wild*life

It seems we’ve run into a bit of bad luck over the last few weeks of 2012.  I think it all began when our washing machine encountered some sort of computer glitch and stopped working.  James has always been a firm believer of things happening in threes.  Based on the following stories I’m about to tell, maybe it comes in multiples of three?  There are several updates to share so I’m going to write them in a series of “episodes.”

Please excuse any typos… I’m writing this wearing my fingerless homeless glittens (you know, gloves/mittens).  Though they came from Banana Republic so I’m not sure they really qualify.  I’ll explain in a few episodes.

OK, so several weeks ago Fernando finally showed-up with our first install of lower cabinets for the kitchen.  We had gotten so tired of the lull in activity that we brought the hardwood floor guys in to lay down the floor, which at least allowed us to walk from the hall to the laundry room.  And created a nice echoey space for preschool wrestling and dance parties.

The one caveat to laying down the unfinished floor before installing the cabinets?:  We absolutely cannot have a flood.  If the unfinished hardwood were to get wet, it would warp and buckle and ruin everything and we’d have to start over…  You totally know where this is headed, right?

So one day in November, while I’m on sabbatical, James is helping Fernando bring huge 10 foot cabinets into the house through various doorways and windows.  I’m on this very laptop checking e-mail or doing internet Christmas shopping research or something (really, when you’re retired, who can remember what you were doing or the day of the week for that matter?).  I’m in the living room and all of a sudden I hear what is clearly swearing in Portuguese, what is clearly swearing in English, and what is clearly the sound of gallons of water flooding my kitchen.  I leap from my chair, stop in the kitchen doorway to see Fernando being shot in the face with steaming hot water while he holds his hands in vain over the geyser under the sink, and run to the bathroom for as many towels as I can carry.  Fortunately James ignored Fernando’s suggestion to get a wrench and went straight for the water shutoff valve.

I was so mad I was shaking.  I had to leave the house.  It’s honestly taken me weeks to write this blog as my hands were trembling in fury.  How exactly this episode occurred is still unclear and probably always will be.  Something about having to remove the on/off valve of said pipe in order to cut the cabinet to fit and the vibration turning the water on again… blah blah blah blah blah blah.  Fortunately we sopped up the water quickly and the only visible damage was some darkening of the wood’s end-grain.

The upside?  Now he really owes me…

Last weekend we all got hot chocolate, strapped into the Toureg, and set out for our annual hour-long wait/pilgrimage to the Los Gatos Festival of Lights.  Just like last year, I had the best seat in the house.  I got to hold both Jakey and Natesy in my lap, cuddle and kiss them and sing Christmas carols as we watched Santa shooting hoops and the pirate ship’s canon and various elves, dinosaurs, vegetables and a big tooth— all in the most dazzling array of colors.

As we were crawling along in the car, waiting to get to the entrance, Jake miraculously remembered that they gave us candy canes as we were leaving last year.  It seems sugar creates indelible memories.  So I’m sitting in the backseat between the two Britax thrones attempting to manage the hot chocolate course.  As we’re sitting there, I ask, “So JJ, what does Mama want from Santa Claus?”

And he dutifully replies, “An iPad, a rocket, and a whale rescue mission.”

Well at least he remembers how much I really want a rocket…  But, what is a whale rescue mission?  Some kind of excursion out of Monterey Bay?

Turns out this is a whale rescue mission.

Up until this point, Nathaniel has been a man of few words.  In some ways we’ve welcomed the reprieve from holding-up the other end of yet another 16-hour conversation.  But there is also that kernel of worry that your baby will forever sound like Tarzan.

So it has come as quite a surprise that Nate is finally producing numerous examples of spontaneous speech.  There’s baby! and trea! (treat) and tree (tree).  Plus jacket and zip it and dip and balloon and yeah and orange and cheese and no (nose) and poom (spoon) and tees (teeth).  He’s especially into baBOT (robot) and bamboom! (bamboo).  I don’t know why my children have always been early identifiers of bamboo… maybe if we lived in China.  He’s even saying pease (please) and thank you.

Plus he’s repeating what we say and trying to say phrases when we ask him.  Jakey’s always exclaiming, “Mama, Nakesy said scone!”  (Or whatever vocabulary he’s testing him on that morning.)

But, a couple of weekends ago we were all piled into our bed early in the morning.  Jake’s laying there, drinking his milk and he says, “Hey Nakesy, can you talk yet?”

Of course Nate replies without hesitation, “Gnoh.”

Back when I was dating James in college, there was a moment I’ll never forget.  We were driving along in his truck (yes, I got a lot of flak from my high school boy friends, two words, that I was dating a cowboy) and somehow we broach the topic of favorite pizza toppings.  It was early in our relationship.  A potentially make or break moment:

He says, “Hawaiian.”

“Pardon?”

“Hawaiian.”

OMG, this is the man I’m going to marry.  Ha, ha.  Of course I didn’t say that.  A) I know how not to spook a good boyfriend and B) I’m destined to marry Ricky Schroder.

Fast forward 15 years and our boys basically think Maui Wowie is the only option.  Except when we order Margherita, the pinnacle of pizza perfection.

When Jacob was little he gained a bit of a reputation as an adventurous eater.  We fed him sushi and pickled ginger and salsa and all sorts of atypical kid food and he’d practically eat the fork along with it.  These days he’s definitely more of your common kid except, well, he won’t eat grilled cheese sandwiches, quesadillas, spaghetti with butter, potatoes (even with ketchup), mac & cheese or PB&J.  The J is the problem for JJ.  He does however eat relatively mountainous piles of salad, broccoli, grilled prawns, salsa and loves green tea ice cream (me, too).  Though if it was up to him I think he’d eat potstickers soaked in vinegar for every meal.

Now Nate has always been suspicious of vegetables.  He’ll literally eat a dozen clementines if you let him, but rarely do I trick him into eating anything green.  Well unless you count guacamole or avocado.  I didn’t eat avocado until my mid-twenties.  He’s a great little consumer of grilled cheese and quesadillas.  He’ll also eat chili-lime pistachios.  Sometimes he comes over, wipes his tongue off, drinks water and then asks for more.  This week I saw him stuff an entire strawberry into his mouth, green leafy crown and all.  I almost stopped him but, he needs the roughage.

So when it comes to Hawaiian pizza, Jacob “makes” me eat all the pineapple off his pieces because “it’s too stingy.”  I’ve always dreamed of getting to eat all the warm pineapple off an entire Maui Wowie.  When I was a kid I used to pour pineapple rings into a bowl, microwave them, and eat them like cereal.

And we all lived Canadian bacon and pineapply ever after.

Almost every day I’m presented with a myriad of questions.  In general, I’ve been practicing my ability to turn the why’s back around toward the little asker so as to strengthen their thought processes, and frankly ’cause I’m out of answers.  This week there was one particular question I just can’t seem to shake:

“Mama, can birds wear diapers?”

Just over three years ago when we moved into our house, it was right around Halloween.  For some unexplainable reason, our baby monitor was incredibly staticy.  (It appears this may not be a word, but it clearly is a word so stay with me…)  OK, so our baby monitor was really crackly and would go in and out.  And at night it was that spooky night-vision green which also made it especially creepy.  I would lay there in the dark and wonder if maybe we had unknowingly purchased a haunted house.  It’s interesting how you can start believing in ghosts late at night when sleeping in an unfamiliar place.

I would try to comfort myself by thinking that a ghost would never hurt a little innocent baby, right?  Right.  That’s totally a ghost rule.

So then just as inexplicably, the poltergeist static completely stopped and I’ve never noticed it since.  But then, we had Baby Nate and we had him in his crib in the office.  And I’d be in the kitchen and all I would see was the office door silently swing open.  I’d go back and shut it and then a few minutes later…. Creeeeak.  I’d look up and it would be standing wide open again.  Hmmm.  Drafts?  Crooked door jams?  The return of the house ghost inclined to haunt sleeping infants?

Fortunately, before I’d freaked myself out and told James we were moving, I realized it was Nate.  He was able to stand up in his crib, reach out over the side and swing the door open, in complete silence.

Then a few weeks ago Miss Dulce, one of Nate’s teachers at school and our favorite babysitter, came over to watch the boys.  That evening, she confessed to James that she thought our house was haunted.  On previous nights she had watched the office door open itself multiple times and was certain it was a ghost.  Luckily she had discovered it was Nate.  Thank goodness.  I’m still surprised she came back…

This morning James and Jacob and I woke-up because we heard the goose flying past our house honking (this is the second time we’ve gotten the goose wake-up call).  Yes, Jakey climbed in beside me at 4:30 this morning.  He’s working on staying in his bed until the sun comes up and has been making admirable progress.  Anyway, we’re woken up by the goose and we start whispering.  Then we hear the doorknob rattle down the hall.  Some twisting, but no click of the latch.  Then we hear:

Knock, knock, knock, KNOCK.

Early this year I was talking to James from my office phone.  I’m not exactly sure what transpired… I probably asked an innocent question about dinner which was not well received and James said something to the effect of, “It sure must be nice being Don Draper.”

Now if you don’t know, Don Draper is the main character in the series Mad Men.  Essentially it’s a show about a bunch of cocky ad men in the 60’s that spend the majority of their time smoking, drinking cocktails and schtooping their secretaries while their wives cook and clean and raise their children.  Clearly, I am totally like Don Draper.

And if I’m Don, well then James must be Don’s first wife, Betty.  His current ex-model French Canadian wife doesn’t seem to do a lot of cooking, cleaning or child rearing.

For the months of October and November I got to be Betty, and it was spectacular… absolutely one of the most precious gifts I’ve ever received.

One of my more ambitious friends asked me, “So what did you accomplish?”  I’m not sure that’s really the point of a sabbatical, but I’d say I struck the perfect balance between achieving something, and absolutely nothing:

I did manly things.  I drank a lot of gourmet coffee.  Oversaw 50% completion of the kitchen remodel.  Picked-up paint, bought appliances, sinks, lights, tile, faucets, and various fixtures.  Ordered a porch light and house numbers after two years of research.  Hung canvases of the boys (at their dirtiest) above the bathtub.  Watched our new TV get installed.  And finally fixed the recall on my car, changed the oil and washed it.

I did girlie things.  I was a lady who lunched.  And breakfasted with Brinn.  I shopped with girlfriends on weekdays.  Acquired a record number of new pairs of boots (4).  Did our Christmas shopping.  Got two, yes two, pedicures.  Had a facial and a massage on different days, and a haircut.

I traveled.  I went on our roadtrip to Ashland and Mendocino.  I poked around Los Altos, Menlo Park, Palo Alto, Los Gatos, Burlingame, Campbell, Berkeley and Santa Cruz.  I went to the post office and the tailor and the dry cleaner and the pharmacy.

I volunteered.  Researched book fairs, bought shaving cream, attended Parent Committee meetings.  And served lunch to Our Ladies of Charity.

I was a homemaker.  Got the boys ready and took them to school every morning, picked them up, and figured out what we should eat without a kitchen.  I had breakfast almost every morning with Jacob and his classmates.  Had family pictures taken.  Cleaned the garage, the boys’ closet, the office closet and my closet.   Found new Christmas stockings and had them embroidered with our names, sewed buttons on clothes, and hung up Nate’s baby handprints.  I bought Halloween candy and stood in line forever at the HoneyBaked Ham store.  I planned holiday parties and designed and ordered our Christmas card.

And I didn’t just spend money.  I made money.  I sold the Quinny stroller, the Baby Einstein and some stereo speakers on Craig’s List and made +$245.  Cleaned out our closets and made +$119.  Finally submitted a work expense report (+$700).  Went to court for my Caltrain citation (-$160) and to the eye doctor (-$90).  Plus I gave away all of our baby stuff to my much anticipated spiritual niece/nephew.

Plus, I dated.  I went to Petroglyph by myself.  And went back on a Jake Date.  I went to MyGym on a Nate Date.  And with James to a Bond, James Bond movie.  Went to The Table with the girls for my birthday dinner.  I had lunch with Jill and we drank prosecco.  And I went to the city with James and had midday cocktails.

After a thorough review of my two-month life as Betty… it seems Don isn’t the only one dating and drinking.

It’s here.  The day we’ve been dreading.  We knew it was unavoidable and yet, it’s still hard to believe when it actually happens.  Nathaniel no longer just shakes his head silently when he disagrees with the party line.  Nope.  For the last four days he has answered just about every question with “Gnoh.”  Yes, it’s difficult to capture in print, but his pronunciation is reminiscent of a French toddler defiantly ordering gnocchi.  Gnoh, gnoh.  Or, Gnoooh!

Oh the first Noël, the angel did say…

I’ve been meaning to make a list of our favorite memories from our recent road trip.  Back in mid-October we piled into Lufthansa and visited the southern most point of the Pacific Northwest.  Note: James’ car is known as Lufthansa.  My car is known as The Crop Duster.

Overall it couldn’t have been better.  I hadn’t realized just how much easier it is to travel via car versus shlepping onto an airplane.  Perhaps that’s why families have been taking road trips for millennia…  Some of the highlights:

* Lithia Park in Ashland, Oregon
The unbelievable fall colors and our twice daily trips to the playground are what I’ll remember most.  Jakey found a squirt gun the first day and we had a great time burying it under the wood chips and then coming back to find it.  Though, I’m still trying to forget the incident where Nate let go of the giant rubber band-like climbing net that snapped back and almost took out my front teeth.  It would have been slightly less traumatic if James had noticed and come to rescue me, versus smiling and laughing at something on his iPhone.  Maybe I should have texted him for help?

* Danya from Simply Sitters in Ashland
She engaged the boys with books, crafts and more all afternoon so James and I could poke around shops, eat gourmet food, and drink wine.  I had one of the best desserts of my life at Liquid Assets: Mango and Mascarpone Panna Cotta with Habanero Lime Marmalade.  I’d drive 6 and a half hours again just to eat it.

* The Aquarium in Crescent City
Which apparently hasn’t changed much since James’ last visit when he was 7, except they’ve added a 5000 square foot waiting room/junk shop, I mean gift shop.  Just as we were about to pet 2 live sharks, James set Nate down which somehow startled the shark into splashing a wave of freezing cold water out of the petting tank and down Natesy’s back.  Let’s just say Nate was not amused.  But we did find out Nate and trained sea lions have quite a bit in common.  For example, they both can moo like a cow and growl like a tiger.  They also both wave, give kisses, and slap their bellies on command.

* Paul Bunyan & Babe the Blue Ox
Our much anticipated visit to the Trees of Mystery and the gondola ride up the mountain was an added bonus.  Jakey was really looking forward to seeing “Tall Bunyan.”  He’s still talking about him.

* Benbow Inn in Garberville
This historic inn is such a wonderful surprise in the middle of nowhere.  Delicious food, a spacious room, and thousands of rocks to throw into a beautiful crystal clear creek.  We enjoyed several good hours throwing rocks.

* The Botanical Gardens outside Fort Bragg
Some day I’m going to have a dahlia garden to rival this place.  The boys ate apples from the orchard, after narrowly escaping the playhouse-guarding scarecrow.  Afterward, Nate was so tired we caught him sleeping in his car seat and finishing his heirloom Gravenstein.  I’ve maybe never seen anything funnier.

* The Perfect House James found in Mendocino
Where he made my favorite birthday dinner, the boys wrestled and played for hours, JJ insisted on making me cupcakes, and we washed as many loads of laundry as possible.  One morning, Jacob woke-up and told me he “was having the best dream.  I was running with mouses and a cat was chasing us.  And we were throwing Play-Doh!”  (This was because just before we went to bed we had read a book about a kitten named Mickey that grows-up with a family of mice.)

And on our way out of town, we surprised a young homeless man and his beautiful dog with our breakfast gift of half a dozen chocolate frosted cupcakes.

As the holidays approach, I’m always reminded of some of the things I used to say when I was little.  My mom is really good at keeping our childhood stories and vocab alive and kickin’.  For example, I’m still inclined to sing “Then one froggy Christmas Eve…” as I think about Santa Closet from the cozy comfort of my grass bed.

The last few months, Jake has come up with a few of his own:

• “Mama, is your hot tea done bruising yet?”
• “Daddy, those rocks have water in them and they’re growing allergies.”
• When I turn around to look into the backseat of the car: “Mama, do you have ocean sickness?”
• James: “Maybe we should sneak into Kelly’s early tomorrow.”
  Jake: “You mean sneak in and steal all the food like Rogers?”

But, hands down, our all time favorite and one that’s made it into daily use: “I like it bester.”