Category: Love

Categories
Awesome Being a girl Drew Love Memoir Nonfiction Sentiment Travel

Love locked

My parents recently went on a trip to Italy and Spain. When they returned, they posted hundreds of pictures on Facebook, which I dutifully scrolled through last week, liking some so that they would know I had looked at them. One of the pictures they posted was this one, from Borghetto:

1425434_10200961380618306_2123677357_o

I have a vague memory of hearing about this phenomenon before, but thank goodness my uncle posted a link to the Love Lock wiki page, so I could refresh my memory. You write your names on a lock, fasten it on a fence, and then pitch the key into the river – because your love will never be undone. (It’s a little cheesy, but I think that kind of stuff works in Europe and in the Napa Valley.)

Thank goodness my uncle also posted a comment that there is a love lock bridge in Napa, just a quick trip north of here. Which set my mind to working…

Today is Drew’s and my fourth wedding anniversary. We didn’t make any plans to go out tonight. (I mean, Survivor is on.) (Also, we have this baby.) But over the last couple weeks, I’ve been tyring to think of something cool we could do together to celebrate.

I figured Napa would be a good day trip – we could get brunch, seal our love with a $6 padlock from Ace Hardware, and we could even take B with us. So on Sunday morning, we packed up plenty of baby accoutrements, stopped by the hardware store for a lock, and drove up to Napa.

When we found the restaurant I had randomly picked from Yelp, we saw the long line outside and drove on by. But we were in downtown Napa (I guess?) and so we just parked and walked around. We found a place that wasn’t crowded, and had plenty of outdoor seating, with a view of Napa Creek. After brunch, we walked the half mile to the Napa Valley Wine Train, where the bridge is located.

There wasn’t much call for ceremony, so I snapped the lock on and we took a couple pictures. We debated throwing the keys away, but in the end kept them as a keepsake. I like keepsakes. Then we walked back to the car, stopping on the way for milkshakes.

love lock

(It was pretty bright out.)

It was a fun trip. I’m glad we did it. I’m glad that my uncle posted all those comments (thanks, Uncle Pastor!), and that my parents uploaded 336 pictures of their trip, and that I took the time to look through them because I thought that’s what a good daughter would do.

Four years. We’ve now officially been married longer than we were just boyfriend-and-girlfriend (not counting the 9 1/2 months that we were engaged). That’s nice.

I take him for granted, sometimes. This has been a pretty emotional year, full of ups and downs (although even the downs have their silver linings). I think the roller coaster nature of this last year has shown me how strong our relationship is, which is good to know. I’ve heard that the first year of marriage, and the first year of parenthood, are two years that test relationships. So far we’re getting an A+.

Happy fruit-and-flowers anniversary! Four more years! Four more years!

Categories
Awesome Baby Beauty Being a girl cars Children Dreams Drew Family Fashion Food Humor Love Memoir Nonfiction Religion Sentiment Travel

A 1-year-old is an unreliable wedding guest

A couple weeks ago, we took B to a wedding. A francy wedding.

(I meant fancy, but I accidentally typed francy, and I immediately fell in love with that new word I just created.)

This francy wedding took place at St. Dominic’s Catholic Church in San Francisco. Drew and I were a little nervous about the whole day, for the following reasons:

a. wedding of a medium-close family member who might not be forgiving of 1-year-old antics;
b. ceremony at 3pm, reception at 6pm across the city;
c. our particular 1-year-old doesn’t always behave well in francy situations;
d. also we have to dress up

As a bonus thing to worry about, our car situation meant we were taking my parents’ bug, which is stick, so I had to drive.

We left plenty of time to get ready, get everything in the car, and get to SF. We got there about 10 minutes before 3:00, which was perfect. We parked right outside the church, which was perfect. I hopped into the backseat to pull B out of his carseat…and was greeted by an absolutely remarkable smell.

We opened the trunk (do you realize how small a VW bug trunk is??) and laid him down in it, button down shirt and all, to change his diaper. It wasn’t until I had the diaper half off, and Drew was digging through the diaper bag looking for the wipes, that I remembered I had used up the last wipe and forgotten to put a new package in. There were some exclamations of dismay. I mean, we were on the side of the road, outside a francy church, dressed in our best, trying to change our squirmy child in a trunk, and we had no wipes.

Luckily we had pacifier wipes, so we survived.

We got everything put together and went inside. The church was beautiful. We sat down in the back row, on the outside aisle, ignoring the waves from Drew’s family to come up and sit with them. Through a mixture of mouthing and mime, he told them, “Our kid is going to lose it so we need to be able to slip out quickly.”

We were sitting down for about 4 minutes, and the family members were being escorted in, when B opened his mouth and let out a “Aawwwk?” And then his eyes got big and he looked around, as he realized what a great echo there was in here. I jumped up and tried to jiggle him to keep him occupied, but once he started squawking, there was no turning around. We saw the bride come in, and then I ended up taking him out to the narthex, where we walked back and forth for the entirety of the service. Sometimes we went outside.

But B was smack in the middle of wanting to walk everywhere but needing to hold hands, so I spent an hour alternating between being kind of hunched over, and tossing his 25 pounds into the air to make him laugh.

After the service, we had all this time to kill, and we thought if we drove around he might take a nap in the car seat. Well, we were wrong. So we drove all around San Francisco, went up to Twin Peaks and got gas, and got caught in the worst ever traffic on the way downtown to the financial district, where the reception was.

Despite being the most anxious about the reception, it was actually really lovely. As soon as we got to the table, one of the waitstaff came over and said, “Do you want a high chair?” and Drew and I were both like, “YOU HAVE HIGH CHAIRS??” Also, the first toast of the evening was by the bride’s father, and rather than being champagne, it was a tequila shot with cinnamon and orange. So good. B lasted for a really long time before he started melting down (like 9pm – like 2 hours after his usual bedtime) – although right at the moment when we decided it was time to get him out, they started other toasts, and then one of the bridesmaids gave like a 15-minute toast and were trapped on the side of the room opposite the door.

Anyway. B’s first wedding, and it was francy, and it was inside a Catholic church, and it was late at night. And he did great!

francy2
Blurry backwards camera!
Categories
Baby Children Drew Holidays Love Memoir Nonfiction Sentiment Theatre Work Writing

Happy Halloween 2013!

So much to catch up on! So many blog posts behind!

First things first: I’ve been doing all the Halloween things possible. This includes reading Stephen King’s new book, Doctor Sleep, which I am loving so far; seeing Carrie the Musical at Ray of Light Theatre in SF, which was fun and campy and had some great effects; and carving a pumpkin for our office Halloween party pumpkin carving contest. (I threw together a very last-minute mime costume for the party.)

Also, I made B a dragon costume.

Halloween collageI realized about last weekend that he didn’t really have anywhere to wear it, so I decided I should take him to work. I picked him up from his grandparents for the party, and then he hung out with me at my desk for the rest of the afternoon. He did a really great job actually. I put up boxes in front of my cubicle, put down a blanket and a bunch of toys and books, and let him crawl around for awhile.

Also: I’m pretty sure today (at work) was the first time I saw him drink from a bottle while sitting up, and just tipping the bottle up (we usually have to recline him a little bit. Also, he’s been chomping at the bit to really break out and start walking, and today he went crazy at work, running all over the place by himself. So I think it’s official: we’ve got a toddler.

It’s so freaking cute. I wonder if he’s been kind of testy lately because he’s been on the verge of breaking into a glorious new skill? Let’s hope so.

My other project has been a costume for myself – not for Halloween but for a work event I have on Saturday, that happens to be a costume party. I think I’m going to do a dia de los muertos thing (although now I’m seeing stuff all over Facebook about how that’s just appropriation of an actual holiday, and it’s offensive, so oops). I still have a couple other things to put together for the costume but I’m sure it’ll be done by Saturday. And I’ll be happy to have it all behind me.

My other, non-Halloween-related, project is the Bench Project 3, which is a night of short plays taking place in San Jose, and mine is one of them. We are teching on Sunday morning (after my sure-to-be late Saturday night) and then going up on Monday night. I am excited, but this is also another weekend that makes me tired just anticipating it.

Happy Halloween!

 

Categories
Being a girl Books Love Nonfiction Sentiment Typography Writing

Anne of the Island

Green Gables typography 2 color edit 3

I’m still reading…but honestly a little bit ready to get through Anne’s House of Dreams so I can get back into “real” reading.

In the meantime, I’m still having fun with this typography thing. Although I might be delving too deeply into various background patterns. It’s starting to look like something that might be found on a Geocities website circa 2001, with glittery rain falling and roses waving back and forth. I’ll scale it back for the next one.

Categories
Awesome Children Family Food Friends Games Holidays Love Memoir Nonfiction Sentiment

First birthday party

Dear B,

We had your first birthday party on Sunday. We planned for it for weeks (dare I say months?). We made multiple trips to multiple stores to secure the decorations. We ordered things from different sites to supplement the store bought stuff. We did not one but two trial runs for your birthday cake. The day before the party, during both of your naps, we raced to the kitchen to bake EIGHT CAKE LAYERS (in batches of two) to ensure we had enough cake for everyone at the party (two four-layer cakes). After you went to bed, we made a vat of fruit salad, and I used three cans of frosting to put those cake layers together.

You probably had very little idea what was going on. You didn’t know who most of those people were. You won’t remember anything about the day. But trust me: it was great. It was a completely successful party. There were nigh on 40 people there, including 8 kids, 6 of whom were under the age of 5. There were your peninsula aunties and uncles, your BFF Tom, mommy’s coworkers, and of course family from both sides.

There was way too much food (of course) which neither daddy nor I really had time to eat. But don’t worry, we brought a lot of it home. (Two days later, we still have 2 gallon ziplocks of fruit salad to eat…so, get out your spoon…)

When we put your birthday cake in front of you and sang to you, everyone gathered around and you looked a little overwhelmed, and at the end of the song everyone clapped, so you clapped too, and then a wave of 40 people went “AWWWWW” and it startled you and you started crying, which made them laugh. We put a giant slice of rainbow layered cake in front of you, and it took some coaxing but you got your hands into it and you even ate some. You calmed down from crying, but we still seem to have a million pictures of you crying while clapping and cake-covered.

Daddy and I were so preoccupied during the party that we neglected to take many photos. But luckily our family members and friends are camera-happy and willing to share, so we’ll have plenty of visual memories.

You got so many presents that we don’t really know what do with all of them. We have hidden some to give to you later, when you’ve gotten used to the ones you have out now. (But your favorite things, of course, are still wiffle balls and plastic stacking cups.)

Everyone had a great time, and (of course) the party ran over the planned 2 hours. But despite me waking you from your morning nap around 10:45 so we could leave for your party, you were a total trooper, staying awake and mostly happy throughout the entire party, then the entire clean-up. On the way home, I sat in the backseat with you and tried to soothe you into falling asleep. You managed to stay awake until we got to the airport, at which time I watched you melt into sleep. You woke up 10 minutes later when we got home. Oops.

I think you had a lot of fun. I know I had a lot of fun. I’m glad so many people came. I’m glad we went all out for your first birthday. I’m glad everything went well. I’m glad it’s over and we made it through.

I’m not saying that parties or material possessions are an indicator of love. But, based purely on actual love, you are loved, little guy. Happy first birthday, and congratulations to all three of us for making it through your first year!

Love,
Mommy

Categories
Baby Being a girl Books Love Sentiment Typography

Typography: Anne of the Island 1

I read Anne of Green Gables in middle school, but I never got around to reading any of the sequels. About two years ago, I found sequels 2 through 5 at a used bookstore for $2 each, so I bought them, but then just stashed them on the shelf. (It wasn’t the first time.) Apparently there is at least one more that I should track down.

So I’m currently reading my way through the first 5 books (I did start at the beginning with Green Gables), which is just delightful. Gilbert Blythe, I’m pleased to report, is just as much of a hottie as certain of my friends have always maintained. Anne and Gilbert getting together, although obvious from the beginning, is a welcome payoff in Anne of the Island (#3).

This quote came from a letter Anne’s mother wrote to her husband, about Anne as a baby. (Obviously I changed the pronouns.) (The font is called Dark Roast; the arrangement is mine.)
Green Gables typography color edit

From that same book, there’s another quote, longer and more complex, which I’m hoping to tackle next.

Categories
Baby Children Endings Friends Love Memoir Nonfiction Sentiment

Closing the book

We borrowed a lot of baby stuff from friends. Some of the items we borrowed were for a very short, early, specific period of time, and were long ago returned. But we still had a handful of stuff borrowed from B’s friend M, who is a year older than he is.

Over the last week or so, we cleaned everything up to return it to M’s family. The biggest item was a Baby Einstein jumper that’s been living in the corner of our living room for the last 9 months.

IMG_3853

That is 3-month-old B trying out the jumper for the first time. Since then, his feet have grown to touch the ground; we’ve moved it up to level 2, level 3, and level 4; and (to be honest) he’s spit up on it countless times. He’s bonked his face into each part of it. He’s crawled underneath it and read books. He’s sat outside of it and practiced pulling up on it.

IMG_0133

He’s also pretended to be an astronaut in it.

And finally, it seemed like it was time to part ways. He’s getting too big to be in it any longer, and his feet are flat on the floor (just his toes are supposed to touch). It’s good if you need to put him down and know he won’t go anywhere, but half the time he fights going in there because he’d rather crawl around and grab everything he’s not supposed to.

So, yesterday we said goodbye to what was effectively our baby prison. I guess if we need to anchor him we can use the high chair or the crib for now. But we should probably just start getting used to the idea that he’s on the go and at his own whims.

photo (2)

And thus ends the great love affair between B and the jumper. In their last photo, he’s just chillin’ in the hot summer (don’t worry, he’s wearing a diaper), reading The Runaway Bunny and probably bouncing lazily.

Thank you for sharing, M and M’s family! I didn’t realize until tonight how many pictures I have of B in, on, and around the jumper. I’m sure I will always remember him crashing furiously around in it, squawking gleefully. But he’s slowly but surely turning into a toddler, so it’s time to put away babyish things.

Onwards and upwards!

Categories
Baby Being a girl Drew Family Love Memoir Nonfiction Sentiment

Happy 1st Father’s Day!

When I was pregnant, Drew and I did not find out the sex of our baby – we wanted to wait. But for some reason, during those 9 months, we both had a strong intuition that it would be a girl. Which means no one was more surprised than we when B was born and Drew announced, more astonished than ebullient, “It’s a BOY.”

B was born just after midnight, which means that aside from being tired from the hours of labor, we were also dealing with it being the middle of the night. And B, like probably most newborns who have just been shoved unceremoniously into the world, would not stop crying. Since I was sort of stuck in bed, at least for a little while, Drew took up the task of walking ceaselessly around, shhhhing and soothing. This was the beginning of the rocking/swinging dance that, for awhile, was sometimes the only way to put B to sleep.

He immediately started calling B “Buddy,” which at the time, I found baffling. Where did this “buddy” thing come from? Who actually says that, outside of old TV shows? When did we decide that was going to be a nickname? But then it just stuck. And while I say it occasionally, I still think of it as a father’s nickname for his son – something he’ll call B when they’re out fishing or playing catch or camping in the backyard or something. You know, guy stuff.

For the record, I’m sure that Drew would be an amazing dad even if our first baby was a girl. But I’ve become obsessed with watching this father-son relationship develop. I love watching my two boys together. I hope that B realizes how lucky he is to have such a great dad, and I hope he grows up to be an equally incredible friend and partner. He’s got some big shoes to fill, but he’s got the right role model to help him grow into them.

Happy Father’s Day!

husband

Categories
Awesome Family Humor Love Memoir Nonfiction Parents Sentiment

Happy Father’s Day, Dad!

In 5th grade, we had to do periodic book reports. For some people, that might have meant just standing up in front of the class and saying, “I liked the part when.” I don’t recall whether we were required to make our book reports more interesting, or just encouraged, or maybe I was just overeager and had too much time on my hands. But I remember book reports being A Thing.

When I read Black Beauty, my “report” took the form of a board game based on the book. The playing pieces were horses because I had many toy horses lying around. Inexplicably, I incorporated a bottle of “horse perfume” which was really just a giant green bottle with a stopper, and the stopper was sprayed with Lysol so it smelled like a vet’s office. I think it was called Eau de Horse, and there were flies drawn on the label. I have no recollection of how this was a part of the game.

The only other thing I remember is that part of my high-pressure performance was to roll the dice, count one-two-three, and land on a square saying, “You broke your leg. Game over,” and then I pulled out a cap gun and shot the horse figurine.

WHAT WAS THIS GAME ABOUT.

Confession #1: I never finished Black Beauty.

Confession #2: My dad was the mastermind behind this twisted board game. If you know him, then this probably doesn’t seem weird to you. In fact, this might sound strangely familiar to you. Maybe he helped you with a weird board game for a book you secretly never finished reading.

My dad is a quirky guy, who is willing to put himself out there, whether it’s in a skit or a performance or clowning or entertaining or just hamming it up behind the scenes. I admire that self-confidence and commitment.

I might not have inherited that same level of enthusiasm (unfortunately), but I think I did get a little bit of his artistic quirk. While making Black Beauty the Board Game, I showed my mom the label for the Eau de Horse, and her response was, “You can’t let Dad do the whole report for you.” I remember this very clearly because I was pretty much bursting with pride that she thought that Dad had created the label that I had written and illustrated all by myself! Clearly, if she mistook it for his work, it was amazing.

I learned two things from this experience:

1. Book reports are not always about the books; and

2. If I’m lucky, people will compare me to my dad and see the ways that I am like him.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad! Thanks for setting me on the right path early. I hope I am making you proud!

dad

Categories
Baby Love

Happy Mother’s Day

I wished for you, but I didn’t know how much I wanted you.
I planned for you, but I didn’t realize how much I couldn’t predict.
I prepared for you, but I couldn’t understand how much I didn’t know.
I worry about you every day; I cheer for you every day;
I obsess over you a little bit every day.
You’re one of my favorite people in the world
And you’re the best thing I’ve ever done
Even though you also complicate my life in many new and interesting ways.
You’re a bigger part of me every second that passes,
Even though every second takes you a tiny bit further away from me.
I will always be here for you, and don’t you ever forget it.
Happy Mother’s Day, baby, and thank you for picking me to be your mommy!