I worry periodically (every day) that my habit of agreeing to do something with Naomi- but just not right this minute- is going to get me into trouble. She reminds me constantly of things I just agreed to. "You didn't get me a napkin!" "You forgot to get my milk!" These are the before 7:30 a.m. examples...the setup for tonight's anecdote is tortuous- feel free not to bear with me. But anyway...
Last night I took Naomi to to the store for our usual bread-bananas-eggs run. In the self-checkout line we encountered a kid (a thirteen or fourteen year old boy) with a chihuahua in his hoodie (peeking out over the top of the zipper). Naomi was delighted by this, and immediately asked me if she could have a pet that she could put into her coat. She did her usual elaboration, a dog, a puppy, maybe a cat? I tried to explain to her (ridiculously- why do I always think it's best to have a real conversation about everything?) that she is so little that there does not exist in the world a dog or cat small enough (puppies and kittens exempted) to snuggle in the front of her jacket. As I am typing this I cannot believe that I have these conversations, and that I am now sharing them, but you know, this is the setup for the real anecdote. Where we left it was, she would have to get a little bigger before we could make this dream a reality.
Today when we were walking Luna, I was pretending to be a giant, for whatever reason, maybe because after this morning's princess party for Naomi's school chum, she pretended to be Cinderella the whole day. When I am pretending to be someone other than Mom, Naomi loves to talk to me. She will sometimes say, talk like the wicked gnome! (Don't ask...) So she really enjoyed talking to her mom talking in a slightly slower, deeper voice (really, I don't try that hard). Tonight, on the way home from a super fun dinner outing involving pizza and spumoni (mmmmm), she wanted me to be the giant again. As chianti was part of my dinner, I was game for some more giant impersonation. So, as usual, she got going, telling the giant anecdotes from her life, inviting the giant to admire the Hello Kitty painted on her cheek (by Cinderella, no less). Then she told the giant about the kid she had seen at the grocery store, with the dog in his jacket.
"I asked my mom if I could get a pet like that," she said. I asked her what her mom said.
"She said I could when I get bigger," she said. "But it's probably not going to happen."
It was so funny at the time. The "daddy giant" and I laughed out loud in the car, crossing the bridge back to our city. But now I'm not laughing.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Monday, November 10, 2008
The Out of Towners
Stand back, people, lest ye be seared by my white hot streak of good luck. At the company zoo day, which we attended in the pouring rain a number of weeks back, we arrived at the dripping lunch tent just in time for the door prize drawing, and just as they were calling my name. Really? I won a backpack with the company logo. Sweet. Or whatever. Then, two weeks ago? I filled out my charitable pledge thing at work, clicked the button to be entered into the raffle, and was promptly awarded a $15 itunes gift card. Last Wednesday, after using my Pacific Science Center membership card to get in free to the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry (aw yeah!), scoring a really nice free lunch from my Portland friends, and driving two three hour stretches with two tiny kids in the back seat with very little screaming or complaining, I arrived at our hotel, only to be greeted by this:
Right? The result was an Oregon-themed gift basket, including pickled asparagus, pickled, um, pickles, chocolate with hazelnuts, huckleberry jam, berry candy, and a delightfully retro rolodex card with the hotel's information on it. The hotel was in Pendleton, Oregon, a town which claims some Old West or cattle drive heritage, and has intriguing place names like Emigrant Trail and Poverty Flats (which is actually out of town a ways...). It is two thirds of the way to Boise, most relevantly, so we stopped there to avoid another long three and a half hours.
I admit to being easily swayed when someone gives me free food, but the hotel was super. The girls loved it too- we had a suite, which meant there was much running from room to room. They had a free cocktail hour, which I declined (not without some struggle- especially after another grouchy, highway-worn mom made a clearly audible remark about how no children were allowed in the bar part of the "lounge"...). They had an awesome luggage cart, which the girls rode on together in an effort to make our all girls' road trip look even more like a pilot for a family-friendly Friday evening sitcom.
They had a pool, which we swam in the next morning, before enjoying our tasty free breakfast in the same lounge. OK, Pendleton chamber of commerce, I will be checking my account for your deposit, thank you very much.
The real point of this journey, of course, was not to stay in a hotel in cattle drive country, but to visit our friends (including a new friend, 2 month old H.) in Boise. We had a really nice visit. My friend, besides being a new mom, is a wonderful cook and a great hostess. It was even better than the hotel (except for the luggage carts...).
On Friday morning we went to this big indoor play place, normally a peaceful experience (said my friend), involving sipping a latte on a couch while your tots play with whatever's nearby. This Friday, though, was a no-school day, and all the local elementarians had swarmed the place. When I took Naomi to the bathroom, Muriel skillfully eluded my friend's watch, and found her way inside and to the top of the play structure (for 5 and ups), which was crowded with eight year olds. She thoroughly enjoyed it, and I got to have a nice little adrenaline dump. Then she found her awesome beatnik niche:
Friday night Jim flew into Boise to join the fun, and on Saturday we ate pumpkin pancakes (autumnul and syrupy!) and had a walk by the river. Still a little fall left in Boise!
I will spare you the part where I say, as I always do, that of course the real delight in this trip was spending time with our friends. And to be honest, getting back home to a full night's sleep where Muriel wasn't waking up squawking because she's not in her cushy crib was one of the highlights of the trip as well. But yeah, seeing friends is good, good stuff. Do you think these guys will be taking road trips to get together when they're our age?
Right? The result was an Oregon-themed gift basket, including pickled asparagus, pickled, um, pickles, chocolate with hazelnuts, huckleberry jam, berry candy, and a delightfully retro rolodex card with the hotel's information on it. The hotel was in Pendleton, Oregon, a town which claims some Old West or cattle drive heritage, and has intriguing place names like Emigrant Trail and Poverty Flats (which is actually out of town a ways...). It is two thirds of the way to Boise, most relevantly, so we stopped there to avoid another long three and a half hours.
I admit to being easily swayed when someone gives me free food, but the hotel was super. The girls loved it too- we had a suite, which meant there was much running from room to room. They had a free cocktail hour, which I declined (not without some struggle- especially after another grouchy, highway-worn mom made a clearly audible remark about how no children were allowed in the bar part of the "lounge"...). They had an awesome luggage cart, which the girls rode on together in an effort to make our all girls' road trip look even more like a pilot for a family-friendly Friday evening sitcom.
They had a pool, which we swam in the next morning, before enjoying our tasty free breakfast in the same lounge. OK, Pendleton chamber of commerce, I will be checking my account for your deposit, thank you very much.
The real point of this journey, of course, was not to stay in a hotel in cattle drive country, but to visit our friends (including a new friend, 2 month old H.) in Boise. We had a really nice visit. My friend, besides being a new mom, is a wonderful cook and a great hostess. It was even better than the hotel (except for the luggage carts...).
On Friday morning we went to this big indoor play place, normally a peaceful experience (said my friend), involving sipping a latte on a couch while your tots play with whatever's nearby. This Friday, though, was a no-school day, and all the local elementarians had swarmed the place. When I took Naomi to the bathroom, Muriel skillfully eluded my friend's watch, and found her way inside and to the top of the play structure (for 5 and ups), which was crowded with eight year olds. She thoroughly enjoyed it, and I got to have a nice little adrenaline dump. Then she found her awesome beatnik niche:
Friday night Jim flew into Boise to join the fun, and on Saturday we ate pumpkin pancakes (autumnul and syrupy!) and had a walk by the river. Still a little fall left in Boise!
I will spare you the part where I say, as I always do, that of course the real delight in this trip was spending time with our friends. And to be honest, getting back home to a full night's sleep where Muriel wasn't waking up squawking because she's not in her cushy crib was one of the highlights of the trip as well. But yeah, seeing friends is good, good stuff. Do you think these guys will be taking road trips to get together when they're our age?
Monday, November 03, 2008
Election Eve
It's a spooky night. Not really- it's a wet and average night. I have watched some Frontline, gotten the manager at Barnes and Noble to subvert her no returns without a receipt rule for me, wandered hopelessly lost around the remodeling in progress QFC (grocery store), and returned home in time to upload some Halloween pics, if the internet gods will smile upon me. So far, only frowning.
There is so much to write about. I have fifty little posts in my head. About my crazy week at work, and my zen breakthrough on what a gift genuine feedback is, even when it stings. About a family of suckers who showed up to an empty church parking lot and still didn't remember it was daylight savings day. About my love hate relationship with campaign coverage. About my plans for an old school girls' road trip (this week!). About my kid getting moved up to the Orca class, and how stoked she is that she got to use GLUE! About my newly formed fond wish that people would be more evangelical about the things they love that are not religion or politics related.
But it is late, and although I would like to say that I will be up early, driving elderly Democrats to the polls, really I will be furiously working away, hoping to make a lot of progress to make up for the three days I will be taking off. I will say this, though- tonight at yoga, when we did the thing we do at the beginning, where we quiet our thoughts, and get ready for our practice (or whatever, I don't know), I quieted my thoughts, but I swear in my quiet head I could hear the thoughts of people all around, all over the country. I could hear the excitement and the optimism and the thrill. Maybe these are all the voices in my head? You only get one vote, guys.
I don't have to tell the four people who read this blog to vote. I trust you. But I can't wait, I cannot wait for tomorrow.
Ah, now the upload thing is finally working again, so, pictures:
How's this for a cute witch? The not-too-menacing cat was her idea. I thought since she was a witch, I didn't need to bother with the detangler and comb wrestling match. So yeah, that's some witchy hair.
This was at the Halloween party we went to last Saturday. If Muriel could talk, and swear, she would say, "Are you effing kidding me with this, Mom?!"
Even Naomi the witch recognizes costume folly when she sees it.
This is the actual night of Halloween. Naomi was asked by her photographer to make a good witch face. Yeah! In the background, Muriel settles once and for all how she feels about her penguin getup. She did wear her Dieter from Sprockets black turtleneck and leggings, with her penguin hat, for the door to door.
Finally, I must relate that of the two groups of trick or treaters we got, one of them was our next door neighbor boy, wearing a John McCain mask and carrying a water rifle (?). Naomi must have really picked up on my amusement, because for two days she has been relating the funny anecdote of a kid coming to the door dressed like John McCain. I guess you have to hear her tell it- but really, it's funny.
Next entry: Back from Boise!
There is so much to write about. I have fifty little posts in my head. About my crazy week at work, and my zen breakthrough on what a gift genuine feedback is, even when it stings. About a family of suckers who showed up to an empty church parking lot and still didn't remember it was daylight savings day. About my love hate relationship with campaign coverage. About my plans for an old school girls' road trip (this week!). About my kid getting moved up to the Orca class, and how stoked she is that she got to use GLUE! About my newly formed fond wish that people would be more evangelical about the things they love that are not religion or politics related.
But it is late, and although I would like to say that I will be up early, driving elderly Democrats to the polls, really I will be furiously working away, hoping to make a lot of progress to make up for the three days I will be taking off. I will say this, though- tonight at yoga, when we did the thing we do at the beginning, where we quiet our thoughts, and get ready for our practice (or whatever, I don't know), I quieted my thoughts, but I swear in my quiet head I could hear the thoughts of people all around, all over the country. I could hear the excitement and the optimism and the thrill. Maybe these are all the voices in my head? You only get one vote, guys.
I don't have to tell the four people who read this blog to vote. I trust you. But I can't wait, I cannot wait for tomorrow.
Ah, now the upload thing is finally working again, so, pictures:
How's this for a cute witch? The not-too-menacing cat was her idea. I thought since she was a witch, I didn't need to bother with the detangler and comb wrestling match. So yeah, that's some witchy hair. 
This was at the Halloween party we went to last Saturday. If Muriel could talk, and swear, she would say, "Are you effing kidding me with this, Mom?!"
Even Naomi the witch recognizes costume folly when she sees it.
This is the actual night of Halloween. Naomi was asked by her photographer to make a good witch face. Yeah! In the background, Muriel settles once and for all how she feels about her penguin getup. She did wear her Dieter from Sprockets black turtleneck and leggings, with her penguin hat, for the door to door.
Finally, I must relate that of the two groups of trick or treaters we got, one of them was our next door neighbor boy, wearing a John McCain mask and carrying a water rifle (?). Naomi must have really picked up on my amusement, because for two days she has been relating the funny anecdote of a kid coming to the door dressed like John McCain. I guess you have to hear her tell it- but really, it's funny.
Next entry: Back from Boise!
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