earth hour = lovely blip in time

We had the lights off and a single Method lavender lemongrass candle burning while watching "Mulan" on tv. Which, yes, sort of defeats the purpose, but laying in the big bed with the kids snuggled in on either side in the semi-darkness made for a cozy, lazy, winding down moment. We don't get enough of those.

I have been thinking about memory and what we retain from our childhoods. What would my two remember? Would they specifically remember that moment of warmth and love, or perhaps an impression of that coziness? Am I doing enough to create those positive memories? I am astounded by how much Z remembers from being three and heartened that they are primarily good memories - having ice cream, going to the playground, playing in the backyard of the Chicago house, her bedroom there, making snow angels. I can't shield her or O from the necessary components of growing up, though. Eventually, they will encounter grave disappointment, heartbreak, and loss. But from their positive memories, I hope they develop a foundation of trust in me, that they know that I would not turn them away or judge when unhappiness occurs.

Today was filled with loving moments as well as impatience and anger - all in a day's work when you're alone with two highly energetic children. At the end of the day, we came back to love in the form of snuggling on the bed, O kicking me sporadically. 

school, glorious school

The dust has settled. We got our first choice public school and were waitpooled on all four of the privates to which we applied. Happy, of course, that we have a solid school in pocket, but a little sad about losing the chance for a unique educational experience for Z and O, at least in the elementary years. People have tried to be upbeat and reassuring that the waitlists could clear over the summer, but I see this one opportunity dimming. We'll try again for middle school, but it will be no less difficult, if not more so.

I was seduced by the offerings from the privates. Beautiful campuses, warmth and a sense of community, a fully-loaded curriculum, and - if I had to be honest - a chance to give my kids a leg up in the world. It was a glimpse into an entirely different experience that neither D nor I had as children. It was a gift we wanted to give Z and O, and it was frustrating that we couldn't pull it off. 

We're being philosophical; God is pointing us toward the public. To reinforce that notion, there is a preschool next to the school's campus. I'm touring it in a few weeks, and if my gut says go, I'm submitting an application for O. The ability to minimize the impact of the double drop-off/pick-up is infinitely valuable.

I'm trying to not see this as a closed door but a turn in the road. It's hard not to feel a sense of loss, though. I'm wondering if the mere fact that my older baby is starting kindergarten in a few months is the root of my emotional reaction to the process. 

In the meantime, I'm indulging in fantasies of volunteering in the school library and chaperoning field trips.

work + parenting

I work full-time in a challenging job that by turns exhilarates and exhausts me. I am constantly terrified of screwing up. I have a deathly fear of failure, which I'm trying to get over because paralysis is not an option. 

And yes, I'm talking about both Career Job and parenting the minis.

Being a mother and working outside the home is tough. I have a compulsion to push myself, and it generally backfires on me. There are times when I feel that neither realms are getting the attention they need because I'm being pulled one way or the other. Eventually, everyone's annoyed, and I want to go fetal for a week.

The one lesson I'm learning is that I need to dial back and focus. Instead of doing 20 things, take 10 of those and do them very well. I can't get my act together to bake cookies from scratch with the minis, but I can read books until I'm hoarse. I'm not the most creative brainstormer, but I can ask people about their work and go deep with my understanding of that work. 

Now I need to get off my arse and do it.

her work

I gave Z one of my file folders in an attempt to corral all of the paper she generates. It's a sage green folder that I got during one of the Paper Source warehouse sales (and reason #59 why I miss Chicago). These include half-finished coloring pages and worksheets; she's taken to calling these her work. O accidentally found her notebook, another bargain though from Barnes and Noble, so between the worksheets and filling up the notebook pages, she's got a lot to do. 

Her preferred media is ink. She found some gel pens that I had purchased a couple of years ago so I could write on chocolate brown envelopes for some holiday cards or something, and she has a rather large carousel of Crayola markers at her disposal. 

Watching her work reassures me that she'll be able to do many things when she's older. My job is to remember to leave her alone and let her explore and make her own mistakes. 

a beautiful moment

Both kids are napping, both cats are napping, and I can hear the wind whooshing through the trees in the backyard. It's an all too rare moment of stillness in the house. I'm enjoying it by being quiet and still myself.

And apparently my very loud typing (my computer is in the master bedroom, where Z was crashed out) has now woken up the Z. She's happily eating an apple and two Bonbel circle cheeses for a snack.

this can't be a coincidence

Two bands that I currently dig have distinctly '80s vibes to them. Like this band that sounds like a mashup of The Cure and The Smiths, and a few dudes who put out synth-y, New Wave dance pop.

I likes both a lot. 

no cliches

but it's an awe-inspiring thought that my children will remember Barack Obama as the first of many presidents in their lives. It makes me misty with joy and trepidation. And I'm proud that I did my tiny share by way of tiny, tiny donations and voting. I even dragged the kids with me to the polls, during the primaries and election night. If they need to remember my crazy moments and that being one of them, hell, I'll take it.

trying not to overthink it

Z is in the playdate phase of the private school admissions process. My gut tells me that she's been doing well and that all we need to do now is sit back and wait until March to see what the results are. My brain, however, enjoys tormenting me with thoughts like "this is a waste of time", "we have no chance" and "she will be miserable here and tell you daily as you're bleeding money for the tuition and extras".

My gut tells me that the decision will be obvious and easy; the right school will be made beautifully clear to us. Clarity of the path has been a hallmark of the major decisions that I've made. But try telling my mind that.

birthday festivities

It's that time of year again. We weren't planning on having a party for Z but did anyway. It was on the 28th (coincidentally her due date), and thankfully we had a great turnout even though having a party during the winter break is a risky endeavor. The last thing you'd want to do is scar a child for life by throwing a party where no one came.

The cake was an ice cream cake from Baskin-Robbins. Classic was the way to go - chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream. I try to stay away from themed or branded birthdays, but I couldn't resist getting some Curious George paper goods and masks in lieu of hats.

Really, she did like it. Our current favorite nighttime reading material includes "Curious George Learns the Alphabet".

And what's a birthday post without some cake eating?

photos courtesy of Derrick Wong

new year's eve supper

I was going for a good luck theme:

La Brea Bakery french baguette

Trader Joe's spinach  + artichoke dip

cioppino courtesy of Whole Foods

scampi

deep fried fish stick things for the kids, also courtesy of Whole Foods

very quickly sauteed savoy cabbage with a dash of soy sauce and rice wine

rice pilaf with lentils, Whole Foods rice mix in a box, but hey, it works

tater tots for the kids

The kids and I stopped off at the BR for our free birthday scoops. Rainbow sherbet for the Z, chocolate for the O, and strawberry for me. So, no dessert, I think, though we do have some leftover chocolate coins.

on 2008

I would not say it's been a year of complacency. We've had two job changes, a cross-country move, a major car accident resulting in the loss of my beloved station wagon, and an economy that is not cooperating with our wishes. But all of these upheavals are what makes life less humdrum.

We have our health. We've celebrated five years of marriage and 13 years of a life together. We are parents to two lovebombs of children who never cease in delighting us. We are repairing neglected relationships with family and friends and forging new connections as well. We have our necessities covered.

We count ourselves lucky. Although that knowledge doesn't prevent us from wishing for more creature comforts, we are allowed a little envy. After that wave passes, we emerge to see our children ready for hugs and kisses, the smell of something good wafting from the stovetop, and a stack of books on the bedside table.

neighborhood envy

Today we crashed the playground and library of the neighborhood where we want to live eventually. It's a little posh, but then again, not too much of SF is not posh these days. The big draw is the convergence of three or four Muni train lines at the tunnel that will take you straight downtown - a beauty of a commute. Plus, the library is cozy with a separate children's room, and the playground is smallish but contained and with a bonus grassy field for running with complete abandon.

It's not to say that our 'hood is unacceptable, but having a more direct commute to the working world makes life much easier. And having a three screen  movie theater within walking distance seals the deal for us. When D-Money and I lived in Tarzana, we were a five-minute walk from the local multiplex and a quick drive from an independent movie place in Encino. In Chicago, we lived in Lincoln Square for a while and loved taking in movies at the Davis, which cost $5 per ticket - perfect. If we stayed in Chicago, we would've hunkered down in LS or headed out to Oak Park with its architectural history and - yes, you guessed it - movie theater on the main drag.

Not so much to ask for, right? Will it happen? We can only hope. And play the lottery a little more often.

best moment of the day

Because D-Money is home for the holidays and can wrangle O, Z and I had a luxurious half hour of mama-daughter time, which we spent reading. We like Richard Scarry's books for his nearly OCD attention-to-detail illustrations and spend more time talking about the pictures than actually reading. 

I like these impromptu moments. Some nights we don't even get to reading, unfortunately. And I wonder if the kids will remember these positive times or the times when I have had it and lose my temper. 

I thought I was immune to caffeine

but it's past midnight and I'm still wide awake. Granted, I took a brief unexpected nap in Z's bed earlier because she wanted a little co-sleeping time. But I'd like to think it was that Thai iced coffee at 2 p.m. I can give or take the 'bucks but Thai iced coffee, how I love thee!

At least I got one private school app done. Woohoo!

we're in an economic downturn?

I wouldn't have noticed because I'm always broke, or close to it.

what Sundays are like.

A chicken is roasting in the temperamental oven, Z is coloring, it's close to six p.m. and O is still napping. Laundry folded and ready to be put away. Making a to-do list for the week.

important now

[psst...the pic on the left will make sense if you read the last paragraph in this post first]

This fall I've been consumed with the whole process of finding a school for Z and O. They're spending the next, oh, six or even nine years there, so it behooves us to pick a solid one.

The public schools that we've toured are pretty darn swell. We looked at one top SF public and came away underwhelmed. It's not to say it didn't deserve its good rep, but in comparison with others we've seen, it was comparable to a host of other district schools. We have one that is our top choice - we plan on eventually moving to that neighborhood, the principal is down to earth and straightforward, the parents who led the tour we were on were also down to earth, and the kids looked like they were having a good time. So we'll turn in our app with seven choices and try to forget about the process until late March when the results roll in.

We've toured four private schools as well. They also have their strengths, and, to be honest, they will be a better fit for the kiddos in the long run. However, the admissions process is competitive, based on a number of factors including parent interviews and screening of the kids. It's more personal and, as a result, generates many feelings of insecurity and inadequacy, at least on my part. We'll do our best to provide thoughtful answers to the essay questions, be ourselves at the interviews and tours, and submit our apps, then wait for the March letters.

All in, we're applying to 11 schools - 11 schools that'll work for our family. It's an incredibly stressful experience; even though we've done our research and due diligence, what if we're completely wrong? Part of the whole torment of parenting is that feeling that somehow you're going to screw things up no matter what your good intentions are.

***

I took Z to a family open house at one of the private schools. It was two hours; I fully expected to stay a hour tops. But Z had a ball. We hung out in the kindergarten classroom for a good hour, took a snack break, then headed up to the library. We didn't even hit the art room (I'm starting to suspect that she, like me, likes to create in solitude) and revisited the kindergarten classroom to close the day. I rarely get to see her in action in this kind of setting, and I have to say it was pretty neat to see her pretend play with these old school Fisher Price Little People toys. We're talking the ones from the '70s, like this a-frame house that I had when I was not that much older than her. Now I kind of want to find one just to have. I know, good luck with that, right?

just like home

The dust has settled from our near cross-country move. Camping out in an empty house for a week whilst waiting for your goods to show up was an experience. It wasn't horrible, but I have no desire to repeat it.

The kids are sharing a [very pink] room and have adjusted quite well. Better than I had hoped. They are stressed out, though. Naptimes are random and unpredictable, middle of the night awakenings more common than not, tantrums more explosive, appetites wane and wax. Despite the disruptions, they've been flexible and forgiving. It is wonderful to open the doors separating the master bedroom from the deck that leads directly to the backyard and have dinner there. The kids next door have taken a shine to my kiddos, and it's sweet to hear them playing together, albeit in our respective yards.

My happiness at being here is tempered by melancholy. I miss Chicago and the friends I left behind. I have great love for a number of people, places, and things. I'm glad that I had the opportunity to live there and to develop relationships with all sorts of wonderful characters. I have to believe that these ties I established will never be severed. We may drift apart but will come back together. I have friends from the LA years whom I've rediscovered recently. I hope that holds true with my midwest peeps. For me, it's always about the people.

shifts

Here's the story on the move.

On a whim, I applied for a job in my field for a great company that's located in San Francisco. In my mind, I thought I didn't have a shot since I live in Chicago, and this is not the kind of job for which you would recruit outside of the city. Lo and behold, I got a phone call for an interview that snowballed into a job offer. I accepted it, and have spent the last few months in cold sweats and sudden panic attacks.

Moving is one of my least favorite activities in the world. To date, I have not packed a single thing, though I have gotten rid of bagfuls of random assorted items. I have to confess that I'm overwhelmed. This would be one of the opportunities where a magical fairy being would be really, really helpful.

Z is excited about moving to San Francisco. She's looking to the future. O has no concept yet; it'll hit him after we move. Regardless, it'll be a rough year. I'm fully not expecting us to feel comfortable for a while.

I will say that, as I was randomly driving around Monday evening and cruising down streets that were slowly becoming familiar to me again, I thought, "this is home. I've run away, and now I'm coming back. but not in shame or defeat. I'm not the callow person I was when I left, and maybe I've seen far too much of a lot of things, but I'm coming back as a wiser adult. would that make things different?" I was an angry young woman when I fled for L.A., and I'm not sure how much of that anger has truly dissipated. I know better than to blame people for old wounds. Perhaps I've come back at this point in time to make peace.

karmic balance

bad:
frickin' tree in our backyard dropped a huge branch in the yard. 'twas large enough that it covered most of the backyard and took out a dead cable line.

good:
no one and nothing was seriously damaged by said huge branch.

bad:
tree has lived past its prime, according to our tree guy. so it needs to come down. no shade come summer for poor D.

good:
we'll plant another tree.

bad:
kiddos and I won't be around to enjoy the new tree.

good:
but the robins and squirrels will.