Nothing

2.4.07

Today I enjoyed nothing much. Sitting in the back yard with the wacky 86 degree LA winter sun on my legs, watching Hanah do her "air bending" routine on the trampoline, I was aware of these little moments in time that add up to the word: "happiness." For some reason she decided it was Mommy Day and gave me feet massages and a Cranberry slushy that she made. Delicious.

At the skateboard park Noah's beaming face as he witnessed some 360 move in awe made me wonder where 10 years have gone. His profile is that of a little man in the making now. He is often serious, always thoughtful, careful and in need of predictable routines. But this year, he has also become well mannered, considerate and helpful and prone to bouts of humor.

Life feels very full of not very much lately. Trotting the kids around, work, excerize, cooking, cleaning, writing, dancing, practicing and day dreaming. Nothing much to write home about if I were, but there feels an urgency to be moving on in some way, to catch up before my kids do. Perhaps it is playing the flute with Noah as he plays teh clarinet and joining Hanah with the cello that makes me aware of how much and how fast they learn. Noah can now cook a well balanced dinner and Hanah stuck her hand inside the raw chicken tonight, correctly naming all the interior parts she could feel with her fingers. Despite claiming to hate Mexico and Spain and spanish, Noah spontaneoulsy comes up with spanish questions and sentances, trying to figure out this new language. Hanah submits captions to the New Yorker cartoon competitions.

No awards granted. No competitions won. No blue ribbons on their walls. Just the normal leaps and bounds of childhood as I struggle to keep one step ahead. They sleep and eat and play and study and put away laundry and argue and talk back and hug and cajole. It is Normalcy 101 yet feels like the best of times. I may not achieve much more in life than raising well two human beings and while women's libbers led me to believe I could do it all. I know better now.

Nothing, when draped in sunshine and scented with crushed pink pepper corns and newly mown grass, when sound-tracked by a flamenco guitar or the squeals of sibling rivalry, when highlit by the smile of stranger and the hug of a loved one and when chased by a glass of nice wine and a piece of 70% dark cocolate, well that's something isn't it?

Sightings

2.2.07

A man on a bicycle in lime green Bermuda short, suit jacket, knee highs, his oxford shirt flapping as he pedals down Santa Monica Boulevard.

The Guatemalan Mammography tech who laughs sweetly at my admission that I smoke 2 cigarettes (not packs) a week.

The Kenyan receptionist at the Kaiser Lab with a warmth to her lacking in her peers.

The strange Don Quixote like man who haunts Whole Foods with his bag full of spices as he enjoys lunch at his table.

The Ethiopian looking parking attendant who tells me that my smile has made his weekend.

The many Russian taxi drivers lined up waiting for work on the street outside the kids school, hiding tampered meters that up fares by 20%.

An English voiced gent requesting something from the cashier at Trader Joe's.

The Persian phlebotomist with steaked blonde hair and the Philipino colleague who wont' stop looking at me.

A French mother at school discussing pillows in her children's room with someone on the phone.

Koreans, Hispanics, African Americans, multi-colored faces in teh waiting room at Kaiser. I am surrounded by immigrants in this land of Good 'n Plenty. And a smile is a smile is a smile.