Funny morning so far.

Zadie clomps into our bedroom at about 6:45 and stares at us. I look up and see she has already put on her toy stethoscope. I greet her with "Hi, Doctor." We walk out together towards the kitchen and she asks why doctors use stethoscopes. I explain, and she hesitates, then confides, "I know I'm not a real doctor."

I then fiddled around with the coffee and checking email while she did a few other things. Then, in an apparent continuation of our running Snow White game, she walked up to me and said "So, are you going to eat this crunchy apple or not?"

Life with a kid is so random.

Random Zadie stuff

What do you think?

I got her to read her name just before I started recording, but she wouldn't do it on camera, and a few days ago she got "cat," too. When I tried to re-create it for Sweetie, though, she just cooed "I don't know" very cutely.

Big Fun

We went to the fair today! Mom picked us up and we got there right as it was opening. I wish it opened a bit earlier, since it's hard to work around nap/dinner/bedtimes, but whatever.

First up was the county exhibits. They're a little silly, but Zadie seemed to like the animatronics. Then we went right to "the farm," and started at the insect exhibit. It was pretty cool. Zadie liked the beetles, moths, butterflies, and hornworms especially, I think. Some of the butterflies were astounding. They were lovely colors, but some actually shifted color as you moved around them, and others so closely replicated the look of an owl's eyes and the feather texture that it was unbelievable.

Then we went through to the livestock area, where there were lots and lots of babies. Cows, pigs, goats... There was one pen with a mama pig, a bunch (six?) of piglets taking a nap all piled up together, and one little guy who would just NOT stop nursing. Reminded me of someone...

Next up was lunch. Several years ago, there was a place in the county building that had veggie burgers, including a teriyaki version with a grilled pineapple that was fantastic. I kept thinking maybe they'd just moved it, but we couldn't find it at all. We found another place with veggie burgers, though. Mom got a chicken sandwich, I got Z a burger and fries and lemonade, and I got a veggie burger. Of course, about 30 seconds after I paid, they determined they were out of veggie burgers. I asked if they could make a grilled cheese instead, and watched as the cashier discussed it with the cook. At one point he ladled up a spoonful of nacho cheese sauce, and I said "you know, that's cool -- I'll take the refund." I found a place a few stalls down that had a veggie burrito and we all ate. Well, Zadie was a little too excited, I think, and didn't touch her burger.

Next up was the midway, kiddie-version. That was a disappointment. I had read on a friend's Facebook page that the kiddie rides may not reflect height accurately and that her daughter (who is older than Zadie) couldn't ride anything. I checked the fair's web site, and the carnival operator's page said clearly that the kid zone had 28 rides for kids who didn't meet the height requirements for other rides. (Incidentally, I looked at this page two or three times, and they've now changed the web site so that it accurately reflects the height requirements. The link was still in my history, though, and it says "Family Rides can accommodate both adults and children. Kids who do not meet the height requirements of other rides can enjoy Family Rides with a parent or someone 18 years or older.") Anyway, when we got there, we found out my friend was right: the only ride we could find (and admittedly, we didn't check every single one, but many...) was the carousel.

Oh well. Next up was the petting zoo, and then we headed to some of the other exhibits, including the "fur and feathers" exhibit. She happily made the appropriate animal noises at all the animals.

By then, it was three o'clock, and she was tired and cranky. We came home, and ever since Zadie has been asking about other things we can do at the fair.

She told me she was going to be a pilot.

Hanging out with Grandma.

On the pony.

My little sunflower.

Scaredycat and the SMUD yard

On Sunday I got called out of my yoga class because, for the first time in months, Zadie was having a meltdown in the child care center of the gym. The problem? They had turned on the movie "Pocahontas," and she was scared of the man who sings "Mine mine mine."

Yesterday, I got called out of yoga again. Scooby Doo was on, and there was a ghost.

It's funny, because Zadie doesn't seem like a kid who would be so easily frightened or upset by something on a TV screen. She'll touch worms, she likes bugs, she'll eat anything... It's a challenge to balance my reaction as a parent. Part of me wants to just be like "Shoot, there's nothing to be scared of! Don't be silly, it's just pretend!" On the other hand, to call it silly doesn't seem to be very respectful of feelings that are real to her. I'm trying to find a balance.

In the meantime, I haven't been getting my workouts in with any regularity. Yesterday we left the gym only half an hour into my yoga class (and the first half hour of yoga is like just checking to make sure you're breathing), but I went back in the evening. Today she didn't want to go at all, so we went on a walk, and I planned to go back later, but I'm tired and I sort of dilly-dallied until it was too late to go.

But that leads to the SMUD (Sacramento Municipal Utility District) yard. I had heard about a year ago that there was a nice walk to be had on the SMUD grounds and that you could even pick up a map that identified the plants and trees. I poked around online, hoping there was a PDF, but there wasn't. I remained curious, and today seemed like a good opportunity. We walked over there and asked the man at the information desk, and he handed me the map. We set out and started walking around.

It was interesting. At no point can you forget that you are walking on the grounds of a huge business: workers walk by with ID badges, men drive by on maintenance carts, and there are little signs warning you to put your lid on your coffee cup lest you spill it on your keyboard, or not to text message while walking through the parking lot. And to add to that ambience, the freeway is across the street, so it was almost impossible to hear my kid talking to me over the noise. And yet, it was a nice walk!

We identified lots of trees and plants and found plentiful shade and greenery. It wasn't all well set up for walking -- there were many places where you had to walk off the path and onto a lawn to read the signs -- but overall it was honestly a nice little walk. I'd have walked around even more if we'd had more time.

Ballet again

So Z's last ballet class is tomorrow. A week ago, I was sure it would be her last one for a long while. Remember the photos from her first class? Yeah.

But this is what it was like last week.

Not that she didn't get talked to by the teacher...

And require a lot of personal attention...

But you know, she was really on task a lot for the first 1/2 hour. An hour is too long for her, and compared to the older girls, she really still was distracted a lot. But she loves it, so now I'm not sure. Part of my decision right now also has to weigh the fact that I only have a month more of vacation, and on one of those Thursdays we're going out of town and on another I probably have a workshop, so if I paid for another four classes, I'd be sticking Mom with taking her to two of them. Sigh. I don't know. I have to pay by tomorrow morning if we're signing up again. Maybe I'll start talking up how awesome soccer is.

Roller coasters

We're going to the fair tomorrow. I just found out she can't ride any of the rides, after I'd already told her she could. But we don't really need roller coasters anyway... we have her little personality.

Today she told me, "I love you. The thing is, you're good, and I love you." She also told me "I don't love you. I don't want to be with you. I'm going to Chicago."

In one of her cuter moments, she asked me to be the mean witch from Snow White, so I was offering her a poisoned apple.

Z: Ah, well, no thank you.

Me: But it's delicious and crispy.

Z: Ah, my mommy said I can't have it.

Me: But you live with the dwarves now -- you can do whatever you want.

Z: Well, it has to be clean. Will you wash it in the kitchen sink?

I'm left wondering whether poison can be washed off.

Why parents of two-year-olds need a time-out

Me: Hey, do you want to go to the gym?

Z: No!

Me: Okay, that's fair. We go a lot, but I thought you liked it. Where do you want to go instead?

Z: The train museum.

Me: Okay, let's get dressed and pack a snack [I put a nectarine into a bag].

Z: I want an apple.

Me: Hmm, we don't have any apples. How about a nectarine or a plum or some strawberries?

Z: I want an apple!

Me: Well, I guess we have to stop to get cash anyway. Would you rather get your apple from the Save-Mart or the Co-Op?

Z: I don't want to go there!

Me: Hmm, okay. Well maybe you should have a different snack.

Z: IIIWWAAANNTTTAAANNNAPPPLEEEE!!!!!! AUGHGHGHGH!!!!

Me: Okay, okay, we'll figure something out.

Z: [picking up my nectarine and throwing it violently to the floor] What is this?

Me: It's my snack, a nectarine. When you threw it, you probably gave it a bruise, so I think I'll eat it now. Do you want to try a bite?

Z: NOOOO!!!!! I want an aaaaapppplllleeee!!

Me: Okey doke.

Z: IIIII WAAANNNTTTT A BIIIITTTEE!

Me: [slices off a bite and hands it to her]

Z: [throws it back at me] No!

Me: All right, I'll eat this piece [I eat the piece].

Z: I WANT MY PIECE!

Me: Okay, here. [I cut another piece and hand it to her.]

Z: [Places it on the counter without taking a bite.]

We finally got out of the house, went to the museum, enjoyed it for about 90 minutes, walked to the river to look at it, then, at her request, went to Cafe Bernardo for lunch.

Z: You don't love me.

Later I was singing a little song to her, and she said "Why do you love me?" I said "Because you're my baby girl." She grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked. Then she fell asleep.

At home, after her nap, I started making her a purse. She followed me into the kitchen while I rolled out pizza dough and said "Mina* is going to die." Foolishly, I suppose, I asked "What did you say?" She repeated it. I said "Honey, please don't say that again, that makes me feel sad." She said "That's my job! Mina's gonna DIE!"

So, yeah, if you see me around town smelling of vodka** at about ten a.m., you'll know why.

*Mina is my cat.

** Just kidding. Scotch.

By the way...

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Originally uploaded by countmockula

Do we have the same profile or what?

Bodega Dunes

I went camping! Funny thing -- I was talking on the phone to a friend (a longtime co-woroker who has two kids, one very close in age to Zadie). Anyway, he asked how my summer was going, and I said that it was great, but I expressed mild regret that I hadn't gone camping as I'd hoped to. Well, he responded that he and his family were going this week and we were welcome to tag along. I know with some people that would be an insincere invitation, but I suspected his wasn't, and I accepted!

Sweetie had other plans already, but Z and I packed our things and left after ballet on Thursday. They had initially made a reservation at Wright's Beach, but texted me when I was almost there to say that it was a pit and they had switched to Bodega Dunes. For various reasons, both my GPS and Google Maps had a hard time finding these places, so I got a bit lost, but then I finally got there. It was the loveliest campsite I've ever stayed at! Oh gosh, it was on sandy dunes, it was clean, had nice bathrooms (with plumbing), had a "campground host" who walked around to check on things (and sold firewood), and it was so quiet. By ten, it was dead silent except for a distant foghorn.

Anyway, we set up camp swiftly while the kids played, then got a fire started. The wood was a bit damp, and we didn't have kindling, but eventually we got it going. We had packed a simple dinner -- mixed veggies in foil thrown on the grill, plus a bit of sourdough I toasted on the grill. After dinner we made s'mores with some hilarity (Zadie spat out marshmallow, apparently much preferring them raw, and my friend improbably burned himself on the nose with a flaming marshmallow). Then we kind of talked and told stories and finally went to bed.

Now, I wasn't born yesterday, and I knew it could get cold on the coast, particularly at night. I packed two pairs of wool socks for each of us, fleece coats, layers, hats, flannel pajamas, leg warmers for Z, and a wooly suit for her. But as nightfall hit, it never got that cold. I skipped the suit altogether and we both slept in the fleece, wool, socks, and jammies... perfectly comfortably. I even slept with one arm out so I could put it around her, and I wasn't overly cold. It was a surprising and pleasant turn.

In the morning, I made pancakes and put on the coffee percolator. Do you mind an aside? Listen, while camping, any cup of coffee is heaven on earth. It's foggy and birds are chirping and there's a fire and the smoke is drifting towards you and people are slowly unzipping their tents and shuffling around and there you are, steaming mug in your hand. I will honestly savor the worst cup of instant swill or cowboy coffee while camping. But I took a decent brew and a percolator and this coffee... my god, this coffee. I had three cups and then couldn't bear to dump out the rest, so offered it up to the campers across the way.

The kids had a delightful time playing together. Zadie was very disappointed that she couldn't be the kids' sister, but they had a lovely time anyway. She so loves to be included that when the younger boy "bonked" his sister on the head, Zadie quickly 'fessed to bonking her, too (she hadn't).

They dug together, hunted for a rattlesnake together, screeched together at the "shivering grass," ran up and down the dunes, explored the neighbors' campsite, and wanted to walk endlessly to the bathrooms.

My friend's wife and I broke camp while the kids played and he went to see how far we were from the bay. He determined it was too far, so we finished up packing and drove to the beach. It was perfectly temperate. The waves were steady, the breeze was gentle, the sand was warm and soft, and the sun was shining. The girls found driftwood and laid it at my feet, announcing "Look what I found!"

We had some snacks, walked up and down the beach, and flew a kite. Even I flew it for a while, something I haven't done since I was about twelve.

Zadie found part of a sand dollar and I found a pretty huge piece of sea glass. It started to get close to lunchtime, and Zadie sat peacefully in my lap, a sure sign that she's tired. I had just started to think seriously about leaving when my friend said he saw a whale. I thought he was kidding. But about a minute later, I saw it spout! I saw it five more times, and then it really seemed to be gone. It was a perfect end to our trip.

Bodega Bay

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Originally uploaded by countmockula

Here's my lovebug examining trash. No, that's not a Marilyn-esque mole; that's the least filthy she was during our whole trip. More later.

Disapproving baby disapproves

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Originally uploaded by countmockula

Another eventful-ish week

It's odd, because I really wanted to take Zadie to the zoo, to Artbeast, to the city, etc. this summer. We've been home for three weeks now, and we haven't done a single thing like that. Yet I still feel really busy. Every day this week, we've eaten breakfast, gone to the gym*, done a few things, eaten lunch, then put her down for a nap. Her naps are long enough that she usually wakes up around the time Sweetie gets home, so then I make dinner and the day is practically over!

This week on Monday, our special outing was to Tower Cafe with Aunty Monkeygirl, who is leaving soon for San Francisco. Though it's not that far, and though she'll still be in town a couple days a week for work, I feel a little sad. And I realized that even though we have had lunch together twice this week, I didn't take any pictures of her with Zadie, and I've really been meaning to. I know, I know... it's not like I'll never get another chance. But... you know.

Anyway, on Tuesday I got my hair cut. She did it a little shorter on the sides and in back than usual and we did a platinum patch up front. It looks good. Zadie hung out with Grandma and Boompah.

On Wednesday, we had lunch with Sweetie on campus. We chatted up many of his co-workers, then Z and I had Indian. She declared it too spicy, but kept shoving fistfuls in her mouth, then making these ridiculous faces.

We had such a lovely time that I hate to complain, but seriously -- we live one mile away from campus and we left 20 minutes early, but we were 15 minutes late to lunch. Why? Well, I was going to turn into my usual parking lot, but it was blocked off. I turned into another lot that has a parking structure, but it, too, was blocked off. (Incidentally, there is NO signage warning you in advance that you're turning into a dead end. You just get there, and then there is a sawhorse.) I turned around and went back to the parking lot I usually park in, just using a different, more distant entrance. There's another garage there, so I headed for it. It was blocked off. And this time, I couldn't figure out how to get out. So many parts of the parking lot were blocked off that I just kept getting re-directed into another dead end. I finally figured it out, drove to the payment machine, paid my $6 (bastards), and parked about 1/2 mile from the library. I could've spat.

Anyway, on a lighter note, on Thursday we had ballet. She... uh... she tried. Honestly. To the best of her ability, I think. But a two-year-old's ability to stand on a piece of blue tape for an hour is pretty limited, especially when there are stamps just waiting to be touched, a barre to hold onto, other girls' tutus to fondle, and long periods while the teacher checks all five ballet positions of all eight other girls. It's just too much for her to handle right now. I am going to go ahead and take her to the next two classes, then drop it for a while. We can do ballet at home. Frankly, I am pretty impressed at all she *can* do given her age and attention span. She did plies, bourre turns, toe drops, first and second position, jazz hands, pointer fingers, "rock hands," and a butterfly stretch.

After ballet, we came home to pack a picnic lunch, then met Aunty Monkeygirl in Fremont Park, where a musician was playing some Americana/train songs. It was a lovely day, but HOT. Zadie insisted on playing on the playground for a while, but as our parking expired, I also noticed she was turning beet red. She'd been playing with a little boy who was a year and a week older than her, and when I told her we had to go, she said "But I'm playing with my boyfriend! I want to marry him!" Not so soon, kid!

Today we had big plans that involved Jo-Ann's fabrics, the post office, and Costco, but only Costco happened. We went to breakfast at Orphan, so we didn't get to the gym until about 9:15, which meant we didn't get out until 10:15, and then I got gas at Costco and the place was PACKED. It looked like the 70s. Anyway, then Costco was a minor nightmare (we needed a new TV, I parked in BFE, got inside, then realized my measurements were in the car, walked back to the car, back to Costco, then the model we wanted was the only one for which specs weren't listed and GOOD LUCK trying to get customer service in Costco). Finally, we got the TV, noshed a few samples (Zadie's hobby), and headed home. We had some edamame, crackers, watermelon, and potstickers for lunch, then had a nap. I actually got Z to sleep and was able to get up and leave her there, so Sweetie and I installed the new TV. Finally, Z got up and we got some stuff for dinner, a few things to stave of tomato blossom end rot (you have no idea how much each rotten tomato crushes my tomatoey hopes), and then home to make dinner. We all walked to Burr's Fountain for ice cream, and now I'm letting Z stay up too late. But not for long!

Take care,

CM

*What's that you say? Gone to the gym every day? Well... every weekday for three weeks now. Fifteen times in three weeks, almost doubling my former activity level. I still haven't dropped a pound, but whatever.

Ballet class

For those of you who were wondering, this is pretty much what ballet class looked like.

Aha!

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Originally uploaded by countmockula

Mystery solved. If you remember, Zadie said "Why do I find comfort in my mother's arms?" I think this may explain some of the wording.

Ballet and, separately, body image.

Well, as Zadie has been reading books about ballerinas, watching shows about ballerinas, reenacting ballets, telling me she is a ballerina, and insisting on wearing her ballet clothes, I thought she might like a ballet class. We went this morning and, well, it was pretty miserable. I don't know -- about 35-40% of the class was fun. She did several things very well, and when she got off her mark, the teacher would tell her to go back and she would. But the rest of the time, she was running around, sitting when she was supposed to stand (and vice versa), running out the door, and trying to pet other girls' leotards. The teacher invited me to participate in the hopes that it would keep Z on task, and it sort of did and sort of didn't. At one point, I was trying to stand her up, and she refused to put her legs down, hanging from my arms.

I honestly didn't know what to do. I didn't want to be the overbearing parent who insists that their kid do something they don't want to do, and yet I didn't want to be the parent who dragged her kid out of ballet class for not listening, either. I didn't want to push her, but I didn't want to not give her a chance, either. I tried to talk to her about it later, telling her that if she didn't want to go back, she didn't have to. She FREAKED. She really liked it and really wanted to go back. But I almost feel bad for inflicting Zade-zilla on this poor little optimistic teenaged teacher, too.

It's extra hard, in some ways, because although I LOVE ballet personally, I never wanted to push it on her. And I feel no twinge of dishonesty in saying I don't care whether she prefers ballet or soccer or mixed martial arts. I didn't even introduce her to ballet -- she came to it on her own through an "Angelina Ballerina" book. But I was happy. I bought her the ballet outfit. I bought a Nutcracker DVD. I showed her how to plie. So there's this nagging worry that I'm pushing her into doing something she doesn't want to, standing behind her and admonishing "do the port de bras arms!" Ugh.

Okay, new topic! I have been a little blue about my weight lately. I did so well, losing 25 pounds and dropping several dress sizes. But then I plateaued. And not for a week or for two weeks. I've been hovering around in the same five-pound area for five weeks. And I know that partly it was because I went to Oregon and enjoyed ramen and mocha borgias and pastries, but since I've been back it's been two weeks, and I've worked out five days a week, upped my intensity, and added an exercise, all for (apparently) nothing. So I'm frustrated about that.

On the other hand, I do have glimmers of hope. Like, I know that if I keep this up, I'll lose. It just has to happen. Plateaus happen, and sometimes they last for a while, but if it lasts for much longer, maybe I'll change something up -- type of exercise, or I'll lower my calorie-fat intake even more or whatever. And I can see that when I get down to my preferred weight, I think I'm going to have a smoking body. No, I'm serious -- not because I think thinness necessarily equates to hotness, but rather because I'm like an old home that has had crappy wallpaper put on it and mirrors with gold veins, but nevertheless has good bones. I have good bones. I mean, I have a bubbly ass, long legs, perky boobs (that breastfeeding doesn't seem to have had too much of an impact on)... when it all gets back into shape, that's going to be a very nice shape indeed. So there's that.

Happy anniversary!

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Originally uploaded by countmockula

Thanks for the best five years of my life.

Urban home-lightly-treading

These are the books I've been reading lately. I don't know why, but I'm more and more pulled to certain ideas lately, particularly sustainability and acting locally. The basic idea of urban homesteading seems to be that, even if you live in an apartment in the middle of the city, you can live closer to the earth.

Some things they're pretty into that I'm not include beekeeping, chickens, living in a tiny trailer, and learning the banjo. Actually, I'm not horrified by any of the ideas (with the possibility of the trailer), except that we don't have room for chickens and having bees just seems unwise with a toddler. In fact, none of the authors of these books seems to have children at all, so they don't really take them into account.

But there are some things I'm totally into. For example, canning foods to preserve them. I love strawberry jam. In fact, as much as I love all jams, strawberry jam would be my choice if I could only have one jam for the rest of my life. And California strawberries are plentiful, inexpensive, and the fucking food of the gods. So I bought a flat and tried my hand at canning. Now I'll have jam for ages, and I made it myself, preserved it, and can (in future) tweak the flavor to my liking. Now I don't have to worry about whether my jam is local, sustainable, organic, or whatever. It's mine! I have total control over it. And in January, when it's gray and cold and horrible, I can open up a new jar and taste summer all over again. Not to mention that I spent $18 on strawberries, gave three pints away, made a batch of ice cream, made some smoothies, and have eaten strawberries all week in addition to making the jam. The only other ingredient I paid for was sugar, which I already had in the cupboard. And I made three quarts of jam. See how much that runs you in the grocery store. It's a steal to make it yourself!

I am also into growing our own food. Obviously, we won't be able to grow all of it, or maybe even half, but we've grown or are growing broccoli, cauliflower, salad greens, tomatoes, herbs, squash, melon, snap peas, onions... The books have inspired me to both improve our garden (with tricks like soaker hoses, fertilizer tea, and mulch) and to plant more edible things all around the house, including maybe some berries and dwarf fruit trees.

I also quite liked Jenna Woginrich's exhortation to buy used stuff. I am a consumer, and I tend to go to Target and come out with $100 worth of stuff. But she's right that if you find a cheese grater at an antique store, it may be made more sturdily than Ikea crap. I actually already acted on this one and bought a crock from the antique mall rather than something new.

The Urban Homestead has some great ideas for conserving energy and using solar. I may look into some of those. I mean, we're pretty energy-efficient as-is, but I know we could improve. There were also some great ideas for saving/harvesting/recycling water from various sources. Some of them may not work well for us (using graywater to water a tree just isn't logistically sensible for us with the way our parcel is laid out), but others could.

The crock I bought was to make some sourdough starter with wild yeast. Sweetie called me on it, saying "I don't remember sourdough starter being part of our urban homesteading." Well, it hadn't been -- it was just a wild hair for me. But as I continued reading, it did come up in the book! I mean, how much more local can you get than catching your wild yeast in your kitchen? Woginrich waxes rhapsodic about how wonderful it is to have home-cooked food fresh from your homestead to serve to guests, and although she gets a touch "woo-woo" about it, I understand where she's coming from. There's little I like better than making food for people and having them enjoy it. A little bird told me that my stepdad, Boompah, liked both some brownies and some ice cream I made recently, and it made me practically giddy!

Anyway, not everything in the books is for me, as I said. The Urban Homestead book recommends dumpster diving to salvage food, and not only is that, as far as I know, illegal, it doesn't really pass my "grody" test. Compost pile of rotting food in the backyard? Yes. Hand-rinsing poopy diapers? Yes. Eating food out of a hot trash bin? No.

Anyway, those are a few of the things that have been floating around my head recently. My sourdough starter has really taken off -- it was just a flour and water paste a few days ago, and now it's bubbly, smells beery, and doubles in size after each "feeding." I think this weekend I might try my hand at my first loaf of sourdough bread. Wish me luck!

Little update

Well, after yesterday afternoon's update, I went on a couple errands and came back to find her awake and kind of zoned out in front of the TV. We all cleaned up and took her to Kamon for a sushi dinner, and gimpy arm or no, we could barely keep up with her shelled-edamame needs. She ate an entire order herself and then asked for some of ours! She also ate almost a whole California roll. She was tired when we came home, and we tried once more to relocate her ligament. She howled, but it didn't seem to have any effect otherwise. We put her to bed.

This morning, we met Grandma for breakfast at Tower Cafe (and by the way, they use Naked Lounge coffee, and it's the best restaurant coffee I've had in ages). Zadie looked like she had bathed in jelly, but we cleaned her up and headed to the farmers market. I only got corn, mushrooms, and strawberries, but I got a big ol' flat of strawberries! Then we went to the playground, where she mostly wanted to swing. (Her right arm was pretty much totally out of commission.)

We headed back to Grandma and Boompah's, where she played in Boompah's "silver and shiny" car for a while. Then we went back to our house for a small snack, a little rest, and a change of clothes. I manipulated her elbow once more. And then it was off to Grandpa John's for his annual 4th of July pool party/BBQ bash. Zadie was absolutely thrilled that her step-cousins were there, particularly Little Tia, whom Zadie is in love with. Everyone fussed over her and I had a nice lunch, although she was too busy playing to stop and eat. She was still really favoring her arm, and wouldn't use it almost at all.

At home, we took a little nap, and when she woke up, she was crazy grouchy. She didn't want to eat, she only wanted my new Joan Jett Barbie (dude, it's awesome). She scowled at her pizza and chanted "I want Joan Jett!" Finally we gave her a waffle soaked in butter, she licked the butter off, and we called it good. We took her outside to play in the sprinkler, and soon our neighbors came over. Laurie asked "Hey, Zadie, are we okay or are you still mad at me?" Zadie nodded. Laurie said "Which one? Are we okay or are you still mad?" Zadie answered "I'm still mad at you."

We went into the backyard, where she has a little pool, and checked out the garden. She sat in her sandbox and splashed in the pool and poked at tomatoes. We found one that was a little underripe, but it nevertheless came off in my hand, so we ate it. Yum! Then we came in and played with Joan Jett. Zadie made Joan Jett talk to her Layla Barbara, and she totally had a different voice for Joan Jett. It was kind of like her Boompah voice. Sweetie accuses me of using my Granny voice for everyone, so maybe Zadie has the same affliction.

Sweetie and I noticed that she was sort of using her arm. She was still holding it and favoring it, but she was also using it once in a while. We pulled out our arsenal of tricks, and got her to high five us, hang on our arms, and do push-ups, so clearly it's working again. Whether it was what I did around noon or whether it just popped back into place naturally later, I think it's okay. She is still a little sensitive about it (she "ouched" when I put her arm through her pajama top), but she can definitely put weight on it again. Maybe now she'll forgive Laurie...

Okay, a few last things. I'm making strawberry jam for the first time! More later on the food blog, but in short, I am thinking it might be good. I had just a few tablespoons left over after canning three jars, and I put it on toasted pita. It was tasty! I used a no-pectin recipe and followed it to the letter. It's my first time canning, so I'm a little nervous, but the worst-case scenario is that they didn't seal properly and I have to put them in the fridge and use them up, in which case I'll give two jars away and enjoy eating the other.

You must get sick of hearing how crazy smart Z is, but you have to hear this: Tonight while we were playing with the Barbaras and telling stories, she sat in my lap, snuggled down, and said "Why do I find comfort in my mother's arms?" I mean... WHAT?! Seriously, what the freak? Sometimes I swear she's being fed these lines. She must have heard it somewhere, right? I don't know where, but she can't have come up with that herself.

And lastly, I am writing this to the sounds of a big fireworks show. Sweetie is a spoilsport and always grouses about fireworks. I kind of like them. I like the smell afterwards, and I love the big displays in the air. But what the sounds are making me think of tonight is the first night he and I spent together, seven years ago exactly, in his little apartment on Howe Avenue. It was the Fourth of July, and we'd been crazy about each other since the day we met. He walked all the way to my Grandma's house to meet me for a date that night, and we ended up downtown with some friends for a while, and then went back to his place, where his GI Joes were all lined up at the foot of the bed, looking for all the world like they were going to shoot at me. In just a few days, it will be our five-year wedding anniversary, and I'm so glad the Joes didn't scare me off. The sound of fireworks will always make me think of you, Sweetie.

Rough 18 hours: first doctor's visit-worthy injury

In brief, because I'm tired:

We're hanging out with the neighbors. Neighbor Laurie picked up Zadie to swing her. Zadie started screaming. She really cried, and most of the adults around were concerned, but then dismissed it as histrionics. I didn't think so, but I let her play for a few more minutes. She was cradling her right arm with her left, and when she fell on some grass, she couldn't get up, and started screaming again when she put weight on her right arm.

We took her home, iced it a bit, gave her some Tylenol, and checked it pretty carefully to make sure it wasn't broken (she was able to reach out and take a piece of gum).

We put her to bed, and she woke up about every three hours crying. She would normally climb out of bed to come get us, but since she couldn't use her arm, she just lay there. This morning at 6:30 when she woke up crying again, I decided to call Kaiser.

They agreed we should come in, and we got an appointment at 9:10. Z only wanted to snuggle on my lap, so that's pretty much all we did. She ate some Cheerios and raisins and we iced her arm some more. Finally, it was time to go. We got her dressed (well, her bottom half -- I didn't want to mess with taking her pajama top off), packed a few books and some water, and went to the doctor.

We had to wait a while, and then we were seen by a nice doctor. She poked around a bit, and told us she didn't think it was her wrist (which we thought), because she was holding and bending her wrist, and normally kids wouldn't grab something that was hurting. She thought it was a dislocated ligament in her elbow, a common affliction called "nursemaid's elbow," which comes from lifting kids by the arms. She tried twice to put it back in place, which Zadie did not like at all. We waited ten minutes, she came out to check and see if Zadie was using it yet (when it pops back into place, often kids start using the arm again right away). She wasn't, so we were sent down to X-ray. The guy there was really nice. Zadie wasn't happy about this process either, since she had to stretch out and turn her arm a lot, but she was a trooper through it all. She asked what his favorite color was.

Then we went back up to the pediatrics waiting area. The doctor had said to "just come back up," so we did, but after we had waited 20 minutes or so, we thought to ask whether we were supposed to check back in or something. It turns out, we were just supposed to knock on the door. Whoops! We had already been there for two hours, and we were all tired and hungry.

The doctor said the X-rays were all clear, and showed us how to try to relocate the ligament ourselves at home after the swelling goes down a little. I could probably suck it up and do it, but it's making me a little sick to think of it, seeing how much it seemed to hurt her.

We left and went to Costco, where Zadie had sample-palooza (one of her favorite activities), and then to Toys R Us, where we totally spoiled her for being a brave little monkey. Sweetie got her some Barbara outfits and I picked out a medical kit.

Now we're home and I'm going to try to get her down for a nap.

Brief funny bits in the doctor's office. We explained what had happened, that the neighbor had picked her up to swing her. The doctor asked if Zadie had any plans for the day, like a picnic. Zadie answered "Not with the neighbors."

When we first walked in, the nurse wanted to take her temperature with the ear thing. Zadie looked skeptical (she hasn't really been herself today), so the nurse did it to me, first. As soon as she was done, Zadie stepped forward and said "Now use it on me!" Then in the office, the doctor was poking at her arm, and she demanded "Use the stethoscope on me!"

Well, she's actually crashed out on me now, so I'm going to see if I can move her to bed.

Take care, all. Don't dislocate anything.

My girl

We've been doing a few things here and there, but nothing of much import. We've gone to the gym, swum at Grandpa John's, visited Grandma and Boompah, and shopped a lot (yesterday we took the red wagon to Trader Joe's and East Sac Hardware, where I got some canning supplies).

Here are a few highlights. Today, while doing some errands, we had to stop at the Co-op. It was about her usual snack time, and I hadn't packed anything, so I bought her a Z-bar (the kids' version of a Clif bar). At the car, I unwrapped it and handed it to her. She said "thank you," and I said "you're welcome." About a minute later, she said "thank you" again. I said, "For what?" She said, "for buying me a Z-bar and giving it to me."

Also today, I told her she looked pretty in her dress. She said, very sincerely, "you look pretty in your dress today, too."

It's not all blowing sunshine up my ass, though. Among her threats today included "I'm going to put you in service!" and "I'm going to hit you with a tree and put a leaf on your head!"

She told me a long story this morning. To the best of my recollection, it went like this. "I got poked by a tree. I was walking, and I saw a tree, but I didn't know what it was. But then I recognized it, and it was a palm tree, and it had pokey things on it, and it poked me on my arms. I needed a band-aid from your house. We can read about it at the library. We will go there and they will say 'Oh, what's your name?' and I will say 'Azadeh." And they will say, 'Azadeh, that is a beautiful name!'" (By the way, she actually did use the word "recognized" accurately.)

We went to Cafe Capricho for lunch. I quite like it, and Zadie does too. The woman who almost always works the counter is really friendly, and when Zadie was throwing a fit (I had the unmitigated temerity to eat a chip), she came over and talked to us and gave Z a strawberry. Zadie complimented her earrings, and told her that she wanted to be her when she grew up.

Today we wet to get frozen yogurt after a long hiatus. I always get hot fudge for Sweetie's yogurt, and Zadie totally remembered. As soon as I said we were going, she marched up to Sweetie and announced "We will get you hot fudge!"

The saddest thing today has been when we went to the community center to try to take a ballet class. I was really careful not to let slip why we were there, just in case the class was over-full and we couldn't get in. I didn't want her to be disappointed. But we got there, and no one was around. We were a little early, so we waited, and waited. We played on the small playground, and after a while, I started talking to a woman pushing her daughter on the swings. After a few minutes, I told Zadie, "Okay, we have to go in, because I want to check on a class." The woman blurted out "Oh, are you here for the dance class?" Zadie freaked. We went inside, and there was no class, but she ran down the hallway yelling "I see the class! I see it!"

The second saddest thing was on the way home from frozen yogurt. She was obviously tired, but insisted on walking. She tripped, and when she fell, her hand shot right under my shoe as I put it down. She cried, and I picked her up to hug her and kiss her owie. Our conversation went like this:

Z: Why am I crying?

Me: Because you fell and hurt yourself.

Z: Why does my hand hurt?

Me: Because it got smooshed.

Z: What did it get smooshed by?

Me: My shoe?

Z: Why did my hand get smooshed by your Keen?*

Me: It was an accident. When you fell, your hand went right under my foot.

Z: Say you're sorry.

Me: It was an accident, but I am. I'm really sorry.

Z: I still feel sad.

Okay, time to put the wee monster to bed.

Look for an upcoming post about my urban homesteading reading and brainstorming.

*Yes, she knows her shoe brands. I... am ashamed.