Ari probably knew your name, but now he may actually say it

Today when Ari was looking through his book of photos he was willing to identify so many more people by name. Auntie Papaya was "Paipa"; Zev was "Zzz"; Cate was "Tate". It was really cute to hear him call Auntie Papaya "Paipa" and also very cute to hear him identify Jeanne as "Jea". He said their names with such sweet affection and such gurgling zest, respectively. I love his little nicknames for people. Zoey is "Yo Yo" and his former babysitter Juliet used to be "Lulu" a name she seemed to revel in. (It is a good name.) He calls Dylan "Bubba" which is pretty cute and longstanding. It seemed to me he was also identifying Gefen but I wasn't quite sure. Also, he called Narayan "Raya" which I thought would please her if she knew. I haven't yet gotten him to say Maddy's name though. Don't know why. He calls my father "Dada" quite consistently, but is not clear exactly what to call my mother. Needs some help there.

Something about this naming business is terribly gratifying. Everything about this naming business is gratifying, actually.

***

Today at Dana Park I was playing with Ari in the sandbox and a friendly woman said to me, "So, is your son an olive?"

"I'm sorry? An olive, did you say?"

She laughed. "Is your son an aleph?"

I was very confused. I said, "His name is Ari, so I guess that's aleph resh yod." Let me tell you, this is not the average conversation I have around the sandbox at Dana Park.

Now she looked confused. "Isn't your son going to Aleph Bet?"

"The daycare? No--he goes to Tot Lot." Here the proverbial light was beginning to--proverbially--dawn.

She looked a bit embarrassed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I just moved here from Akron. I thought everyone at this park was here for the Aleph Bet reception."

"Oh! Is there one?" I had noticed one man wearing a kippah, which seemed unusual, and earlier had seen another man speaking Hebrew to his daughter. But I hadn't realized there was an event. Now, everywhere I looked I saw people wearing nametags with their name and their child's name in smaller letters. It was so interesting. People who "looked" Jewish; people didn't, people who seemed comfortable and clear about what was happening, and people like this very nice woman, who didn't. We started to chat about the choices and the area, and then, I ran into another one of Ari's Tot Lot compatriots, a fellow Jew (I assume) whose daughter has an Israeli name--one of my favorite girl's names. I asked him if he ever had considering sending his daughter to Aleph Bet. He said he had, but then decided Tot Lot was a better overall choice. For me, I knew I wanted Tot Lot above all other options, partly because it is so nearby, but also because it is so multicultural. But that doesn't mean my heart didn't give a squeeze today in the sandbox. I looked around at all the other families who pick up their children every day at the Tremont Street Shul and thought, "Oh, woe, what has happened to my Jewish life, and what the heck will happen to Ari's?"

Times like these I always resolve to build a sukkah. As if that will help. But then, I'm the kind of person who starts a blog when she says bye to one of her oldest and dearest friends. Like that helps.

I left Dana Park nostalgic once again--this time for things I have never known, a wistful, wispy sort of nostalgia for choices I did not make. And cannot make again.

Nothing like leaving Suzi in the Boston Gardens, turning around to see her bend over her daughter, knowing chances are good I won't see them again until Gloria is at least 5 or 6 years old. Nothing like leaving a part of my heart smudged and behind in the bent and broken end-of-summer grass, fluttering at Suzi's feet.

It's hard to love people this much. But love all of you I do.

snark at McCain

My brother pointed out this link:

http://talkingpointsmemo.com/archives/213806.php

that can possibly make the case that the McCain campaign is as inept as it seems to be. Not, I must sadly say, that anyone seems to care. This gets people's attention because it's funny. The fact that the RNC gave up to $10,000,000 to St. Paul in liability insurance in case of illegal actions being taken by the police to ensure against lawsuits being filed against the St. Paul police, in advance of those illegal, and may I say, anti-American acts, seems so much more frightening, doesn't it? At least, it does to me.

***

In other news, Ari went to the door of the house today and said, "Ari go car car. Ari go go car car. Ari go go go car car!" It was very cute. Cute clamoring. Clamoring that, perhaps, only a mother could love. He had been told we would go as soon as I changed his diaper, and then I was totally sidetracked by making chicken soup out of the chicken leftovers. That took a while; so he was in the right, I felt, to be outraged and sweaty and impatient. Would that we all were so cute while leaning up against the door, smudged against the glass, ready to go go go.

Amy Goodman was arrested

... I know it's already old hat, but I'm still outraged about it. And amazed at how quickly it becomes old news. I like this article because it reminds us how, not so long ago, when these same sorts of things took place, there was massive outrage. Now the same people who were outraged then are doing it to their peers and a whole other generation--and no one seems to notice or care. "The whole world is watching" we used to chant. This day, the whole world is watching American Idol.

http://www.truthout.org/article/st-pauls-police-protest-press

******

Ari wakes up from his nap today begging to be nursed. It is so hard to say no. I tell him he will have homemade mushroom barley soup for lunch; this does not lure him. He turns his whole body away from me and sobs. I pat his back and stare at his head; at the whorls of his hair. Such a heartwrenchingly beautiful pattern his hair makes, swirling into itself.

He turns back and looks at me; checks to see if I am looking at him. Of course I am. I give him a weak smile. He does not smile back. Turns away again. Quiets himself. The next time he turns around, he is ready for soup.

Today Ari is 19 months old

He continues to thrive in school. Yet I do notice little things. He has become interested in stuffed animals all of the sudden. There is a little kitty someone gave him--a beanie baby, I think--that we had kept up next to the blender so it earned the moniker "smoothie kitty." Today he clutched smoothie kitty to his body on his way into school. Hearing the story from Andi, it made me wonder if perhaps he is becoming insecure. I mean, I guess I'm expecting insecurity here. Wouldn't that be normal? But apparently as soon as he got into school he dropped smoothie kitty--splat--right on the floor and charged for the play-dough tables. (Tot Lot makes their play dough themselves--so much more appealing than the stuff, however beloved, that comes out of those cans.) Andi said it looked for all the world as though Ari had a job to do and he was there to get it done. Yesterday the job had gotten interrupted--but by gum, today it was going to be reckoned with. When she said good-bye he proffered his cheek for a kiss and kept on "working." That's my boy.

I guess I'm not that different. I started my new internship today and the woman leading the trainings said, "If you aren't nervous, I'd be worried about you." I thought, "I hope not." In my case, anyway, I think maturity might exempt me from that. Life owes me that much, because I wasn't a bit nervous. Only about getting there on time.

Yesterday, on the way back from the market, I just got so tired I felt I could not walk another step. Yikes! That's not good! I had planned to go to the library with Ari, but it was all that I could do just to get home. After all, I had not gotten a good night's sleep for many nights (how many is 19 months??), and it will keep being brutal until Ari is (relatively speaking) weaned. Andi's help has been beyond invaluable. She got up with Ari around 3:30 in the morning and fed him bananas and milk. He is settling down, but we still have a long way to go to get him to sleep on his own. It's like we're going through what lots of people do during the newborn phase, right now. That was such a blissful time for me, I didn't know what people were complaining about. Now I get it! I don't know how Andi does it. She is a saint, I want that noted on the Buddhist record, right now.

Actually, I didn't sleep last night either, but for some reason I am not so gut wrenchingly tired today. It's fun to get back in the action. I am also kinda excited about Research Methods (for G-d's sake, what has happened to me?? Come pluck me out of this social work trance, willya?) and two independent studies I am doing. One is on the question of spiritual competency--who decides? How do clinicians decide what is appropriate when working with clients from different faith backgrounds? This arose because last year I co-lead a Healthy Aging group and led a "metta" (lovingkindness) meditation. It went over really well and of course I loved it. I loved leading it, loved creating it, loved the devotion and beauty that arose on my clients' faces as they engaged with it. But many of my group members were Baptist, etc. and I wondered how I would address this one-on-one and what were the ethics and balance-of-power on the whole thing. So I'm interviewing clinicians. The other independent study is on the G/L/B/T/Q elder community in Cambridge. I'm excited about that as well. I really want to learn as best I can what the needs are there and how to meet them according to the population as best as I can find out. Yay, Research Methods! I may learn to love you after all!? We'll find out.

no, of course it isn't all bad

I don't want to make it sound like it is all awful with Ari and school. He isn't the big bad bruiser. Today he had a quiet day at school, from what I can tell--communication is a bit opaque. He was there for nearly 6 hours today and apparently only cried twice. I guess that's good. Probably as good as it gets. Andrew, the lead teacher, got Ari to sleep at nap time. I was very impressed by that because it is not easy to get that boy to sleep. That I can tell you. I'm sure Andrew had to work very hard to do it and he handled it all with good grace. That's something mama really appreciates. Ari handled it all with good grace too. Mama appreciates that every day. He is such a resilient little man.

Today, after Ari came home and nursed, he sat up and burped. Then he looked at me and remarked, "I burped." It was unmistakable and very surprising to me. I don't know why. Writing it down sounds so commonplace, but I guess that's what it was. Very conversational, as if I was talking to just anyone. He is making that transition right now into the world of words.

Communication is so precious and magical and human. Ari definitely makes me appreciate the wild luck of being born into this human body and mind.

Ari starts school, it is the third of Elul

I dropped Ari off at his second day of "school" today. This morning when I said, "Okay, it's going to be time to go to Tot Lot today," Ari dropped what he was doing, turned to me with a big grin and said, "Tra La!" Andi & I were very pleased that he was eager to go. I carried him over, clutching his lunch in my arms, and he and I sang a song about Tot Lot which I have now forgotten, even though we ran into our neighbor on the way who also goes to Tot Lot, and we sang the song to her. Here's what was packed in the lunchbox--freshly sliced cucumbers from a neighbor's garden, fresh tomatoes from Andi's brother's garden (yum!), sliced avocado and melon. Then tofu and brown rice and apple slices. He probably will eat none of this except the rice and some of the tofu and a bit of the melon. Oh well. It is fun to pack his lunches right now, until I am starting work (Friday) and then I'm sure the whole thing will become more hectic and stressful and I will probably resort to lots of cheese sticks. I am going to go soon and make seitan stew (and beef stew for the guys) so that there will be more food on hand before we go into the cooking-drought. I hope to make a big batch of food each Sunday to eat throughout the week--and a Friday night chicken for the guys--but we will see.

The neighbors Ari & I ran into on our way to Tot Lot told me that their little girl had been talking about Ari all night long. You'd think this was a good thing, but she was talking about how Ari had taken away her shopping cart from her. I am sure he did. He is already the pushiest kid in that room; I suspected he might be and the teachers have thus far confirmed it. I am worried and uncertain about this but am trying to convince him that gentleness is the way to go. We talk about saying "beep beep" instead of pushing others and about touching in a lovie, gentle way. My cousin does such a great job of explaining this to her girls. It is a special gift. Ari is such a robust fellow... and I don't think he understands yet that he can hurt others. Maybe he does. He will have to learn.

He is also not his usual self, unfortunately. We are weaning right now and that is exhausting. I have not slept much or at all for three nights now. I expect it will be at least a few more nights until he gets it. We are doing the super-attenuated weaning. Andi is helping, the valiant trooper that she always is, so we are all three more than a little droopy--though Andi in particular seems so perky you'd never know that she has been up half the night helping to soothe the bereft baby.

Walking back from Tot Lot without Ari in my arms I felt again a wave of sadness and confusion. It was a lost sort of feeling. As if: I had him for a year and a half, but he is gone to me now. I had friends who were sitting in mourning, practically, when their son started kindergarten--and they had another at home and one more on the way. You'd think they would have been reveling. A part of me did feel light, liberated, but mostly I was disoriented and sad.

Still, I do feel grateful that I have had the chance to feel even this sadness. I think about all the people in the world who, for a whole host of reasons, don't get this chance and I do not revel too much either in my feeling of liberation or in my feeling of loss. And I guess I won't complain too much about the overwhelm that is very soon to come. I feel lucky to be me, walking down these Cambridge streets, greeting even the neighbors who may be faintly worried that my toddler is a bully, feeling that September breeze sneak around my shoulders, the light buzz of caffeine keeping me awake and alert and grateful to everyone who has helped me reach this place in time. That is of course our task during Elul, the month of remembrance. Today is the 3rd of Elul, and it is a time for introspection, for thinking about our lives. Since Yom Kippur is, in some ways, the day that I "die"--what would I like to make sure I wrap up this year, 5768? If I am blessed to live through the Day of Atonement--what would I like to make sure I do differently this upcoming year? Ari in some ways makes all of this very easy. I know exactly where my priorities are. But the crazy busy-ness I am about to face with my very full schedule this fall makes it all, in a certain way, very hard. Nonetheless I am very grateful I have reached this moment in time. Thank you for coming along with me. May it continue to be so.

Gustav is proof

Okay, so Palin's teenage daughter is pregnant, what of it? What difference does it make to the fact that Palin is scarcely more qualified to be president of the united states in the somewhat likely event that John McCain could croak if he was elected to the office than said teenage daughter? I must say, with apologies to the people I love who are gleefully chirping about this news, that it does not seem highly relevant to me; no indication about her values or her abilities or anything else.

What I am happy about is that Gustav seems to have eclipsed the Republican convention, all without seemingly doing much damage respective life & limb, in New Orleans at any rate. At least I hope so. If so, it would seem to prove once and for all that G-d frowns upon Republicans. Something most of us already realize.

Ari starts school tomorrow. We spent the day planning and organizing and (I hope soon) cooking. Andi and I (with Ari on the back) biked the different routes to where I'll be doing my internship today. It's been a busy-last-day-of summer. I keep humming tunes that don't quite fit in terms of words and yet still seem to fit the mood. Like Abba's: "Do you recall our last summer....." I always make up new words to these songs. "Do you realize it's our last day of summer...." Some of them fit superbly and others much less so but regardless I quickly forget them. Today when we were biking I sang to Ari about having him on the bike to the tune of Woody Guthrie's, "Take you riding in the car car" My version was something like: "Take you riding on my bike, bike, take you whenever you like like, it's not just you on your trike trike, we're together on the bike, bike." Etc. He would prod me on my back and demand, "more more." Most of the words were ripped past by the wind and startling pedestrians, but this is all part of what we do for love.

Today Ari could not stop talking about his cousins, "Okar" and "Elly." For right now they have trumped "Ahno" and "Go-Go" and "Aiko"--his usual talking points.