Thanksgiving and an Exceedingly Lazy Saturday

The past several weeks have been, to say the least, busy.  Between my sister and her family coming last weekend, a surprise visit from Sumie's mother, Thanksgiving, and Sumie being on call, downtime has been a very precious, and very scant, commodity.  Perhaps that's why, despite the sunshine and it being unseasonably warm, we've yet to leave the house this Saturday.

Last Thursday was my first time to have Thanksgiving back at home for 10 years.  I'd missed it.  My mother's side of the family had always made a rather grand production of Turkey Day and the tradition has continued.  It has also grown.  With the expanding family, it's no longer just my mother's siblings and my cousins.  Chatting with my step-brother, we both remarked that it was now nearly impossible to point out the exact familial relationships.  There was no, "That's your cousin, so-and-so," or "Say hello to your great uncle what's-his-name."  We were all simply on a first name basis.  I suppose that's what happens when the dinner party reaches 50+.

The event was held in "The Cabana," the neighborhood recreation hall that is part of the community pool.  My mother and her husband Randy had helped to upgrade the building years back and, with all the improvements and the growing Thanksgiving attendance, shifted Thanksgiving from the home to the hall while I was back in NYC.  I still don't know how my Mom and Randy pulled off cooking for over 50 people, but they did it.  And in fantastic fashion. 

Mimi enjoyed the food.  I think she even got a bit of a "Turkey High." 

She finished off early, though, and then demanded her bottle.  Here she is sucking down some milk while mowing the tile.  Sumie, who had been on call, sneaked in shortly after this picture was taken.  I wish that I could have gotten Mimi's reaction.  For Mimi, Mama showing up was definitely the highlight of the day.

There were three highlights for me this Thanksgiving.  First off, it was wonderful to finally connect with my cousins again, after so many years on the east coast.  I'm not sure why it had been so hard to do so before, but this familiar family gathering - a shared experience for all of us going back even further than we can remember - made it happen.  Secondly, this was Mimi's first Thanksgiving with my side of the family.  And she did pretty much the same thing I would've done at her age in the past: play with cousins, eat a little, and make a mess. 

Lastly, there was nothing more entertaining that evening than watching Mimi, along with the rest of the little-girl-cousins, play horseshoes with her great Uncle George. 

Mimi was particularly adept at the game - partially because she owns it, partially because she'd been practicing, but mostly because she cheated.  Mimi found that setting horseshoes down was far more accurate than throwing them.  Here she is celebrating her victory. 

She was so excited, in fact, that she had to run over and tell her Mama all about it.  I wonder if there's a professional horseshoe league.  Ah, I see that there is.  The NHPA (National Horseshoe Pitchers Association).  Thank you, Google.  (Oh, by the way, "Google" is one of Mimi's new words.  I doubt that would've happened ten years ago). 

By the time we got home from Thanksgiving we were exhausted.  But there was no rest for the wicked.  Friday was still a work day for Sumie and I, refusing to brave Black Friday with a manic toddler, despite the deals, became captain domestic and tackled the laundry, shopping, and cleaning. 

And so it is that we find ourselves on this sunny Saturday refusing to go outside, or even get off the couch.  Sumie is contemplating a run to Ikea this afternoon, but I'm not sure if it will happen.  Shifting my reading from the bed to the living room this morning has already taken a lot out of me.  And then Sumie asked me to take her phone into the kitchen to charge it.  That resulted in at least 20 full yards of walking. 

No matter what we do this afternoon, we've all earned a little rest.  So, as soon as I sign off, I'm going back to my book and back to bed.  Sometimes, despite the sunshine and the shopping, that's what Saturdays are all about. 

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.