11 months tomorrow July 27, 2009
Its naptime for Ari, and I’m sitting here pondering the last eleven months of our lives. And wondering whether its a strange increment or not for me to be so thoughtful. On the one hand, its completely unremarkable, this 11 month marker. On the other, its the last month before 12, so I suppose in some ways the erev/eve of a years passing.
What, you think I sit here eating bonbons all day?
I’m on a diet people.
As Roy’s already noted, I was away from Ari for the first time this weekend. I joked that he sent me to the looney bin, but in fact he sent me to the Carneros Inn, one of my favorite places, one we visited on our first trip to California together way back when. The idea was to give me a break. To encourage me to sleep and have nothing to worry about for 24 hours. To be. Now, I enjoy spending time with my boys on weekends, and it was hard for me to go. Like it was time we could have better spent together- I can’t really describe the difference I see in Ari when we are all three together, but he just flourishes. I felt a little guilty taking some of that away. That said, once on the road with the music too loud for me to hear the phone ring, I let go. I relaxed. I read, I drank, I ate, I swam, I did yoga, I had the whole bed to myself and slept for 10 hours and then woke to Sunday morning tv. It was awesome.
I also thought a lot. About who I am and who I want to be someday. But largely about how, despite how tired I am at the end of the day, how lucky I am to have these two guys in my life, and how I wouldn’t choose to have it any other way. So boys. When I ask for space, or to be left alone, or for a glass of wine, by all means try to appease me. But know that I am deeply grateful and proud to call you my family. I chose you and I choose you. And even for one day, while its good to be me- just me, its hard to do without you. Thank you for giving me the space to figure that out.
(Glad you learned something too! (: I’d say its a win-win.)
Now Ari. On to your 11 month birthday tomorrow.
This last month you’ve become a Kid. Seriously. I just looked at pictures of you from every month of your life and this is it, it is now.
You point at things and try to name them. You mimic sounds. You play an endless stream of games like up and down, in and out, open and closed. You laugh when things are funny. If you are tired enough, you can even put yourself to sleep. Last night at Aunt Jossie’s birthday dinner we remembered fondly how excited we were to meet you at this time last year. You were a gem and charmed everyone, even if we did have to skip dessert (see diet) to get you to bed. Today at the playground, one of the moms spoke to you in Hebrew and you really engaged with her and knew what she was saying to you. You are getting it kid. People at cafes try to talk to you now (they’ve always talked at you, this is distinctly different) and I have to explain that you are big for your age and that you don’t talk yet. You have a way with people.
I nearly died with happiness when I saw you after being away from you for 26 hours. You just wanted big hugs from your Ima. You proceded to take your afternoon nap in my arms, something you haven’t done in a couple of months.
I hope you always have this tenderness you have about you now. Daring and independent and learning yourself, yet completely willing to ask for (not that you need to) our love. At the very least, I will always know its in there somewhere.
Impressed July 27, 2009
I’m sitting in a meeting, and someone is making a point about how you should always be able to boil your whole opinion about something down to one word.
Well, this weekend I was with Ari on my own. We sent Sara away for the weekend to the Carneros Inn, a place we’d visited together a few summers ago. She deserved a break. And we missed her the whole time, but it was also a chance to see if I could handle the challenge of 24 hours alone with the Arinaut. He was in top-notch form, at the playground, at the Cal Academy, energizer bunnying all over the place.
And the one word that kept coming to me was that I was… impressed. Impressed with how Sara does this day in and day out. Impressed with how she does it with gusto. Impressed with how she’s still coherent at the end of the day. I mean, it’s great and rewarding but also exhausting. This kid has a lot of energy, and I don’t want to be following him, I want to be matching him play for play. No wonder he takes two naps a day! Last night, I fell asleep at 9:30…
It was a hard-great weekend, and I know we’ll be repeating it.
Why we need an SLR camera July 27, 2009
Look at these shots of Ari taken while we were in Wyoming. (You need to click to see them in full glory.) You can see every grain of sand on his face…
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The Life-Changing Discovery of the Terra Linda Pool July 23, 2009
As we all have heard about 1,000 too many times, the coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco. (Many people attribute this mistakenly to Mark Twain. Its a stretch but thats not what I’m here to talk about.)
So while the weather part is true and it pretty much sucks, there is a bright light at the end of the tunnel. Its called Marin. In Marin, just over the Golden Gate, its sunny and warm. Kinda like magic. And they have a ROCKIN community pool that we San Fran mommies have been hitting up on Wednesdays to get our summer on. Its very exciting.
(I’ll get more pics of kids in the pool next time. V and Niko were in the mood, but Ari was focused on the faucet.)
We took very few pictures in Wyoming July 23, 2009
The fact of the matter is, we were there for a conference (I’m the dork with the name tag). So we had a lovely, relaxed time, but little of it alone. These were on a little hike from the main house (which incidentally was down the stream from the Cheney’s– I tried to get Roy, on his ill-fated kayaking, to head in that direction but he chickened out) to the Snake River. The Tetons are behind us.
On Grandparenting July 23, 2009
Yesterday, prompted by a blog post by my friend Heather, among other things, I got to thinking about how not only do we kids have it different than previous generations in terms of our parenting, but our parents really have it different too.
Over the last couple of months, I’ve asked my dad a lot of questions about how he and my mom managed childcare when we were little. They were in their early 20s, didn’t have a lot of money, my dad was still in school, and well, we all know how their marriage turned out. Turns out, they tried employing the grandparents, but found the process so fraught with disagreements about their parenting, that they rearranged their schedules, with one parent working the day shift and staying with me (this was before my sister was born) at night, and the other working the night shift, and staying with me during the day. I’m sure this is a) why I’m so close with my dad, who was my daytime parent and b) why their marriage lasted as long as it managed to– they never saw each other!
At any rate. Our generation of personally cautious, professionally ambitious young adults has started procreating. Later in life, further from home, without as much institutional memory as previous generations, on account of this mobility business. Unlike a lot of our parents when they were in our shoes, we have become, practically-speaking at least, independent of them.
I can see based on our experience and I hear all the time from new parents about how hard this is for the grandparents. On the one hand, they go on autopilot based on how their parents acted when they had us, on the other I think they are looking for any chance they can get to engage with our lives and our childrens lives, as they really are exploding with joy. Both of these reactions, while legitimate and understandable and loving, feel to me at least a little outdated. I am not sure what should replace them or whether anything can, other than candid conversations led by the parents (us) about what we want and how we hope to engage. It feels so formal to say, but its true– we’re older, set in our ways– we like things the way we like things, and while we hope you come along for the ride, lets be clear: its our ride. Its challenging, to say the least, to find a balance everyone feels comfortable with, where everyone has a voice, and a loving one at that.
(Note: this is not a post directed at any of Ari’s grandparents as a passive-aggressive attempt on my part to tell you something, I really did just get to thinking.)
If you want to go all second-level, fast forward to our grandkids! I’m taking notes partially to remind myself that someday this shoe will be on my foot. How will I want to act to demonstrate all my love while respecting whatever boundaries may be in place? Can I sow the seeds in such a way that encourages things one way or another, without creating undue pressure or expectations or smothering?
Good stuff, this parenting. It really does prompt all the right questions.
Coming Soon: Walking (with help), Teething and Clapping Hands July 22, 2009
(I just need to get videos of these!)
Arichives… saved! July 21, 2009
Over the weekend, in Wyoming, I fell in a stream. A shallow stream. I didn’t think I would fall in, so I left my iPhone and my Blackberry in my pockets. When they emerged, drenched (along with me), I was less upset than I thought I’d be. Mostly because I was dripping wet and grateful that only Sara and one or two other people saw me fall in… this also explains why there are no pictures of this event. But then I realized I might lose all the photos on my iPhone, the Arichives. And my secret lists (bucket and otherwise).
But, O Apple: thank you. I upgraded to the 3G S yesterday, and plugged in last night, and — lo! — all the photos returned to my phone. The secret lists, too. My homescreen, of Sara and Ari at Yosemite, returned.
So enjoy this snapshot of the miniman… 
