Warning: Irony-free zone ahead…

Yesterday morning we flew up to the Great Northwest to convene in my parent’s little Northern Idaho town with all my siblings and neices and nephew — from Ashland & Portland, Oregon and Sydney, Australia — to celebrate Christmas, but also Mom & Dad’s 50th wedding anniversary.

This retreat was the pin light at the end of the tunnel for both Thor and I this month. Sometimes you really do just need to escape. I know everything will still be there when we get back, but hey it’ll be New Year’s and then 2007. A new year always feels like a clean slate to me. I don’t really make new year’s resolutions — those never seem to stick. But Thor & I do come up with a theme for each year — just one word — and then we focus our energy throughout the year on that theme. Kind of like a mantra. Except less Buddhist. Works every time.

So for now we’re here. Up in the land of ridiculously nice people. Thor and I and my brothers and sisters-in-law are all staying at a B&B near my parent’s place. The grandkids are staying at “Goggy and Papa’s”. And that’s exactly how Goggy and Papa like it. Besides the grandkids are 13 - 21 plus Quinn. Four of them lovely and doting teenage girls. Yeah, Quinn will be in hog heaven.

We were the first to arrive and got to spend a quiet day at my parents yesterday. Quinn’s excitement reminded me of the same excitement I experienced when I’d first arrive at my grandparent’s house as a chlld. My eyes would survey all the familiar things that never changed — the green shag carpet, the organ in the corner, the wall of owl art. There was always a candy dish to raid, the dog to play with, the box of toys and art supplies they kept for me. It still brings back very palpable memories. I imagine that Quinn is in the process of making similar ones.

My brother and his family (with the three of the four grand-daughters) from Sydney arrived late last night. Thor & I crashed early so we haven’t seen them yet. Quinn has surely woken up by now at my parents’ and is excitedly trying to get his cousins to do the same. It’s been two years since we’ve seen them and Quinn has very little memory of them. But he does have a strong sense of the value of family and has been eagerly waiting to reunite with his cousins.

I smell breakfast. And I think it’s french toast. Amazing I can get that through the congestion in my head. Oh yeah, did I mention that my head nearly exploded as were descending on the plane yesterday? I’ve got the disease that will not go away. Thor’s got some version of it too. Who decided December was a good month for holidays and family gatherings? It’s like some cruel joke. Well, unless you live in the Southern Hemisphere.

Quinn to me: “Mommy, I love you so much that I even want to snuggle you forever. And I even can’t stop hugging and kissing you.”

It’s been a rough month.

We returned from Argentina, aglow with the blissful guilt of over-indulgence. Too much shopping (the fashion!!), too much eating (the restaurants!), too much drinking (the bar at Home Hotel!), too much dolce de leche (everywhere!). All so very worth it. (see photos here). Though we didn’t know it at the time, we needed that — to stockpile the goodness, fatten up for the winter as it were — for there were choppy seas ahead.

In a nutshell… Best friends getting divorced (this was already happening before our trip, but is no less painful and awkward now); In-laws getting divorced (again, was already in motion and this one is probably for the best but Wow, not fun — and compounded by next three…); Thor’s Grandmother died Thanksgiving morning; Thor’s Grandfather was diagnosed with stage four bone cancer the same week; Thor’s Aunt’s ovarian cancer from last year is coming back — this is all on his Mom’s side. Needless to say she’s feeling like “Job” right about now. We all are. Then there’s been the illness — Quinn last week, me this week — and the insomnia. I haven’t had a solid night’s sleep in about 6 days now. My mom’s surgery last week that went awry — was supposed to be a routine in and out thing, but due to complications and Dr mistake, she spent the week in the hospital, being fed through an IV, unable to swallow. Scary.

And then there was this past weekend. That’s when a friend of ours decided to take her life via the Golden Gate Bridge. Yes, shocking, tragic and still hitting me in waves. Last night was a small memorial gathering with her parents who flew in from out of town. They are devastated. And that’s an understatement. We talked about the pain of losing a child. As a mother now, I can tap into what that would mean. I live in fear every day for the safety of my child. I can imagine what the pain of losing a child would be. I can’t imagine what it would be to lose a child under those circumstances. I hugged her dad for a long time. He just moaned and sobbed, his heart breaking for his little girl. I sobbed. He kept saying “Make sure you tell your child how much you love them. No matter what, you love them. It doesn’t matter what they do. They can always, always talk to you. They can always, always call you about anything because they’re your child and you love them. You have to make sure they know.”

Believe me, I will.

Quinn: Mommy, is there a machine in your tummy that makes your skin color but you can’t pick?

I’m not one that feels I need to attend every party or social event. I don’t feel like I’m missing out on something. I know who will be there. I know I’ll see those people elsewhere. I know who my friends are. I like my home. I like hanging out with Quinn. I like my Tivo.

However, this party, is one I am actually very sad to have missed.

I tried to no avail to procure babysitting for the night. Between a cadre of time-generous, willing friends and a handful of pay-for-play babysitters I am usually able to find someone to watch Quinn. I even tried The Core Group. But alas, the childcare gods were not with me.

Thor offered to split the night — I could go early, come home and then he’d go. I briefly considered it, mostly because I wanted to congratulate Scott on a rockin’ decade in person since he is one of the sweetest, most unpretentious people I know. But, with the wind knocked out of my sails after the final babysitter rejection and my residual jet lag (yeah, I know it’s been a week since I’ve been home, but I’ve managed to stay in a time-zone somewhere between there and here and am ready for bed by 9) it didn’t sound like such a compelling idea. This morning, however, checking out the early returns I am reconsidering my position.

For those of you who were there, I hope you had a great time. I really do. No, really. I mean it.

And at least I caught up on a month’s worth of The Office. Pam and Jim, will you just get it over with already??!!

Possible longer, soul-searching explanation still to come but the meal-in-a-minute version is: Two week trip to Argentina mixed with pre-trip to Argentina busy-ness mixed with post-trip to Argentina jet lag and busy-ness. Toss in a healthy portion of friend and family personal drama. Sprinkle with procrastination and ambivalence. And voila! No blog posts for over a month.

…………
In the car with Quinn yesterday having a conversation. He asks me something. I answer. He says “Huh?”. I answer. Pause for about 30 seconds.

Quinn: Mommy, when I say “pardon me?” you say something, okay? But if I not say “pardon me?” you don’t say anything, okay?
Me: Okaaaay….
About a minute later:
Quinn: Mommy, so when I say “huh?” you don’t say something and when I say “pardon me” you do say something, okay?
Me: Okay, Quinn. It’s a deal. So you want me to help to train you to say “pardon me”?
Q: Yes.

And yes, folks, he’s still four.

Move over Raffi….

http://www.pancakemountain.com!!!!!

It’s been a busy week. We had friends from Sydney with their three darling daughters, ages 2 - 7, staying with us. Suffice it to say, Quinn was in heaven.

It was a whirlwind visit, but was great to see them. The last time we saw them, we were all pre-kids! We were out in Sydney for the wedding of the sister of the friend who was just here. On that trip Thor experienced first-hand a true Australian “cock’s night” (aka bachelor party), complete with a naked groom tied to a street lamp at Darling Harbor and ending with Thor and the best man hosing down the inside of the taxi cab at 3 in the morning after the passed-out groom had, well, creatd a situation that called for the hosing down of the inside of a taxi cab. My how things have changed.

I did manage to meet our dashing Mayor, Gavin Newsome, this week thanks to Adaptive Path hosting a fundraiser in our building and Bryan for arranging the invitation. He is as gracious and charming in person as you might imagine him to be. He uses that great political trick of making you feel that he thinks that everything coming out of your mouth is absolutely novel and brilliant. Even when what’s coming out of your mouth is, “Nice to mee you Ga.. May Newthhhhh….”

And Quinn has really started to draw people now. He did this one tonight. It’s my favorite so far. I thought it was a tall woman with a happy face mumu. But then Quinn informed me, “He ate all these people”. Oh.

I walked into Quinn’s school the day after writing my last blog post and passed the President of the PTTA in the hall. I smiled and said “hello”. He smiled and said “Trustees”. I looked at him quizically. “Trustees?” I asked. “Yes, it’s Trustees”. My face went red as I put two and two together.

It’s been a busy few weeks. Quinn started back to school for his final year of preschool. And I have been simultaneously getting busier at work while also transforming into the next stage of mom-dom.

Two weekends ago I attended my first soccer league meeting. (Yes, I’m serious. How cliche, I know.) San Francisco Micro Soccer, to be exact. The meeting was a first in league history and came as a reaction to several assault charges over the last couple years. Not between the kids but between parents and coaches. What is wrong with these people? It’s MICRO soccer for goodness sakes. They don’t even score the games.

This past week I experienced another first. My first PTA meeting. Well, PTTA actually. I haven’t figured out what the extra “T” is for, but since his school is in San Francisco and is very focused on diversity and inclusion, I’m guessing it’s for Transexual. The Parent Teacher Transexual Association. No?

The meeting was actually quite insipiring. Parents told their stories of how volunteering at the school has enriched their lives as well as their childrens’. Then they briefly listed all the areas of need. It was focused and to the point. No bitching and moaning as one might imagine. Very friendly and efficient. And they passed around wine and champagne so what’s not to love about the PTTA? By the end of it I was seriously considering offering to co-chair a big end of year fundraising event. Heck, I might even bake a batch of cookies.