Get Paid

It’s not going to be a lot.

But it’s going to be something.

Two things.

First I got a raise at the beginning of the year, 5%, which is lovely, and will go into effect my next paycheck.

The amount that will show up on my actual paycheck is pretty small.

Still, anything is helpful.

And.

I applied to become an employee with Grateful Heart last night.

Currently I am what is called a “volunteer.”

I don’t get paid anything.

My clients pay me and I deposit that money into a one way account.

Grateful Heart administration is the only entity that can withdraw anything from it.

I can’t touch it.

I recently turned in my hours, client hours, and how much I took in, to the administrative team, which keeps tabs on all the therapists in the community and double checks the accounts against the reporting that is being done.

I am scrupulous with the money coming in and I have documented everything correctly.

The fastest a new Associate Marriage Family Therapist can become an employee with Grateful Heart is three months.

January 1st marked three months for me with the agency.

I applied on January 3rd after reporting my client hours and income for the month of December.  I have to do it once a month and as I noted, it gets matched against the bank account.

Their policy is that once a $1,000 prudent reserve is met and three months of income have been established a volunteer can apply to become an employee.

I should get approved pretty quick.

Fingers crossed, we have had some administrative changes recently, new hires, etc, I can’t believe it would take a lot of effort to look over my accounts and verify that I have what it takes to become an employee.

I am not bringing in heaps of money.

But.

I am bringing it in.

In fact.

Applying for the position actually showed me how much I have been doing in regards to establishing myself as a new therapist in the community.

In my first month I brought in $700.

In my second month, $1700.

Last month, $2400.

My rent gets taken out and a hefty ($350) administrative fee, the rest is left in my account, which has begun to actually accrue some funds.

I have more than met the prudent reserve and I have money that I could actually be collecting.

For myself.

Like real income.

They have a formula to help you figure out what you can take out without dipping below the reserve and also that I have to be paid the minimum wage for the hours I claim.

Minimum wage in San Francisco is $15 an hour.

So basically I will get paid slightly less than half my nanny wage.

Ugh.

But.

I will be able to increase that fairly quickly, I believe, and I will, once I become an employee, be able to get compensated for office costs.

I will also get reimbursed for my own therapy.

And that money will not be taxed or charged the 12.5% fee that Grateful Heart will also start taking as soon as I become an employee.

So, rent, administrative costs, and 12.5% goes to them and I get the rest.

It is not enough to live on by any means.

However.

It is more coming in and since my rent is a $1,000 more a month than it used to be.

(ugh)

It really will help.

Especially getting the money back from my own personal therapy.

It made me sort of chuckle when I thought about it.

I’m doing therapy to get therapy.

Heh.

I was required by my Master’s program to work with a licensed MFT and I could have dropped her and the therapy once my program ended, I worked with her for a year.

But.

It’s been helpful and I sense that it’s better for me to stay with it for a while yet.

It’s been very supportive of my transition with school, the PhD program, moving, old childhood trauma, family of origin issues, etc.

So, I’ll keep doing it and getting some money back to pay for it will feel really nice.

I’m feeling a lot of relief knowing that some more income will be coming in and it’s also a nice way to see that all these years of work is actually beginning to pay off.

Not a lot of pay off.

Yet.

But it will happen.

I had set an intention on my birthday last month that this would be my last year as a nanny.

I will have 25 full fee, weekly, seriously committed, wonderful clients who I get to help and empower by the end of this upcoming year.

25 is the number of clients most therapists aim for.

One could do more, but you court burn out.

It’s a lot of work to show up and be present for people and listen and reflect and use theory and trainings and bear witness to trauma.

Horrible trauma.

And it’s a great gift too.

I am a good therapist.

I really am and I am proud of the work I have done to get where I am.

I’m excited to help more people.

I’m happy that I have a career.

Not that having been a nanny hasn’t been a beautiful career, it just has an end and I feel it coming close.

I’ve been doing it for 12 years.

Amongst some other things, but mostly nannying.

Which is its own kind of therapy, when it’s done well, I believe.

I have been out to the parks a lot lately and I’ve been finding myself really judgmental.

I draw kids to me like flies, I literally had my little girl charge today (alone most of the day, three parks, Souvla for lunch, two toy stores for stickers, balloons, ice cream from BiRite Creamery with rainbow sprinkles) up at Dolores Park and at one point found myself surrounded by five little monkeys demanding snacks.

Friends of hers from her private school.

It was adorable and also intense.

Good thing I had packed extra snacks.

Kids love me and I them, but sometimes it becomes quite obvious when  a child isn’t getting their needs filled–emotional, physical, intellectual–and like a heat seeking missile they will go to someone who does.

That was me a lot today.

I just wanted to shout out, put down your Iphones and pay attention to your children!

But.

I didn’t.

And I’m glad I didn’t, it would have looked rather untoward.

If I’m honest too, my current family hired me because the mom remembered seeing me at the playground with a former set of charges and something similar happened.

She told me later that she realized I was a treasure and that she had been ecstatic when she found out I was going to be available.

Anyway.

Here’s to drawing clients to me like I drew children to me today.

I also have to say, when I really let myself acknowledge it, children are honest and if they like you it says a lot and if they trust you it says a lot too.

I was trusted a lot today at the parks, I got to be surrounded by much happy love.

Which is beautiful and I hope that I will in turn pass that along to the clients I get to see tomorrow, and all my days thereafter.

 

Exhausted

Although, I’m sure, as it so frequently happens, that once I am done writing I will feel not so tired at all, but today, was sure as shit, one hell of a tiring day.

The foggy grey morning was hard to get up to.

Feeling blue.

But up I did and out I went and oh snap.

Forgot the field trip adventure that the mom had planned for today.

The Ice Cream Museum.

Fuck.

Sugar overload.

So much sugar.

And so many photo opportunities for Instagram.

It was not a fun experience.

Well, the kids had fun.

I was rather appalled.

For the cost of the ticket and what was actually gotten it was a tourist trap for sure.

The kids had Pop Rocks, miniature ice cream cones, cotton candy, and mint chocolate chip mochi, and Ghiradelli chocolate squares.

It was a lot of crap for them.

And really when I thought about it we could have gone to the corner store-bought the same amount of candy and ice cream and saved about $75.

But, it wasn’t my money, and the kids were over the moon.

High as kites too.

We took them to the park that’s down town by the Children’s Creativity Museum afterward and let them run it out for a while.

But I have to say, by the time we got them back on BART and back to Glen Park, they were frazzled and peaked.

Fortunately for me.

Both of my clients cancelled.

Both!

That is super rare.

I do get a lot of cancellations, sliding scale sessions for $10 are easy to cancel on, the repercussion for not showing up is not really that bad.

Which is what happened today.

I took the opportunity to get myself to a church basement and get grounded and then do some needed grocery shopping before coming home and making myself a hot meal.

I will also say that the continued sadness around my break up and holding myself to the no contact boundary with my ex is emotionally exhausting.

When we were at the park something I saw deeply reminded me of him and I suddenly found myself crying.

No one saw it, but I was upset for losing it at work.

I just got off a phone call with my person and had it reiterated to me that I’m doing the hard work right now and that the sadness will pass and at some point there will be a stopping point.

It was also pointed out that the crying goes faster.

Meaning, I’m not losing it for as long as I was.

I noticed that last night when we met at Firewood and I was doing my check in.

I cried, I was sad, but it wasn’t head on the table sobbing like it was last week or the inability to stop crying at all the week before.

There is a lessening of it.

I miss him like crazy, I still am in it, but the horrifying sadness is leveling out a little bit.

I also had it pointed out that I will be soon leaving for my PhD intensive and that will distract me too.

Yes, yes it will, I am sure.

I have had some moments of anxiety about having taken on the further study, but over all I do have a very firm belief in myself that I will get through the program and before you know it I will have a doctoral degree.

There will be a lot of work.

But I am not incapable of doing it.

I also have more things to do to get ready for my upcoming transition to the private practice internship, but I am leaving that just slightly on the back burner.

I just need to focus on getting through these next days at work and since there probably will not be another outing, ever, to the Ice Cream Museum, it shouldn’t be as manic as it was today.

I’ll be in Pacifica before you know it and immersed in my program, getting to know my professors and the rest of the cohort.

Or any of the cohort, I haven’t met anyone yet.

I’m sure it will be a good distraction to from my feelings as I will have a room-mate at the intensive.

Fingers crossed she doesn’t snore.

Plus, it will be good to be out of the house for a little while.

The passive aggressiveness of the landlady is wearing.

I’m still very actively looking at places, but I’m not freaking out about not having found anything yet.

I even turned down a room-mate situation that ended up being a hilarious small world sort of joke.

I got word from a friend that someone she knew was looking for a long-term sublet for his room and it turns out that the person is the room-mate to a guy I dated briefly years ago.

Yeah.

Not going to live there.

But it was funny and gave me another opportunity to say no to a situation that would not work, despite the rent being really cheap.

Still holding firm that the perfect place is out there, that I can afford.

With parking, utilities included, hard wood floors, 1/4 of my monthly income, laundry on site, high ceilings, lots of light and windows, a full size kitchen, a bathtub.

It will happen.

It will.

 

Almost Over

The jet lag.

I forget that it takes a bit longer for me to adjust on the way back.

I was sitting at the park watching one of my charges swing and suddenly I got whacked with the tired’s.

I looked at my phone and realized it was 1 a.m. Paris time.

Of course.

I am still surprised that my body doesn’t adjust as fast as I think it will.

But I only had to take a look at the baby this morning as he fell asleep with his head down on the table, to see how powerful it is when we mess with our time clocks.

He was so sweet and out hard.

He didn’t wake up, although he fussed a little, when I removed him from the high chair and got him snuggled down for his nap.

I had a moment of wishing to just hold him and let him sleep against me, but the other two monkeys are with me full-time this week, school’s not yet back in for them, and it would have been too much to juggle a sleeping baby on me and two high energy kids on top of it.

As the case was, the little lady decided to help mom with chores and the eldest and I played Monopoly.

He’s really quite good for an 8-year-old, but he had a hard time with losing.

I didn’t rig it, I won, yes, I am that person, I am the person that will beat a kid at a game.

And not because I’m an asshole.

My mom was an asshole to me the first time I learned how to play Monopoly and was extremely competitive, she and her friends would have Monopoly parties that went on for hours and hours and days at a time.

They would leave the board set up in the kitchen and keep playing until there was a winner.

I was quite fascinated by it and at some point I learned how to play.

I learned how to be cut throat.

It wasn’t much fun.

Although the competitiveness of it was a kind of excitement that I had not experienced before that ramped me way up.

No.

I wasn’t trying to be an asshole, but I was trying to show him what it felt like to lose.

He’d rather win.

What kid wouldn’t?

But he’s also smart enough to know if I was throwing a game.

I have been tempted to before, he likes a couple of card games and he’ll get super upset if I win, but he also notices if I’m not playing with my all, so I just stay honest and play like I mean it.

Which is how I played the Monopoly today.

And he was good, not great, but good, and I could see that he was super into getting the money and collecting the properties and building the little houses and hotels up.

He was also expecting to win and a bit flabbergasted when he didn’t.

I told him how proud I was of him for figuring out big words, and for doing math problems and for playing as long as he did.

I also gently pointed out that there were things that he did super well, that he had ideas about how to make investments on his properties and figured out that he should put more houses on the properties that were landed on most often.

He was picking up strategy.

He didn’t much want to hear it, but I told him anyway, and when he realized that the person with all the money was the winner he went quite socialist on me and it was so sweet.

He decided to make up his own game where all the hotels became public housing and there were gardens and places people could go and get soup and be fed and it was so endearing to watch him draw it out on pieces of paper and talk about how having all the money wasn’t the most important thing.

I don’t know that he’s going to remember our game of Monopoly down the line, but it felt like a little victory, a win even though he’d lost, that he figured out that money wasn’t the most important thing.

It was probably pancakes.

He adores pancakes and I obliged this morning and made him breakfast (and lunch and dinner).

It was a lot of cooking today, but I don’t mind, I do like cooking for them and often I will make things I don’t myself eat, which is fine, I’m not tempted, it’s actually rather nice.

I used to love to bake before I got abstinent from sugar and flour, so it’s rather soothing and fun for me to cook for the family, I get the joy of making things that others enjoy and pancakes were definitely on that list.

So too, apple pie.

Which I will be making two of tomorrow.

I wasn’t expecting that, but dad’s got company coming over and a big request was made for my apple pie.

I don’t mind really, it’s nice, like I said to bake, and truth be told it does make my day go faster.

It will definitely eat up some time.

Which I’m all about on Fridays.

So despite the bit of jet lag, I am making it through.

One more day of work and then a very busy weekend.

I have an early interview on Saturday for a private practice internship, then a dentist appointment, then group supervision, a nail salon date for myself, a get together to do the deal, and then a late dinner with my person.

And Sunday will be full too.

But I’m not there yet.

One more day to go.

Thank God it’s almost Friday.

Back In It

Although the rest of the city was still pretty out of it.

Hence the parking just about everywhere and the fast commute to work this morning.

And my yoga teacher not showing up at class this morning.

I knew it was too good to be true that the day after Christmas my yoga studio would have the 7 a.m. class.

But it was on the schedule and I signed up, I went to bed early, got a good nights sleep and popped up and got into gear and walked the cold ass block, yeah, I know, a block, to the studio to see folks milling about waiting for the studio to open.

Not a good sign.

I waited until five after and just went back home.

I did unroll my mat and do some stretches and a tiny big of a flow.

Then I just said fuck it and got dressed in my clothes and did laundry.

A phone call with my best friend and some making plans for the end of the week and loads of writing.

Loads.

I think I wrote five or six pages this morning.

Helps shake the shit out of my head.

And then off to work.

I was met at the door by my little lady charge who announced we were going to go see Claude the crocodile at the Academy of Sciences.

Now.

Technically Claude is an alligator, but it really doesn’t matter to a five-year old, Claude the crocodile it is and it stays.

The fun thing about going was that after tense negotiations about taking the stroller, I’ve expressed to her that when she turned five we, meaning I, was going to retire the stroller.

It fucking kills my back, I’m too tall for it and she’s fine, but let’s be frank, who doesn’t want someone to push them around all day long whilst being fed snacks and cuddling stuffed toy dogs?

I mean.

It sounds fantastic to me.

But her mom actually tossed out a different idea, how about taking my car?

I was totally down.

Not having to take MUNI with a collapsible stroller is just fine with me.

I got our stuff together, threw a safety chair in the back seat, buckled her up and we were off to the Academy.

Which was, of course, slammed.

Out of town visitors, in town folks with kids who were out of school, but in the end, it was fine, we had a blast, they had the snow machine going and that was super sweet to get snowed on, my charge has never seen snow, we hung out by Claude and she ate Mr. Cheese O’s and asked about what Claude likes to eat, we meandered around, avoiding the crowds and finding little spots where we hadn’t explored before, the upstairs, the Living Roof, the archival area on the third floor, we drew sketches, and ate sushi in the cafeteria.

I love that my charge like sushi.

I do too.

After we had explored all there was to explore she asked if we could just go to the park.

The very nice thing about being a local is that I knew the perfect park to go to and I didn’t have to get in my car and drive anywhere.

There’s a little secluded park on the other side of the DeYoung Museum that you can’t really see from the road and that is basically accessible from that side via a tunnel.

You can kind of catch of glimpse of the park, if you know where to look, on the Fulton side, but it’s pretty much secluded and sweet and just enough off the tourist beat that it was just local neighborhood kids.

It was perfect and she was thrilled to play at a park she hadn’t been to before.

Then back to the car, over the hills and through the valleys back to Glen Park.

I made dinner for the family and was greeted with much happiness that I was cooking again in the kitchen.

I just got to say that it does me good that after three days of take out food and Christmas treats the family was super eager to eat my food.

It’s a very nice complement and I really enjoy doing the cooking.

Win/win.

I agreed to come in a little early tomorrow, not too early though, I’ve got a chiropractor appointment first at 8am., and help out with the baby so that the mom and dad can have a day out together, like a day date.

They have a weekend nanny/babysitter who helps them a lot and she’ll come in and take one of the older kids to the Creativity Museum, leaving me with the baby and one other charge to hang out with out the house.

I’m down with that.

I was hoping that I would just have the baby, but it didn’t seem like that was the way the discussion was going as I was leaving.

Doesn’t matter, either way, I show up, I do my job, and I do it well.

Then, after work, dinner with a friend from school who is visiting San Francisco with her family, and my evening commitment.

It looks like it’s going to be a nice day and I’m sure it will go by fast.

Tomorrow I’ll be on my scooter too, I just remembered that, too many places I need to be on a rather tight schedule.

But I think I’ll take my car again on Thursday, I’m becoming so fond of driving it, let me just say, that climbing into a car and going home from my internship, oh yeah, I had a client tonight, almost forgot about that, with heat on and music, is like the nicest thing.

So grateful for my little car.

So grateful for my life.

So grateful for everything.

All the things.

All of them.

Let The Wild Rumpus Begin!

The mom who hosts the nanny share I do Monday through Wednesday asked me how it was today, how specifically the other little boy was.

I had already downloaded all the pertinent information–nap time, poop, feeding, outings, etc, about her son.

I think she knew what my answer was going to be.

He was a little wild thing and the wild rumpus was all day long.

The older boy, who just turned two last week was a peach and slept a long two and a half hour nap and had a great lunch and was awesome at the park and my other little charge was his normal self.

The dare-devil, as his mom called him.

He is just now getting his walking on and he is absolutely fearless.

As I mentioned he only napped once and that was for 45 minutes.

NOT ENOUGH NAP TIME KID.

I felt like a wild rumpus by the end of the day.

It could have also been that it was my first day back after a really chill, very mellow and low-key weekend.

Monday, you bit me in the butt today.

I did have some lovely time with the boys though and the weather fairly screamed be outside and outside I was a lot of the day.

We went to the Golden Gate Play ground in the early part of the day and later we went to the library, where I dropped off a book, checked out a book, and contemplated staying for the children’s story time, but it was too nice outside.

I opted instead for the Panhandle and went off to ramble through the grass and play with bubbles instead.

I really did have a moment when I was blowing bubbles into the air and the sun was warm on me and the grass smelled sweet, the scattered tiny white daisies plump and white and yellow shining in the green and the boys were eating bunnies.

Crackers.

Not rabbits.

And I was like, is this real?

I am on a blanket, in the park with two handsome boys and the sun is just shining and wow, I am even getting paid for this.

Which did, in the end, balance out my day, after the littlest one declined to settle down for his afternoon nap and the wild rumpus got turned up to 11.

Sometimes I can look down my own nose at my job, I am just a minder, but really, I am on, on, on, unless both the boys are sleeping and when it happens it is amazing, but I am typically present.

Present and alert and on the move.

“Out of your mouth,” I said, oh, I don’t know, about 100 times today.

The little guy is still orally fixated with floor fuzz, dust bunnies, cat fur, cat food, cat liter, sand, rocks, twigs, all detritus that falls to the floor and can be swept into his maw before I can sweep up the floor.

But he is a pumpkin and I love him and it was good to have my boys.

The week looks super sunny and I plan on being out in it as much as possible.

The weather says in the mid to upper 70s for the next three days, and Wednesday, it’s forecasting 80?

Holy crow.

There will be much sun blocking to be had for me.

And for the boys.

I never wore sunblock as a kid and I cringe now when I see little red faces or arms or cheeks, I get on my sunblock soap box and want to parse it out at the park, but it’s not my business how other people care for their children.

I am fortunate that I get to do this for a job and I know it.

Even when I am sore and the house needs picking up and didn’t I just put that toy away two minutes ago?

Even when the wild rumpus is rumpus’ing about, I know that I am lucky and I love that I get to do this for work.

Despite the negative thought that tried to suck its way in between me and the day when I was blowing bubbles in the park.

“When are you going to grow up and get a real job?”

Random ass thought pops into my job.

Last time I checked, negative thought, I have a job, it’s this job and it’s paying the rent, which is pretty grown up if you ask me.

Just because it doesn’t look traditional, or come with heavy-handed accolades, does not mean it’s not a real job.

It’s a real fucking job.

Ask anyone who’s had a good nanny versus a crappy nanny, they’ll let you know.

Anyway, not sure who I am convincing, not really myself, I know what I do is hard and rewarding and challenging and it forces me to be fit and capable and to love.

Not that loving is a hard thing to do, but it can be, to allow myself to be silly to sing or dance or get goofy, I am allowed to take joy in my job.

Yup.

Thanks.

And I will all week-long.

Besides there are some little known beauty secrets that are really the key to my youthful appearance.

Spit up is a great skin conditioner.

Constant washing of hands keeps me from catching sick.

Laughing makes me younger.

Smiling makes me younger.

Dancing like no one is looking, except a fifteen month year old and a two-year old, makes for a youthful appearance, and certainly a light-hearted person.

Truly.

I have found the fountain of youth.

I might need to take a dip in it if it really gets up to 80 degrees this week.

And I will definitely need to get my rest to keep up with the wild rumpus and his sidekick.

But, at the end of the day.

I have no complaints.

Come on.

I blew bubbles for pay today.

How could I complain?

 

 

I Am So Glad To See You!

The music teacher today exclaimed when she saw me and gave me a great big hug and smile.

It was day one of a new session of Music Together class.

My Thursday girl and I had been in another class, before rainy season, and despite not always being into it, I did get into the class.

That’s sort of the point.

You, the adult, get into something, sing, dance, get silly, exaggerate, and they, the child, learn from your example.

I forget that not every nanny is created equal.

I am a good nanny, sometimes a great nanny, and I get into things.

I dance.

I sing, off-key often, but I do sing.

And I get silly.

I also smile, which is really where it’s at.

Smiling.

There was a set of very precocious twin two-year old little girls–brown eyes, brown hair stacked into little doll house buns on their heads, straight bang cut, long eyelashes–running about the room who had not taken the music class before and they were shy with every one, except their mom.

And me.

I had them crawling around my lap and playing tickle and peek-a-boo and dancing.

I don’t really think about it, it’s just what I do.

After music class my charge and I went up to the front to get the prerequisite hand stamp–today’s was a kitty cat with cymbals–and the teacher repeated herself.

“Seriously, I am so relieved you are back, the class is so much more fun to teach with you and A_____ in class.”  She stamped both of my charge’s little paws and I showed her the video I shot of the little girl singing You Are My Sunshine, while playing the miniature guitar she got for her second birthday.

It’s nice to get acknowledged.

I got a lot of acknowledgement today, actually.

I was stopped last week on the side-walk with A______ coming back from the park and asked if I was a nanny, the mom had seen me with my set of boys the day prior in another neighborhood and wanted to hire me.

Then, today, another mom in the park, Alamo Square, came up to me.

Her little boy actually threw himself at my legs and hugged me as I chased A_____ around the grass and giggled like a mad hyena.

The best acknowledgement, however, came from my charge at lunch today.

“Carmen and A_______,” she said and swayed back and forth in her high chair, then she smiled at me and it just was the best little look.

“Are awesome together,” I said, “high-five,” and she smacked my paw with her wee small hand and tilted her head at me.

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you too, A______, very, very much,” I responded, “want more apple?”

Yup.

Then she napped for two hours.

Thank you God for little girls who take two-hour naps.

Really.

I read 79 pages in a new book, flipped through the latest Vanity Fair, drank three cups of tea, checked my e-mails, and meditated.

I actually dozed off a little at the end of my meditation.

“Naptation” is my word for it.

It’s unbelievable when it happens and really wonderful.

Nannying is not all sunshine and naps and music class, there’s a lot to navigate, but I am constantly being reminded that I do it really well and that I am sought after and I get to get paid to do something that makes my heart swell up.

As my charge and I were walking up to the park after her two-hour nap, holding hands, pulling crackers, magically, out of my pocket, singing songs, and looking for butterflies, I was amazed again to have this little life in my hands.

I always get protective at intersections and I lifted her up in my arms and she told me that she loved me again and I responded in turn and I don’t even think about how I haven’t worked more than one day a week with this little girl for the last five months, and she loves me and I her.

I fell for her months ago and I have gotten the I love you months back to, but it’s always so good to hear.

Especially when they say it when you are leaving.

Most of the time the focus is on the parent who has just gotten home, as well it should be, but to hear it as I close the door to their home and haul my bike up on my shoulder to ride off into the Sunset, literally, I ride to the Sunset from work, I carries me forward through the wild rush hour traffic and into the next phase of my day.

“Bye Carmen, I love you.”

Not a bad way to end a day of work, I must say.

Tomorrow I have one little guy up in the Castro, then the weekend.

A weekend I was hoping would include a snuggle fest and some movies, but the schedule is not permitting–his and mine.

I may be waiting until next week.

So it goes.

Things aren’t always on my schedule or time line, but when they are supposed to be, they work out and I don’t have to fuck around and manipulate them to get the results I want.

I did have a wild hair of a moment trying to figure out how I could make Saturday work, but there is absolutely no getting out of the three different women I am meeting, one at noon, another at six p.m., another at 7p.m. and then my 8:30p.m. commitment.

Nope.

I get love there too and I can’t let that go.

The snuggle fest will happen.

More love will happen.

More happy will happen.

I just have to show up for what’s happening today and know that love, well, it’s everywhere I look.

I don’t have to make it happen at all.

I just get to show up and be me.

Silly, off-key, giggly, colorful me.

Authentic me.

 

Just Another Pretty Day

At the park.

And it was.

Gorgeous today.

Spring

All I wanted to do was be outside.

Out in the world, smelling the flowers and feeling the sunshine on my face.

Lucky for me, I often hold office hours at the park.

Two in particular that were just blow me away gorgeous–Golden Gate Park and Buena Vista Park.

I am really grateful to be within walking distance of both of these, as well as Kids Kingdom in the Panhandle–although it can be a chilly park as all the trees are old and provide a lot of shade.

I overheard this today–“what side of the street do you want to walk on?”

The response?

“The sunny side.”

There are micro-climates in the micro-climates.

The shady side is always cold and the sunny side is always warmer, always, the difference in temperature makes me laugh sometimes, but I often do find myself navigating over to the sunny side.  It will be the difference between wearing my sweatshirt and jean jacket or not at all.

This afternoon I was able to leave the jacket at the house.

I still brought the boys stuff with, an extra blanket, an extra pair of pants, little jackets and lots of snacks.

Snacks?

Did you say snacks?

Put them in my mouth!

Ever see the amount of birds that hang out at a playground?

Hysterical.

They wait for you to walk away, maybe put a baby in the swing, then flock to the stroller and pick out all the cracker crumbs from the carriage.

Makes me laugh every time.

I laughed a lot today.

I was in a good nanny mood.

Even when I arrived and my eldest charges was in grumpy cat mode, I still put on my happy Monday face.  And dance music.  Dance music always helps obliterate the Monday blues.

A little Beegees to get the feet moving while I looked for the appropriate feel good soundtrack to the day.

It ended up being a funk/soul/R&B compilation from the 70s.

Love.

Blasted some Hues Corporation, Rock the Boat, segued into Shuggie Otis, Strawberry Letter 23, then before you know it, time to walk out to the park.

We hit Golden Gate Children’s playground first, but most of the equipment was still wet from the heavy fog from last night and there was no going down slides.

Slides is what’s half the fun of going to the park.

Swings is the other.

The boys wore themselves out and before eleven thirty a.m. were down and having their first nap of the day.

The only nap of the day.

Foiled.

I had my fingers crossed that a second nap for the youngest was to be happening, but alas, no, he was wound up from having a gigantic poop and there was no going back once the magic nap window had been breached.

He was wired and stayed that way until just before mom came to pick him up.

The early nap though short, was sweet.

I dropped the hoods over their little sleepy faces and made a quick dash through the Whole Foods at Haight and Stanyan.

Although I did cook up a big pot of beans with rice and chicken, I still needed some apples to get me through, and my favorite lunch side, raw carrots with humus.

I do not know what it is about this, but raw carrots with sea salt and lemon humus is like the perfect snack.

Serious.

I was able to eat my raw carrots with humus and have a cup of tea before the little one woke up from his nap, and then feed him and get him changed into fresh pants before the older boy woke up and I got to repeat the process.

Diaper.

Feed.

Hydrate.

Sing.

Repeat.

Feed.

Push stroller.

Push swing.

Dig in sand box.

Laugh.

Repeat often.

Take ibuprofen from pushing stroller too exuberantly up to Buena Vista Park.

I love this park.

It is old school with bright primary colors and it’s secluded, off the beaten path, rarely used, and small, completely fenced in, the view is amazing, and, and, and, it sucks to push a double wide stroller up the last part of the hill, it is steep.

But the reward upon arriving is usually worth it.

It is frequently empty when we arrive and there are nice comfy benches for me to sit on and it’s small enough that I can actually sit down and let the boys wander on their own a little.

They can’t go too far, I can see a direct line of sight everywhere in the park space and I actually, amazing this, can sit for a minute or two.

Golden Gate Park Children’s Playground is gorgeous and fun and awesome and the boys love it, but I am constantly on, there’s so much happening, so many nooks and crannies and more than one play area, three sand boxes, two swing sets, a gigantic wave wall for amateur rock climbers, and huge expanses of lawn.

None of which is gated in.

I am on hyper alert most of the time.

Once the eldest disappeared behind the wave for a moment and when I turned he was completely out of my line of sight, I could feel the panic rise in my throat as I scooped up the little one from the sand box and galloped toward the edge of the sand box to crane my neck, and yes, there he was, right by the tortoise, but yikes.

That  is not a feeling I like to have.

No thank you.

I don’t know how often I will take them up to Buena Vista park, there is one other drawback from the hike up the hill, no bathrooms.

But today, it was perfect.

And they were happy.

And I was happy.

And if you’re happy and you know it, smile real big.

REAL BIG.

Yup, that’s what happy looks like.