Random quote and unrelated photos of the week

Well, I really think he shatters the myth of white supremacy once and for all.

Representative Charles Rangel (D-NY)
in response to a question asking what he thinks about President Bush.

Real Moms

So Mo tagged me with the "Real Moms" meme, and while struggling with what to say, I took a shower and Bingo! Inspiration. But not like you think. In the shower I started to think about the dinner I was going to have, at a nice restaurant, thanks to the wonderful Ellen and Jiro (and their Ada-sitting generosity). The dinner, by the way, was fantastic. Highly recommended, especially when you can get someone else to foot the bill. But about that shower.

I was in the shower because I'd just come from a hair appointment. I love my stylist, but in an attempt to accentuate what curls I have, she'd managed to give me a bit of an evil clown look. Ok, maybe not quite that bad, but there was a definite bump around the ear area.

So, here's what I came up with (once the water had sufficiently calmed my post-hairstyle panic):

Real Moms Ask For Help

This seems like a no-brainer, but it is one of the hardest things for me. Before I had Ada, I had no idea this would be difficult. Of course I'd ask for help! My friends and I had always been there for each other, so why would this be different? But even when you desperately need help, it is harder than you'd think to ask for it.

I still kick myself for not demanding to help Ellen more in the first few months of Monkey Boy's life. Only by seeing how amazingly generous she was with her time and energy did I understand what I should have done for her. (Shut it Ellen, I can wish I had known what to do.) Her help, and the help of numerous other friends and family, it made all the difference to me. I am so lucky that people (like my sister) volunteered to visit regularly, or brought me food, or let me borrow baby items I had not realized I'd need or want. That whole village thing, they weren't kidding about that. You get the idea.

When I had Ada, Ellen's help, and the help of numerous other friends and family, made all the difference to me. I am so lucky that people (like my sister) visited regularly, brought me food, walked the girl while I slept, and let me borrow baby items I had not realized I'd need or want. That whole village thing, they weren't kidding about that.

Now that I know, I try to offer help when I can. It seems so obvious now that moms (new and not so new) need help. This is not because my friends are not capable, but because the task of being a parent is so large and unending. And now that I know, I realize that other people see how necessary the help is. I am working on being better about asking for help when I need it.

And speaking of help, I needed it today.

Ada was driving me up a wall with her toddler ways. The whining was especially grinding, making me ready to flee the house even before Chris left at 8:30 this morning. It was all I could do to tolerate her all morning. Nurturing was pretty much out of the question. Of course on the day I need the time without her, she naps restlessly and wakes early, before my (required, demanded) alone time is "up." My time to write this, and to prepare for work tomorrow and to drink tea and be still. Especially on a day that has already felt so hard, I want time alone. Or at least I want to not spend more time alone with her. And since I used nap time to start this post on how key it is to ask for help, I vowed to reach out.

I called Ellen. But even after all this considering, it was hard to take her help. It was hard because she offered more than I'd planned on getting. I called her figuring I'd ask to come over so that Ada and I would not be alone together. She told me to leave Ada with her. Which is great, except that I know her plan A was a nap. So I feel guilty. But lovely Ellen refused to let me say no. It is embarrassingly hard to say yes, thanks, I will take this free time. It is hard to admit that I need it, and scary to take free time without a plan "worthy" of the space. But plan-free, here I am. Sitting at my dining room table typing, considering whether to prepare for tomorrow or to read my novel. Maybe a little of both. Or nothing. Drinking tea and being still are okay too.

Maybe I am not the poster child for asking for help. But whenever I do I am glad I have asked. And getting more than I've asked for is a lovely bonus. Give it a try, you might be surprised by the result.

** ** **

Oh right, the tagging part. Laurie and dodo, feel free to take this up if you'd like. No pressure.

In the mean time...

I am working on several real posts, including one responding to Mother-Woman's call for me to participate in the "real moms" meme, a post with some navel gazing, and some other stuff. But today I am working, and I really need to prepare for a presnentation. Plus I have to finish putting together a hagaddah for passover at my house next week. And there is some gardening to do. And I found some cool things to stencil. So here's what you get instead of real writing: thanks to a cool tool from dumpr I can seem my photos hung in museums!


It looks like they have some other interesting toys as well. Worth checking out.

Oh, and while I am sharing, I thought I'd tell you that while there is a ton of great stuff on youtube for kids (Ada continuously asks for the Sesame Street segment in which a girl takes her llama to the dentist), the following SS animation made her cry. She did have a fever at the time, but even in a healthy state, it is kind of sad and scary. Chris cried too, when I told him about the video and Ada's response.

Thanks for hanging in there while I procrastinate ruminate.

Random quote and unrelated photo of the week

I had some dreams,
They were clouds in my coffee.

Carly Simon

Must have been the pollen in my eyes

I walk out of the house, leaving Ada elbow deep in puzzle pieces and half learned nursery rhymes. I get into the car after admiring our newly tilled garden. There is a blast of Neko Case from the cd player, and I leave the disk in even though I am kind of a news junkie.

I back the car out of the driveway and head down the street, listening to Neko and feeling weirdly elated. I drive along 12th, where all the cherry trees are in bloom, and suddenly the size of my heart triples. The image is worn, but apt.

I turn onto Powell, and over the Ross Island Bridge the sun comes out. Again, I am feeling the particular joy of early spring. I've found one of those moments of where the world is so perfect, and here I am in it. And, well, I'm driving, so the moment doesn't stop me in my tracks, but it feels like that.

Heading up the hill, listening to Neko and singing, I start crying, sure that the drivers of the jeep from Minnesota and the biodiesel Volvo wonder about the tears streaming down my cheeks while I belt out a tune they can't hear.

And on to Salem.

Kelly, Mint and Forest

In honor of St. Patrick's day - I am wearing green. Green with envy, that is.

Here's what makes me feel jealous:

• A grad school friend with a high profile job;
• You get more hits than me;
• That friend who is pregnant again, and so easily;
• Why doesn't my hair ever look as good as hers?
• Being a little fish blogger, I sometimes won't write about something because I know the big fish are going to write about it and get much more attention for it.
  
• The coolest shoes are so much harder to find in size 9;
• How does she have such willpower?
  

So now I want to know, what are you jealous about? Don't leave me feeling that I'm the only one.

Random quote and unrelated photo of the week

When leaving a tip at the counter, I often do so with exaggerated gesturess, or take a bit longer than necessary to place the dollar in the dish, just to make sure they know what a nice and generous customer I am.

Amy Krouse Rosenthal
Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life

The elephant in the room

In December I got talked into taking a class to learn to make felt elephants. I'm glad I went, because it was a fun project and very easy, even for the sewing-challenged such as myself. I liked it so much that I made a second one for a new baby I know.


The photo is purposely fuzzy, in an attempt to hide the poor stitching on the first (orange) elephant. Her newer, blue friend is a bit better crafted, and I learned not to over-stuff the animal. I just learned that the woman who designed the elephant pattern is going to make a pig pattern, and I can't wait. In the mean time, I am working on using my new-found blanket stitch skills to edge a bib made from a scrap of oil cloth. I am a complete oil cloth addict, and own several items from Love Shine. Now that I live on the west coast and it is less convenient to pop over to New York for the weekend, I'm reduced to making my own bags, etc. To wit:


This is a work in progress; I need to finish the stitch around the outside, and add some velcro to the top.

Oil cloth is fantastic. It doesn't unravel, it repels water (and food), it comes in amazing colors and patterns. If it was a little less stiff, I would make a whole oil cloth wardrobe for myself.

And because I think it is so cool, I wanted to show you the felt board that my mother-in-law made for Ada:


Why didn't I think of this? Why didn't you think of this and tell me about it?

Random quote and unrelated photo of the week

Loaded down with a kind of lightness, a cargo of imagery and simile, the bus of books grunts forward and turns west onto Highway 68.

Dan Barry
Taking Books Far and Wide, on the Road Less Traveled By

stop tantalizing my eye

Or, why it is good that I only work in the office one day a week.

I am not built for cubicle life – my hearing is too good and my distractability too great. Yesterday I was dutifully crafting a Question and Answer sheet, when I heard one of my coworkers call out "stop tantalizing my eye!" Anxious as I was to get something done before I left for the day, I used all my personal strength to not get up and ask what the hell she was talking about.

Another reason to avoid the office is the gross candies someone left in our shared food area. Oh, and I have no willpower. A couple weeks ago I ate something called “hot stinky feet.” Thankfully they did not taste like any kind of feet, but they weren’t hot either, so the truth in advertising quota was pretty low. I suspect they were left over from Halloween, circa 1987.

Random quote and unrelated photo of the week

Ms. Zohn said being married bicoastals poses a variety of challenges, not the least of which is explaining the situation. "My parents don't really understand it," she said. "They have one of those traditional 'live in the same state' kind of marriages."

Robin Epstein

loss

A friend emailed me to tell me she'd miscarried. I am so devastated for her. I want to be with her, to bring her tea and cry with her and to do all the things I would want someone to do for me. I don't even know that she'd want those things. From here, all I can do is tell her how sad I am, how awful it is, and how much I love her.

Her loss is real and cruel. When we last talked she had just started to feel more confident about the pregnancy. Having experienced the loss of Ada's two uterus-mates, I have only a small glimpse of what my friend is feeling. My heart goes out to her and my tears fall.

Size Matters

In December I found out how easy it is to stencil designs onto shirts. Free stencils are available online, and the process is so easy Ada could do it, if I let her use a hot iron.

I made a bunch of shirts for friends and family, including these for my sister and her man:


(I got on a little bird kick, so a bunch of people got avian-themed items.) I was so excited about them that I almost posted photos before the package got to my sister. Which turns out would have been a mistake, since she does occasionally check in, which I didn't realize, fa fa fa. Anyway, the gift seemed to go over well, except for the part where I took my sister's input about her guy's size to heart, buying him men's mediums, which turned out to be too small.

But now I've wised up, and I got Ellen and our pal Janeen to give me shirts. I stenciled them and will return them, happy in the knowledge that they will actually fit:




I am especially happy with the drummer. The line drawings tend to come out well; I made a great stencil from a book about flight, but since it is in Ada's room and she's sleeping, we'll have to do without a photo of that one.

(If you are reading this K, send me one in the guy's real size. I have another airplane drawing I want to stencil. Or maybe a robot, riding a dinosaur. Evil squid?)

Updated to add links: Try this tutorial from Angry Chicken, or search Craftster for some examples.

Happy Protector of Motherland Day (Russia)

It's also:

• National Day (Brunei)
  
• National Banana Bread Day
  
• Johannes Gutenberg's Birthday
  
• National Dog Biscuit Appreciation Day

Oh, right, and Chris's birthday!

As Ada says, Happy Birthday Baby! You have our hearts.

Random quote and unrelated photo of the week

The conversation is light and not labor intensive, one of those comfortable back-and-forths during which it doesn't much matter who says what. We're two new friends putting each other at ease.

You like Alexander Calder? Me too. You play ukulele? I love ukulele - sort of. Nabokov? "Lolita" is so dark and hilarious. Grilled Swiss? Me too.

Andy Christie
Modern Love; She Handed Me a Cup From the Fountain of Youth

Trains, Planes and Automobiles

Or in this case, aerial trams, buses and MAX trains.

When I started this post it somehow eluded me that none of these pictures were actually taken ON a tram, bus or max train, but only while we were waiting for them. We took a tram ride in the evening, so though I actually took pictures from the tram, they came out a bit dark and fuzzy.

I recommend taking a child on the tram, but maybe not right at dinner-time. Ada liked the ride the first time, but wailed and screamed was then less than thrilled when we boarded for a second ride. Oops. Nothing that some soothing from Ellen and a couple of mini-cupcakes couldn't fix, apparently.

I didn't take pictures on the bus or max rides. I'd like to say it was just because Ada was sitting on my lap, but really it was mainly because I didn't want to look like a tourist. Yep, I'm that vain. I am a born and bred city-dweller who was embarrassed to appear new to public transit. Dumb, but somewhere in me is my 14 year old bus-riding self, wanting credit for navigating the city alone, both proud and sheepish to be without a more elegant form of transport.

Ada does not have any such concerns with looking cool on public transit. And while we are on the subject of cool, would anyone disagree that trains are way cooler than buses? When I have lived in places with both, I've always preferred the train, even when it means I have to walk a couple of extra blocks. But back to Ada. When Ada and I are in the car, she bus-spots. Having spied one, she calls out "bus! on! on!," leaving me to explain that since we are already in the car, maybe we'll save the bus for another time.

Given how exciting it is to see a bus, you can imagine what a treat it is for Ada to actually on board one? What could be better? First there is the waiting at the bus stop, though thankfully not for too long. Portland has lots of bus lines that run every 15 minutes, so even though I always manage to walk up to our stop just after a bus has pulled away, the wait has not yet outlasted Ada's patience. Much.

Once on the bus, Ada settles into my lap to check out the scene. She is drawn to the homeless men and the folks boarding the bus outside the methadone clinic down the road. So far that has been fine, as the other riders tend to be engaged in their conversations about where to get a decent coat or why they got fired from their last job, or at least friendly and kind to my inquisitive girl. On the trip downtown, Ada is pretty quiet, until we near the bridge. Then the whole bus gets an earful of Bridge! Bridge!, which in Ada-speak sounds more like her accusing me of being a puppy's mother.

After a few loops around downtown (or even over a bridge or two) on the max train, I sense it is time to head home. This is usually the point at which it starts raining, hard.

On the ride home, Ada's comfort level has increased greatly. She's usually a bit tired, but that just elevates her mood, as she jumps and yells in a gleeful pre-crash frenzy. She wants to pull the cord that signals someone wants to get off. She wants to wander the aisle. She wants to break free of her mama and cozy up to other passengers. Maybe she suspects they've got snacks.

Hoo Ha?

Because I know you just can't get enough crotch talk, I saw this recently about referring to the Vagina Monologues by another name.

I actually turned down an invite to see the Vagina Monologues (or should we be saying Vulva Monologues, as was suggested by a commentor on my last female genetalia post?). I've heard mixed things about the show, but would have gone if it had not conflicted with plans to take Chris to hear Neko Case and Merle Haggard play this weekend. Yes, for my husband's birthday we went to a Hag concert. We are old and dorky. Actually, we went for Neko, who if you don't know about, you should. Chris and I have both had a little crush on her for a few years. Plus, she's on the list of people he's allowed to sleep with if given the chance. Heck, she might be on my list too.

Good Hair Day

Random quote and unrelated photo of the week

Yes, we talked about cutting down on our red-meat consumption; yes, we recoiled in horror at tales of slaughterhouse abuses; yes, we admired stir-fries and noodle dishes flavored with no more than a few shreds of beef or pork. Then we went out and ordered a 16-ounce prime rib eye, charred rare, with a side of hash browns.

Colman Andrews
Steak, Well Done

Four Cups