper-class-ish people who are choosing to spend their money to live someplace tacky, a.k.a. TACKY PEOPLE. Ugh.

I am not sad that structures like the burned-out Schuck's or the nasty Hancock Fabrics building (hey - isn't that also a Schuck's?) are getting torn down and revamped for mixed retail and living spaces. I just want to see more consideration taken for the values of the community when the new structures are designed. I have learned (and please correct me if this is inaccurate) that according to city restrictions, developers constructing buildings with eight townhomes/condos or less in this area do not have to go through any sort of community design review process prior to initiation of their projects. Ever notice that a lot of these places going up, particularly the really generic, disheartening ones, are exactly eight townhomes big?

Now onto the subject of Whole Foods. Honestly I have mixed feelings about this whole thing, though I'm not exactly sure how this is really going to affect me because I shop mostly at Safeway and Fred Meyer and WinCo (do you know about WinCo? An amazing place! I will save this topic for an entire post!), and generally more cheaply and inorganically. I know, I know - I should buy organic, blah blah blah, especially now that I am pregnant. But find me a store that sells organic for only slightly more than regular price, and washes off the dirt for me (why does it always have to be so dirty? I still believe it's organic without seeing the soil still on the leaves!) and I will go running with my hemp bag to load up. Ha ha. Until that time, it will be me with all the other rag-tags in our sweatpants at the Safeway, buying our non-dirty produce and discount meats. Not to mention the human drama that unfolds each time I shop there. Yesterday I saw a guy in the Safeway wearing a t-shirt that said "Hola Bitchola," shopping right next to a little old lady who had been bussed in from the nearby rest home. They smiled pleasantly at each other. Now, tell me when I would see that at PCC!

Sure, I love to go to Whole Foods occasionally when I visit Portland, and look at all of the gorgeous fruit stacked up perfectly, the tantalizing sausages in the meat case, the amazing fish section. I love to go to the cheese section when I have a little dinner party, and try fourteen samples of fresh cheese from all over the world before I pick one. And I love to look at all of the lovely desserts and the prepared foods section to get a little snack and lots of ideas for what I might whip up at home. It's a beautiful experience, really. And cheers to all those people who can do their weekly shopping there, buying bags and bags full of that awesome produce and meat and 360 brand rice cakes and bottled water and flax seed oil. You will probably go to heaven for filling your bodies with only the freshest, purest foods. But I do not believe that most of us can shop there like this. So I guess I wonder how these three stores - Whole Foods, Metropolitan Market, and PCC - are all going to survive in our little old neighborhood. I would hate to see Metropolitan Market have to leave West Seattle, for example, as I feel this is a wonderful, local community-minded business (although I do very little shopping there, either. It is a great place to get the occasional coffee, though! And of course the samples. And it's a good place to see some West Seattle gays.).

So, we shall see. Happy Friday, by the way!

Pregnant

Last week Wednesday I found out I was pregnant. Apparently, I'm about six weeks along now, and the embryo (or is it called a "fetus" at this point? I forget) is supposedly about the size of a peppercorn. I'm not exactly sure how far along, as my cycle's been all out of whack for a few months, so they have estimated from a blood test they took last week. Thank you, phlebotomist, for the lovely brown bruise I'm now sporting on my left arm.

I've had few symptoms, except for a monster headache that started about Sunday evening and stayed with me until Wednesday. Oh yes. I used to really be the Headache Queen - like get these horrible hormonal/migraine headaches that took over my entire body and would cause me so much pain I would vomit - until I had a child. Then they pretty much went away. Now they're back, apparently. With my last pregnancy, I managed to avoid coffee, alcohol, litter boxes, artificial sweeteners and most of that other "bad" stuff like the plague. I did still indulge in sushi at Azuma and stinky European cheeses. And I will again, dammit! And this time, I'm having a cup of coffee every morning. I've decided it's okay, and it's a hell of a lot better than getting a headache from lack of caffeine that turns into a migraine that lasts for three days. I did have to come to this on my own, though. I hate it when people shove their children in your face and say things like, "I had a glass of wine every day throughout my pregnancy with Beauregard, and look! There's nothing wrong with him!" Shut up - you're gross. As if your baby was this grand experiment about the REAL effects of alcohol on fetuses (all that stuff the doctors say is just a bunch of bunk, right?), and you've got living proof now that we all can have a cocktail with dinner every night. Blech.

I'm going to be talking (actually whining) about unsolicited advice from people when you're pregnant. Unsolicited comments in general. With my last pregnancy, I liked to play this trick on inappropriate people in supermarkets, etc., who would ask me when I was due. I liked to act really shocked and say, "I'm not sure I understand what you mean!" so they would have to stand there and flounder and try to think of how to now mask their idiotic comment. Some woman came up to me at Costco near the pillow section and she grabbed a body pillow and shoved it at me and she said, "You're going to need this." Shut up. Call me a grump (and I am kind of a grump today, and I will be frequently throughout the next nine months), but people need to censor themselves somewhat. A pregnant belly is not a cry for help, in and of itself. If I must cry for help, I'll just cry. Oh and I will just cry, too. Don't tell me anything about babies dying or conjoined twins having an operation to get separated or some child's plight with multiple sclerosis or diabetes or homelessness. I'll be a mess. I already am a mess, but you know, it will all just come out in your lap.

Anyway, right now this baby's just a peppercorn, so no one's talking to me at the grocery store usually. Except the elderly men who see my daughter and come up to me and say, "What aisle did you pick her up in?" Ha ha ha. I swear this has happened each of the last five times I've been at the Safeway. Maybe it's the same guy! And I always say, "I had a coupon," or "She was on special." Ha ha ha. What the hell is wrong with me?

And I am excited to house this new life. In general, my last was an excellent pregnancy. I cruised around (then waddled) for the entire blissful time. I was a little bit cranky and I got pretty tired of getting up to go to the bathroom all the time, but I loved having a big belly and I thought I looked pretty awesome. I also got really into the whole mother-one-with-earth thing. Not like Birkenstocks and all that - no way (see my last post) - I definitely still got my grub on at Jack in the Box and the taco wagon in Burien and wore heels that were too high for my pudgy legs. I just mean that I was continually amazed that my body could grow this other person, and I could be her first life source. That's pretty incredible to me.

Last time I knew it was going to be a girl. I bought her an outfit at the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale (starts tomorrow!) before we even found out, and my husband yelled at me, but I just smiled because I knew. This time nothing strikes me right away. Perhaps I'm just being more reserved because now the chances are good again that it will be a boy. A boy would be good. I'm not such a boy kind of gal (one of two sisters), but I could learn how to do it for sure. I would try not to pressure him too much or dress him too effeminately, but I think I would secretly hope the whole time that he was gay. I'd be waiting at every turn to have "that conversation" about the gay neighbors or the man who wears foundation at the M.A.C. counter or the cheese guy at the market - you know. I mostly would just want him to learn to respect women, and to respect himself, and to not be afraid to do things like use lotion.

It's going to be different this time with a toddler in tow, I keep thinking. It already is different. What happened to that rule from last time about how you're not supposed to lift more than 20 pounds? Or you're probably not supposed to change poopy diapers or eat pieces of food that someone else has already slobbered on. I guess you don't have the same rules when you already have one. I keep trying to tell my daughter that mommy has a baby in her tummy, but she just smiles at me and says, "Owie. Tummy." Okay - I guess that's good enough for now. Another great journey begins. I'll see you tomorrow at the sale in the baby section. I'll be the one with the cup of coffee.