food diary November 29

Theo is in such a sweet spot right now.  We've been doing lots of walking around the neighborhood and have not used the stroller once. He carries his "numbers book", holds my hand, pushes the crosswalk button and constantly asks about the train.  I guess one of the perks of living the super urban life right now is that Theo is well aware of how trains, train bells, safety rails and lights work.  It's sort of nice to be able to just walk a block to get in his train fix.  Today we walked to a nearby coffee shop, where he ate a madeleine and practiced his recitations (numbers).

This evening we attempted to play at the mall play park, but it was filled with aggressive little boys, so instead we ate french fries.  Theo proved his food daring by dipping each fry into three different sauces, proving that he is, indeed, a lover of complex flavors and budding foodie.

tree time

We actually got our xmas tree last weekend, but it's still not 100% decorated.  I've been single parenting all week, and feel sad about the prospect of putting up ornaments by myself, so I'm just going to wait.  The important parts are up (star, lights, tinsel) and Theo is the tree steward, who makes sure it goes on first thing in the morning when he wakes up (6:30).  We went with our friends to pick out the tree and it afforded Theo the chance to chase Piper around and generally be in kid heaven (he loves her so much it makes my heart swell).

 Two girls who are very interested in holding his hand!

 What is with this dude?

 BFFs.

Since we were the first people on the lot, we had out pick of trees! (downside: will probably be brown by Christmas)

 Players be playin'.

Little boy in the little tree section.

Very interested in how this tree thing works.

Parenting today

NAILED IT.

I made the mistake of watching the Cleveland police video of the Tamir Rice murder today.  Being ensconced in the US of A just feels a bit too hopeless, dark and medieval right now.  I found my mind drifting to that video in horror and despair while out and about, so I would say it's best to avoid if possible.  

I busied myself all day by doing four loads of laundry, cleaning the house and giving away two bags of clothing and a stroller.  It always feels good to get rid of stuff.  My house chores were abysmally slow due to pregnancy (and I did stop to make eggplant parm. sandwiches in the middle).  Tomorrow I am going to get up and take my small child somewhere--either on a downtown walk or on the train.  He's has matured to the point where he will hold your hand, do what you ask and generally not make a stressful nuisance of himself.  Progress (shall be rewarded with a scone)!

I’ve found myself weepy all day (especially when I look at the internet)—maybe because I’m pregnant, or had to get up an hour earlier in order to shepherd Theo to school and am a bit tired (I become a total mess when tired), or maybe because Darren Wilson’s life goes on, with no more legal ramifications, while the black parents of a black teenager have to somehow continue to live their lives without their child (a thought so terrifying and unimaginable to me now that I can’t even let my mind go there without total devastation), but with the total hatred and denigration of a nation (well, at least half a nation anyway) of rabid, privileged racists. I know these racists, as I grew up with them in the south and I am friends with them on Facebook. It is interesting, to say they least, given that they are in MO, and have ties to people in St. Louis, though they dwell in the bootheel, which is much different in way that most people don’t understand. They post their outrage at Ferguson with comments like, “A black police officer in my town killed a white man and there were no riots. Just sayin’.” And “The facts are the facts and people need to accept that justice has been served.” There is no hint of any greater understanding of the history of our country and the systems that exclude some and protect others (not to mention that “truth” is subjective, ESPECIALLY in the criminal justice system). There is just easy acceptance of a narrative that they grew up with.

I shudder to think that I would have no reason to question that narrative either, had my parents not gotten us the ef out of dodge while I was still young enough to change. I took for granted that as an adolescent, I was able to push boundaries in search of my identity, as all adolescents do (petty theft, “funny vandalism”. Sorry, mom) with no fear of consequences. Embarrassingly, I didn’t fully understand that not everyone can push boundaries until my mid-20’s, when my friend Candice expressed surprise that I could walk into a store with no change in posture or demeanor. She told me that she felt the need to be as open and inconspicuous as possible for fear of trouble if she wasn’t. Every time she went into a store. That conversation shocked me—that participating in our capitalist wonderland was stressful to a person of color. Michael Brown stole cigarillos, just as EVERY SINGLE PERSON I KNOW did something similar at that age. Why that needs to even be mentioned as some sort of justifiable and precipitating event is enraging.

I will also say that this outrage on the right about how protest, vandalism and violence is so hypocritical and dumb, given that they literally have a branch who named themselves the “TEA PARTY”, which, if I’m not mistaken, was an event where white dudes destroyed property that did not belong to them as a means of protesting what they viewed a systemic unfairness. They worship the American Revolution and the “independent” spirit of our forefathers, yet condemn the actions of Ferguson (with no amount of irony).

it must be a Monday

Today, as I was leisurely enjoying some hot cocoa and browsing my (physical) work mail, I came across a mailing from the Heartland Institute in my box advertising the need for a "debate" over global warming, and some suggested books I could buy to start the debate in my classroom.  I was so incensed that I threw it angrily into the recycling bin and stormed upstairs to demand that they take me off their mailing list.  It is too early in the morning and the week for this bull.


Please take me off of your mailing list. I received a color brochure in the mail today advocating for a "debate" over global warming. It was incredibly offensive to me, as a former climate change researcher and current high school teacher, that you fail to mention the real statistic--that 97% of research scientists in the US agree that global warming is real and caused by human activity. You should be ashamed of yourself for sending out misleading propaganda to high school teachers.

I am equally as offended that you killed trees, further contributing to global warming, in order to send me that pamphlet of propagandist nonsense.

the humanities, a recorder and Disney revisited

1. Yesterday, in our staff meeting, the budget priorities for the next year were discussed.  Of course, adding more science and programming classes is a priority, which should not come as a shock to anyone living in the US of A.  Some of our humanities teachers spoke up to advocate for the importance of their field too, a point I absolutely, 150%, believe in.  The trend towards placing value on higher education based on the salaries guaranteed its graduates really bugs me, as I don’t think we should let capitalism drive our sense of what kind of knowledge is worth having (or good for a nation).  Though I benefit from having a science background (obviously so easy to get teaching jobs and even the teacher professional development for science teachers is much better funded and more plentiful than other subjects), I place equal value on my humanities education and every year, I strongly encourage my students to at least get a minor in philosophy (the original queen of the sciences!).  It’s sad that at the university level and the high school level, there is an increasing de-emphasis on the humanities.  My cousin is an engineer and did not have to take even ONE class that involved writing in college!  Can you imagine!?  If I had stopped writing at the age of 18, my writing skills would barely count as literate.   Some things that I attribute solely to my humanities degree: writing, understanding that ancient history was filled with people just as smart as the ones today, seeing modernity in context of a vast and complex human history, reading for extended periods of time, synthesizing many nuanced points of view, sifting through complexities of thought, being thorough and logical in argument.  

2. I bought Theo a child-sized accordion for Christmas.  I am so incredibly excited about this gift (mainly so I can play with it).  We pulled out his recorder today and he doesn’t quite get that you blow into it, because he sort of half blows and half makes a high pitched noise with his throat.  It’s the cutest thing ever and I have been a neglectful mother in documenting his childhood, so I have no pictures or video. 

3. Just as Natan was chastising me for being down on Disney, I read an article in the NYTimes about why a person would love it and have grown a little softer about the issue.  The article basically likened Disney aficionados to collectors, and I immediately thought of my own Target gift card collection and how I am sure that there is someone (or most people) who finds it to be utterly ridiculous, yet it gives me so much pleasure to have it, tucked away (to someday be inherited by Theo).  I also thought of my love for pumpkin patches, Christmas trees, and Fantasia and realized that there is a lot of overlap between those things and D-land (so perhaps I am a Disney person?).

breast pumps and space

I nearly wept today when I learned that under the ACA, women get a free double electric breast pump through their insurance companies! It is astounding to me that it has taken THIS long to get pretty basic services to become mandatory (I am also thinking of pediatric ophthalmology here). Thanks Obama! (In the genuine way) Pumps are crazy expensive and necessary for breast feeding mothers returning to work. Manual pumps are ridiculous and should be melted down into something more useful. Although, I will say that the elephant in the room is paid 1-year maternity leave. Baby digestive tracks don’t develop until the kid is 6 months old. How can we think that mothers only need 12 weeks? It’s absolute lunacy, but I guess our mid-term elections proved that (burn!). I blame most of the ills of our country on Southerners and idiot business and tech libertarians (there are SO many of them in Palo Alto).

Speaking of the idiot business/tech libertarians, how does one go about writing a bio of themselves? I had to do one today and it was so incredibly uncomfortable and annoying. You’d THINK that I would find it easy and fun to talk about my favorite subject (myself), but I just didn't know what to say. Since my co-presenters had bios in the third person, I begrudgingly did it as well, but come on—when I read the bio of someone, it is clear that THEY wrote it, which makes me feel embarrassed for them. Now, I am just embarrassed for myself. I wrote an awesome bio of myself this summer for a program (I did NOT use the third person), and I included this informative gem:

Outside of my professional life, I enjoy space (and movies that use space as a metaphor for human existential dilemma), traveling during the summers, museums, blogging, working on craft projects, photography, and vivacious intellectual discussion. Most of all, however, I enjoy doing these things with my family.

Other people in that program listed their award-winning programs and various teacher of the year awards, but I really wanted to get to the meat of ME, you know? The bio I had to write today just seemed a bit more professional, so I didn't feel like I could go off the rails in that way (but really, who cares about anything OTHER than whether or not you like space?)

world toilet day

Today is world toilet day! When I heard about this, I thought that it must have something to do with sanitation, the spread of disease, or water quality. I then looked at the UN webpage on it and discovered it is about so much more. Roughly 1/3 of the world does not have access to toilets, which means that women/girls often have to use the bathroom in the open, making them susceptible to sexual assault and less likely to attend school. Toilets (or the lack thereof) are a tool of inequality. I didn’t do much to commemorate this day, except read an infographic and tell some people about it.

This week has been a busy writing week. I have a total of twenty-six college letters of recommendation to write. 2-6—it’s a lot to do. I am proud to say that I have done 20 of them (not all this week) and they are all unique. I did not reuse phrasing or sections of letters (though I did reuse adjectives. A lot). I am really nailing it this year in terms of rec writing. It is not that fun for me, and feels sort of like an extra job, but that’s OK because PRODUCTIVITY! My goal is to finish before next Wednesday so I can focus all of my efforts over the holiday to working on fun projects (like reorganizing and cleaning my house—the nesting instinct has begun).

I also got a last minute curriculum project on Monday that is due tomorrow, which I love. I am a person who prefers boggle to scrabble and last minute, frantic projects to slow, long-deadline ones. I think I work best under pressure, or I at least work hardest under pressure. I will never forget the epic history paper I wrote 3 hours before it was due in class in college—I think it was one of my best (I got a B+, if I recall, but given how hard my school was, it was probably truly an A paper, IMHO).

Today, I feel like I truly freed my mind up when I realized that I am an adult, and that means that if I want to buy a Christmas tree THIS WEEKEND (I totally do!), then I can! No one can make me do it after Thanksgiving. There are no rules about these things. It feels right this year—I also got a small, artificial tree for Theo’s room, because if there is one thing he will grow up loving, it is the Christmas tree.

glucose tolerance test (aka the 2nd worst part of pregnancy, behind birth)

Why, hello from the Kaiser lab space, where I am in hour one of my 3 hr. glucose tolerance test. This is the 4th time in my life that I have taken this test, so it feels a bit like old hat. When I was pregnant with Theo, I failed the 1 hour test at the beginning of my pregnancy and had to then move on to the three hour. Ever since then, I've just opted for the 3 hour test. It just seems easier than risking it and having to make multiple trips to Kaiser. So at the beginning of both pregnancies and around 28 weeks, I have had to do this extremely awful test, and for every one the result is the same. I feel fine during the first 2 hours of the test, but by the end my blood sugar is so low that I am sweating, feeling the need to throw-up and generally not doing well. I then drive myself home (which is not advised when blood sugar goes below 70, which mine has every time), procure the most unhealthy, calorie-laden meal I can find (McDonald’s), devour it and sleep for four hours, unable to move and wishing for death. This can’t possibly be healthy for me or new baby, and I've heard that the new protocol is for a 2-hour test with less sugar, but Kaiser hasn't switched yet, so here I sit. 

The good news is that I am among a pod of other pregnant ladies taking this test (six so far). We all have multiple electronic devices and, though we are at about the same point in our pregnancies, we all look very different (and span several decades in age range). I look the least pregnant and two of them look extremely pregnant. Bodies! All different and all beautiful! There is only one partner here and he ate a breakfast sandwich while his lady had her blood drawn, which seems a bit cruel (we had to fast and I am starving, so I can only imagine she is as well).

It should be noted that I attempted to purchase a soda this morning to bring to this test so I could get my blood sugar up quickly after the test, but when I walked into the Delmas Market, I immediately started gagging and the owner told me that pepper spray had recently been discharged in the store. I promptly left, soda-less and annoyed. The time was approximately 8 am. UGH (my street).

baby dreams

In my opinion, one of the best parts of pregnancy is the crazy dreamscape that awaits in the 2^nd and 3^rd trimesters.  I dream about people I haven’t even thought about in 10 years.  Last night was a good one--I dreamt that I gave birth to a 41 inch baby that was of mixed race, which threw me into utter confusion, as I no longer knew who the father was, and couldn’t even remember who it might be.  That baby then grew up in the span of a minute to be a brown-eyed Charlie Hunnam, who I was then dating (?) or mothering.  It was unclear in my subconscious (AS IT IS FOR ALL OF US--Freud).  Somehow, though we were on one of those water-log rides at amusement parks and I felt so incredibly relaxed.  What does it all mean!?  Have I been watching too much Sons of Anarchy? 

baby prep

My nightly ritual includes a good deal of reading babycenter forums and googling birthing photos.  During these important endeavors, I have found several good resources.  One of them is an alternative mothering website (older, more LGBT friendly) with interesting birth/pregnancy stories and the other is a different kind of alternative mothering website (hippie kind).  The hippie one had me in stitches tonight because of two things—a home-birth story that ended with a toddler and father using candles to separate (burn off) the placenta from the baby (after 3 hours of post-natal placental attachment, of course, with a picture of the mother breastfeeding while baby was still attached to said placenta) and the repeated use of the world “earthside” to describe the baby after it’s born.  There is also an extensive section on circumcision, which apparently just presents one “side” (anti-).  I am immediately suspicious of anyone who makes it their mission to write an entire opinion piece against circumcision, especially if they let their toddler burn off their placenta and then give it to their husband for a raw placenta smoothie that is “surprisingly yummy”. 

life at the manor (the drunk dump manor)

Well, it finally happened again on our street of peril (aka the Delmas)—someone tried to break into our house last night.  I awakened to the sound of a person shoving an object through our bathroom window screen, which popped off the latching mechanism on our window.  I then heard some rustling outside of our house and went to make sure the doors were locked.  After that, I heard nothing (it should be noted that Natan did not awaken during any of this).  In the morning, our stroller was missing from our porch and our hose had been turned on.  Luckily, I found the stroller down the street, just sitting on the sidewalk with a discarded beer can in the storage area.  Our neighbors were similarly terrorized, with the vandals drinking their Gatorade, pouring out their bottled water and then tagging their cars with spray paint.  

At least we lock our doors now, after the bizarre break-in a few years ago, when a local homeless lady came inside and asked for pants.  And did I ever mention that our old gardener (who disappeared suddenly) was a registered sex offender (we discovered this by utilizing the Megan’s Law website)?  While I was showering this morning, it occurred to me that the biggest problem with living in “difficult” neighborhoods is their total chaos and unpredictability.  You never know when a crazy person is going to wake the whole street up with hours of incohesive yelling in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve, or when a drunk citizen will rudely tell you that your child does not need glasses and they will “explain it all to you later” (both things have happened in the last year).  To our landlord’s credit, however, he did immediately focus his energy on making our house more impenetrable by devising a plan to put bars on our windows (like in Central American countries and South Africa).  How cosmopolitan of us!