Friday, February 13, 2004
This last week has been particularly hectic, with lots of time spent preparing for upcoming transitions. But it hasn’t been all suck. Some recent highlights:
Last weekend my folks loaned us the infamous DaVinci Code…loved by the masses, loathed by some librarians (as “airport fiction”, it’s been likened to a cheap knockoff of Foucault’s Pendulum, which I’ve been meaning to re-read). I’ll admit to enjoying this John Grisham-style page-turner. And hey, what could be more fitting than to read a tale of the Knights Templar on Friday the 13th?
Picking up our friends at the airport the other night. We were delighted to discover they’d carried on some vegan cake for us, from Gianna’s Grille in Philadelphia…which they described as vegan junk food heaven. I’d love to try their cheesesteaks, “beefy mac” pizza, lasagna, cheesecake, and cannolis. Mmmm.
Running errands with the little man the other day. He enjoyed a song that had been playing on Radio K. When it finished he started humming loudly, but briefly interrupted himself to announce “Mom, I’m making crazy music!”
Yesterday afternoon the husband whipped up a batch of cookies before we headed to his folks’ house for dinner. I was serving myself some beverage in the kitchen as he prepared the double chocolate chip delights. He determined the batter was too dry, so while adding a little water to it he announced “she’s a tricky mistress, cookie dough”. I nearly squirted soy milk out my nose.
Last night my mother-in-law busted out a Hot Wheels Ferrari Test Trax set after dinner. The little man could hardly contain his excitment while the husband assembled it. But once it was ready to go I couldn’t tell which of my boys enjoyed it more.
Finding amazing side-by side photos of Debbie Harry and Iggy Pop, via Kottke. Now I want the book they’re from, New York in the 70s, by photographer Allan Tannenbaum.
Oh, and I got the job. I start Monday. For weird.
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Wednesday, February 11, 2004
Like most children his age, the little man is into routine. Routine can be comforting, but he’s flexible…every now and then he’ll mix things up. He used to wake up and wait quietly in his room until mommy got up. These days he’s too impatient for that. He barges into my room, jumps into my bed and attempts to wrassle me awake. After this, uh, enjoyable step has been completed we go back to his room…so that he can get dressed for the day (he dresses himself, but for some reason I have to be present). Then it’s downstairs for breakfast. He’s added a strange quirk though. After he’s had his fill he does something rather odd. He strips off his “regular” clothes, and changes into a monkey suit. No, not a tuxedo…an actual monkey suit. It was his Halloween costume. In 2002. It’s a bit snug here and there, as you might imagine. But the polar fleece is soft and warm. And it amuses him to no end to prance around in it while mommy gushes over her cute little monkey. I’d better enjoy it while I can. I doubt things will be quite the same when he’s a teenager.
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Wednesday, February 11, 2004
February has, inadvertently, become the month of little man photos. Well, every month is to an extent, but this one more so than others. I’m guessing it’s because the separation anxiety is kicking in. Monday he’s slated to start afternoon pre-school, and I may or may not start a part-time job the very same day. I interview for the position tomorrow, and that’s a whole ‘nother kind of anxiety. And while the hours, location, and duties are perfect…the pay could be better. Naturally. At any rate, yawl have borne witness to my habit…of frequently photographing my son over the years. But I have actually photographed other subjects. One of my all-time favorite macro shots was posted at Lalaland the other day. And it turns out I’m not the only slacker when it comes to holiday photos…but I’m going to get into gear. Rebecky posted hers today. So here we go with mine, though they may be less exciting (and yes, there are little man photos included, but just a few). Click here or on the photo below to launch the gallery.
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Tuesday, February 10, 2004
Last night my life passed before my eyes. Some time ago the husband had backed up the bulk of my photos, from the last five or six years. Yesterday we got to talking about the little man as a baby. The husband missed out on a good chunk of his babyhood, as he hadn’t yet enlisted with our little unit. He wasn’t even living in the state. So he set up a little slideshow on his PC and started to click through…from the little man’s early days to the present. We watched the seasons change, a few old boyfriends making brief appearances, my hair’s various metamorphoses, and, most importantly, the little man growing up. It must have been strange for him as he watched with us. He doesn’t quite recognize his baby self…he seems confused, seeing his own mini-me being held by folks he does recognize, like mom and members of our extended family (close friends included in this category), and in familiar settings. He does readily identify his toddler self, though, and even has memories associated with the photos. Memories sometimes clearer than my own.
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So one might wonder what the below photos have in common. Well, they are connected by my sheer brilliance. I was a little nervous this afternoon, before our scheduled meeting with the little man’s new pre-school teacher. So what did I do? Well, I got us both sugared up on root beer floats (the husband declined to partake). Great way to make a first impression, you know. I needn’t have worried, though. The classroom is much like the one we visit weekly at ECFE, except without the parents in attendance. We hit it off with the teachers, assistants and other kids. The little man jumped right in during circle time, and then for open playtime. Except he hadn’t gotten to know anyone’s names yet…so took to beckoning others by shouting “little kid” or “hey lady”. He was so into the groove that when classtime was over he was ready to get on the school bus with the other children…and even seemed disappointed by the prospect of riding home in the car with us.
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Dagnabit, I’m always a day late and a dollar short. Even though I was just there on Saturday, I was completely oblivious…to the ongoing Guy Maddin retrospective at the Walker Art Center. Unfortunately I’ve already missed the Isabella Rossellini film that played last Wednesday. We also skipped out on this past weekend’s MONDO juggling festival. I know the little man would have enjoyed it (much more than I would have), but we were too busy taking care of the nitty gritty of daily life. I’m determined not to miss out on everything however. Next weekend the husband and I are planning to take my folks on a little adventure. They rarely make it to the big city (Minneapolis seems so dinky to me, especially after visiting real cities…they really need to get out more). And that’s just as well, as my stepmother used to make my Dad carry his police revolver with him to such “sketchy” venues as the Target Center. But frequently theaters in Minneapolis are the only ones in the area showing the films they’d like to see. So we’ll be taking them to The Triplets of Belleville. With the added bonus of Destino, “the lost collaboration between Walt Disney and Salvador Dali”, screening beforehand. That should be quite interesting.
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Yesterday was a bit surreal. I felt, strangely, like a good little housefrau. Early on I ran errands with the little man. In the afternoon we picked up the husband and headed to the suburbs. After a visit with my folks we went on to Fleet Farm, of all places, where I bought the husband some work pants (now I’m thinking I should have gotten him a Utilikilt instead). When we got home I whipped up some hot dish. It was vegan-style, natch, but still…what is happening to me? At least I finished up the day not by washing dishes, or taking on some other tedious chore, but by reading some borrowed Elfquest comics and honing my solo Scrabble skills. Sigh.
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Saturday, February 7, 2004
The cities have turned to slush today (I don’t mind when the snow gets all melty, but I worry when it turns all freezy again). But that didn’t keep us from our plans. We slogged through sloppy roads and sidewalks, determined to get to our destinations. The little man was adamant about eating the promised pancakes. Which we did, though slightly later than intended. The place was hopping but we were served quickly. After eating our fill we sat together in the art corner, to make Valentine’s Day cards for political prisoners. There were a couple of little girls already at the table, and then we were joined by a few grown-up ones as well. A chance remark by one caught my attention. I spoke up, mentioning my own Scrabble addiction (that the husband, unfortunately, does not share). Turns out they partake on a regular basis, and in public places. One even invited me to join in some time. Email addresses were exchanged, so hopefully I will get a chance to. Then it was on to the Walker. We were too late for the 11am “Singing Story Hour” (that was, apparently, a big hit) so we strolled through the gift shop instead, waiting for the noon event. Since the place is shutting down soon they’re trying to clear out their inventory. Managed to score myself some swag at 70% off, but I didn’t go overboard. I spent just $16 and picked up an oversized roll of super-cool double-sided wrapping paper, plus three children’s books. Two for the little man, the third for myself. When it was time to enter the auditorium we were able to meet up with some ECFE classmates of ours, which was very cool. Expectations were high as the past few months we’ve been treated to happy funtime cartoons. The Walker’s web site was misleadingly upbeat about today’s offering:
“Come and join the expedition! Follow some young adventurers on a wild and wonderful journey into the unknown.”
While the little man enjoyed the opening sequences of horses being herded in the countryside, we hadn’t expected to also see their frozen carcasses strewn about, being picked over by dogs. It turned out to be a gritty, documentary style short film about homeless children in Mongolia…who flee to the city after their families’ livelihoods are destroyed by storms. These kids sleep in sewers or get drunk and pass out in the streets, and often turn to prostitution to feed themselves. Not quite what I had in mind for my four year-old to be watching (and quite different from last Saturday’s matinee of Elf). I was interested in watching more, depressing as it was, but not with the little man…or a roomful of other equally confused three and four year-olds.
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If you are in the area tomorrow morning you should loan your belly to a worthy cause. Here’s the info:
Women’s Prison Book Project
5th Annual Pancake Breakfast Fundraiser
Saturday, February 7, 8am-Noon.
Walker Community Church, 3104 16th Ave S Minneapolis
$6 adults, $3 children.
All the buttermilk or vegan pancakes you can eat, plus fruit salad, grits, coffee, tea, and juice.
All proceeds benefit The Women’s Prison Book Project (WPBP). WPBP is an all-volunteer organization that sends free books and resources to women in prison all over the United States. We do this work to empower women in prison and to help build connections between both sides of the prison wall.
You should go, and spread the word. The little man and I will be attending, as we have every year (he was in utero the first year, so his pancakes were free that time). Afterwards we’re heading to the final family day at the Walker *sniff sniff* before the building is shut down for renovation. I know the end result will be breathtaking and all (and hey, there will finally be a decent place to park) but what will we do the first Saturday of every month until it reopens? Well, apparently there will be a few free first Saturday events in the Sculpture Garden, starting in May, promising “bigger-than-ever family fun”. That helps. Especially thinking about what the Sculpture Garden is like in the Spring. All blue skies with puffy white clouds, and green green grass. Sigh. And just look how much littler the little man was in this photo. That was nearly four years ago. Crazy.
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Thursday, February 5, 2004
The husband isn’t the most overtly romantic person, but it’s all good. We don’t quite fit into conventional gender roles. I’m the one with the comic book predilection. He’s been known to wear skirts. We have never celebrated Valentine’s Day together. We don’t wear (or own) wedding rings. And he never did bring me flowers. But every now and then he surprises me with something super sweet (aside from his amazing apple galettes), that shows how well he really knows me. Today I woke up to find a folder labeled “the reason you get up in the morning” smack dab in the middle of my desktop. In it was a local copy of the Scrabble game I’ve become so addicted to, but was unable to access yesterday…as the site had temporarily exceeded its bandwidth limit. The husband had seen how badly I was jonesing for it, so after midnight he pulled up the site and copied down the files for me. Finding it (even more than playing it) made my day.
