The Kiddie Cocktail

Monday random

When all the world is a hopeless jumble, and the raindrops tumble all around, it's time do do a random blog...*

Last week, all I planned to do was wallow in post-vacation depression, procrastinate a lot, and work my way slowly up to full-blown panic at the fact that my tiny little baby is going to preschool soon (PRESCHOOL!), but, well, other things intervened.

1. The Earthquake. Holy crap, we had one! I was in my office (probably procrastinating), when there was some shaking, some rumbling. The hell? I thought. The first thing that I concluded was that there had been an explosion at a nearby construction site. We are in a "redeveloping" neighborhood, and are utterly surrounded by huge construction sites. More shaking, more rumbling, the floor actually rolling, light fixtures waving away on the ceiling like perverse flowers in a breeze. Then, the second thing I thought was BOMB. We live in DC. I work on security issues. I am an obnoxious building emergency warden. This is how I think. BOMB. And then the rumbling and shaking kept going, got stronger. I almost laughed, realizing, oh, I GET IT, it's an earthquake! An earth ride, as one of my friends from San Francisco used to call them. I was honestly relieved that it wasn't a bomb, because again, this is DC, this is how we think. Of course, I shot off a Tweet, because I am a social media whore:

@DCZia Roberta

HOLY FUCKING EARTHQUAKE IN DC. Or something. For serious.

23 Aug via web

I ditched my heels for flip flops, and grabbed my handbag, making sure I had phones, wallet & keys. I donned my orange emergency warden vest (which is in serious need of some Bedazzling) and shooed my fellow employees out the stairwell and to our evacuation rally point. Once out there, of course I turned to Twitter, which had all the best info AND kept working fine, thanks for nothing AT&T. I also realized that I had a bottle of champagne in my bag, because I'd done some errands over lunch, including a wine store stop. That's right, if you evacuate with me during a natural disaster, I bring teh interwebs AND the booze.

All kidding aside, everything was fine. I left work when The Powers That Be excused us, and scooted home. I live a mile and a half from my office, so no traffic snarls for me. The worst casualties were a very tired child (earthquake disturbed her nap) who was falling asleep in her tacos at dinner, and some crooked pictures around the house. Nothing even fell off of a shelf in our 115 year old house. Unreal.

2. The Hurricane. Like the rest of the more northerly East Coast, we were in the path of Hurricane Irene. Here is what we did to prep: (a) bought propane; (b) and beer; (c) starting drinking shortly after lunch; (d) charged up all the iDevices; (e) drank too much wine, went to bed early and slept mostly soundly, waking up a few times to marvel at the howling wind and pounding rain. That about covers it. Woke up Sunday morning to gawk at all the downed trees, and felt grateful, since it's exactly six years since Hurricane Katrina. It could have been a lot different.

3. Regularly Scheduled Panic. My wee tiny baby is somehow almost three years old and starts preschool on Thursday. PRESCHOOL. I coped by applying name labels to everything in sight, getting hysterically indecisive about which after-school activities we should register for, and drinking before 5:00 pm.

4. Death, Shock, Grieving. I found out this morning that a colleague passed away on Friday night. He had chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, his health was not all that great, but it seemed he would stubbornly carry on for a long time to come. He succumbed to pneumonia. I am in shock. This man was like a foster dad to me at work; I'm around the age of his daughters. He was stubborn, and smart, and moody, and prickly, and generous and witty and knowledgeable all at once, and I got along with him well. I learned so much from him. We talked about everything from Jeeps to horses to guns to railroading to natural childbirth (you can't say that about every colleague). It is still that time where it seems impossible for this person to be gone, for the world to never hear his deep belly laugh again, for his office to be still and quiet and empty. My heart hurts for his family, who has lost a father, a grandfather, a husband.   

And so I start this Monday, in a random jumble, trying to just be grateful for what I have, here.

*With deep apologies to "Over the Rainbow" - the little known intro verses.

Nothing but bullet points

This is all I got. New year, schmew year.

• Our holidays were pretty good. There was as much lazing around as one can do without a lot of childcare, without a lot of vacation time and with a small, speedy, demanding and loud child around. For the sake of some peace and wine, I did introduce Dora the Explorer into our household, a move which I may live to terribly, terribly regret. I tried to make sure we ate well, listened to Christmas music, and that the house was full of pretty lights, decorations and booze cheer.

 

• The Olive had a really good time. She loved having us home, loved the nights we did drinks and snacks in front of the fire instead of sitting down for dinner. She got lots of great gifts, but not too many. She walked around the house saying "It's Christmas time! It's Christmas time!" She was adorable about wanting to open presents and more presents, but was sweet and accepting when we told her Christmas was over and there weren't any more presents. Sometimes, I think I couldn't ask for a better kid. Except when I want to put her in a box with airholes and ship her to China.

 

• My mom came for a week. I think we all had a good time. Except for the fateful day we all tried to do a Capitol tour. It began with Seth bailing on the tour and going home to save our $50 worth of fancy travel coffee mugs and Nalgene bottles and organic food from being thrown in the trash, because you can't bring ANYTHING into the Capitol. ANYTHING. Not EMPTY WATER BOTTLES, people. My mom and I bailed on the tour about 15 minutes in, when it was apparent that it was a dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, DUMB idea to bring a toddler along who can't fathom why she should not be allowed to run like a rabid raccoon around the Rotunda, shouting "Look! Windows! Lights! Statues!" Our morning ended with an actual head wound on a marble step in the Vistor's Center, FTW!
• New Year's. Pffft. The thing about New Year's Day, just now? it's not a holiday. I can't stay up late. Because it's going to be just another day where someone demands my attention full throttle at 6:00 am. I was asleep by 9:30 on New Year's Eve. I did make a really awesome dinner for the Eve. Marinated steak, Pioneer Woman's shrimp, parmesan mashed potatoes, green beans with almonds, some great bread, pastries from a local bakery, and wine, beautiful wine.
• I am opposed to New Year's resolutions. People set impossible goals, never keep them, and end up disappointed and without any change in their lives. It's the false hope of New Year's which is itself an overblown, overhyped occasion. More on that...some other time.
• That said, damn it if I didn't start thinking about what I could do better. At the top of the list: be a better wife. Gonna start with actually hiring a babysitter once in awhile. I so have control and micromanaging tendencies. They are magnified about ten thousand fold when it comes to The Preshus Child. Hence, we've barely had any babysitters (other than family) for two entire years. I know. Roll your eyes at me, tell me I'm overreacting. The kid will be fine. I am. I know. You are totally right.
• And I want to write. More. Better. Faster. Pussycat! Over 2010, I discovered so many more amazing writers here on the interwebs, people who brought me to my knees with beauty, tears, and gut-busting laughs. You inspire me, all of you.
• You can see I'm off to a REALLY FUCKING GREAT start with that "more writing" thing as I am finally posting for the first time in over a month with bullet points.
• I also want to take more photos. More! Better! Faster! Yeah, you know. My 35 mm f/1.8 lens changed my life last year. It's fast, I learned about bokeh. I shot great, different stuff; just not enough of it. This year, more of that, plus trying my hand at Photoshop, which I finally sucked up and purchased.
• I so covet one of these bags. I am sure that the second I get it, my photos will dramatically improve. Fortunately, my birthday is coming up and I think I have already wheedled my way into this bag. I'm coming for you, Annie Liebowitz!
• And now I would like 4 extra hours in each day, in which I am not doing anything for anyone else or eating or sleeping, so I can actually write something coherent, and climb up the very steep learning curve of Photoshop.
• Speaking of sleep. this time of year kills me. Just kills me. Almost literally. I don't do well with the lack of light. I don't have an office with a window. I have to actually go outside to see the sun, and brrr. I'm taking vitamin D and getting exercise to try to combat this, but I'm not sure it's working. Yesterday, an amount of coffee that should have had a Clydesdale tap-dancing still left me ready to crawl in bed at 5:00 or sooner. I used to like winter. I think I used to get outside more. I also used to have the freedom to lie on the sofa all day, wrapped in a blanket, alternately dozing and watching movies. Hibernating. Small children are not conducive to the hibernation state. Goddamn, she really wears me out, but I guess I love her anyway. Anyone with winter coping advice or crack or coke or uppers will be welcomed with open arms and more booze.
• In other news, only 59 days until we get Daylight Savings Time again. Fo' serious. March 13, y'all. I'll see you when the sun comes back.

Monday miscellany

Item The First: Obligatory adorable offspring in Halloween costume. I'm just getting this out of the way so those of you who are just here for that can check that right off your list and be on your merry way.

 
She's a witch! We are pretty sure that she does now weigh more than a duck.

My mom sent her the costume. I realized when we got it that she didn't even know what a witch was. Commence books about Halloween and witches, and much talking up of the costume so she would be excited to put it on. She was. We trick or treated with two other small fry of the same vintage. She wasn't that into it for the first house, but as soon as she realized, OMG, people are putting STUFF! in my BAG!, she was all over it. We just went around our block, and she walked tha entire way, gamely climbed up all the stairs, knocked on doors, and said "I want a trick or treat." We even got a lot of "thank yous." Amazing.

 
Trick or treating is hard work when you are less than three feet tall and there are lots of stairs.

She doesn't care about the actual candy, since she doesn't really know what it is. It's just the getting of it and the putting of it in the bag. After we were done and back inside, waiting to hand out candy, I gave her a Kit Kat. She nibbled some of the chocolate off, then abandoned it in favor of some strawberries. We just very rarely have candy in our house, so she's never really had it. I know she will discover its improbable wondrousness sooner or later on her own. For now, I'm just going to enjoy what must be my outstanding parenting skills at getting her to prefer fruit to chocolate.

Item The Second: CSA Guilt

We have been members of the same CSA for three seasons now. Our season just ended last week. And yesterday, I purged my refrigerator of an embarassing number of large Ziploc bags of greens. I felt horribly guilty for throwing away perfectly good food (well, I guess that's arguable if you're not a fan of greens) that is all nutritious and shit, and that I supposed I could Fed Ex to Haiti or something, but goddamn, it was a lot of greens. A. LOT. I'm sorry, Barbara Kingsolver; I'm sorry, Mom, but I was just done. I had no energy for any more kale chips or sautes of greens or salads or woody stem plucking. A goat would have been helpful, but alas, the CSA did not provide one of those. And now I feel free. You can see things in my fridge, and even take them out now, without risking an eyeful of mizuno. I have purged the greens, and the guilt.

We're also kicking this CSA to the curb, and picking up a new one next year. The one we use now used to be the only game in town - it delivers to our neighborhood from the farm out in Maryland. Now, there are at least three competing CSAs, and probably more. We joined a CSA to put our money where our Michael Pollan mouth was, and we liked supporting Scott and his wife, a young couple who had no farming background, and just decided to do it. They've even converted other farmers, including some Mennonites, in their area to organic farming. But after three years, we found our current CSA a bit disorganized, and the quantities of vegetables sometimes overwhelming. We know Scott will easily fill our spot - he has had more requests for subscriptions than he can fill over the last couple of years. Our new CSA offers smaller shares, and more options, like eggs, meat, more fruit, homemade jams. It's a full-on, genuine family farm, with at least three generations participating. We've been buying their goods at a farmers' market for two years now, and have been impressed with the quality of their produce, and their organization.

My god, we are such foodie-yuppie-hipster-liberal snobs. I'm comparison shopping CSAs. But seriously, it's a wonder of riches now. I'm a fan. I drink the Kool Aid. Plus, you know what I see at the farmers' market every week? People from the surrounding neighborhood using their WIC coupons to buy fresh, local. organic produce. That cannot be a bad thing.

Item The Third: I am totally dreading the time change and winter. I am still wishing I were on summer vacation. I even check the Vineyard weather and webcams all the time, even though it's fall there too. It's that crushing darkness that gets me: dark when I leave for work, dark when I get home. Each holiday that's passed - Labor Day, Columbus Day, now Halloween - has made me surprisingly sad with its passing. With a little edge of panic, because that time, those moments, that summer, they aren't coming back. And now, with an active toddler, we aren't going to be headed for a quick playground session in the evenings when I get home. We're just stuck in the house with each other. Crap. And did I mention it's DARK?

I think it's also the passing of time, the rapid-fire changes in my girl, the milestones whipping so rapidly by, that are making me sad. I can't really remember how she said certain words when she first learned to talk; her diction is so clear now, in that high little silvery voice. It floors me that a year ago, she wasn't walking yet. Still crawling for locomotion. She trick or treated for the first time yesterday, and it was unexpectedly so much fun, so cute and charming, and just...perfect. And now it is gone, never to be the first time again.

I need to look forward. I'm asking for some new winter running gear for the holidays, to make sure I get my butt outside each day that I can. I need to remember how much I like cozy sweaters, and that we can have fires in our fireplace this year, and that the Olive will be old enough to sled and make snow angels and snowmen if we get some snow (just enough, not too much, you hear me assorted and sundry weather gods?). I need to introduce her to hot chocolate and cider and thick, satisfying soup. And remember that the whirl of the holidays is coming, and we convinced my mom to come to us for Christmas, so we don't have to travel. I have to remember how big the girl is, that she gets things now, that she'll like the Christmas lights (hopefully as much as the pumpkins), and that we can take cold winter walks in the starry night, the way that Seth and I did when we first met. I have to remember that it can be good, that I do like winter.

And maybe see if there's any possibility of booking a warm-weather vacation in February so I do not actually lose my mind. Perhaps this would count under our health savings plan for mental health care?