Monday, May 30, 2011

Rapture

Almost hourly we are checking in with each other as Tim and I coax our life back to "normal". Only it's an enhanced version of normal: you can't emerge from a time like the past few weeks and months without it having changed you. Whatever fundamental thing all those feelings of anxiety and fear were born out of is still there even if the situation has changed. We're pretty hell-bent on dealing with that because if we don't, that thing will hunt us down again and again until we do. Part of it, we've decided, is having invested so much into this livelihood that leaving isn't an option - there are no second careers or professional reinventions for us. As it happens, the life we have been inching towards is still there at the finish line waiting for us.

As we go through the paces of post-exam hangover we are also recovering from a horrendous GI virus that took no prisoners. It was a vicious and tenacious bastard. Last Saturday as Tim was arriving in Louisville for his boards, I woke up on the bed in the guest room at my Dad's house. I rolled over and looked at the clock. It was 6:12 PM. My first thought was, "Shit. I wasn't raptured. I have to go to work on Monday and I feel terrible." Then next thought was, "Was Ada raptured? Because if she was and I wasn't and I have to live without her for 156 days or more then that's all I need to be in hell." The metallic taste coupled with ptyalism led to my next thought which was, "Aww, crap. I'm going to throw up now," and I did.


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The day before the great vomiting sickness came, Ada and I made awesome rhubarb muffins. 


I am thankful that my Dad and Rob are near. I am so thankful that they cared for Ada for many hours on Saturday because I was far too sick to do it by myself. I am so thankful that Rob did I-don't-know-how-many loads of laundry with no complaint. It wouldn't have taken much to make me feel worse than I already did by the time Ada threw up on the bed for the second time. We were unprepared for a sleep over and we were a pain to have as house guests yet they insist that they didn't mind. That's love, friends.


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So In the course of 2 weeks we had a miscarriage, a sweeping virus, and survival of a devastating exam. I'm ready to leave this little threesome of bad tidings far behind us. It would seem that the universe if happy to oblige as we are already well on our way:  I finally can eat something more nutritionally complicated than saltines or dry Cheerios. Ada hasn't thrown up in over 72 hours. Heart-to-heart conversations with friends in a cafe on a blessedly light work day. Heart-to-heart conversations with my husband because we can and we must. Cathcing up with friends on another coast over the phone. Hiking through the Sunol wilderness with my girl pointing out airplanes, butterflies, birds, and cows. Endless waiting for test results brought to a dramatic eleventh hour crescendo among tears and hugging - there was so much feeling that Ada was frightened and started to cry!


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At this point, I'm going to get this out there for historical documentation because already there are things to look forward to and other topics stewing about in my mind. With all the living we've been doing over the past few days I haven't had time to catch up with myself! Not a bad problem to have.

Friday, May 27, 2011

Dr. McDreamy

Look who passed his oral board exams.

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It's been 13 years in the making between undergrad, med school, internship, and residency but this man is finally a board certified radiologist. We are celebrating.

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I didn't doubt for a moment that he passed. I knew the minute I met him that he would do every single thing he ever seriously set out to do. He would hear none of it, full of anxiety and self-doubt this past week. I talked to Melissa yesterday and she asked, "did he feel devastated cuz I can't imagine leaving an exam like that and not feeling devastated." She gets it, which is only one reason I'd totally take on anyone for her: Mel "gets it" when it comes to most things. She's a board certified emergency and critical care veterinarian. She can relate to the process and that's nothin' to shake a stick at. The love of my life has been in misery.

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And praise Jesus that he passed because if we had to keep this up until the re-take in November I seriously can't say with any confidence that our family would have survived. It's been a looooooong road, folks. So if you find me defending medical professionals, please understand that I've been there. I AM there. I've seen the sleepless nights (for everyone), the delayed gratification, the work, the sacrifice, and felt the absence of my husband when I really needed him. It's unreal that the doctors who care for you go through all of this shit only to be Googled and blamed for the fiscal problems (you do know that we drive a piece-of-shit Grand Am, right? That thing has been damaged so many times we don't even notice new scuffs anymore). Do you doubt? Next time you encounter any MD ask them about oral boards. Be prepared to watch their faces fall and their chests sink in. Hey, if we're being honest we can discuss that the money ain't what it used to be and God knows the respect is so far gone. For the record, our net worth is still negative.

So off I go to enjoy spending time with my family. It's been months and I couldn't be more excited to be a family of three rather than a family of a couple compensating for an extraordinary circumstance. Blessedly, she doesn't  seem to have noticed.

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I'm about 2/3  done with a post about what's been really happening. It'll be up soon.

One last thing: our celebration includes going to bed before the sun has completely said "Good night". I love this moment.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

My Heart, My Healer

The woman who takes care of Ada while I work was sick earlier this week. We thought she was not infectious once she came back to work but no such luck. Ada woke up sick this morning. GI in nature: no need to elaborate, right? I just tried to keep encouraging her to drink water as she refuses pedialyte. She finally was able to hold down some rice crackers and avocado at about 6:00 tonight so she's on the mend and I think everything will be OK once the odor of vomit clears from the laundry room.

The silver lining is that we snuggled all day long. There were lots of tiny cat naps - I waited for her in a sunny spot on the couch with a crocheted afghan and when she was done playing she would climb up and lay down for about 10 minutes with me. Then up again for 5, snuggle for 10, up for 5....She took her morning nap on my chest until I had to pee so badly I got up. She also took an afternoon nap, which hasn't happened in months.

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Normally I'm all about getting things done when she naps - especially on the first day of my weekend. Today was so different though. I absolutely didn't care about anything else but comforting her. It's so unusual for me to not feel like I should be doing something else. We lay together for the most of the day with the sun warming us, her body molded to mine for maximum contact. Her weight on me pushed my roots deep into the heart of motherhood. Her heavy, rhythmic breath was meditative. I examined the red highlights in her hair - just like mine. I felt the most profound love and sense of purpose in doing absolutely nothing that anyone else would consider productive. Today was one of the most beautiful days of my life.

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I didn't know how badly I needed this rest and physical connection until it was forced upon me. It's been a lonely week. Last Saturday night at the park Kathi gave me a great hug that was long and heart-felt and so very badly needed. Since then a bit of a dry spell. I wouldn't tell Tim how badly I needed to be comforted - he has so much on his mind. Twelve hour days at work don't support phone calls with friends or cousins on a different coast. So I cried in the bathroom, the coat closet at work, in my car... I grieved alone. Today though my sweet benevolent Heart healed me again. So, thank you, my love.

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We did take a short walk today to a playground that is usually pretty empty. I didn't want to get any other kids sick but Ada and I both needed a little sunshine and movement. She pooped out pretty fast so our outing was short. We always find the neatest things on our walks around Buena Vista park. Today we found a tiny egg. The shell was so delicate and thin - it's top had broken off in a clean line around the top when it fell from the tree above. The embryo was still inside. I debated posting this picture but I'm going to do it. Biologically, it's beautiful. Philosophically, it's moving. Personally, it's poignant. Even birds experience loss - and they continue to fly.

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Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Shape versus Definition

Surely it won't come as a great surprise that the thing I've been thinking about most is the baby we won't be having. Not to be a Debbie Downer or anything, but it's just the truth. I'm getting used to being in my body alone again and working towards feeling normal. This weekend was rough in patches. Long stretches of clarity and peace were interrupted by moments of intense sadness and doubt.


There is a certain gravity to this process: forcing my way free is useless. I'm better off breathing through the painful moments and waiting for the peaceful relief I know will come. I've mentioned it before - when I force something to before it's rightful time a crisis is precipitated. Healing is an organic process that must be respected by allowing it to happen on it's own time. I just get impatient with waiting.


Life is full of amazing, moving beauty but let's be honest: life can also be hard. These things - the beautiful and the hard - are the things that make us who we are. Part of my job in life, as I see it, is to let the hard things shape my characther without defining me. Miscarriage stinks. I wouldn't wish this on anyone and I certainly don't want to do it again. But I can let it shape me into a person capable of much deeper compassion and empathy. It can sharpen my focus on being the best mom I can be to the little girl I call my daughter. It can remind me to "be kinder than necessary for everyone is fighting some kind of battle" because they are.


Deep inside I know that good things are still coming our way and I have evidence to support that:
1. On new years eve I found several face-up pennies
2. I've seen more rainbows this year than all other years combined
3. Early in the year I got a fortune cookie that promised this year would bring much happiness
4. My horoscope says that it's going to be a great year


See, it's practically irrefutable! Despite my darker moments over the weekend I just know that I'll emerge from this a stronger person, which is good for me and will be good for Ada in ways I can't even fully understand yet. Knowing that your children rely on you to form and then reinforce their foundation is a great motivator to search for the best of yourself no matter what circumstance you face.


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We meet Sarah and Kathi at the park every weekend now and I love it. More importantly is that the girls love it.
It fascinates me how they mirror each other. Well, really Ada mirrors Sarah. My Heart is content to do her own thing until she gets a bee in her bonnet to either do whatever another baby is doing or to "mother" them mercilessly. She is amazing at sharing (most of the time) but this sometimes turns into her strongly insisting that another kid take her snack cup full of cheddar goldfish. My benevolent Heart - I love her so much.


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The facial expressions just slay me. I also realize that this is the same exact jacket, just different patterns.


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Talking on the phone. See how Ada has an eye on Sarah? And just want to add that they have officially switched snack cups. 


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Ada climbed up on the sand pit ledge and stared at the back of Sarah's head waiting for her to do something so that Ada could do it too. 

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An example of the mothering. God forbid Ada let Sarah go without a snack for more than 20 seconds.



In no other city could an even like Bay to Breakers happen like this. It's a race from the San Francisco Bay to the Pacific Ocean. People dress up in crazy outfits and do all sorts of silly things. There used to be a lot of drinking involved and I'm sure there still is but not so openly anymore. Ada and I walked down our street to take in the scene.



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Can you find the naked guy? Always nudity. New to me was running with a cock ring. Well, not this guy, obviously. 

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My little runner got herself some new sneakers last Friday. Saucony, in fact, and they even have laces (her first). She is over the moon for these shoes and fascinated by the laces.

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A couple came dressed as the elderly couple from the movie 'Up'. This was their prop. On Sunday morning as my hormones made wild oscillations I imagined myself whisked away in this house with Ada and Tim off to some nirvana. Now that things are stabilizing and I am getting back to normal I remember that nirvana is here, laying next to my husband in bed with a one-eyed white cat making biscuits on his shoulder while my daughter sighs in her sleep from the room adjoining ours. My last 4 day weekend with Ada awaits. Tim will be off to Louisville for his exam and then the long road of residency comes to an end. 

A new chapter is about to begin. I am refreshed. I am renewed. I am ready to write my history and damn if it isn't going to be good.

Friday, May 13, 2011

Goodbye Tiny Baby: a miscarriage story

This blog is my slightly censored diary. This record of my evolution as a mother and a woman is mostly for Ada's benefit. There is no guarantee that I'll be able to recount it all for her later. Knowing her history and having a wider look at her mom is important. I hope it will help her understand and accept herself when she is older. To provide a realistic reflection of all that life is I am obligated to record the good things as well as the things that aren't so great. Right now I need to let the words spill over about something not too great. 

The night we got back from Santa Barbara over Easter weekend I took a home pregnancy test. The word I have waited to see - "PREGNANT" - popped up in the oval-shaped window almost immediately. My first reaction was disbelief - I had a negative test at 11 dpo. Then I made a conscious choice to let myself feel what was really happening inside. A huge smile and excitement overwhelmed me. I showed the test to Tim who smiled but cautioned me to not get too excited just yet. I scurried off to the bedroom to calculate my due date, study my chart, review dates in my head and start planning how we would make room for another baby in our cramped apartment.


I dutifully went in the next day to have my first beta drawn. The next one 48 hours later had more than doubled. It looked like a good start! I sent emails and made phone calls. I scheduled appointments. I stopped drinking coffee. I looked on etsy.com for a cute t-shirt to announce to the grandparents that Ada would be a big sister. I was genuinely, actively thankful that after years of struggle on so many fronts things were looking up. Still, a part of me was uneasy about this pregnancy. Tiny details were just vastly different from my pregnancy with Ada and I couldn't reconcile what I knew to be scientific fact with what seemed to be happening. It just didn't add up.


I already had an appointment with the same RE we were seeing when we got pregnant with Ada. I kept that appointment 'just in case'. Last week when I sat down to meet with him I offered up my timeline, my cycle summary, and list of supplements. He wanted the history first so I gave it to him. One pregnancy. One live birth: vaginal, uncomplicated. At the end of that long history I told him about the positive test and he smirked and reached over to touch my arm, jokingly saying, "I'm gonna kill you." I defensively launched into why I had doubts and getting a first appointment takes so long. He told me to empty my bladder and meet him in the room across the hall. "Don't be mad at me," was all I said. The embryo measured behind what I expected. There was no heartbeat. Maybe it was too early so I should come back next week. We talked about our plan in case this pregnancy was not viable. 

I know from experience that waiting for something like this isn't exactly easy but at least this time it was familiar. This situation was similar to and different from the lost two weeks when we thought Ada didn't have a corpus callosum. That was devastating and still easily the worst thing that has ever happened to me. This time I knew something was wrong. This time, I wasn't so attached to the baby inside me. This time the baby hadn't moved and I hadn't watched my body change. As I so often do these days I consulted my mantra for the year:  "History is waiting to be written". I go back to this when I need to make a conscious choice about which part of me needs to show up. Be firm or flexible? Go for the run! Make a better choice. Hold my tongue. Take a deep breath. In this case, I decided that it was not under my control so I would take care of myself for the next week and accept the consequences, whatever they were.    

The human body is an amazing thing. Women's bodies are especially amazing in that every month they prepare so that when new life takes hold our bodies shift and change to not only accommodate it but to nurture it. Once that baby is born our minds and lives shift and change to not only accommodate that baby but to nurture it - the heart and spirit have a tremendous capacity for expansion. It really is a miracle that any of us are born healthy - what an incredible and intricate process early development is. I've studied it enough to know that each cell-to-cell communication is a delicate but precise dance of information exchange. But nature is wise and when that process is too far from perfect she puts on the brakes. When I arrived at the clinic for a recheck ultrasound my mouth was dry and my palms were sweating. I waited to see what I knew in my heart was true - the embryo had died and all the tissues were beginning to reabsorb. I'll never know what was wrong with this baby and it doesn't very much matter. I'm sad to say goodbye to it but am grateful to say goodbye now when it is still early.

Given that I am an emotional creature I expected to feel an intense sense of loss and I keep scanning myself to find it. Am I just ignoring it because I'm masterful at ignoring my own feelings? I don't think I am. I am sad and disappointed but not feeling intense grief. I know now that my chances of going on to hold a precious newborn baby in my arms again are pretty good. Expanding our family is as exciting a thought as it's ever been. I hope that the next couple of months bring us this joy again but with a living baby at the end of it. We will move on. In the meanwhile I will keep running. I will do good work. I will create. I will love the baby I already have and she has been the most effective healing power of all. 

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I can't count how many times over the past 2 days I have wanted only to hold her close to me. We have tickled, read books, danced like giggling fools, and gazed into each others eyes. It feels so good to be with her. The tenderness I feel toward her is enhanced because I am reminded of how incredibly blessed I am to have a healthy baby here with me right now. 

The procedure to remove the embryo and supportive tissue is over and I am home. Ada and I will go to Stride-Rite later for some new shoes because life keeps going on around you even when your own little personal universe stands still for a few moments. 
Back to our regular life with an eye ever on the future. 

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Ten on Ten

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Check out Rebekah's site for more 10 on 10 fun - The objective is to take one picture every hour for ten consecutive hours on the tenth of the month. I was introduced to some really fun blogs last month just by poking around. 


I am one of 14 veterinarians at a large practice. We do a lot of what people typically expect small animal veterinarians to do but there is a large shelter and adoption center as well. I love what I do. Count the number of kittens pictured here. That's only a fraction of what I got to cuddle today. 

There were a few special challenges today. One was to not let the camera be invasive. I did ask some clients if I could take a picture of their pet and I explained exactly why because I'm honest like that. The other tricky part was not violating HIPPA rules and regulations. Privacy is important. The last catch was to not post 10 pictures of kittens because I could have done that. Nothing holds a candle to a kitten. Well, maybe a baby bunny offers up some competition but it's a close call. 


6:30 AM
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This one is happy as a lark in the morning IF she has been presented with a bottle of warm milk in a timely fashion. Reminds me of her mothers demand for coffee. 

7:30 AM
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This is the view I get to drink in every morning when I leave my house and go to my car.
Seriously.
There is St. Ignatius. More distant and to the right is the tip of the Golden Gate Bridge. Off in the distance toward the left is Mt. Tam. 

8:30 AM
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This morning we had a doctors meeting from 8-9. I couldn't drag my camera in there. My boss just wouldn't understand. So I took a picture of Max once the meeting was over. One of the vet's I share an office with saved his life. 

9:30 AM
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16 year old female spayed domestic short hair. Presenting complaint: muscle weakness. Diagnosis: hypokalemia secondary to chronic renal failure.
She's a chatty cat and her owner loves her to the moon and back. 

10:30 AM
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A few moments at my desk to catch up on charts. One thing I didn't count on when I became a vet was all the damn paperwork I would have to do. It's really kind of a pain in the ass.

11:30 AM
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Sample cups for blood work. 

12:30 PM
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She was found in a storm drain. 

1:30 PM
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Every now and then the stars align and a perfect combination of I-busted-my-ass and I-just-got-really-lucky comes together and I get to leave work for a short time to go run. I don't love the treadmill the very best but I'll take what I can get these days. Besides, they have showers there. If I can get 35 minutes to go run then I will go run the hell out of those 35 minutes. 

2:30 PM
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Stopped by Peets to get coffee beans for the morning. 

3:30 PM
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4 week old male intact domestic medium hair. Presenting complaint: poor doer, diarrhea, dehydration. Diagnosis: open.
How pathetic is he? Skin and bones but loud and bossy. This shelter really does about everything possible for the animals that stay with us. I think that once he is old enough and well enough he will be snapped up out of our shelter in a heartbeat. 
And just like that Ten on Ten is over. I took more pictures after this one because I couldn't remember how many hours I had taken pictures for! Doesn't matter. Statistics say that another ten on on ten will fall on a work day so I'll shift and document the second half of the day rather than the first.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Deja Vu

Ever have the feeling that you are reliving time? In this case, it's not just a moment, it's an entire group of moments drawn straight from our own history and re-presented in a new way. In some ways I feel better prepared the second time around. In other ways I feel annoyed.

A few months before Tim and I graduated from med and vet school, respectively  there was this weird period of time when we experienced all sorts of emotions that were good but .... well, they weren't exactly harmonious. We were excited because we knew long-awaited change was coming. No matter what happened, it was bound to be good. We were also a bit bejiggety about the waiting that was mixed in with the forward movement. Fits and starts followed by periods of waiting, great news followed by waiting for confirmation, questioning the viability of plans...

The things worth having take a little extra effort. They also can take a little time. If I closed my eyes and went based on my gut feelings alone I would swear It was the spring of 2006 again. I've heard deja vu beautifully described as a feeling you get when you are at the exact right place at the exact right time. Why then does deja vu always makes me feel like something terrible is about to happen? Nothing terrible happens usually, but I still feel kind of creeped out anyhow.


I've been in need of something to occupy my hands and, more importantly, my mind. I decided to try crochet again. For the past 2 years I've been picking up a hook and some yarn, making a ridiculously tight weave, and stashing it all away again in disgust only to drag it all back out and repeat the process a few months later. I am so proud of this little periwinkle rectangle! It means that I can teach myself something new. It means that I can go into a yarn store now and dream wildly about all the things I could create.

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The major thing to occupy my mind and hands is, as ever,  Ada.


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The closer she gets to two the more she knows her own mind. She doesn't quite yet have the language to express it though, which is endlessly frustrating to her. She can also shift moods faster than anyone I've ever seen: stubborn and fiery to giving kisses and hugs back to screeching and grabbing and landing on playing alone quietly can all happen within the space of 2 minutes. It boggles my mind! Sometimes all I can do is stand back and watch her ride this sin wave of expression.

Thursday there was a mini heatwave in San Francisco. We wore cotton dresses and spent most of the day with no shoes. She dug in the planter-box-turned-cold-box while the electrician scurried around the back of the house trying to figure out how to put an extra plug into Ada's room. It needs it's own breaker since we will use it for a space heater. Summer is coming - it's about to get really cold and foggy at night up on our hill. Ever hear that expression, "The coldest winter I ever spent was summer in San Francisco." Believe it!
The weather is like my daughter with it's rapid shift. Thursday it was beautiful but Friday and today the cold ocean wind is violently whipping the trees outside my window and I can't seem to get warm enough despite hot cocoa, fleece jammies, 4 blankets and 2 cats on me.


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My Grandma Marge used to stick out her tongue whenever she was concentrating on something. Ada's feet also remind me of my Grandma Marge with her soft toes gently taking on the shape of the next in a polite toe-to-toe hug. 
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Just for the perspective. We don't spend much time out here. The deck is sinking toward the middle, it's shady most of the day and when the sun starts to go down the wind starts to pick up on our little hill and it gets pretty uncomfortable to be back here. Most worrisome is my constant fear that she will toddle head-long over the edge and get hurt. 

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Last spring Tim and took on the project of replacing the planter boxes outside of the windows in Ada's room on the second story of the house. The flowers are growing all lush and colorful now. The hummingbirds have found the feeder we put out just for them. It's a delight to look out the windows and see tiny birds, flowers, bees, and the tree tops. 


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Sweet sleeping baby. I'll never grow tired of watching her sleep.
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She is endlessly sweet to Puppet. He endures her special expressions of love. 

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She really loves these sandals. She wants to wear them when it's sandal weather and also when it isn't.  Mmmm...socks and sandals. Would appear that she is already preparing for her retirement. 

And so we wait, our sprint toward the finish line halted by a brief period of anxiously awaiting development. Oh yes, we have been here before.  This time, waiting is a bit easier. 

Monday, May 2, 2011

Playthings, Playgrounds, and Playdates

There were a lot of organized activities, playgroups, playdates, etc. this weekend. There was spontaneity too but it was shadowed. It got me thinking:  In this city it is entirely possible to have over 500 people living in the space of one block. It isn't exactly easy to form relationships - I mean, you can easily meet someone and then never see them again. It takes a little work. Is it like this everywhere?

Thank God for the internet. I would say that the majority of my child's interactions with other kids is born out of relationships I formed with other moms online. I'm so thankful for this because these are cool women with stories to tell. I love knowing them and I love that our kids hang out together. Our paths would never have otherwise crossed.

Now for a confession: The word "playdate" kind of bums me out. Not the actual doing of the thing, because that part's great. Rather, it's the idea that we are so busy in our day-to-day lives and so spread out that the kids can't just wander down the block. At least, not where I live. It betrays my Norman Rockwell idea of all these kids born in the same neighborhood, graduating from high school together and being life-long friends. I know that isn't how it works. When I was growing up our parents were probably thrilled that there were kids in the neighborhood all about the same age. In reality, none of us really liked each other all that much and I doubt I'll ever see them again though I wish them well. So, it shouldn't bug me but it does.  There. I said it.


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Moving on.

We hosted the Cole Valley Parents Network playgroup again on Friday. Fun but no pictures. I just don't know them well enough yet, you know?

Bug Day at the Randall Museum. Ada was not so interested in the organized activities there but she did make a butterfly with a party horn proboscis and tried to move tires. Mostly she just looked really cool on the walk there with her sunglasses.

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I just want to point out the distant background in the pictures above and below. I live here. I know, can you even believe it because sometimes I can't? This city is beautiful!
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We had a playdate with Kathi and Sarah. We've had a few since the last time I blogged about it but they were spread out and plans were often fraught by unexpected illness or last minute schedule changes. We're back on track and it's a good, good thing. We were there for over 2 hours and when it was time to go (dinner time had passed and bedtime was fast approaching) I literally had to haul Ada out under my arm literally kicking and screaming.


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Check these two out. They're like old drinking buddies (Ada was double-fisting it there for a while). 

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Sarah is a hat-addict. She took a quick break to try on Ada's hair clip. She gave it an honest try but still prefers hats. 

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Kathi was on the other side banging on the plastic circles. The girls thought that this was hysterical. Like, nothing had ever been funnier in their whole lives ever. 

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Sliding now includes a quick lounge at the bottom. 


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Modern see-saw. Ada thought it was fun at first. Then she got worried followed by distinct unhappiness that included hanging on by any means necessary. Sarah, on the other hand, was an old pro and enjoying every second of the ride.
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Sarah and Kathi monkey-in' around. 


A few of my favorites from the day:

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Bottom line is that we'll keep doing playdates, playgroups, music class, etc. but I might start calling it something else. Something like, "we're meeting up with friends". Simple. Undefined. Much better.