A fresh perspective

A friend of Eric's from work shared a list of houseplants that are particularly good for indoor air quality. We've had two houseplants for a while now - an aloe vera named Mr. T and a skinny-leafed teeny tree who we call Rev. Jesse Jackson (or just "The Reverend") - and they are both thriving. With our solid track record and this impetus we thought perhaps it was time for them to have some friends.

When Barbara was in town last week she and I took Emerson and went to a plant store called the Plant Warehouse which had good reviews on Yelp. It was described as "jungly" inside which I did not but should have interpreted to mean "not stroller friendly." They also have free wine. I'm new to plant shopping but I sense this is not typical. As far as I could tell the place was not also a spa.

With help from the friendly staff we came home with four new plants to freshen our air:

• "Mother-in-law's Tongue" - which looks sharp and potentially injurious. It is a dramatic-looking plant and I like the severity of it (there are few houseplants I would describe as "severe" so I guess that makes it stand out
• Janet Craig - weird that this is the name of a plant; it seems more like a name I would give to a plant. It is a cheerful friend
• Mums - we got dark red ones that seem to be enjoying living next to the heater
• Gerber Daisies - who doesn't love Gerber daisies? We got a small little plant that just has three flowers on it right now. They started wilting and leaning over so I watered them and propped them up with the help of a pencil. They are perkier now.

I have no idea if the air is fresher but it is definitely prettier having some greens in here.

The passage of time

It was either a few minutes ago or several years ago that it was March. I have no idea.

Spending all of one's time with a baby is an exercise in staying present in the moment. There is only right now - this morning and this evening are thoroughly irrelevant. We are doing things one diaper at a time in this house.

And yet sometimes my mind races ahead to when Emerson will be learning to ride a bike or getting his first cell phone. And it is crazy to me that I am not sure which of those will happen first.

Right now, though, we are savoring Emerson at four months: so curious and happy, discovering his hands, smiling and laughing, pure sweetness. What a delicious baby he is.

Things people say to people with babies

Having a baby with you in public seems to be the equivalent of wearing a sign that says: "Tell me what you think."

Here are a few recent favorites:

(from an older hispanic woman in the grocery store)
"Be careful - there are a lot of baby stealers out there!" and in the next breath: "This boy will be president of the United States someday!"

(from an older African American on the bus who was eating a huge sticky cinnamon bun with both hands)
"Hold him all the time. You can't spoil them when they're so little." And a little later. "Do you have a napkin?" [I produce one for him.] "I knew you would!"

(from a 30-something professionally dressed woman with short blond curly hair with a distraught look on her face, at about 3pm)
"If you're taking BART today - DON'T! They said they're announcing the verdict by 4:30pm today." (She then ran down the BART station steps. Apparently she was not the only one with this idea.)

People I don't know now suddenly know my name: Mom. As in: "Hey Mom! Are you a registered voter in San Francisco?"

But you know what? As annoying as this can be, when I am out without Emerson, I look around at everyone around me and think to myself "No one here knows that I have a baby." Which kind of makes me want to have a sign that says that I do.

Neighborhood explorations: The Library

I love our new neighborhood, Potrero Hill, for many reasons: Goat Hill Pizza, we're nearby friends, we have nice, if windy, parks nearby, Goat Hill Pizzza, you can actually park on the street pretty easily, the homeless people don't seem to know it exists, Goat Hill Pizza, and we are spared the majority of the fog. It's great!

My newest reason for loving Potrero Hill is the library. I was a big fan of the Mission Bay branch of the public library in our old neighborhood. Let me explain to you why I love the Potrero Hill branch even more:

See? It's delightful.

One recent afternoon I headed up there to return some beekeeping books and Emerson was snoozing in his carseat, as he so likes to do. I sat for a bit and read about bees while sneaking peeks at the gorgeous view expanding out before me. I didn't even have to keep ordering drinks to justify keeping the table: I could just sit there.

After not too long Emerson woke up and was hungry. I've gotten pretty good at breastfeeding discreetly in public* so I figured I would breastfeed with a view.

What I wasn't counting on was Emerson's enthusiasm that particular feeding: he growled, snorted, slurped and moaned loudly the whole time he was eating, which was probably 15 minutes. It was adorable and/or really disruptive to people who seemed to think they were in a library. Oh wait.

So I got a couple of nasty looks. With a view.

*No I haven't. But in this case I was actually pretty good.

A whole lotta love party

This past weekend I went to what I think was the best wedding I have ever been to. I rang a gong twice during the ceremony, which was awesome but would not all by itself have made this such an amazing wedding.

This was not originally going to be a wedding in the legal sense - it was being called a Love Party and was conceived as a commitment ceremony punctuating a fabulous weekend of fun. The week before the event Jamaica and Nelson (the starring couple) started feeling matrimonial and decided they would indeed go all the way. They went to City Hall and got themselves a marriage license.*

There were many, many highlights of the weekend. Here are just a few:

• First, the most obvious one: me gonging to open and close a short silent meditation, after a dramatic reading of Jon Kabat Zinn's "Wherever you go, there you are." I had one friend tell me afterwards that he thought the second gong was much better than the first one. They were both good, he insisted, but the second one was really great.
• I must say, the rest of the ceremony was pretty awesome, too. It was meaningful and moving without being too long, for which I doubly salute them. I won't go into great detail but you should know that it included a pagan handfasting ceremony, a sake ceremony, their own love stories for one another, a sanscrit chant and a rocking rendition of Cat Stevens' "Peace Train" which Eric played on guitar while Nelson's best man Campbell sang, with backup support from Nonoko and me**
• Square dancing to the music of the Dalton Mountain Gang, an awesome bluegrass band that was surprisingly willing to do requests, including a handful of songs they may or may not have actually known. Last time I went square dancing I was about eight months pregnant and all the bouncing got to be, well, uncomfortable. This time was pure unqualified fun.
• Seeing happiness everywhere, most importantly in the faces of Jamaica ans Nelson.

Love totally rules.


*The accompanying family planning literature probably feels more relevant when you aren't already pregnant, as in my case with Eric.
**My gonging was better than my singing, truth be told