Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Frustrating Fajitas

Okay, so sometimes we'll try just about anything to get The Boy to eat. (He's the good sleeper, whereas Q fights sleep relentlessly; she eats, he stalls and avoids food.) My wife is especially good at coming up with ways to get him to take bites.

Recently, though, her strategy came back at her. We were having chicken fajitas, and though he really likes them, he started off very slowly (as usual) on his. He's a neat eater, however slow, and my wife saw an opening:
Mama: My fajita is all messy. Can you show me how you eat yours without spilling?
The Boy picks up his fajita and takes a big, proud bite without spilling even a sliver of onion.
Mama: That's great. Mine keeps spilling all over. Can you show me again?
The Boy again takes a clean bite, adding a little flourish as he puts it down.
Mama: I don't know how you do it. Look at my plate. Show me again how you do it without your fajita falling apart.
The Boy: Mama, I don't think that we should have fajitas anymore. They make you too frustrated.

Friday, August 04, 2006

Moving On and Up--In Style

No longer behind bars.

Today is my wife's last day at one of the best law firms in the world. She's been practicing her profession at its top, with and among its very best, for nine years. She made her way well despite the atmosphere of the place, which, like that of nearly all law firms, tends to select against women, minorities, and (perhaps most of all) mothers.

Being all three has been hard. She would take the kids in the morning after I head off to the train and to my students, and I take them from the babysitter when I return just before dinner. Each night she'd call after Q and The Boy had polished off noodles or strips of tortillas, and give a status report. Some nights she'd be on her way out the door, but just as many times I'd be putting them--and myself--to bed before she crept in. Work came on Friday afternoons and flooded the weekends; it pulled her out of town to Texas and to Idaho and to North Carolina. They put a lock on her office door for privacy when she pumped milk for both her children; they took it away the moment she retired the pump. They pitted her against her male coevals who either had no families or were free enough from them to always work--anytime and for any amount of time.

After all this, and she's changed so little. Wiser no doubt, a little more cynical about the law perhaps. And tired. Otherwise, though, she has survived with little scarring.

The time has come to leave on her own terms. After a week off, she'll begin showing up to a new, bigger office at a luxury clothing company that you've probably heard of.

I haven't written that much about her as such since I've started this little distraction. The kids are always doing remarkable things, which makes them easy to remark upon. And becoming often makes for a better story than simply being. Our lives often seem like the scenery in which their lives unfold.

This is her becoming. Congratulations, love.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Pictures from the past

My wife encouraged me to post all the graphics that have appeared at the top of the blog. You can find them here in the order that they appeared on the site. (Nearly all the pictures used for them--or anywhere else on the blog--were taken by her, by the way.)

I've also put a permanent link to the headers page on the side bar to the left.

Hope that you're keeping cool today.