A day in the life: Things to remember come January

I do partly want to make sure I have some detail on how I spend my summer days so that I'll remember what this feels like and not despair when I am sitting through a dark January day when it seems like I am on a clumsy yet pressured track of work/parent/work/parent.  I also partly want to be sure I reflect on the importance of leisure and art in a larger philosophical sense, and to engage in the conversation that I see in books like Imagine, Drive, and in the New York Times about how are lives could be if we just relaxed.
I have given up on waking up early.  It's hard enough to do that during the school year.  Instead I've been allowing myself to stay up late (like right now) and spend time reading and writing for a couple hours before bed.  That way I can wake up with H in the morning and be forced out of bed but I've still gotten some self-expression into my daily cycle.  We have a slow morning and will alternate between reading books and taking care of business like getting dressed, making breakfast.  Breakfast is the only meal H will sit down at a chair for, wear a bib, and calmly eat until he is done.  Still sleepy I guess.

Then we have a "morning adventure" of some kind, but I always make sure we're out of the house around 10 going somewhere.  Beach, wading pool, community center, hiking... I make sure I have snacks for snack time, which is usually actually an early lunch.  It's a bit beyond snacking when we sit down to munch together.  The goal is to have an 11:30 snack and then lunch around 1pm, but sometimes those both get squished together to around noon. 

Naptime always happens either in the car on the way home or in a stroller walk - we have given up on trying to take naps in bed.  That is just two hours of rolling around and then grumpy kid for the rest of the day.  But the blessing of naps is the free time for mamma.  H will sleep for about two hours, and this gives me time to read, write, stretch, play music, watch Spanish drama online, etc., whatever my need is for the day.  Essentially, I get to binge on all things artsy almost every afternoon.  I was commenting to Ben that it feels amazing to even have mental capacity for all these things I'm interested in, whereas during the school year I tend to stare at the wall when I get home and if Hudson occupies himself for a few minutes. My brain is just fried.  I'm hoping that will change now that I'm a little more comfortable with my new school, but still the difference in how I function during the summer is pretty remarkable.  I find that even when H is not napping, I take advantage of spare moments much better - reading a magazine page here or an arts calendar there.  And I do it without feeling stressed or obligated, the most important thing.  "The Busy Trap" was an article in the NY Times that struck me -- and it's very in line with other things I've been reading recently -- by reminding me it's possible to be productive, ambitious, and profound without being "busy".  Huh.  Let's try it.

The events I've gone to in the evenings over the past month have also increased - our ability to plan ahead and get out plus my ability to go out on a weeknight has greatly expanded our options.  I went to see the B'shnorkestra  which is Sam Boshnack's project, at the Royal Room with my sister, and it was fabulous.  I have known Sam for years and love her dearly but that has no influence on my opinion that her music is freaking amazing.  It's crazy rhythm and jazz solos and original melodies and a great instrumentation for a 14-piece orchestra of musicians from across many genres.  Freaking amazing.  I have also gone to a reading of the Monarch Review contributors at the Third Place Pub with my dear friend Rhona, which was a great variety show of verse and story of all kinds from a great variety of local writers.  It got so many little ideas stinging the inside of my brain as I listened, and that's the best feeling.  I also went with Ben to see the  Caminos Flamencos show that toured up to Seattle from California a few weeks back.  We were able to say hi to other flamencos in the audience, many of whom I haven't seen in months, and we were mesmerized by the flamenco on stage.  The talent and the quality of the show were impeccable.  Jason McGuire is clearly one of the best guitarists in the country, as Ben told me he would be. 

I've also been taking ballet classes this summer and will be starting up a new round of flamenco classes next week.  All of these are things I may have to say goodbye to during the school year, but hopefully Ben and I will still get our regular dates.  We're planning to go to the Capitol Club on Tuesday night, which definitely won't happen during the school year.  Tonight we have a babysitter scheduled from 6-8pm.  What we will do or where we will go is undetermined, but so long as I can have a drink, look into my husband's eyes, and quietly tell him how much I love him without getting interrupted by a tiny plastic helicopter being flung past our heads, it will be a worthy event.

Wading pools, bathroom windows, and babysitting

 

I learned several things today.  In no particular order:

1. Always bring toys to the wading pool.  You need some goods to barter otherwise you're going to have the schmuck toddler who runs around stealing other water toys with nothing to give in return.  Also, don't eat all the snacks before the lifeguard calls all clear for chemical treatment.  Yesterday I literally had to tackle Hudson to keep him from running into the water while she treated it and all the other kids seemed to wait so patiently, not kicking and screaming.  I had that kid.  However, today I had food to hunker down with, and in the quiet I could hear some other toddlers screaming... perhaps I just couldn't hear them yesterday over Hudson's own noise...

2. Never lock the door without keys.  Our front door can be locked by turning the switch on the handle on the inside and then pulling it shut behind you.  Not cool if you've accidentally left your keys inside.  What's even less cool is when you get to within a block from home after walking in the midday heat from the Green Lake wading pool to realize you don't have keys, and figure that they must have fallen out at the lake so walk back in the heat to look again in the grass and ask the lifeguard, only to find nothing, because, of course, they are in your living room.  Back at home, and with toddler finally waking up from his nap (spent entirely in transit in the stroller to and from the lake twice), the only option is to grab one of Ben's painting ladders from the side of the building and set it up next to the bathroom window.  Distract toddler from trying to climb with you.  Try not to think about the chain of events that will ensue if you fall and land on either the concrete outside or the mass of tile and porcelain surfaces inside.  Try not to break the towel rack even though it seems to be the only thing between you and a concussion against the bathroom counter.  Cheerfully say hi to toddler as you appear from the front door as if nothing happened, except that you are considerably dirtier and more out of breath than when he saw you last.

3.  Have the babysitter come early.  But try not to have your ride show up too.  Hudson cries whenever anyone comes over, whether I'm staying or leaving.  He just assumes I'll be leaving.  We don't have enough friends come over to hang out, we only have babysitters.  (Although Hudson actually got used to his Aunty Sarah the other day.)  So, the babysitter came fifteen minutes before my departure and Hudson was just coming out from behind my back where he was hunkered down with his sippy cup, playing some very coy peekaboo, when my ride to the poetry reading came and his anxiety got all riled up again.  I almost might have been able to say goodbye without tears.  But you know, I will take it as it is, because at least he bawls because he loves me and is attached healthily.  Within fifteen minutes he's fine and playing enthusiastically. 

What a day.

Economic bilingualism?

Hudson is multicultural in so many ways!

In a casual playground interaction the other day at Matthews Beach, a mom told me her half-Mexican daughter would be attending Zoom preschool for the summer and that it was very difficult to get into.  I have heard other parents say similar things, and it looks like several programs run an average of $350/month for attending twice a week.  There are some, like La Escuelita that don't even post tuition rates on their website and I'm the kind of person who assumes that means it's too expensive for me, and even though it's a convenient location and it is clear they have a strong program, I probably will never even call them.
Currently I am our family's full-time income-earner, bringing home enough money to keep us going and to save a bit every month toward our imminent down payment on a townhouse.  Ben paints houses during the summer (anyone need painting?) and gives us enough extra cushion to allow for our uncontrollable extras like booze and seeing shows, attending flamenco workshops, etc.  We certainly do not have an extra $350 a month right now.  (We are even using state-offered health insurance for both Ben and Hudson, because adding even one of them to my program was prohibitively expensive.)  In short, bilingual preschool is not in our future unless Ben goes to work during the school year, in which case we'd also be needing to pay for child care when preschool is not in session...

The chain of money is dizzying, yet I'm dedicated to providing my child with bilingual experiences and education.  How do we go about this?

So far, I am simply counting my blessings that I am a fluent Spanish speaker and know of great resources other than preschool.  This makes me Hudson's sole exposure to Spanish so far, but at least I'm cheap.  Free Spanish exposure seven days a week is quite the bargain I think.  Perhaps by the time Hudson is school-aged we'll consider a two-parent income model so that we can afford a bilingual school.  Or I should call the school district today to get on a wait list for kindergarten at the John Stanford school, which I hear is also hard to get into...  My head is spinning.

At any rate, my dream is to travel to Spain (not to mention the rest of the Hispanic world) at least every two years, enroll my child in a bilingual school, and most importantly, just make some Spanish-speaking friends.  But my social ineptitude is another issue entirely.  Let's see what happens.

Flap your wings like a chicken!

Hudson flaps happily at... something in the garden.

We attended the Seattle Garden Show yesterday with the explicit aim of spending time in the Playgarden for kids they had set up there.  (And also to see the fabulous garden designs on the other side of the show as well.)  We each paid the entrance fee of $20, which I still feel a little queasy about,  but I feel like it was worth it.  Hudson was squirming in my arms while waiting in line so much that I was not about to question the ticket booth attendant about their pricing policy. 

When we finally made it inside and figured out where the Playgarden was, we had a super duper great time.  We had to make it through the trauma of watching the musician, Caspar Babypants, play the guitar that Hudson couldn't touch (trauma of all traumas).  He played fun songs though, and all the OTHER kids were dancing around and jumping up and down, not squirming on the floor and crying.  Sigh. 

Little Guy digging in the seeds!

The next challenge was going into the "chicken coop" and desperately wanting, then not wanting, to touch the hen.  There were bigger kids picking up the hen and touching it, and I think it was also a bit crowded (Hudson could not maintain physical contact with me at all times) so Hudson was both ecstatic and freaking out at the same time.  He was flapping his little arms at the chicken intently, but then he'd reach out for it, and then retreat emphatically and start crying.  The other adults were getting a kick out of it.  I'm glad we could provide some extra entertainment for you all. 

The digging gardens were the best.  That's where we found our rhythm.  There were planting boxes full of chicken feed that were set up like sand boxes with diggers and dumpers and sieves and cups.  Then there were planters full of real dirt and hidden vegetables that kids were digging out.  I can't imagine how much effort it took to set up that garden.  Hudson played in the seeds with the trucks (filling the dump truck, dumping it out) nearly forever and only had a couple toddler run-ins when sharing the dump trucks became an issue.  He loved discovering the vegetables, and when he found a carrot he immediately tried to eat it.

I was mildly observant at the Playgarden and saw that it is in fact a permanent place in Seattle, somewhere in South Seattle, and by the looks of their website it is a pretty cool place.  Next time I think I will take the trip down there instead of paying $40.  But at least we brought our own lunch, and we were able to walk around and see some other garden fun at the show before Hudson descended into total pre-nap and overcrowded grumpiness.  He was happy again in his backpack as we walked up towards capitol hill where papa had parked the car, because there was traffic and taxis and trucks and other favorite vehicles. 

Thanks for a fun morning, Garden Show!

Love Stories

My two greatest loves

I am perhaps influenced by how many articles I'm reading recently devoted to love, or perhaps I have been doing the thinking on my own. I can't tell anymore.  But wherever it comes from, I am finding myself compelled to reflect on my relationships and my happiness and to share this joy.  I have been reading about the physiological importance of kissing and holding hands as part of healthy marriages, of the importance of touch for a baby's and child's learning, and about the importance of emotional stability for one's own success.

I usually hate Valentine's Day and the commercialism behind it but I am getting a little behind the idea of the holiday this year just as a way to encourage some meditation on the good things in life and a way to jump start the positivity I want to bring into my everyday life.  Enough of this stress that holds me in its clenched fist.  Right??

I've been wanting to tell the story of how Ben and I met, and I'll try to keep it brief.  This is one of my meditations on love.
Ben and I met in Melinda Hedgecorth's flamenco class in Seattle in March 2004.  I was taking her dance classes after not dancing for seven or eight months, and Ben was accompanying them on guitar after not doing classes for quite a while.  I don't know if it was love at first sight, but pretty close.  I knew we'd connect, if not fall in love.  It was easy, and genuine, to talk to him before and after class and it felt like we were really becoming friends.  When he actually asked me for my number, in May, and asked me to see Eric and Encarna with him at the Capitol Club, I had to ask my friends at work the next day if they thought it was really a date.  Duh.

Since I already had plans to move to Wisconsin and live with my sister starting about a month later, I called Ben as soon as I figured out it was a date, to re-schedule our get-together for sooner.  How about tomorrow?  Yes.  By the time we did go to the Capitol Club a week later, I was in love and we had been spending every day together.

I left for Wisconsin four weeks later with the plan that Ben would come visit over the summer and see if he could get his own apartment and job.  I was sleeping in my sister's den, and we were looking for a new place to move ourselves.  The visit was a success and sure enough Ben came to Wisconsin around September and moved in to an apartment about ten blocks from our new place.  It was only a matter of months before we realized we were just wasting rent money having him live down the road, so he moved in to my bedroom with me and shared the apartment with my sister and her dog and cat.

We had a rough year in Wisconsin, but we were falling in love, totally self-obsessed.  We got engaged on our one-year anniversary after dinner at the restaurant where I was busing tables, and it was a totally planned engagement.  We had been talking about it, Ben spilled the beans that he'd bought me a ring, and frankly, I told my sister as soon as I got to Wisconsin that I'd be marrying him some day.  She didn't believe me at first.

We left for Spain a year after landing in Wisconsin, and I started grad school at NYU in Madrid that September.  Ben taught some English and took guitar lessons.  I'm so glad we were there for a year, and I sometimes wish we'd stayed longer but at the time we had several reasons for wanting to come back.  We planned a Seattle wedding at the Japanese Garden, with help from Ben's mom while we were abroad, and I bought my wedding dress with my mom in Boston on a trip to the States for some job interviews.  We took the marriage both very seriously and not at all seriously.  I think we were dedicated to the process of reflecting on our relationship and preparing for a new life, but I also think we knew that marriage in itself meant little to us and that we could decide to be un-married at any point it felt logical.  We did not connect the "marriage" to our deep love as directly as many do.

So the following summer, we moved back to the States, got married in Seattle, and then settled in Pennsylvania for my teaching job and it was perhaps the most intense summer of our lives, but it was also very real.  I felt like a grownup.  Slowly the domestic life expanded... a cat... a dog... planning the pregnancy... and not once did it end up feeling like a "sell-out" or the lame version of growing up that we all fear in our youth.  I think we stayed true to our passions and to our ideals pretty well.

We've moved back to Seattle, full circle, arriving the same summer our marriage filled five years.  We have had our fights over the years and we've pissed each other off but we also accept each other and love each other profoundly and we encourage each other and we find tiny ways to celebrate love and give thanks.  We are constantly trying to balance intimacy with space, passion with obligation, career with family, like anyone.  We will always be working at it.  We are starting out, yet again.  We are helping each other through the transition and we have each taken turns holding the other tear-streaked face on our shoulder.  Hopefully this has been one of our last major moves, and we can truly settle, and continue to travel and experience the world from a great home base.

If I didn't have Ben I don't know what I'd do.  I don't know how I'd keep my sanity in all this (job, baby, art).  Ben is a dedicated partner and open communicator. He's a wonderful dad, and I don't even think he knows how talented he is in this.  He is a dedicated stay-at-home dad and even though winters are hard, he pushes through and brings love and creativity to Hudson's expanding life.  And for my part, I am definitely still in love.

The morning after: "normal" life

Last night Cuerdas y Clavos had a show at Agua Verde in the U District and I'm certainly proud of putting on a flamenco show that was rehearsed and prepared and fun.  We all made mistakes of course - rhythms got lost, tempos got rushed, voices cracked, turns failed, but overall Ben, the singers, and I put on a good show for our friends who made up most of the audience.  It felt good to sweat and put more than "rehearsal" energy in to the dance pieces.  There were also, of course, many moments that for us as a group lost their magic because of the noise and distraction of the restaurant.  Rehearsal can bring quite a bit of duende in the focus of the living room environment.  It all balances out I suppose.

I drank wine, we ate Mexican food at a table in the corner at the end of the night, and we all parted ways after standing with our equipment and costumes chatting on the sidewalk.  I was exhausted.  We went right home and relieved our babysitter who had put Hudson to bed about an hour earlier, and I could barely bring myself to put on pyjamas and wash all my makeup off. 

Sitting on the bedroom floor and watching my son sleep in bed was possibly the most moving moment of the evening.  His still, contented face and his gently rising chest were all I needed to calm down and come back to my other reality.  And this morning, even though I was exhausted, I was so excited when Hudson woke up and looked up at me, immediately ready to jump out of bed and run around.  I missed him last night.  So we got ourselves ready for the day, we treated ourselves to breakfast at the Kona Kitchen, and walked home in the rain.  Normal life resumes. 

And then, there was Rubina's cante class this afternoon, which was a great way to look at dance and cante structure with the eyes of "the morning after" and review things that I need to work on.  Flamenco is a bottomless process and bottomless source of insight.  So we keep going...