pillowbox

Oh the changes

So much has happened since that last post. First off we have Lucie! She is a lovely baby and I am grateful that she is healthy, calm and easy at this point because Clément has been off the hook, literally! He has grown by leaps and bounds and at the same time has become a verbal waterfall. He requires an extra bit of attention these days.

Parenting has managed to keep us on our toes, especially having a baby but also in combination a toddler. We find that with every growth spurt, a new approach is necessary. Keeping up with our toddlers physicality and also trying to encourage learning through play has meant that we are running around a lot. Tired and old but happy -we are.

I swore that Clément magically became a teenager overnight. It became obvious when returning from the hospital with a newborn. Physically, obviously, he is "big boy" but I really noticed the weight, he is SOLID. Then he surprised me when he addressed me by first name or "Mom." And basically his defiance which could be labeled terrible twos. It has come to a head lately. I'm waiting for him to ask if he can borrow the car for the night ;-). 

the long and arduous flight at Kaiser

Normally taking a break is a pretty welcome thing. I often beg for one mid-day after keeping up with a toddler. So why am I finding it so hard to rest while I pass another banal day at the Hospital, with nothing else to do but lay in bed? I have been pacing the room, trying to think of a way to convince the docs that I am fine yet another team arrives and we rehash it all over again and hours go by. we're on a plane to nowhere. and how is this healthy? i came with a fever which had since gone away. I want to go Home. The tests make me feel somewhat of a lab rat and while I try to be a good sport, I realize that I am not. suddenly imposed rest in this airplane like environment feels more like doing time in the penitentiary. My disappointment mounts the longer that I remain inactive and I miss my life and I truly miss my family. I hope to get off this flight, as soon as soon can be.

time and age and kids

Today I had a flashback to my twenties. I was living in the lower haight, working 9-5 and dancing my nights away. At the time I was a big fan of PJ Harvey and I thought that I would always listen to her music but I sort of grew out of it. Anyway, today I watched a video of PJ with Nick Cave and it reminded me of that youthful place. It was great. Music is sometimes like a tonic. 

Time has been in such a rush lately, as if time has changed and weeks are flying by like minutes. I have taken to this "Slow family movement" because I need to remember to take life moment by moment instead of these huge leaps. At one point my pregnancy seemed like such a marathon but now that we have such a short time remaining, it is sort of surreal sprint. 

Planning the birth has been different this time around since we have so many details surrounding Clément's life that need attending to. I am not so much making playlists and canning food like I did when I was expecting Clément, this time I feel more relaxed and ready to go with the flow. In a sense I know what to expect and I think that I also am less protective (or controlling) about the "mood" of the birth and stuff like that. I just want everything to work out nicely with Clément while I (we) are away at the hospital.

Thinking back to my twenties and even my early thirties, brings me to the point when Arno and I decided that we were ready to start a family. We felt it would be such a HUGE change in our lifestyle but we were game. And we really did not know what it would be like. When we had C it was a pleasant surprise and that HUGE change was not so massive or negative or anything, it was actually quite lovely. I am trying to keep that in mind. We do not have to completely alter our life in order to be parents. It is OK if we listen to PJ Harvey AND "Wheels on the bus."

No more holidays please

Spring break nearly killed me. The week is coming to an end, Friday tomorrow. If it was not the crowds upon crowds upon lines of parents (and sorry but-parents of the wrong sort) with unruly kids of all ages running everywhere then it was the loss of my free time that nabbed my energy. C missed his school as well and he has been a bit on the wild side, staying up late and testing our patience. I REALLY appreciate his time away at school not only for him to work out his energy but for his being away from me for some time- allowing me a bit of space. I look forward to Monday.

On another note, I am still pregnant. 28 weeks pregnant. However people keep acting surprised when I tell them. The weight sits differently with each woman and with each pregnancy and apparently with each gender. Since I am expecting a girl, I think that my bump is smaller than it was with C and I suppose that this is the reason for the surprise when I tell people how far along I actually am. Anyway, it does not hurt to look and feel small. No complaints, I have bragging rights because I am still wearing my pre-pregnancy jeans (they were baggy to begin with and now they are tight ;-). Our girl is still super busy in the belly.

I'm getting out there and doing things all over San Francisco. Driving has been great. I drive everywhere and enjoy the peace that it brings. It has allowed us to stay out of the house for several hours because I can plan active days out and about without depending on hubby to drive. I feel like a weight has been taken off my shoulders now that I have the ability to drive & park on my own. Hooray!

just normal stuff

 I have been enjoying our little dude so much lately. He has been more and more vocal and most of the sentences that he forms are complete, correct and clearly expressed! Of course at times he launches into his own language and also mixes French and English which is considered a normal stage in bi-lingual children. I love that he tells me, "no hit, no push. Ok?" He has a sense of confidence and authority that is really awesome. 

I have scaled back the amount of French that I speak with him and I hope that I do not regret it. I just feel that he is getting adequate amount through his school and his Papa. Although I absolutely read piles of French books to him everyday I have just been less and less in the mood to spend whole days speaking only French. For myself as well, it has been something that I have just taken a pause from. I think I need to pick up a French novel to get myself motivated.

Last night we stayed up and watched a movie! Rare around here. C stayed with us on the couch and it was OK, it was his first movie with us, and he just rested his head on the blanket alongside me. The movie was called, "Motherhood." A total flop in theaters, staring Uma Thurman. It was actually GOOD. A funny depiction of parenting life in NYC. It was typical and sometimes lame but mostly we enjoyed it! I always love to see NYC  and I laughed out loud at some scenes. C practiced pointing out, "her" and "him" and "that is his Mommy/Papa." In the movie there were some good points made, a reminder that both parents make sacrifices to have a family. I knew that though.

Our little baby girl always kicks at night. She is a little firecracker. I am enjoying her, she is an easy baby to carry and she has been a lot of fun - catching me off guard with her kicks. I have even jumped once or twice in surprise.

Like the roots of the California Oak trees, we are still here.

There are many reasons to do genealogy. The obvious: to trace personal roots and to learn more about the past. As I have discovered through this process, there is more to it than that (which I will divulge later.) Names turn into stories which lead to more questions that sit just below the surface and as we dive into history more treasures keep showing up. I am not a numbers person (except when it comes to dates.) I like facts. I despise gossip but I love a good story. Genealogy spoke to me when I realized that I could obtain accurate details of my ancestors lives and I kept going when I realized that the details & stories were interesting! The documented stories have more meaning to me than any gussied up or convoluted hogwash told by different family members over the years (and I suppose generations.) I got into looking up dates because I needed truth, I needed to know WHO came here and WHY they  came and WHEN they came and WHAT they did. Hallelujah, I have found those answers.
 
As I have learned through everything I ever have done, emotional connection is what makes us real, and it makes our stories real. To keep my project interesting I have gone off into study about particular historical details that are personally important. For example, learning more about the reasons people leave a particular place and the methods of movement they took. In my family- it was from the Highlands of Scotland (taking passage through Canada where they stopped) and eventually crossing into the United States. The voyage began with a ship and ended in covered wagons that came West. They were Pioneers. My son is the sixth generation of this family that came West to build a new life and we are still here in San Francisco, California.

 

The Yosemite link

Here is the beginning of many stories that I will post about my family. 

Sometime in the early 1920's, California.

Patricia was a Pianist. She lived in Santa Barbara and spent summers in Yosemite where her Uncle Harry Best, an established landscape painter, had an Art studio. Her cousin, Virginia was an aspiring singer and the two of them were good friends. 

In the studio there was an Old Square piano where Patricia and Virginia enjoyed making music together. Patricia enjoyed Yosemite so much that it became her permanent residence where she joined a small growing community of artists and nature preservationists.

Alex grew up in Marin County, CA. and was on the hunt for adventure when he arrived in Yosemite. He immediately found a job at the General Store and became part of the community where he would later meet and marry Patricia. These are my grandparents.

Ansel, a Pianist and Photographer from San Francisco, CA came to live in Yosemite and arrived at the studio to introduce himself. Ansel became good friends with Patricia (my grandmother) and Virginia (my grandmothers cousin) and they played music together.   

Ansel was at the studio on a regular basis, and in 1928 he married Virginia. After Harry Best passed, the Art studio became Ansel's gallery. This is the story of Virginia Best and the Great American Photographer, Ansel Adams.

 
 
 

Taking care

A number of things have been going on around here. I am nesting and that means that closets and cupboards have been completely emptied, organized and simplified. I have had quite a bit of time at home since the little guy has been sick. We are going on week three here. Fortunately there was a week of good health between viruses. This recent one has been very rough. He has ridiculous demands that we have been mostly unsuccessful at understanding. At night, we are waking every hour to screaming, despite administering medicine, despite trying every comfort method possible- he has been downright fussy and it just has been grating.

Today, after our second trip to the Dr. this week, he nearly fell asleep while eating his lunch and he has since been sleeping. It has been a three hour nap. Going from a week of his protesting naps and only sleeping for 30 minutes at a time, this is a nap that will go down in history. I think we are on the mend.

The rain has been steady in San Francisco and is another cause for our hibernation. Morning weather looks like something straight out of skii season in Switzerland and then in the afternoon the horrendous sky clears completely, the sun comes out and we have Spring.

I am trying to ease my nerves whenever possible by alternating between organizing stuff (we need to make room for this new child!) and doing absolutely nothing. Since our guy has been very healthy up until this virus, it has been sort of an eye opener to what other parents go through with sick children.

Finally, a movie night!

It has been about two years since we have gone to the theater to see a movie. Strangely enough the time has just slipped by, we just didn't go. Tonight we finally went. We caught an early screening of The Fantastic Mr. Fox. It was a blast. The film rocked as expected and the theater (the century on Market Street) was pleasant.

This day started out with a charge, I was on the phone with NY before 8am -coffee in hand, trying to seal a deal. Then, I decided it was the day to drive and that the destination would be The Discovery Museum! So I drove, without cause directly to the Museum only to find it was also the FREE day which meant crowds and school buses. But it was OK.

While prego and home, I have been determined to complete a few tasks (selling or consigning some valuable stuff) and tackle a few personal obstacles regarding phobias and procrastination. It has lit a bit of fire for me which is just what is needed to get things done. In the meantime I have also managed to make several delicious dishes from the Greens cookbook and that makes me (and to some extent the fam) quite full and proud.

Lately

Things have been pretty quiet here at Pillowbox but not because I am avoiding it but rather because my computer has been hi-jacked by my most adorable companion. True, each time I pick up my computer my toddler runs over and sits down next to me and taps along with me on the keyboard which does not work so well for blogging or email writing. So I am finding some other activities to replace my heavy computer usage. Things like getting out and about, reading (Zadie Smith and Alice Munroe at the moment), cleaning, cooking- you name it.

Well this year is coming to an end and I am beginning to think about all the changes ahead. For one, we are expecting a new baby in our life. As these months push ahead that reality will become more and more real. We are also enjoying the beautiful myriad of changes taking place in Clément's language development. He is growing before our eyes and becoming such a strong and independent little person.

Thinking back, I have always had a ritual around new years- including setting goals and working on clearing space (both mentally and physically)- but this year I feel content at simply closing up loose ends and welcoming a new year. I see it as an accomplishment, an example to me that I am completely at ease with life.

In the new decade, we have so many changes to enjoy and I can only look forward. So three cheers to 2010. Santé!

Christmas spirit

It had just rained for a week, the first rain of the season and we stayed indoors. We were prepared for the worst but the storm was never fully realized. One trip outside with the rain boots was not enough to satisfy my boys insatiable appetite for play, so I took him to the park. Despite my efforts to avoid wet sand, he went into it directly and became gloriously dirty. I dug my heels, played the nonchalant mom and simply brushed off whatever sand I could. Lesson: let them play and let them get dirty, we are only young once.

Huntington park is flanked by knobby manicured trees which are, at Christmas time, covered in muticolored lights. We stayed at the park until dusk when suddenly the lights came on all at once. Clément was thrilled and pointed at the lights with excitement. We lingered at the park and enjoyed the beauty of it all, bathed in the spirit of the season. It was serene to be the only people on the playground, at night surrounded by a multi-colored glow and I liked it. Our night stroll through the neighborhood was also lovely with the moon low and magically floating on the light fog. Everything felt simply Christmas like and I felt a hankering for Cocoa.

The park is situated directly across the street from Grace Cathedral. At each hour there is a sense of pause while the great big bell slowly rings out the hour. When I was growing up it was the tradition that we would go to Grace Cathedral as a family (including Grandma and children) for Midnight mass. It was also the tradition to take in the lights and displays before heading home to sleep. The lights in the park, the boys choir, the christmas caroling, the frankincense, the pomp and circumstance of the mass, the tradition- well it meant Christmas was near. And so, it is.

Almost

I had to drag my feet to go to work today. It was really difficult. First I greeted my Father at 8:30, as He agreed to take the boy for the morning. And I realized that after a week with my mother in law, Thanksgiving holiday, pregnancy and life with an almost two year old- I am completely exhausted. Thankfully I have one day left until I am done working for at least a month. And all I want to do is sleep. I'm so glad that it is almost December. Turn on the christmas music, light the fire - it is time to just relax.

building closeness through art

Time with my boy has been very dear as of late. It comes after a couple months of his learning to say "no" and thus becoming more independent. Not that we lost closeness at any point during those months but he now comes to me for long hugs and I feel that our communication and closeness deepened. Since he is my first child I am learning about mother and child relationships and I have been surprised by the feelings and emotions that come along with every little thing. 

Introducing Art into his life has been one very successful step toward sharing quality time together. We do Art on a daily basis. He wakes up and says, "ART." Art and language are subjects that both my husband and I are very much involved with and something that we absolutely love to share with our son. So his enthusiasm about it is really terrific. He has his own way of doing things, he traces every single thing. He brings me objects big and small to trace. He has a need for precision with his drawings which is pretty much the opposite for me, someone who likes art that is both chaotic and layered. Art for me includes conflict and resolution- one big mess, from which beauty or elegance emerges. Art seems for him, a way to define and control objects through shape, creation and duplication. 

When we started out, he hated to have messy hands but he has grown to understand that they will soon enough be clean. Chalk was something he had to grow into but now he asks for it. We have worked hard to get him into a Preschool where he will be able to continue doing art and language but in a collaborative environment with teacher led direction. I am bubbling over with excitement to see how he will grow in that context. In the meantime he is happy creating little worlds of expression, talking and singing while drawing.

joy and love, regardless

One of the first decisions that we had to make as parents was during the second trimester of the pregnancy. It was weather or not we would want to know if our child had any degenerative diseases or disorders. The decision was very important because If it were discovered that the fetus had Down syndrome for example we could choose to terminate the pregnancy at that point. It was an invasive test and that was one of the reasons that it was an optional screening. 

We choose not to take it. not only because of the risks that it would pose to the fetus but because there was something, we felt, very wrong about terminating a wanted pregnancy. It was a heavy question, one that made us reflect on our true intentions about bringing life into this world. It was without question that we would love our child regardless. One of the first things that we did when we saw our son was count his fingers and toes, do not ask me why. We were so happy that he was born healthy! 

Throughout the pregnancy and into the first year of our sons life we lived at the top of a hill, next door to a couple. One day, they proudly announced that they were pregnant. We moved a short distance away before their baby was born and I saw them around the neighborhood but only from a distance. Each time that I saw them with the stroller, I imagined that they were experiencing something close to what we were experiencing with our son. 

Finally my husband met up with them on the street and met their son. We learned that their baby had been born with Down Syndrome and had had heart surgery at five months old. My reaction to that news was telling. I refuse to take anything for granted and believe that as parents we all experience joy and love, regardless. 

the heart grows

It was early October. I had just finished a day of work. At the time I wore a uniform, a simple black tee with a cat & dog logo. Fall semester had started and when I finished class at the University I worked for an animal shelter but it could have easily been volunteer work since the pay was small change. I felt good about what I was doing. 

My ride home on the MUNI bus always ended with a walk down Clay Street. Upon leaving the bus that evening, I picked up the pace until I saw someone clinging to a wall. It was getting cold and dark and somehow home seemed a little further away. I had my attention set on the distance and nearly lost sight of what was in front of me. An elderly man, trying to get home too.

The effort it takes to accomplish simple things in a reasonable amount of time is sometimes taken for granted. I was reminded of this and how close to home I really was when I met that peculiar man on Clay Street. He took baby steps while scaling the walls of the Victorian buildings in order to walk a short distance. His legs were stiff and he moved at the pace of a snail. Impeccably dressed in a fine tweed suit, he did not seem the type to loiter. I stopped, waited a moment and offered him my assistance. Out of breath he whispered that he had a heart condition. I stood with him a while and then we walked together  "arm in arm" at a snails pace to his home- a long block away. 

It took an eternity. During that time, we shared stories. Mine were about the animal shelter and  his were about his late Father in Hungary. He also told me about his wife and his career -a detective for the CIA. In return for the kind deed he gave me a silver coin which was supposedly "special". Thinking of him now, years later I still regret using it to pay for cab fare one night. I suppose I received much more from that brief encounter anyway. 

From Ruts to weeds

rut (noun) a long deep track made by the repeated passage of wheels of vehicles.

Things Change. This should be inscribed in my brain by now but I keep learning this fact of life. We see things change everyday but I still am surprised by it and it just goes to show how easy it is to get stuck in a rut. 

So, I have been visiting the same nail salon for about ten years. Will I go elsewhere? Only with the combination of dire need and a frown. Well, I went there (as usual) the other day while the little guy napped and I was handed a business card and told that the place is now, "appointment only." I was stunned and hurt that after ten years of loyalty I would be treated with such harshness but I took the card, threw it in the trash and returned a week later without an appointment and prepared for anything. It was sort of a test. And I was not surprised that when I walked in the door I was told to, "pick a color" and then informed that it would be a short wait, so I sat down and started to read the paper. Twenty minutes later (and that was about as long as I was willing to wait) I was told that it would be another twenty. This confirmed it, I walked out and vowed never to return. The place had changed, it was no longer quick and friendly. I went down the street to a different place. Small things are big things.

Then I realized that a rut is something that can be extended to businesses we frequent, foods, routines- sometimes a little change is all it takes to bring some color into life and when I accepted that fact (while admiring my rather nice mani/pedi from the OTHER salon) I felt that freshness just flooding into my life in a good way.  

So like a tornado in Kansas, something whipped me up and turned me around and now I am thankful and I realize that I had been stagnant, it is ME who is changing. However, while things change for the better, some things fall apart -like my garden. Instead of fretting over it, I am trying to look at it another way.

back in a flash

Dear lovely readers, My blog has taken the backseat while I enjoy the breathtaking beauty of the City. I will be back in a flash.

Happy "almost" Fall

Now that it is nearly Fall, school is back in session, leaves are falling, the air has a tiny bite in the evenings, making butternut squash soup and I am back at work. Thankfully "Work" is down the street and my students are delightful. I am starting this Fall on the right foot. 

Glad

Within everyday there are the usual things, and sometimes there is a little stress (which I think is healthy). It is good to remember that everyday is made up of moments and beauty. And it is sitting there waiting to be found, seen ,heard and felt. I'm glad for this.