The Great Outdoors

This week I've let my son eat as many hot dogs as he wanted.  Given that we've been to three barbeques in five days, that is not an insignificant number. Yes, they are filled with salt, nitrates and all sorts of other yummy good/badness, but it's still food!  Food and my boy aren't usually good friends after 4 pm.  He's buds with breakfast and definitely snacks, but late afternoon food just seems to piss him off.   And don't even mention dinner!  He HATES dinner now!  Who knows why they broke up, but I think it makes me saddest of all.  I'm sucking up like crazy to all food, trying to will it to make my son fall in love again.  So hooray for hot dogs.  I'll take it.

We spent the weekend up in heaven, aka Lake Tahoe.  My lungs feel cleaner but my car is waaaaay dirtier.  I learned how to ride a bike with no hands.  Taught myself and all.  Not a bad party trick, though the whole time my husband was screaming at me that I was going to fall.  He has no faith in my grace.  Rightfully so.

The wee one enjoyed the hiking, the biking and the boating. But, by far, his favorite part was sneaking into a nearby hotel swimming pool.  Shhh.  My husband, who was so scared of me riding a bike without holding on for ten seconds at a time, taught our toddles how to use a noodle to prop himself up and kick across the pool.  All in the time in took me to go to the bar and back.  Color me impressed. 

Today I learned officially what it means to be the mama of a little boy.  As we were driving home we started smelling a terrible smell.  A smell that weaved around the car and captured even the innocents in its fog.  Not wanting to smell the shite any longer, we pulled over to change the offending diaper.  I asked the boy for the tenth time if he pooped and still denial city.  Just as I was about to pick him up from the carseat, he burst out laughing and said "faaaht, faaaht.  Toto faaaht."  Toto would be Tony, our dog sitting in the back who apparently had one too many duck treats.  Clearly,  I need to prepare myself now for the booger humor. 

California I'm Coming Home

Last weekend I realized once again that connections are out there waiting to be made in the least likely of places.   It turns out that the father of a friend went to high school in a town neighboring mine in the middle of nowhere, NY.  We were both fairly stunned to discover this some 3,200 miles away in Berkeley, CA.  No less than three of my friends turned to me in unison to say, "I thought you were from New York City."  Well, no.  I used to live in NYC before moving here (and before moving to Los Angeles before that).  The straight truth is that I'm a hick.  Tire swing and broke down car in the front yard and all.

It took a long time for me to embrace my country mouse roots.  Only after living in Manhattan for a few years did I come to truly appreciate the beauty of the "country."  Having the opportunity to slow down and get down in the dirt became a wonderful respite when I started feeling the city's mania in my bones.  I always knew it was time for me to go upstate when I found myself wanting to push people down the subway stairs just so that I could get to work faster. A few days in the mountains was like hitting the reset button.

Now, although technically within the bounds of San Francisco, I find myself living a relatively small town life.  This truly is the littlest big city.   Ours is a particularly residential, family-friendly part of the City that suffocated me for at least the first year of my residency.  After living in the East Village, I couldn't understand where all the people went at sundown.  I was far more terrified to walk around my block with my dog at 9 pm than I was stumbling home drunk on Second Avenue at 3 am.  While I've come to enjoy and respect the quiet, I do still stare wistfully out the window in our living room, looking for "action," as my husband teases.  There is no action, other than the occasional fender bender or screaming child (often mine).  Thankfully, downtown and it's various sights, sounds and naked homeless people are just a short ride away.

As much as I fake complain about it to my husband (if anyone wants a lesson in fake complaining, I'm quite the master), I love that I see no less than three or four friends on any one of my many daily outings with my tiny boss.  We know our neighbors, our dry cleaners, our favorite farmer's marketers.  It's so cute, it's a little nauseating. Nearly five years later and I'm finally starting to see why people love San Francisco.  It's nice living.  Now, where do I find it on the East Coast?

Gratitude with a side of bacon

I woke up at 6:05 this morning.  I was cranky and completely bleary-eyed.  And, I am pretty sure I woke up my son and my husband as I walked out the front door.  None of that mattered the minute I walked through the church doors.  Spending two hours helping serve breakfast to those who need it most was really what I needed most.  The world shifts a little when you step away from your life, run around refilling milk/water/coffee pitchers, stuff your back pockets with sugar packets to hand out every third minute and smile as wide as you can all before 9 am.  Plus, all the free coffee you can drink.  Not a bad way to start the day.

Ebb and flow

Dear Weekend,

Thank you for you tireless efforts to prove to me, once again, that motherhood is basically a journey of the highest highs and the lowest lows.

Friday night, I stayed home while my husband went out and got some bro time.  True to cheesy form, I somehow convinced myself to rent "The Vow."  Shut up.

Saturday, we woke up to a pile of vomit in the crib and it was all downhill from there.  Most of the day was spent hugging my sick son while tears streamed down his face.  The silent agony was far worse than his screaming, grunting and crying could ever be.  His fever was fairly high, due to a Dr. Mom-diagnosed combination of required monthly toddler sickness, teething and maybe a reaction to the live-virus in last week's MMR shot.  FYI, maybe don't go to the good Google when researching MMR reactions unless you're really prepared to open that door.  While I don't see any definite correlation between vaccinations and autism, it is rather frightening to read these posts as your kid is refusing to eat, move or even look at you because he's so miserable.

The whole day he just seemed confused and sad, like he was trying to work out why this was happening to him.  Thankfully, he fell asleep easily for the night and miraculously slept straight through me taking his temperature multiple times like a mad mama. 

Sunday, we had a new little man on our hands!  Ah sleep, is there anything you can't do?  Although our daredevil was back, we took it a little easy and abandoned our special hiking plans (sorry, Tony).  Mr. Schneed made breakfast though conveniently forgot about dish duty.  I did, however, get about 45 minutes of silence to read the NYT, which was pure Mother's Day bliss.  I also met some of my besties for ice cream during the wee one's nap. 18 months in and I'm finally beginning to realize that ice cream or wine make blessed nap time even more blessed.

We went for a family bike ride to a local park to round out the day.  Shorty managed to find every tweeked out, stoned or drunk couple to say hello to as he was roaming around.  In Dolores Park, you can really pick your poison.  Oh, and I let him run around without shoes as he conveniently lost one on the bike ride to the park.  Definitely not my proudest moment as I looked down and saw bottle caps (and worse) every six inches.  Hooray for socks! 

Eating a healthy meal of french fries and only french fries.

I'm feeling quite lucky to end this weekend laughing with my boys and all ten of their toes.

With (mostly) Love,
Elana 

P.S.-We found the missing sneaker on the street as we were biking home.  Miracles do happen.

Stuck In The Middle With You

Five and a half years later and he still wears the Urban Fetch shirt all the time

On the plane home from a rather long, difficult week in New York (aside from a very special dinner at Jean Georges) dealing with a scary (and successful!) surgery for one of my necessary people, 500 Days of Summer popped on my Virgin Red. Who can resist Zooey? Mr. Schneed hates this movie. He just doesn’t understand why she doesn’t want to be with the nice, cute guy. I remember seeing it in the theater and my cute, nice guy husband was viscerally angry at Summer. Watching it the other night while feeling wistful, I had an epiphany—I never have to date again! You would think this would have struck me earlier given that I've been with my husband for over 5 years. I've always been a slow learner. Obviously, this is assuming that I don’t go through an even more horrifying divorce. Barring that, I never have to date again. Woohoo!

No more painful breakups. No more sobbing through dinners with friends because yet another relationship is on the bridge to nowhere. No more wondering if he'll call. No more wondering if I'll ever fall in love again. No more fearing that I'll never have a family. But also: No more searching for the perfect outfit to wear on a first date. No more witty text/im/email banter. No more wondering what it would be like to wake up with him. No more trying so hard to be my best self.

I've been so focused this past year on being a mother that I fear I've ignored my wifely duties. Perhaps ignored is a little harsh. Maybe more like forgot to water for, oh, say, about a year and change. But, thankfully ours is a cactus marriage and (mostly) thrived during the drought. In yesterday's Modern Love column in the NY Times, the author writes about how she poked the bear and endeavored to make her good marriage even better. I'm starting to feel the same itch to start poking. Why wait for things to start falling apart before letting my dear, sweet boyfriend-for-life know how much he means to me?

In the spirit of fixing what ain't really broken but could use a tune up, I want to try to recapture some of the giddiness and excitement of dating. Lately, I find myself saying things to my husband in a tone I might kindly call shrewish. Where did this person come from and how can I banish her? Before snapping or snarking, I want to take a moment to think about how I would react if I were only dating this man. Would I criticize how he bites the spoon every time he eats ice cream? Would I make fun of his desire to watch The Bachelor? (Probably). Would I compliment him more?

When we first moved in together, after traveling back and forth between New York and San Francisco for over a year, we used to wake up each morning laughing at our good fortune. We knew how exciting it was to be together every day and our pillow talk reflected that. Now our pillows are dreadfully quiet as we've both passed out from exhaustion and fear that tonight might be the night that the baby doesn't sleep. This week I'm breaking the silence. I've been feeling like quite the lucky girl again--time to let my date know.

Why indeed?

When I was walking out of our local Whole Foods parking lot yesterday I saw a homeless man approach a father and his two daughters, aged about 3/4 and 6/7. The father shook his head, albeit with measured compassion and an awkward smile, and walked away. I hadn't planned on giving the homeless person (the same one I see at least 3-5x per week and give money to maybe every third time) anything that day, but I felt compelled to after seeing the sad look the older daughter gave him. He smiled, blessed me and wished me well on the sunny afternoon. I caught up with the father and his daughters a bit further down the block and overheard the following exchange, more or less:

Older daughter: ...but why?
Father: I don't know why exactly but I think he probably was asking for money because he needs it.
Older daughter: So why didn't you give him anything?
Father: Well, it is hard to give to one person because there are a lot of people asking for money and we can't give to everyone.
Older daughter: What if we did give to everyone?
Father: Then we wouldn't have enough for us.
Younger daughter: I could give him this (holding up her chocolate milk).
Father: (laughter).

They then crossed the street and I didn't catch the rest of the day's important lesson. Being privy to this conversation initially made me so excited for Mr. Monk to start talking and asking serious questions. Then it dawned on me that I'll be the one who supposedly has the answers. I'll be expected to know what to say and how to make sense of all the sadness and evil and confusion in this world. How do I do that when I can't even begin to understand it myself? I felt more like the daughter in this conversation than the father. But why can't we just give to everyone and make do with less? How is it possible that I went into the store, bought 5 types of organic produce and chemical-free diapers and spent over $40 while this man is asking for any change I can spare? I don't know how to reconcile my guilt over getting what I want while many folks are barely getting what they need.

As I walked home, I thought of how important it is to me to instill in my child a true sense of gratitude, perspective and luck. I'm thinking as he gets older we should institute a buy one, give one program of our own for his toys. And little does he know all the years of volunteering his mama has planned for him.

I hope all of you are feeling some gratitude this weekend. If nothing else, the days getting longer is reason enough to celebrate, though I suppose it means winter is really coming even if it was 70 degrees in SF today.

Things I learned while vacationing with a toddler

1. Always bring more snacks than you think you'll need.

2. Don't tell a mom who is struggling to corral her wild child, "wow, he must be a handful, eh?"

3. Disposable swim diapers are your new best friend. Cleaning poop out of swimsuits, even ones with built-in diapers, is not a good look!

4. Sometimes it's ok to let your kid play with the toilet paper roll in airplane/airport bathrooms.

5. Chilling at the beach while your son takes a two-hour plus nap in his stroller is a lot less fun when you realize he's completely peed all over his stroller.

6. If your child pees through his swimsuit all over his stroller one afternoon, you shouldn't be that surprised when it happens again the very next day.

7. Watching your kid chase around cats, screaming "at, at" while trying to feed them maraschino cherries is as good as it gets.

8. Pina coladas make the world happy.

9. Don't start reading "The Hunger Games" unless you've got a spare 5-10 hours in which to be sucked into a vortex where you will unable to carry on a conversation, go to the bathroom, look up.

10. Sand, while awesome, is also seriously annoying to clean off little boys' bodies.

11. Random people are very sympathetic once your toddler throws up on you mid-flight. Your husband, on the other hand, will repeatedly tell you that you smell.

12. The food that your child adores at home for some reason becomes disgusting and inedible in another country.

13. Some people really love seeing babies walk up and down the aisle on planes. Some really don't.

14. Grandparents are magical people for both children and parents alike.

15. Watching your kid walk for the first time in front of his great-grandma, grandma and great grand uncles is better than fireworks.

16. Doing shots on new years is always a bad idea.

17. The confused look on your kid's face when he wakes up in a fourth location in two weeks is seriously adorable and maybe a little sad.

18. There is always going to be someone skinnier than you on the beach. But, the odds are pretty good that there is someone fatter too.

19. Hypochondria is contagious.

20. It's best not to argue with your 96 year-old grandma when she says your son is a "cockeyed genius" just because he can find everyone's belly button.

Circle of life

I've been feeling alternately so happy and so sad for the past few days that I'm beginning to forget how to function on an even keel. After traveling for a week and a half, running around to a wedding, a baby naming, delicious dinners out and homemade, hospital visits, dropping an air conditioner out of a window, meeting new babies, numerous trips to whole foods, train/plane rides, oh and hosting a Thanksgiving dinner in a teensy NYC apartment, I think the baby is starting to think that one 45 minute nap per day is acceptable. Nope, not even close, buddy.

We are so fortunate to have the time and the mental capacity to tour along the east coast to see our dearest (not so nearest) people. Like clockwork, the day before we leave, I break down in tears and sob to my husband that I hate living across the country and I want to move baaaaaack. This time it happened yesterday, a little earlier than normal. We've been negotiating the return policy for about three and a half years now. Today is the four year anniversary of my move to San Francisco. And yet I love my life there and feel so lucky to be this torn.

I've actually been crying a lot this week.

My sister's friend passed away on Thanksgiving day. This strong, beautiful and courageous woman was only 25 but suffered for the past year from a rare form of cancer, small cell cervical cancer. Although I didn't know her very well, her sister is my sister's best friend so the family has been in our lives for decades. I thought of this brave girl nearly every day for the past few months. Her struggle put so many things into perspective and inspired me in countless ways.

There is something so incredibly disturbing about someone dying so young. When I was in my last year of law school a close friend of mine died. Losing him when he was at his most vibrant and on the precipice of greatness was shocking and raw. I can't stop thinking about the family of this young woman. I hope it is of some comfort to them to know how deep an impact she's had on the world. During her illness she raised awareness for this disease and encouraged others to donate money to fund further research. Her life had meaning beyond just those who knew her personally. She changed this world for the better. I can only hope to have someone say the same of me one day. If you're feeling generous and lucky, please consider even a small donation or just start talking about this awful disease so that more preventative measures are taken and, hopefully, a cure will be found.

I also found out about three new and wonderful pregnancies this week.

With thanks

The entire house smells like garlic and onion (my mom's stuffing prep work) and I couldn't be happier. Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday. This year is a bit strange in that we're not spending it with my entire extended family, or thirty to forty of my closest aunts, uncles and second cousins once removed. But, I'll be enjoying some turkey manana with my the immediate family I was born into and the one I've created and that will be ever so special.

Tonight I went out on the town with my man, my bestie (who introduced my husband and I) and her husband. They had a baby three months ago and it was hilarious to see that although they are crazy in love with their gorgeous girl, the four of us can still kill a pitcher of sangria in under 10 minutes. Granted, we were far too pleased with ourselves to be out past 11 pm, but some debauchery and many laughs were definitely had. Check out this resto next time you're looking to spice up your NYC eve.

For those of you with kiddos in or around the NYC area, head to the newly relocated Children's Museum of Art. It moved to a big, beautiful, bold space and is pretty damn awesome. Even though Mr. Monk was a bit smallish and shortish to enjoy all the art opportunities-and was nearly thrashed in the ball pit-he still did have himself a good time. I think children two and up would LOVE the opportunity to get down and dirty with the paints, crafts, clay and other assorted creative goodies.

Lady in red

If only this lasted longer than a few minutes

Hmm, so that's what it feels like to not open a computer for three days. Not bad. Not bad at all. Though I did start to think that I was neglected my blog. Funny how it comes with a real sense of duty. I need something to keep me on schedule these days.

As for all my plane apprehensions, turns out they were somewhat well founded. He wasn't a total freak show, but I definitely did not believe the old man who sat behind me who tried to tell me that "the baby was a great flier!" There was some serious crank at the beginning of the flight, which was right when Mr. Monk should have been napping. Once he finally napped, he was relatively calm with a few exaggerated shrieks every twenty minutes or so. My husband and I looked like we'd been through a war at the end, between all the passing back and forth, the hurried diaper changes, and the climbing under the seats to retrieve cast off food, toys, bottles, cups, etc. Luckily, the shorter flight today to NYC was far, far easier. And shorter.

Turns out weddings are really quite a riot when you can drink and drink again. I forgot how much I love champagne. The band at my friend's wedding was badass (Isaac Hayes' daughter was the bandleader--Shut your mouth!) and we tore it up. At least I'd like to think I did. Seeing myself dancing on video is one of my more horrifying experiences.

About five minutes into my let loose wedding weekend, I lost my driver's license. I had already typed in "how does one fly when license is lost" into the google when someone turned it in to reception. Can you believe someone gave me a baby?

In other big news, I finally bought a red lipstick. Big time, people. I went and got my makeup done pre wedding at the mall across the street from the hotel (we asked the concierge what we could do to entertain our baby within walking distance and she said the mall had a great Santa-the makeup gal told me he rakes in half a million per year. Who wouldn't be fat and jolly for that?) Anyway, I opted for NARS Cruella (huh, never noticed the name before). I practically had to scrub it off at the end of the night. It's the gift that keeps giving. I kind of love it and want to wear it everyday but I know I'll lose the fever if I do. Decisions, decisions.

Check out the glamour shot that I made my husband take of me at the end of the night (after we came in and woke the babysitter who was sleeping on our hotel bed). The secret deodorant and my chicken dance pose are especially glamorous, I know. But, really, I wanted to capture the steely power of the lipstick that had not been applied since before the "I do's."


I hope you're all well and happy this week of thanks. I'm in my favorite place with my favorite people so I'm already feeling pretty grateful.

Ready for greatness

Tomorrow we leave for an almost two week trip to the east coast. Atlanta-New York-Maryland to see some friends get married, visit some newly hatched babes, reunite with beloved family members and GO OUT IN NYC WITHOUT HAVING TO WORRY ABOUT NURSING. Hip, hip hooray for built-in family babysitters. As much as I enjoy living in San Francisco, the thought of being nearer to family and close friends is a delightful one. I miss my people.

My husband and I each chose to get Mexican for our respective lunches today because we knew we'd crave it while away. This is love, people.

While playing in the playground sandbox yesterday, Mr. Monk was digging away at the world's problems with his shovel and uncovered a treasure trove of cat poop. Apparently, my son's personal nirvana is just one giant kitty litter after dark. I scooped out what I could, got my baby the hell out of there and alerted all the other nannies/moms about the contamination. Most agreed that it was pretty gross, shrugged, and went back to gossiping while their kids continue to pour the sand down their pants, in their mouths, and in each others hair.

Speaking of hair, today was the first time I had my hair professionally colored in almost two years. Holy moly, so that's what it should look like. The greys were staging a mutiny. And now they are dead. For 6-8 weeks.

So...flying across country with a 13 month old that can't seem to sit still/be held/keep quiet for more than 45 seconds? Thinking this might be the trip that we order drinks for all our seat neighbors.

Many, many thanks to Irene from I'm a Silly Mami and Roxanne from Not Winning Mom of the Year for my Liebster Awards. Just knowing that my musings and rantings amused you both is reward enough. But, feel free to send chocolates too. Seriously, the blog community is so supportive and welcoming that it's almost therapeutic to be a part of it. And it's free! One of these days I'll get around to posting some of my faves too--procrastination is my strong suit (as evidenced by the fact that it's almost 11 and I haven't even packed)!

Who needs a playground filled with cat poop when you have a laundromat with its own coffee shop?

'Tis better to have loved...

This morning at the dog park, I was chatting with a woman who had the most amazing Southern drawl. You don't hear that too often 'round these parts. Her sweet pup was a 12 year old Golden named Hugh (don't you just love inappropriate pet names?). As we were talking about the dog's health and well being at his advanced age, she started to well up and nearly broke down into a full on cry. I too got emotional sharing about how worried I am for Mr. Monk to grow up with Tony only to lose him right around when he hits puberty. I remember when my first childhood dog, Erica, died and my dad buried her in our yard, with a big stone on top so we'd always know where to find her.

Seeing how much joy the dog brings to him each and every day is amazing. The second Tony bounds into the room, Mr. Monk lights up and laughs. He gives him an awesome full body belly flop hug that he now uses as a way to greet every other dog he sees. Having a dog around teaches him so much about responsibility, family and what to do with food he no longer wishes to swallow. Their relationship is only going to deepen and grow and it is one of my favorite things to imagine about the baby's life.

In some ways it's comforting to know that he will learn about death at a young age. That might make it a little easier to process when being confronted with it again over the course of his long (exceptionally long, my grandma is 96 and kicking!) time here. As painful as it is, death is just about the only sure thing in life. Who am I kidding? It's going to be awful. We better have at least another good 10 years, Tony!

I can't shake this sense of loss. I had a very sad phone conversation earlier tonight. A good family friend is fighting a tragic battle with cancer. This poor girl is only 25 and has been suffering in pain for much of the last year. My heart aches for her and her family. I sort of just want to climb to the edge of a mountain and wail at the unfairness of it all. How can one even comprehend her own mortality at that age? She should be just starting her life of adventure. There is no sense to be made of this other than to be grateful for all that we have and all that we are. And all those doctor's appointments I've been neglecting to make? Scheduled.

Hug your loved ones a little tighter, stare at the stars a little longer and consider yourself a little luckier.

Try the breathing exercise ASAP!

Dr. Andrew Weil Founder and director, The Arizona Center for Integrative Medicine

10 Ways to Have a Happier Life

Bear in mind that by "happy," I am not referring to endless bliss. Despite what many in the media proclaim these days, such a state is neither achievable nor desirable. Instead, these practices are designed to help most people reach and maintain a state of contentment and serenity. From there, a person can still experience appropriate emotional highs and lows, but knows that he or she will soon return to a pleasant state that might be termed emotional sea level...

Secrets and lies

I slept with someone else. And I'm in love with him.

My sister and I were in a Japanese restaurant on the Upper West Side, sitting about 8 inches from two men, one of whom was having the worst night ever. I spent the next hour willing myself not to look over at this poor couple. But, even though I wasn't looking at them and carried on a full conversation with my sister about nothing and everything (I miss living near my sister), I still could hear almost everything they were saying to each other. And it was seriously sad.

I've always been a major eavesdroppper. I don't do it in a malicious way, but sometimes I can't help it. I feel like Sookie the way I'm always capturing bits and pieces of other people's convos. I'll constantly turn to Mr. Schneed in amazement, "did you hear that?!" Every single time he'll respond with "what? I wasn't paying attention. " He NEVER pays attention to other people. Which is good? Is there something wrong with me that I like to listen to what others are saying?

I'm a nosy person. It started when I was a kid-I used to look in people's medicine cabinets every time I went to the bathroom in someone else's home (I've long since abandoned this terrible habit after finding some creepy things that could not be erased from memory). Once, during an after school program, I somehow managed to get stuck in one of my bathroom expeditions and had to call for help. When the hostess came in to relieve me, she saw what I'd been up to and yelled at me, "don't be such a yenta!" I prefer to think of myself as a spy. Perhaps I missed my calling.

Speaking of spies, I just started watching this new Showtime show, Homeland. The first couple of episodes were riveting. It's an interesting take on terrorism and US foreign policy. Just to Showtime it up, there are a lot of boob shots. Kind of too many.

Lately, people have been telling me all sorts of secrets that have a whole lot more meaning than they did when I was seven and found out that my friend Hannah had peed herself and pretended she spilled her apple juice. Maybe I just need to stop listening to the negativity for a bit. Why don't people ever share good news about themselves or others? I know that people like to commiserate but, once in a while, it would be nice to hear some good, old-fashioned bragging.

How is it possible?

• That I sang along, in the car at full volume, to songs by the Indigo Girls, Randy Newman and Colby Caillat? I am embarrassed for myself. Damn you, Coffee House channel.

• That I ate no less than four cupcakes today. They were minis. But still.

• That I got lost in Target today for a good ten minutes. Fluorescent lighting confuses me.

• That almost every video we take of Mr. Monk these days features at least one fall. Better get the band aids ready.

• That right when I start having second thoughts about ending my career as a milk supplier, the goods up and all but disappear on their own. The body works in (not so) mysterious ways.
  

• That doing one tiny something nice for someone else is so much more thrilling than doing nearly anything for myself.

• That despite spending at least an hour every day cleaning my house, the floor still looks (and feels) crunchy. Perhaps I should just stop going barefoot.
  

• That my 96-year-old grandmother went to her stretch and flex class today, but thinks she might be a little too tired for her silver sneakers class tomorrow. Maybe next week, Gramma!

• That one year ago today I gave birth to a beautiful, curious, eager, sweet, innovative, happy, hilarious and impossibly strong little monkey. More to come when I can fully process this information.
  

• That my big boy had a virtual birthday party with both of his grammas, one of his aunts and his baby cousin who all live 3,000 miles away. Technology is supremely awesome.

Do something

This afternoon I did a little furniture browsing in downtown San Francisco (pinterest only goes so far, people). While walking through the Union Square area I passed no less than three homeless/panhandling people per block. One such individual was particularly affecting. He was older, likely in his 60's and in a wheelchair, shaking from Parkinsons and breathing with the aid of an oxygen tube and tank. For a few seconds, I couldn't stop staring and started welling up thinking about how this situation came to be for him. I told myself that I would go back and give him some money when I felt more composed, but I got caught up in my silly exploits and forgot.

I need to remember to stop forgetting about others. I've always fantasized about going up to someone asking for change and handing over $100 (or $20 or even $10). One day. But, that's still just one person, one time. The best thing I have to give is my time, especially since that's pretty valuable these days. Volunteering has always been a priority for me since I donned my first candy striper uniform at age 12. I worked in the geriatric ward of the hospital and learned to call my grandmother as often as I could. For the past few years, I have been volunteering as an escort for Planned Parenthood, though I stopped late in my pregnancy as the protesters outside were particularly ugly to me then. Once Mr. Monk arrived, I began to think of my rearing a kind and good man as all the community service I could handle.

Recently, I signed up to start volunteering again, this time with group of children living in a homeless shelter. I worked at this shelter a couple of years ago, organizing play/educational events for the children. As difficult as their situations may be, a kid is a kid. They all just want to make you smile, laugh and buy them candy. I imagine this will be an even more powerful experience now that I am a mother.

Time to spread the happy. And some misguided toy purchases.

Call your grandma.

Perspective

I complained entirely too much today. I complained to my husband. To my mom. To my sister. To my friends. To my son. While I am a firm believer in the healing powers of venting, enough is enough. My life is pretty damn good right now. So, from now on, when I find myself with a desire to bitch to or about someone, I'm just going to think of this sign that I saw while walking my dog the other day. No whining!

Instead, here are five things I am grateful for right now:

1. That I did not get a parking ticket despite being parked for an hour downtown in a no-parking passenger loading spot. For some reason, my addled brain saw the M-F, 11 am-12 Midnight sign as reading M-F, 11 pm-12 Midnight. I just thought it was only for passengers who were going out drinking or dancing.

2. Mr. Monk is really into hugs right now. He goes full throttle, with the head, the arms and and the tongue coming at you. It's like a grabbing a shooting star.

3. While my family members and many of my friends live on the other side of the country, I can see their lovely faces on my cell phone thanks to the genius of Steve Jobs! I wish you good luck and good health, Mr. Jobs.

4. The blogging world. I only recently discovered the true joys of public journaling, but I gotta say that I am really digging it. I hope to keep it going for a while.

5. This weekend's road trip to Portland! Granted, Mr. Monk seems to have had a major falling out with his car seat in recent days, but maybe they can come to some sort of amicable accord in their 10+ hours together. We are so excited to check out this amazing farmers market.

In case any of you are in need of a little reality check, have a look-see at this incredible piece that a friend posted on FB. I found it to be amazing and enlightening--as noted in the article, despite the vast differences among the subjects, everyone sleeps.

'Where Children Sleep'

lens.blogs.nytimes.com

James Mollison wanted to portray children's diverse worlds. What better way to do so than to photograph their bedrooms?

Oh sleep, I'm off to find you.

Kindness of Strangers

Yesterday was an exercise in resource management. I am not good at resource management.

I had planned to visit a good friend and her fresh new baby in the afternoon. Of course, the standard mom time handicap had me running a good twenty minutes late. Amazingly, I remembered to bring the gift, though I forgot the card. I also forgot to eat lunch and actually managed to do Insanity (first time in a week-rough) so I was starvation central. I wanted to pick up some of these awesome cookies for my friend and then grab some lunch on the way. As I was standing in line at the cookie shop (and helping myself to some samples, thankyouverymuch), I realized that I didn't have my wallet. Scrounging through my purse, I found $8 and a million pennies. At that point, I was all in on the cookies and too lazy/late to head home. The woman pushed out a baby, I thought she deserved some good cookies.

Minus the $6 spent on the half dozen, I had $2 left to get myself some grub. After driving around for a few minutes and consulting with a homeless person for advice, I stopped at a taqueria, thinking that they must sell dollar tacos. Apparently, non-Taco Bell Mexican restaurants charge at least three whole dollars per taco. Eek! I was starving and noticed that a side of rice was only 95 cents and a side of beans was the same. Unfortunately, when I went to pay there was a difference between the prices of the sides when they are in addition to a meal and when they are the meal itself. The tally was $2.85. Ruh roh. I stood there sheepishly and handed over my $2 and a fistful of pennies and apologized saying, "that's all I have." The two women minding the counter were so kind and told me not to worry. One said I just have to come back and order more next time. How sweet is that? I need to head over there later to drop off a big tip.

And maybe, just maybe, I should stick an emergency $20 in my car like a 16-year-old.

But, at least my friend got her cookies and I got to hold her sweet little babe.

My not so little babe...here comes trouble

Feeling the love

Photos via

This weekend the mister and I took in a whole lotta music, food and fun at the Outside Lands festival in Golden Gate Park. Mr. Monk was not invited. We both were getting a little sick of each other and mutually decided that it would be best for him to spend some quality time with a babysitter. Later this afternoon we're going to sit down and discuss some highs and lows of our time apart.

Some of our friends brought their kids and that was exhausting just to watch. There was some downright amazing eye candy (this is SF after all). We didn't really get the chance to check out many new bands but managed to see a few favorites, including Phish (don't judge, I married a Phishhead), the Meters, the Decemberists and Arcade Fire. Thanks to some friends in the biz, we got these fancy little bracelets that gave us special parking, free drinks and access to private bathrooms..now that is livin'.

We had some friends in town for the festival who were staying at the Claremont Hotel in Berkeley. This is where I will be moving. Please have all my calls and mail forwarded. Spending the afternoon at the pool, with Mr. Monk and his new friends (the kids of our friends!) and knowing that they clean the pee out of the kiddie pool during each of the regularly scheduled "10 minute breaks"...now that is livin'.



When I visited my home away from home, Whole Foods, this morning, I experienced the realization of my biggest nightmare/dream. The cashier recognized me! As I was checking out she said, "where's the baby today?" Gah! I started laughing and said I was wondering when I would be called out on my constant visits. She replied, "oh yeah, we know all the regulars." Being recognized for spending an inordinate amount of time per week at a grocery store...I don't know what that is.

What I am thankful for right now

★ My baby's eyelashes are far longer than mine. At least he won't need to wear mascara.

★ The opportunity to work part-time and use my brain in a different way. This temporary posting for my previous job is a great segue for me to figure out what's next professionally. And I get to wear fancy clothes again.

★ Each and every day my husband finds some way to make me feel special, like bringing me a yummy muffin this morning. Bran, but still. Even after being together for five years next month, we still are discovering new (and mostly good) things about each other.

★ While I don't totally love my new bangs, I don't totally hate them either.

★ Mr. Monk squealed with delight at today's playgroup. Apparently, three weeks of not seeing his friends was not cool with the bossman.

★ We only have four weeks of Insanity left! Somehow that doesn't sound nearly as frightening as 60 days. If we hadn't missed a few days here and there we'd be only two weeks away. Alas.

★ My teeth feel incredibly smooth and clean after being tortured at the dentist this morning. And, I had no cavities and only one or two areas of gum recession (what??).

★ I've made it almost 9 months out of my 1 year commitment to breast feeding! Though I know I will miss the special bond nursing brings...

★ ...I've only got three more months to go out of my 1 year commitment to breast feed!

★ As a Portuguese Water Dog, our pup, Tony, doesn't shed. He has to get his hair did at a proper dog salon. When he came back today from his day of pampering (and anal gland squeezing, eek), he smelled so fresh and clean. I'm going to enjoy it all I can before tomorrow morning's visit to the park for butt sniffing, dirt rolling and general doggie debauchery.