transitioning to (at the risk of being condescending) a "big girl bed"

congratulations, adah, for such a smooth transition! for three consecutive nights there have been no escapes, no toddler wandering down the hall at strange hours of the night, no falling down the stairs in midnight confusions, and no pleads to get into bed with moms. there was one falling out of the bed and head bonking incident, but apparantly it wasn't too bad because she didn't even remember it the next morning.
we were going to get her a bed for her 2nd birthday but she was acknowledging out loud that she wasn't ready, and still seemed pretty attached to her crib. plus, we were worried about some potential escape artist tendencies, so we waited, and every once in a while she brought up the bed she was someday going to grow into, and kept mentioning ikea. apparantly this store has become lodged into her memory. we went there several months ago (not on a weeknd, thank god) and she spent the better part of the afternoon jumping on each of the beds in the kid's section, and wandering in and out of various bed tents. i remember thinking, “who needs an OMSI membership? we can just come here on rainy days!” i was kind of kidding, but then i looked around and it appeared that other mothers had been thinking the same thing. it was a kid palace, this warehouse of swedish particleboard, and we had a damn good time crawling in and out of the beds that didn't belong to us.

but to continue the bed transition story:

my coworker caught me browsing through craigslist on the last day of work, when I was supposed to be doing end-of-the-year teacherey things. she saw the picture of a trundle bed i was looking at, and said, “i might have a bed for you,” and to make a long-ish story short, she gifted adah with this incredible bed she grew up with, with its undeneath stuffed animal storage, side drawers, and attached bookshelves, which is absolutely perfect for adah's tiny little room. thank you, miss andy metzler, for this wonderful gift!

after andy and i got the awkward bundle upstairs (anne, our designated lifter, was out of town), there were literally gasps of delight coming out of the kid's mouth. there was some jumping up and down, some celebrating of her new comforter that has pictures of animals driving various vegetable cars on it, and some practice climbing in and out of it. we put it together early in the morning and she talked about it all throughout the day. she also started to say things like, “we're going to give my crib to another kid!” that was a good sign.

so it has been a marvelous thing, this new bed. i can't tell you how sweet it is, how very judy kintner-like it is, to be able to cuddle up together before bed and read together while lying down and resting. last night i actually fell asleep in her bed after getting through a stack of books. she nudged me and said, “mama, get out of my bed! here, i'll move so you can get out!” so I stumbled out of her room, tiredly celebrating her bursting independence.

on trying to like the bus:

for many years i've hated the bus. i mean, don't get me wrong-- i'm a big fan and advocate of public transit, and i intensely admire the people who use it, but when it comes down to it, i'm a little lazy and always short on time, and let's just say that there are many things i think i have to carry with me at all times, preferably in a trunk. things like a stash of reusable bags in case i have to stop at the grocery store, the ergo carrier just in case adah wants to be worn again, the stroller (just in case), and other important things like my tennis racket that i haven't used for at least three years. these items do not fit into my regular bag, which is crowded with water and cameras-- lifelines as far as i'm concerned. oh, and snacks. for those of you who are familiar with adah's eating habits, you know that she needs to be consuming food at all times.

in addition to a commitment to car dieting for the planet's sake, which the last couple summers have been characterized by, my class at portland state last week was a motivator for me to begin weaning myself from the car and its trunk. i have to say that despite a couple annoying occurrences which i remembered were routine about bus riding (like, no matter what time you leave to catch the bus, it will start pulling away 10 seconds before you arrive at the stop), i was able to have some nice experiences. in fact, for your benefit and mine, i've even spent some time creating a list of bus taking benefits. here they are: you get to know those in your neighborhood, you get to read sections of the oregonian that have been left on a bus seat, you get to be an anthropologist and spy on conversations, you get to NOT drive your car and get mad at people, you get to catch up on your reading (if that sort of thing doesn't make you puke), you get exercise walking to and from stops (call it cognitive restructuring, or whatever, but it helps!), and you might even get to witness some damn good people doing some damn good things for the world.

for instance, one morning i decided to actually take my headphones off and talk to the guy who had been getting on the bus every morning with two huge duct taped bags full of bread. we ended up having the nicest conversation. i didn't learn his name, but i did learn that he goes to various bakeries to collect bread donations to deliver to elderly folks downtown.

it was also helpful for me to take mental notes on all of the places I could get to on one single bus, which were many. but the only problem is the thing I mentioned at the beginning of the post: the dilemma of time. i didn't mind riding downtown, but what about on days when you have lots of errands or need to go to bob's red mill for a 50 pound sack of flour with a 2 year old? or the zoo? sure, it's easy enough to get there, but according to the trimet clock, it takes 54 minutes to get there. um, that would be like 2 hours round-trip, when I could drive in 12 minutes each way. with a trunk. i realize i'm writing from a very privileged perspective, but what's a girl to do? i need inspiration!

happy summer!

above: a dad, a sugar snap pea popsicle, a kitchen sink bath


adah and zanna: heartbreakingly cute and mischievous together

adah's grocery list:

for those of you who are having a difficult time deciphering the emergent literacy patterns above, this is adah's most current ro-shery list, and it includes, according to her, "broccoli, cookies, bananas, peaches, and toilet paper." there you have it.

on crappiness and altruism

i had the crappiest day. until i didn't.

by 6:30 a.m. i knew it was best to just call in sick and stay in bed with hours of bad tv and a pile of toast and tea. like every other teacher with 6 days left in the school year, i am trying to find an ounce of energy to give to my kids before they graduate, but i'm just so fried.

i also knew i had an appointment at 1:30 in the afternoon to get my skin cancer lesion sawed off, and i think there was more emotionality and anxiety connected to this than i really knew about at the forefront of my brain. but i went to work anyway, and before 1st period even started, i had to eat 11 cookies from the staff lounge and cry a little in my closet. by 9:15 i was outwardly in tears during a read aloud about emmett till and the unjust trial surrounding his case. i needed over the rhine and a nap.

i guess it was no surprise that by the time i arrived at the mother joseph clinic, i was over-exhausted by my oversensitivities, and was in no mood to acquire a scar or deal with the doctor people. you know how i feel about the doctor people. it started off fine enough-- there was a student on her first day of her externship, and she seemed pleased about how supportive i was. i put the robe on, and the dr. came in. he started off by telling me that my basal cell carcinoma was the best type of skin cancer to have, and then he took a look and said, "but actually, that's the worst place to have it." so then a conversation ensued in which he was drawing pictures of how big the scar would be, which was bigger than i thought-- almost 2 inches across the top of my chest-- and then he asked me if i would like to see a plastic surgeon instead. "would it just be for cosmetic reasons?" i asked, "because i dress pretty conservatively, so not many people would actually see it." i wanted to throw in, "and just so you know, i've been wearing the same shirt and pair of jeans since i gave birth, and they happen to cover this area pretty well," but i just decided to listen instead. to make a long story short, he left the room to get on the phone to see if this would be covered by my insurance, and in the meantime, i made a 45 second consultation call as well. when he came back in, i said, "let's just take the thing off right now, " and he said "no, you were on the phone too long and you needed too much information and you'll have to come back because i have another patient in 14 minutes," and in short, we began to argue, and i ended up practically closing the door on his elbow and having a jerry springer-like episode in the waiting room, where i demanded a co-pay refund, while my mom stood in the background almost yelling, "WHAT? HE DIDN'T SERVE YOU? IT'S BECAUSE YOU LOOK LIKE A LESBIAN!!!" which is one of her favorite things to say.

which was embarrassing.

so it was a long day. i cancelled my tutoring in exchange for a bath, which immediately went from hot to tepid once adah noticed and wanted to get in, too. we cooked dinner and afterwards there was a knock on the door-- 2 young people raising money for the democratic party. after i said i didn't have any cash, adah said, "i have some money!" and proceeded to get her black patent pleather purse whose inside pocket contained five single dollar billsthat came from the insides of plastic eggs at easter, thanks to grandma. without getting into the perils of conservatism within the democratic party, i asked her if she wanted to give her money away or save it, and she counted out each single, one by one, and handed it out to the two young hopefuls.

our sweet little altruist.

urban homesteading: replacing convenience with craft

this morning i attended my first urban homesteaders meeting. i've been shy and retreating lately, so i wasn't sure i wanted to jump right into a group of people i've admired from afar but didn't know. but anne was encouraging, and my mom said, "hell, meg, just go and find your butter making people, and make some homemade dental floss while you're at it." so i did. ish.

at first we went around and discussed why were there, and i would have been completely intimidated had i not been inspired by all the passionate commentary about the ph balance of various dairy products, the cheese making classes mary teaches beside her sheep, the fermentation of vegetables, and in general, the high level of awareness that there is, in fact, a loud political statement that evolves from pickled foods.

it wasn't a skill meeting-- we weren't preserving or baking or culturing or crafting anything. actually, we were crafting something, but it was words: the meeting mostly revolved around developing a mission statement for the group, which involved philosophical tangents mixed with some serious finicky english teacher tendencies. i arrived home an hour and a half later than expected because we were going back and forth at the table, hammering out the important stuff like, "should we use the words 'discover and share' or 'promote?' would 'self sustainability' make it clear that we're actually very local-community dependent?"

i am a total novice in the urban homesteading scene, and i have a long way to go before playing little house on the prairie, but i could handle the minute particularities of these discussions with confidence, so i was ultimately glad i went. even if there was no churning involved.