Clogged head, still happy
I have tons of stuff to write about, but allergies and the resulting lack of sleep have made me goofy. Bear with me.
Those of you who've been to our place know we're on a teeny tiny little half-block-long side street -- periodically the borough tries to claim it's not really a street when they want to get out of trash collection or snowplowing. Fortunately, with a few exceptions the neighbors have almost always been very congenial, and we've got an exceptionally nice crew at the moment (there is some change, since a few of the rowhouses across the street are rentals). The kids next door were the ones who decided they wanted to have a block party, and they started leaving little notes in everyone's mailboxes telling us what to bring -- the L.C. and I were tasked with obtaining popsicles and ice cream sandwiches.
I came home Friday night to find a bunch of the 10 to 12-year-old girls lounging on the street corner. I said "Hey! Has the party gotten started?" and they rolled their eyes at me and told me how lame and boring it was. That was pretty funny, given that they'd been the prime movers in organizing this deal. It turned out that the grownups were all having a blast, much to the kids' dismay, but eventually more and more kids (from houses on either side of our street) showed up and the young ones all took themselves off in various directions to play "Ghost in the Graveyard," beat each other up with lightsabers, or have interpersonal drama depending on their ages and genders. The latter was of interest in a sort of painful way, since I expect we'll be going through similar angst in 10 or 11 years -- cellphones seem to have really facilitated the process of being tormented by mean girls, judging by the mad swirl of yelling, tears, and non-stop phone action.
Meanwhile, the L.C. and I got to kick back with one half of the couple from the other side of our twin (we've always liked them a lot, and being of Spanish origin they have lots of interesting perspectives on the L.C.'s interest in medieval Andalusia), plus some of the newer people from across the street. It turns out that one of them has a good friend who teaches yoga at the center a couple of blocks away, and she and I had lots of very interesting discussion about yoga, health, pregnancy, and being (sometimes) the weirdest people in our general vicinities. The whole thing was great, but made me very unhappy that we're looking at moving just as it would become extremely convenient to be on a tiny cul-de-sac with sympatico parents and kids around. *sigh*
Up at the crack of dawn to go to shul, yep! We both grew up Reform, and it's been a long time since my days of activity in a high school Conservative youth group. The invitation said services started at nine and requested that attendees dress modestly, so we obeyed both items -- which meant we beat everyone, including the rabbi, to the synagogue, and I was the frumpiest person present. The L.C.'s cousin, the mother of the bar mitzvah boy, was shocked we were there so early. *sigh* The first hour or so was extremely difficult to follow, I thought, but once the cantor took over from the reader it started getting a little easier. I read Hebrew fairly fluently (or, rather I follow the text just fine -- my actual comprehension is limited to something like ten words), but still had a lot of trouble, having forgotten where all the breaks were and how the service variations run. Also, this congregation uses different melodies for big chunks than what I was accustomed to! No fair! Even the parts I knew I couldn't really chant along with.
However, the rabbi's sermon, inspired by the Leviticus portion about giving the land itself a Sabbath every seven years, was all about responsible stewardship of the environment. At one point he asked who was familiar with the Encyclopedia of Life project, and the L.C. was the only person who'd read about it (or at least the only one brave enough to raise his hand)... at any rate, both of us were intrigued by the sermon. Also intriguing was a custom I'd never seen before: While the bar mitzvah boy was still going through his readings, a little boy went around the congregation distributing fruit gel candies wrapped in tulle, and when our young scholar finished up everyone was supposed to toss candy to symbolize the sweetness of a life of study and religious observance. You can imagine the swirling undercurrents of chaos coming from the process of candy distribution in the first place, and the manic pelting of the flinching star of the show that took place the second he was done chanting. Not in the face, kiddies!
The reception afterwards was nice, but clearly geared more towards the kids than the grownups; the music was very, very loud and the DJ had the kids playing a lot of games involving running and screaming. Note to self: Even if you throw a party with a musical theme, DO NOT give a horde of 13-year-olds oversized trumpet-shaped kazoos as party favors. BAD. VERY BAD. We stayed long enough to pay our regards to all the relatives and then fled.
After we got back to our neck of the woods, the L.C. and I went over to redshinma's; he cooked tasty lamb for us, accompanied by carrots and olives and cheese and couscous and stuff. Very yummy. Then we caught up on two Heroes episodes... Whoa! Things are not going in the direction I thought they were going in! And boy, that reveal with Adrian Pasdar... ack!!!
Seriously, my mother couldn't think of anything she would rather do for Mother's Day than take us to the mall and pick out baby things with us... so that's what we did. We had a surprisingly good meal at Cheesecake Factory (their crab hash with poached eggs in Hollandaise is fabulous), and then went to Pottery Barn Kids because that was absolutely positively what Mom wanted to do. We're going to register at Babies R'Us too, since PBK is just ridiculous, but I have to admit that despite being a haven for miniature yuppie scum (*grin*) they do have some awfully cute things! Yes, I got sucked into the madness. I really, really didn't want all pink; we're doing mostly light green, yellow and cream instead to start out, with a few touches of neutral beiges and pale blue (because the rocker Mom and Dad bought is natural wood with light blue cushions, so we have to work that in). You don't have to look if you're not susceptible to such things, but look how cute the set is! Bunnies and lambs and geese! I figure when the sprout gets old enough to tell us she wants all pink and purple she can have it at that point; for now we get to dictate her decor, and I'm certain there'll be plenty of pink in her life without our swathing everything in it now. :) Mom did make a very strong request for pink stroller blankets, so "people know she's a girl!"... all right, fine, I can cope with that.
In fact, Mom gets quite a bit of leniency/tolerance from me at the moment, because remember that rocker I mentioned above? Yep, she bought us a Dutailier rocker plus ottoman with kickplate! Sooooooo happy. Of course, I can't sit in it yet because some of us (*cough*Mom*cough*) are superstitious and won't allow anything for the baby into our house yet. I'll survive. I know it's coming soon!
Oof, this got long and rambling. I'll stop now. Sorry!
Those of you who've been to our place know we're on a teeny tiny little half-block-long side street -- periodically the borough tries to claim it's not really a street when they want to get out of trash collection or snowplowing. Fortunately, with a few exceptions the neighbors have almost always been very congenial, and we've got an exceptionally nice crew at the moment (there is some change, since a few of the rowhouses across the street are rentals). The kids next door were the ones who decided they wanted to have a block party, and they started leaving little notes in everyone's mailboxes telling us what to bring -- the L.C. and I were tasked with obtaining popsicles and ice cream sandwiches.
I came home Friday night to find a bunch of the 10 to 12-year-old girls lounging on the street corner. I said "Hey! Has the party gotten started?" and they rolled their eyes at me and told me how lame and boring it was. That was pretty funny, given that they'd been the prime movers in organizing this deal. It turned out that the grownups were all having a blast, much to the kids' dismay, but eventually more and more kids (from houses on either side of our street) showed up and the young ones all took themselves off in various directions to play "Ghost in the Graveyard," beat each other up with lightsabers, or have interpersonal drama depending on their ages and genders. The latter was of interest in a sort of painful way, since I expect we'll be going through similar angst in 10 or 11 years -- cellphones seem to have really facilitated the process of being tormented by mean girls, judging by the mad swirl of yelling, tears, and non-stop phone action.
Meanwhile, the L.C. and I got to kick back with one half of the couple from the other side of our twin (we've always liked them a lot, and being of Spanish origin they have lots of interesting perspectives on the L.C.'s interest in medieval Andalusia), plus some of the newer people from across the street. It turns out that one of them has a good friend who teaches yoga at the center a couple of blocks away, and she and I had lots of very interesting discussion about yoga, health, pregnancy, and being (sometimes) the weirdest people in our general vicinities. The whole thing was great, but made me very unhappy that we're looking at moving just as it would become extremely convenient to be on a tiny cul-de-sac with sympatico parents and kids around. *sigh*
Up at the crack of dawn to go to shul, yep! We both grew up Reform, and it's been a long time since my days of activity in a high school Conservative youth group. The invitation said services started at nine and requested that attendees dress modestly, so we obeyed both items -- which meant we beat everyone, including the rabbi, to the synagogue, and I was the frumpiest person present. The L.C.'s cousin, the mother of the bar mitzvah boy, was shocked we were there so early. *sigh* The first hour or so was extremely difficult to follow, I thought, but once the cantor took over from the reader it started getting a little easier. I read Hebrew fairly fluently (or, rather I follow the text just fine -- my actual comprehension is limited to something like ten words), but still had a lot of trouble, having forgotten where all the breaks were and how the service variations run. Also, this congregation uses different melodies for big chunks than what I was accustomed to! No fair! Even the parts I knew I couldn't really chant along with.
However, the rabbi's sermon, inspired by the Leviticus portion about giving the land itself a Sabbath every seven years, was all about responsible stewardship of the environment. At one point he asked who was familiar with the Encyclopedia of Life project, and the L.C. was the only person who'd read about it (or at least the only one brave enough to raise his hand)... at any rate, both of us were intrigued by the sermon. Also intriguing was a custom I'd never seen before: While the bar mitzvah boy was still going through his readings, a little boy went around the congregation distributing fruit gel candies wrapped in tulle, and when our young scholar finished up everyone was supposed to toss candy to symbolize the sweetness of a life of study and religious observance. You can imagine the swirling undercurrents of chaos coming from the process of candy distribution in the first place, and the manic pelting of the flinching star of the show that took place the second he was done chanting. Not in the face, kiddies!
The reception afterwards was nice, but clearly geared more towards the kids than the grownups; the music was very, very loud and the DJ had the kids playing a lot of games involving running and screaming. Note to self: Even if you throw a party with a musical theme, DO NOT give a horde of 13-year-olds oversized trumpet-shaped kazoos as party favors. BAD. VERY BAD. We stayed long enough to pay our regards to all the relatives and then fled.
After we got back to our neck of the woods, the L.C. and I went over to redshinma's; he cooked tasty lamb for us, accompanied by carrots and olives and cheese and couscous and stuff. Very yummy. Then we caught up on two Heroes episodes... Whoa! Things are not going in the direction I thought they were going in! And boy, that reveal with Adrian Pasdar... ack!!!
Seriously, my mother couldn't think of anything she would rather do for Mother's Day than take us to the mall and pick out baby things with us... so that's what we did. We had a surprisingly good meal at Cheesecake Factory (their crab hash with poached eggs in Hollandaise is fabulous), and then went to Pottery Barn Kids because that was absolutely positively what Mom wanted to do. We're going to register at Babies R'Us too, since PBK is just ridiculous, but I have to admit that despite being a haven for miniature yuppie scum (*grin*) they do have some awfully cute things! Yes, I got sucked into the madness. I really, really didn't want all pink; we're doing mostly light green, yellow and cream instead to start out, with a few touches of neutral beiges and pale blue (because the rocker Mom and Dad bought is natural wood with light blue cushions, so we have to work that in). You don't have to look if you're not susceptible to such things, but look how cute the set is! Bunnies and lambs and geese! I figure when the sprout gets old enough to tell us she wants all pink and purple she can have it at that point; for now we get to dictate her decor, and I'm certain there'll be plenty of pink in her life without our swathing everything in it now. :) Mom did make a very strong request for pink stroller blankets, so "people know she's a girl!"... all right, fine, I can cope with that.
In fact, Mom gets quite a bit of leniency/tolerance from me at the moment, because remember that rocker I mentioned above? Yep, she bought us a Dutailier rocker plus ottoman with kickplate! Sooooooo happy. Of course, I can't sit in it yet because some of us (*cough*Mom*cough*) are superstitious and won't allow anything for the baby into our house yet. I'll survive. I know it's coming soon!
Oof, this got long and rambling. I'll stop now. Sorry!