Bridges: One Famous, One Metaphorical, One Made of Lego

It hadn't really occurred to me until now, but I'm again living in a city famous for its bridges.  And, despite the seemingly constant congestion imposed by the Bay Bridge, I'm happy for it. 

Manhattan, being an island, was connected by so many bridges (and tunnels) that it took me a few years to memorize them all.  I still, and will probably always, have a soft spot for the George Washington Bridge, which connects Manhattan and New Jersey.  Ten times a week I would cross this double-decker marvel, in the morning to Jersey and in the evening, blessedly, back to Manhattan.  The morning view from the bridge wasn't all that inspiring - just Jersey and the impending threat of work - unless there happened to be snow on the Palisades.  But the ride home, that was a different story.  The city, sparkling under the night sky or eerily obscured by a midwinter fog, always called and comforted.  Crossing that bridge meant, quite simply, coming home.  And that meant the world. 

Here in SF I'm developing a fondness for the Golden Gate.  We have a partial view of its spires from the top of our street, at least on clear days.  Even better, on the other side of its span are some of the best views, towns, and historical sites in the bay area.  That's why, this last Monday, Mimi, Obachan (Sumie's Mother), and I all decided to cross the Golden Gate and head into Marin for the day. 

We left early, the sunshine holding despite the gloomy forecast, and explored Sausalito.  While it's a bit touristy - like a mini Pier 39 on the other side of the bay - it does offer some fantastic views, tasty cafes, and plenty of dogs for Mimi to point at and scream, "wan-wan!" 

After walking along the shore we settled outside at a little cafe for brunch.  Outdoor seating, no matter the temperature, is always best when you're dining with Mimi.  Remarkably, she actually sat on my lap and ate for at least half the meal.  This is usually Sumie's job - Mimi will have nothing to do with me at mealtimes if her mother is around - but with Sumie absent, I guess Mimi decided I'd do in a pinch. 

After taking down some of my eggs and covering half my English muffin with slobber, Mimi decided it was time to explore the sidewalk around our table.  She was quick to make friends, even though she looked a bit intimidating with her bottle.

We crossed the Golden Gate back into SF around 2pm and Mimi went down for a nap.  That evening, inspired by our trip across the bridge, Mimi and I decided to break out the Legos.  Mimi, as we've seen before, was still quite interested in wearing the Lego box on her head. 

This was good news for me as I was, as I often am when it comes to Lego, a man obsessed.  What is it about men that enables them to play with children's toys?  Or maybe I'm generalizing too much and it's just me.  Either way, Mimi helped me pick out the right pieces for my project and before we knew it, we had a little model of that great orange bridge (albeit not quite to scale or color). 

The evening held one more bridge for us to cross: that mystical, metaphorical, and often quite lengthy bridge from diapers to potties. 

As we already know, Mimi is a fan of her potty.  She's just not quite sure how it works. 

We made a bit of a breakthrough, though, Monday night thanks to, of all things, Mimi's occasional constipation.  Mimi will occasionally strain when it comes time to poop.  Unfortunately, the strain comes from her attempting to hold the poop in and she eventually gets a bit blocked up, which just leads to more straining and more blocking.  This was the situation Monday night. 

As Mimi was straining, I rushed her to the potty, removed her diaper and, before I knew it, was rewarded with a terrible stench.  Lifting Mimi up I discovered that she'd left a rather massive stool behind in the bottom of her potty.  Success!  We have a long way to go - Mimi still thinks her potty belongs in the living room - but it's a start.  A proud papa, I, of course, took a picture of Mimi's magnificent stool.  But, on thinking it over a bit, perhaps some things are better left unshown.