French Playdate

Inspired by our trip to France earlier this year and wanting to build on the language lessons Spencer receives on a weekly basis at L'Alliance Francaise, Spencer and I recently joined a French play group. Today we met at the home of one of the French mamas. It was so good for me to be surrounded by French speakers. My comprehension remains almost perfect although my speaking is far from that. It's nice to know that after so many years studying a language, I haven't lost it completely.

Spencer knows the alphabet, the colors and several numbers in French but does not yet speak any words or phrases. I'm hoping by being exposed to another language at such an early age, he learns the basics, at least enough to build upon later in life if he so chooses.

See Saw

Living with a toddler can be a bit like riding a see saw - one minute you're up, the next minute you're down depending upon how your toddler is feeling at that moment in time. It's a wild ride of toddler emotions.

Spencer, ordinarily a sweet, mellow soul, lately has been defiance personified. A specific sticking point seems to be washing hands before meals. At preschool, he will readily wash his hands before snack time and lunch but at home it's an entirely different story. The last few evenings, he has refused to wash his hands before dinner. Mike and I have tried a number of different tactics to encourage Spencer's cooperation but nothing seems to work. We've ended up sitting down to start dinner without him. Spencer only joins us when he's good and ready.

Last night we experienced the meltdown to end all meltdowns. Spencer absolutely, positively did not want his hair or his body washed last night. He just wanted to "swim" in the bath like a baby whale. We're not sure what triggered the tantrum only that neither one of us has ever seen him so worked up. He definitely wants to be in charge of all decisions these days. It was rather heartbreaking to watch.

When we're not trying to wash his hair or have him wash his hands, Spencer often tells us he loves us and gives us kisses. He still loves stories and playing pretend. His laugh is music to our ears. Just to hear it, makes everything else worthwhile. He's our one and only Spencer and happy or sad, we wouldn't trade a thing.

Go Fetch

Mike has always wanted a dog. I didn't realize how deep his desire ran until this morning when Spencer came up to me with a ball wanting to play fetch. Yes, Daddy has taught Spencer how to be Rover. I gamely threw the ball which Spencer promptly retrieved. "Can you say Good job doggie?" Spencer asks. Then he wanted a dog biscuit. Turns out Mike had been giving Spencer Earth's Best Alphabet Cookies, the ones reserved for special occasions/dessert, to Spencer as "doggie treats." All this before he goes to work for the day leaving Mommy to deal with the consequences. Thanks Daddy.

Baby Fat

I've reached the 15 week mark in my pregnancy. In layman's terms, that means I'm now in my fourth month. I'm also starting to show, only if you don't know I'm pregnant, I just look like I've been eating a few too many Dove ice cream bars for dessert (mmmm, delicious! And besides, the baby needs calcium, right?). I refer to this as the pudgy stage.

When I was expecting Spencer, I remember wanting to announce to everyone - strangers in the check-out line, folks in line at the bank, etc. - that yes, I was pregnant and not merely putting on a few pounds. A friend invited me to a pool party at a hotel. Somehow I managed to squeeze into a sun dress where the fabric stretched across my belly like the skin on a grape. I looked around at all the stylish women in bikinis sunning themselves by the pool and wished I could enlighten them as to why I was dressed the way I was and why I could not justify purchasing a maternity dress that I would wear exactly once. As if everyone was looking at me and silently judging. Those women were probably all worried about how they looked in their bathing suits.

The first time around, I was chomping at the bit to wear my newly purchased maternity clothes so I would look like a mom-to-be. Of course, by the end of my pregnancy I never wanted to see a single outfit again so sick was I of wearing the same thing day-in-and-day-out. This time I'm a bit more blithe. I'm still able to get away with wearing my low-waisted jeans, which I resisted purchasing for the longest time as I don't find them particularly flattering, but they've turned out to be surprising convenient for accommodating my expanding belly.

I'm trying to appreciate every moment of this pregnancy because I know this will be the last. I'm so incredibly lucky to have such an easy time of it. This in-between stage will soon pass and one day I'll look down and not be able to see my toes.

Spencer Holds Court

Two of Spencer's biggest admirers, Aunt Bobbi and Nana, came for a visit today. They kindly arranged to babysit so that Mike and I could go see a play at the Kirk Douglas Theatre. The first thing Spencer wanted to do was hear a story. Bobbi agreed to read. Little did she know that Spencer would choose a Richard Scary book, which contains many stories about day-to-day life in a place called Busytown. After the third tale, she wised up to Spencer's ruse and switched to another activity. Good thing she did because Spencer sometimes seems as if he could listen to stories all day long.



Nana stayed the night and spent all day Monday with us. He took the opportunity to play fetch, climb into the blocks and play butterfly.

Rashomon

Thursday night, Lydia and I attended the long-awaited screening of Akira Kurosawa's RASHOMON (1950) at the Academy. Prior to the screening, we had a chance to view a fantastic exhibit of Kurosawa's art -- his paintings, drawings, costume sketches, photos, and even the kimonos and samurai armour he designed. Almost all of the artworks had never been seen outside of Japan and they had never been seen together like this. Kurosawa was a classically-trained fine artist before he became a film-artist. The Academy exhibit certainly bears this out. The only thing that remained was to present our restoration of RASHOMON to bring back one of the director's masterpieces to the big screen.

Lydia had asked one of our stalwart baby-sitters, Carla, to look after Spencer while she joined me at the theater for this big event. Spencer seemed a little concerned at first but, after realizing Carla was interested in seeing all the toys he had in his room, was ready to say goodbye to Mommy and show off a bit.

Lydia arrived at the Academy, radiant as usual, and tried to remind me to eat something. I never eat at these things. I hate eating standing up as a general principle and at functions where someone is going to come up to me unexpectedly in particular. That moment always seems to be when I have a mouthful of salad, guaranteed. I only had one salad-moment, thankfully, and we went upstairs to watch the movie which, for this evening, was completely out of my hands.

RASHOMON is now in the vernacular as the definition of "unknowable truth." A priest, a woodcutter, and a commoner (or in some translations, "a thief") gather under the decaying Rashomon gate which led to the once splendid capital of Japan, Kyoto, ca. 1300 A.D. The woodcutter and the priest recount four different versions of the same encounter and attack in the woods between a samurai, his wife, and a bandit which led to the rape of the wife and, in wildly varying versions, the murder of the samurai. In the bandit's version, he kills the samurai. In the wife's version she(possibly) kills the samurai. In the samurai's version (told through a medium), he kills himself. And in the woodcutter's version, his "objective" version may tell us more (or less) about what actually happened in the forest grove.

At the conclusion of the screening, we headed home in separate cars. I got home first and had the first opportunity to hear Carla's version of the evening: Spencer was great. He loved showing her all of his toys and playing with them. He went through the bedtime routine and even helped Carla get everything right. At the end of the night, Carla said, he invited her to come back tomorrow. "We should play more with my toys Carla. Come back tomorrow Carla," was Carla's quote.

In the morning, Spencer woke up. He asked where Carla was. I told him that she had gone home at night, while he was asleep, when Mommy and Daddy had come home. Spencer frowned, "But she said she wanted to play with my toys in the morning. Where's Carla?"

Hmmm..."No, Spencer, you asked Carla to play with you, right?"

"No, Daddy! Carla wanted to play with my toys. In the morning. We couldn't play with everything in the toy box at night and so, so, so. She said she wanted to PLAY with me in the morning."

RASHOMON full circle: mercifully, the light-hearted, 2-year-old version.

Family Pizza

My grandmother used to make homemade pizza that, as I remember, was the most delicious pizza ever. Perhaps inspired by that memory, we decided to create our own pizza-making tradition at home tonight. Everyone pitched in. Spencer loved placing the toppings (pepperoni, mushrooms, bell peppers and olives) carefully across the crust making sure that even the furthest corners were covered. Waiting for the pizza to come out of the oven was the hardest part. But it turned out to be worth the wait. Our family pizza venture was a success!

Do You Know the Way to San Rafael?

I had to say goodbye to Spencer for the day to set off for the San Rafael Film Center, a gorgeous, restored 1938 neighborhood movie theater located in the heart of downtown San Rafael, a city in Marin County, California situated just over the Bay Bridge from San Francisco. I hadn't taken a road trip on my own since visiting my friend Alan Watson when he lived in New Mexico (in 199-...um, MANY years ago) and although it would be a roughly twelve-hour round-trip drive, it seemed easier and less expensive than flying and renting a car, plus it would give me a chance to decompress from the stressful final push to get the Archive's restoration of RASHOMON ready for its premiere this Thursday. Spencer was nonplussed when I told him that I wouldn't see him that evening because I'd be away. He told me he'd see me in the morning. Well, after he woke up from his nap on Saturday anyway.

While I was driving and listening to some mix CDs and old episodes of the NPR show THIS AMERICAN LIFE, Lydia was dropping Spencer off at his first French preschool class. There are only three or four other children in the class and it's all about fun...but in French. Spencer kissed his mama goodbye and was good to go. When she returned a couple hours later, Spencer was proudly displaying a picture of a train he had colored and his knowledge that the French word for "blue" is "bleu."

Lesson learned: the offramp for I580 is on the RIGHT (not the left, damn Magellan) and a lot of cars are in line to get on that particular freeway during Friday afternoon rush hour. After a long detour over a bridge I still can't quite name, I got snarled in traffic which seemed determined to try and impress a diehard Angeleno with its shittiness. No chance. L.A. still has the worst traffic in the U.S.

I checked into a small, 16-room neighborhood hotel with theme rooms. Mine was "Lady Chantrall's Boudoir." I was told the Jungle room was the best but it was booked. The best selling-point for the Panama Hotel was that it meant I didn't have to get back in the car: downtown was only a ten-minute (very pleasant) walk away.

The Rafael Theater was re-configured very elegantly for the 21st century. The balcony of the original 1938 theater was converted into two small screening rooms while the main floor of the original auditorium was restored to its 1938 appearance down to the original chandeliers.

It was a great place to watch LEAVE HER TO HEAVEN again. The audience was probably 100 - 125 people strong and they seemed to enjoy and roll with the movie very well. Although that's not hard: LEAVE HER TO HEAVEN stars Gene Tierney as an emotionally unbalanced woman who marries an unsuspecting writer, Cornel Wilde, and tries to eliminate anyone and everyone from their lives so she can have him all to herself. Murder, melodrama, and stunning Technicolor cinematography from master Director of Photography Leon Shamroy ensue.

Having done this a few times before, I was pleasantly suprised when nearly every audience member stuck around for a Q&A afterwards where we talked about Technicolor, digital film restoration, and the troubling fact that there is no such thing as "digital preservation." After about a half hour, our host ended the session but seven or eight die-hard cinephiles stuck around to talk for another half hour.

I'm glad I snapped the photo of the marquee when I did. By the time I came out of the theater, the signage had already been changed to Saturday night's feature, the Archive's restoration of William Wyler's 1958 epic Western, THE BIG COUNTRY. There was somebody else's name below the "introduced by." By 9am the next morning, I was already on my way back home.

All By Myself

Today was Spencer's first day of preschool entirely on his own. At breakfast he asked me, "Mama. Am I going to preschool by myself today?" I answered yes and proceeded to review with him what his schedule for the day would be like. Spencer began to stick out his bottom lip out and look sad. My heart melted. So hard to resist that look. "I want to stay home with you Mama," he says. Inside I'm quietly telling myself to stay strong when part of me wants nothing more than to wrap my arms around him and to keep him close all morning. Somehow I manage to distract him.

The moment we arrive at preschool, Spencer turns to me and says, "Bye!" So much for wanting to stay home. I'm pleased that he's so ready to start his day. I watch him make a beeline for the easels and get ready to paint while I sign him in and find a parent to watch over him in my absence. We say our goodbyes and I'm out the door.

Back at home I hardly know what to do with myself. Two whole hours in a quiet, empty house. I look at the newspaper, clean the kitchen, check email. Heavenly! I wonder what Spencer is up to. Before I know it, it's time to head out the door for pick up.

I find Spencer sitting at the lunch table with the rest of the children, eating a sandwich out of his Curious George lunchbox. Spencer did extremely well according to his teachers. He played with the other children, followed directions, listened at storytime. Even though he's one of the youngest, if not the youngest, children in class, Spencer's handling everything just fine. My baby is growing up!

Fun on the Merry-Go-Round

Merry-go-rounds must not be as popular as they once were because fewer playgrounds have them. One that does is Playa Vista park. Spencer saw the older kids spinning around and immediately wanted to join in. By join in I mean he wanted to push. The older kids wanted to go faster but acquiesced reluctantly when told by their parents to be respectful of the younger children. Eventually Spencer got on and delighted in sitting on the edge while lifting his feet up. Whee!

A Japanese Lunch

Today Spencer and I stopped at Mitsuya, a Japanese market not far from our house. Inside we discovered a video store, a bookstore, an appliance shop (Japanese toilet anyone?), four restaurants and a grocery store. It felt like we were back in Tokyo. We picked up some edamame and gyoza for lunch. Yum! I love discovering new treasures in a city I have called home for over a decade.

First Day of Preschool

This morning Mike and I walked Spencer to his very first day of preschool, a parent's cooperative nursery school in our neighborhood where the parents are expected to work one day a week. Today was my day to participate. It was nice knowing that Spencer wasn't going to be entirely on his own for orientation. He adjusted very well, especially considering that he was the youngest child by almost a year. The group consisted of six boys who ran circles around the place and one girl who mostly kept to herself. When school goes into full swing next week, there will be approximately thirty children in attendance. Spencer's favorite activities were dressing as a firefighter, playing with the wooden trains and storytime.

I wonder how everything will go next Tuesday when Spencer attends on his own with the full group. I know he's in a safe, imaginative environment where he is free to explore and learn through play. Emotionally I worry about leaving him to fend for himself but rationally I realize that this is all part of preparing him to leave the nest.

The Shirt Says It All

Yes, you read Spencer's t-shirt correctly. He's going to become a big brother sometime in March 2009. We're so excited to be expecting a new baby!

Our first doctor's appointment was this morning. During the ultrasound, we saw the baby's heartbeat for the first time. What a thrill! So far my pregnancy has progressed very smoothly, just like last time. No morning sickness, no cravings, knock on wood. This time around, instead of being surprised in the delivery room, we're going to find out the baby's gender. Stay tuned for updates in the months to come.