Before I started this blog, I had a blog about teaching that had a fairly regular and sizeable following. Th posts were about curriculum, classroom management, activities. I occasionally whined, but generally, it had focus and purpose. The Kitchen Table is still working itself out. What is lacking, however, is stuff about us and our lives. It seems oddly impersonal to me, as though I'm keeping my thoughts at arms' length. This became more clear since Piapie started a blog so friends from all parts of the country could follow their adventures in the DC area. Piapie and the gang temporarily transplanted to the DC while Papi Chulo does some work for the feds (this is not a wholly accurate description, but it sounds exciting … high school science teacher goes to Washington and makes a change in the world of education).
The Footles also keep a blog that chronicles their twins' days (a recent shot showed them holding hands, so sweet). I keep Lentil secret. I mean, I'm not really sure how many people actually read this blog. I know that Mister does, and so does Cake, and Piapie does on occasion. But regularly? I haven't resolved how much to talk about, which in turn makes this blog a little too diary-like. I don't fancy myself a professional mommy-blogger (for one thing, I think I've missed the boat on that idea, and for another, I simply cannot post everyday, and certainly not with extraordinary pictures. Someone has to clean the kitchen.)
So, here I am, sitting at the kitchen table, sipping tea and thinking about this blog and why I keep it at all. Part of it is ego. I like to write, I'd like to work on my writing. It wasn't really about Lentil in the beginning, more about our whole life together. But there's so little of her here and she's so very funny and fantastic that I have to bring her into the fold more. I have ways to remember the days with her, but some people, like my mother, don't live close enough to see her daily, let alone weekly.
A few weeks ago (already? a few), Mister watched Lentil while I ran errands. It was a whole day without her. He wanted to take her to sushi lunch — her first time and I insisted on going with them. Lunch didn't work out, but dinner did, and Cake and Nana joined us. She gobbled down avocado rolls and miso soup, and probably would have liked the fish but I said no to raw fish since I had not consulted the Mama Manual on sushi and babies before we went out.
You can't see her disco shirt, but it has a dude with a blow-out spinning vinyl. Lentil is hip. Mister and I are not.
This as the first trip to a restaurant in a long time with her. Dinner is at 5:30, then we are off and running in our bedtime routine. She held up remarkably well. She hung out on my lap while eating. Chatted with everyone, looked around, but seemed content. That is her nature, really. She is easy-going. I don't know if that's nature or nurture, but it is who she is.
The first are interesting and intense. I had to ask Mister not to make all of their days together the super-awesome exploring fun days, which leaves mine as the usual, ho-hum, pancakes again kind of days. Not a good balance if I'm bologna and he's prime rib. (I think I'm hungry.) Lentil and I have done some museum trips, but here are others on our list:
- Fairyland (complete with my silver anniversary key my parents bought for me when I was six or so)
- Ardenwood (a working farm)
- a ferry ride
- Museum of the African Diaspora
- Contemporary Jewish Museum of San Francisco
- Oakland Zoo
- the beach
This isn't a complete list, just a few places to add to our list of sites and sights. Next weekend, we're having a family day in Golden Gate Park, just like Mister and I used to when we lived only a few blocks from the park. Oh, heady days.