shiso mama

Hey, remember that design contest that I won at Apartment Therapy’s The Kitchn? Looks like they’re finally offering them for sale. They have a limited number, perhaps because they’ve since changed their name. I received a bundle of them some time ago — the sharp lines of cut-paper collage didn’t really translate that well to silkscreening (good to know) and the colors aren’t really right, but it’s still lots of fun to see something that I made out there in the world. If you’re interested, shoot them an email.

The to-do list, she is getting shorter. Here are some of the home projects we’ve been working on in recent weeks.

We bought this chair off craigslist for $20. It was an unfinished project that had been sitting in some guy’s family room for ages. It appeared for some time that the chair would suffer the same fate in our house, since I had originally intended to upholster some cushions as a present for F’s present. Last September. Or was it our anniversary? Last May? Well, it is finally finished, although now we’ve moved it into the baby’s room, and the fabric doesn’t exactly scream BABY or NURSERY to me. Oh well. We still need to refinish the wood, but at least it’s usable now, and that gives us ages more procrastination time.

Why does a person need to sew a laundry hamper, exactly? Hmm, it may be one of the great mysteries of the universe. But I did, and here it is. It velcros onto a wheeeled frame from Ikea (the Antonius, in case you were wondering), which is handy, since it feels like I do laundry just about every other day - Otis is just so dirty and by the end of the day, there’s usually the clothes he went to school in, and then the set they changed him into as well.

Remember how I mentioned I was hauling rocks in the backyard a while ago? Did you think I was kidding? Heck no, I really was hauling rocks, making a second makeshift vegetable plot to go with the more permanent one that F built for me last year, since I had all that excess pregnancy energy to burn. And the vegetables have really taken off! The tender ones like the mache have had to struggle a little more (since they require that a person be vigilant, and, you know, water them like every day or two) but the broccoli is absolutely ginormous! We’ve also planted radicchio, tomatoes, peas, corn, spinach, scallions and squash. I know virtually nothing about vegetable gardening - I’ve probably planted things too close together and have moved things repeatedly, but it’s been really fun to watch the progress.

Even more exciting, after more than two years in the house, we finally bit the bullet and hired some guys to come and do some of the big work in the backyard. They’re doing pathways, a patio, irrigation, the whole nine yards. It’s why you can see the mess all around the vegetable plot. It’s supremely satisfying to walk to the backyard at the end of the day, see the progress and know that it was accomplished by somebody else. It’s now a race to see whether they finish the yard first or I go into labor.

There are less than four weeks left to this pregnancy, not nearly enough time to get through the to-do list which grows each and every day. And as each day passes, I grow just a little more panicky that there are so many things that I will just not get to. Of course, I know that it’s not really about the list. After all, I hardly need to sew matching outfits for the baby and her cousin, nor should I really try to take one desperate attempt to rid our backyard of the rampant blackberry canes with a few sprays of Round-Up. But in some ways it seems like my only way of dealing with this impending birth. There doesn’t really seem to be any good way to truly prepare myself emotionally for the changes that are coming, but hanging a chandelier in our bedroom? Tricky, but definitely possible, and supremely satisfying once completed.

And I have to admit how scared I am about what’s about to happen. Not the birth itself, but what will come afterwards. I had such a hard time after I had Otis - it was 6 months before I really felt like a real person again, and much longer before I felt like myself. And while I know that I will always be a mom now, I was not prepared for how effortlessly mothering could consume the rest of my identity, especially since I don’t have a career that can otherwise define my role in the world and and no true end to my “maternity leave.” It was a real struggle to start being creative again, and I wasn’t even sure I had the discipline to carve time out for myself and to focus on my own work. It’s definitely not perfect now - I would love to work more hours and with more efficiency, and figure out how I want to take my work into a more public forum, but it definitely feels more like a workable balance between being mom, working at my paying job, and doing my own work.

But it’s been three years since we brought Otis home from the hospital. How long will it take this time? Otis is so independent now, and I can barely remember how entirely dependent he was on me for his survival. I imagine that it’ll be easier this time around; after all, we’re more experienced, less nervous parents now. It may be naive for me to believe so, but I think that Otis will adapt to his new sibling with ease and grace, as he has to almost all the changes we have thrown his way. But I expect that there are things that will be difficult which will take us by surprise. All of this feels so self-indulgent in many ways - after all, I have the luxury of having choices in terms of what kind of work I do, plus a great family support network that generously lavish their time and love on us, especially Otis, yet I’m focused on how I’ll feel about myself in six months… So, well, much easier to work on that to-do list. I’ll post some recent projects soon.

Ah, we are so looking forward to this weekend, despite the drizzles we had this afternoon.  F and I are heading to Napa for a luxurious evening at a fancy hotel for a last hurrah before the baby arrives.  We’re scheduled to eat here before we come back — can you believe I’m going to eat at a vegetarian restaurant that also has a yoga studio? wtf??!!  I swear Berkeley’s getting to me.  I just hope my cold gets better so that I can taste all that yumminess!

I’ve been tagged by Meg for a meme on seven random things about me.   I actually think I’ve done this one before.

1. Whenever I cook, I find it totally and completely impossible to cook for less than large, hungry crowd. But I absolutely detest eating leftovers and will avoid doing so at all costs.

2. My first life’s ambition was to be a waitress. My second life’s ambition was to be a Solid Gold dancer. I guess one out of two ain’t too bad.

3. I freak out if anyone touches my neck.

4.  F claims that I’m the most ticklish person alive, but that’s not related to the neck thing.

5.  I’m a control freak.

6.  I think my social skills are debilitatingly poor.

7.  I can’t for the life of me remember the last name of the last boyfriend I dated before F.

I just sent around a chain letter to pre-schoolers on Otis’s behalf, so I will refrain from doing the same to my adult friends.  Does anyone want to add their own 7 random facts?  Do it in the comments or link to yourself.

If I have to work in the garden, then so does Otis! He started out helping us shovel mulch fully clothed, by the way - with a double layer of t-shirts and a set of leg warmers on, as it was cold in the morning when we went out for our morning walk. But then he took off his shirt when he got hot (”like Baba,” after he gets hot working in the yard) and then I turned around and he was in the process of pulling his underwear off (uh, NOT like Baba, in case you were wondering). I managed to convince him to keep those on, at least, since there are so many places where mulch just doesn’t belong…

So I have officially passed the 30-week mark of my pregnancy. Ten (or hopefully at least seven) more weeks sounds like a long time in some ways, but especially when I think that I am at least three quarters of the way through my pregnancy, I know that it’ll pass so quickly. Which is making me feel a little panicky. I was just saying to F the other day that if the baby came today, or even tomorrow, we’d be screwed - we’re just not ready. Besides some diapers, the dresser, and a few random articles of clothing, it feels like we have not prepared much for the baby’s arrival. Not to mention I still feel pretty unprepared, emotionally, for the changes that are about to occur.

Then there’s the whole question of labor. When I gave birth to Otis, I didn’t go into the experience with very strong opinions about whether the birth would be natural or medicated; since I had no idea how labor would feel, I felt like I wanted to be as open as possible to the variety of choices out there and decide when the time came, and I was determined not to feel guilty about my choices. I ended up accepting pain medication and getting an epidural, and when all was said and done, I feel like I had made the right decisions.

But at some point, even before I got pregnant again, I started wondering more about natural birth. I heard stories from many of my friends, read about many others, and started becoming curious. My biggest question is why some women feel so strongly that this is the right decision for them, and I’m still not able to arrive at any satisfying answer. I know that there are concerns about whether drugs can affect the baby, and whether the drugs could lead to any medical interventions that would make for a more complicated birth. Women often feel empowered and their partners can feel more involved in the process.

But does this make natural birth the right decision for me this second time around? Like I said, I have no regrets about my first delivery, and my doctor suggests that this is the primary question I should be asking myself when making this decision. Although I did experience some regret and panic the moment the epidural took effect and I stopped feeling my legs, as I feared I would, I also believe that it ultimately helped me get through the last phase of my delivery. There was a time when the doctor and midwife started talking about c-section, and I think that the epidural enabled me to keep going and push that big-headed, surprisingly large baby out, even though it did lead to so many stitches that the staff lost count.

Will natural birth somehow make me feel different? I don’t think I’ll have regrets if this delivery goes the same way, but will I wonder what I missed out on?  Otis was almost 9 pounds, and I was barely able to keep any food down.  All evidence points to an equally large baby this time, particularly because I’ve been able to eat quite normally.  And although tons of women have birthed and will continue to birth large American babies, I have some fears and doubts about my ability to do it naturally.

So please, friends with babies, do me the kind favor of telling me why you chose to give birth the way you did, if you went in with a strong preference. I’ll probably go into this next delivery with some preferences and an open mind (and definitely not a doula or a midwife, besides anyone already on the staff), but I’d like to be able to think more comprehensively about this issue. Why was it important for you to go one way or the other? Any regrets? Would/did you make the same decision the next time(s) around? Let me know, particularly, if you willingly chose to approach your labors differently. Oh, and if you had a water birth, DEFINITELY let me know because even though I’d probably never do it myself, I’ve been totally obsessed with the idea of it ever since I saw a show about it years ago. If you’re shy, email me at shisomamaATgmailDOTcom.

1. Does this necklace make me look fat?

This was a birthday present from F and Otis. After some serious hinting that I saw some necklaces that I really liked at one of my favorite stores where I never buy anything (everything there requires dry cleaning! As I’m sure they know, since I always go and secretly rub my face against all their luxurious fabrics), F asked Otis which necklace he though they should buy me - a giraffe or an elephant, and he chose a giraffe. Otis was excited to be a part of the whole process, especially the secret keeping, although he did innocently ask me one day, “Mama, do you like giraffes or elephants? … or camels or kangaroos?” I would’ve interpreted his question as part of one of his usual animal-centric conversations, but F jumped in and said, “Hey, buddy, remember, we’re keeping a secret?” Otis likes to make sure that I’m wearing it every day.

2. It’s hot cross bun season! I’m on a quest to eat as many as I can get my sticky little hands on (I’ve tried 4 different bakeries so far, but it’s still early in the season so I have many more to go). I wonder if I would like them as much if they were available all-year round, and the answer if probably no. It reminds me that this is probably how we should our fruits and vegetables, too….

3. We bought our first piece of furniture for the baby’s room.

It’s in fantastic shape and fits perfectly in this space, although it means that we’ll have to move some of our artwork around. I’m now looking for a mobile (perhaps made of wood? or haha, maybe I’ll make something in all my spare time) to hang in this corner. I would be grateful if anyone had suggestions (nothing too baby-ish or representational, I think I’d like something more abstract)…

4. A serendipitous find:

I’ve been on the craigslist hunt for a used paper trimmer so that I don’t have to shlep all my paper to work and use their old, rusty contraption, but I just haven’t found the right one for the right price. And lo and behold, I happened upon one for $9 while I was looking for recycled art materials for work. Can’t beat that. In case you haven’t heard or haven’t been, East Bay Depot (in the East Bay here) and SCRAP (in SF) are fantastic resources for all kinds of great recycled materials, and I believe there are places like these in many big cities.

A quickie post with no pictures tonight, as my computer is down and I’ve stolen F’s computer away from him during precious work time to write.  I know I owe many of you emails, and I’m apologize, but it might have to wait until I get a new computer! 

Lately, there are times when Otis will suddenly yell at F, “Baba, you’re a PIG!”  F’s always taken aback, wondering what provoked such an outburst, and then will relax, remembering, Yes, yes, I was born in the year of the pig.  There’s been a lot of that going on lately, especially with the continuing obsession with the animals and arrival of the Lunar New Year.  “Mama, you’re a cow!” To which I respond, “Oh, yeah?  Well, you’re a chicken!”  How is it that we’re all born in years that can have such derogatory connotations when put in certain contexts?  Just wait, little Otis-ette will be born in the year of the rat. 

Tonight we celebrated Chinese New Year with Fifth Aunt Grandma K.  We made dumplings over the weekend, as is tradition in our family, and filled some of them with little hidden treasures - coins, peanuts, dates and rice cakes.  A coin in your dumpling means good fortune, peanuts mean long life, dates mean future offspring, and rice cakes mean that you’ll do well in your work and be promoted.  Although it’s good luck to find any of these treasures, there’s always a race to see who finds the most coins, and we gulp down our dumplings desperately, slowing down only after all the coins have been found. 

Otis is now old enough to fully participate in the race, and was really excited to look for treasures in his dumplings.  Fifth Aunt Grandma K held her breath, trying to pick a coined dumpling to give to Otis, and F and I could tell she was terribly disappointed to bite into one of her own dumplings and find a coin there, because she had felt quite sure that it could not possibly be one of the lucky ones.  From then on, she poked her chopstick into each dumpling before biting into it, in the process finding the last coin.  Excitedly, she said to Otis, “Hey, why don’t you try this one?” 

“No,” Otis said.  “I don’t want that one.”

“Uh, OK,” Fifth Aunt Grandma K replied, doing some quick thinking.  “Why don’t you pick your own then?” while quietly slipping the coined dumpling back onto the plate and spinning it around and around again, finally placing the one with the telltale chopstick hole in it directly in front of him.  “Which one do you want?”

“This one,” he said, reaching in, the wrong dumpling almost slipping into his hands, but for the quick thinking of Fifth Aunt Grandma K, who managed to trick him just in time.  We all called out in mock surprise and erupted in cheers when he finally found that coin.  It was great fun, and we all ended up with one coin each.  Otis has officially been inducted into one more of our family’s traditions. 

Now he is snuggled in his bed in our nice, clean house, wearing his new pajamas, with his New Year’s money tucked safely under his pillow (all musts for an auspicious year).  Tomorrow morning, on New Year’s Day, we will ring in the New Year with some deep-fried rice cakes.  Happy New Year, friends.  And remember not to sweep tomorrow, or your good luck will be swept right out the door! 

Here’s a shisomama first: a collaborative project between F and me! A little while back, F had this brilliant idea to create a fishing game for Otis. The kid adores sticks and always picks them up on our walks (he even has a bucket outside the door for them), and he often tells us he’s “fishing” with them. So hey, why not make him a game that enables him to wave long sticks around the breakable things INSIDE our house? It was fun working on a creative project together. Here’s what we did (Sorry for the poor quality of many of the pictures - it was relentlessly rainy while we were working this past weekend. Though I guess you could say it’s the perfect rainy day project.):

F bought two 3/8″ dowels (so that Otis could play his game with a friend) and used a hand saw and cut them down to about 28″ inches. Then he used his drill to make a small hole at one end.

On the other end, he used blue duct tape to create a “handle.” (You can also use bicycle handlebar tape, which comes in a variety of colors.) To make it look nice, he cut a circle out of duct tape and then notched it so that it would look streamlined when it was smoothed over the sides.

Then he cut a long strip of duct tape and wrapped the “handle” in one long piece.

To make the “fishing line” he ran a piece of embroidery floss through the hole that he drilled and tied a couple of knots to keep it in place.

At the end of the embroidery floss, he attached a small stack of 1/2″ magnets to create the “bait hook.” He covered them with duct tape as well, using the same notching method as the handle. On the top of the magnets, he slit the duct tape to the middle, to allow for a tidy look where he ran the embroidery floss. After taping the top and bottom, he trimmed a piece of duct tape to wrap around the sides as well.

For the fish, I drew a very basic fish pattern and cut it out in several different fabrics. I stitched them together, leaving a 1/8″ seam allowance and turned them inside out, with the tails open. In each fish, I inserted a 1/8″ x 1″ zinc washer (I chose the ones with the smallest holes to allow for more surface area for the magnets to adhere to).

I tacked the washers in place by stitching a french knot on both sides of the fish, where the eyes would be. (Here’s a great tutorial; I wrapped my floss around the needle 3 times rather than 2 to create a bigger “eye.)

I stuffed the fish and then stitched a decorative tail to close up the fish. You can be as plain or as fancy as you want, though I left them quite simple.

I decided to make a “fish pond” by cutting out a large circle out of my trusty Marimekko fabric (it’s about 21″ in diameter) and zigzagging it onto some nice, thick canvas. And here it is, finished!

We’ve been testing it out, and even with the stuffing, the fish can be caught quite easily by the magnet “hook.” It’s a challenging game that’ll take him a while to get the hang of, and we hope we enjoys it. We’ll be giving this to him as a birthday present, and it may sound like we’re super organized since his birthday is not until late March, but that’s only because we couldn’t get it together to give to him as a present from Santa Claus.

Hey, it just occurred to me that we’re totally this generation’s version of the granola parent - you know the parent who makes their own granola and sprouts when all the kids really want to eat is Twinkies. We’re forcing Otis to play our handmade game when probably all he wants is a Tickle Me Elmo. And unfortunately for him, I make my own granola as well.

Here’s a video of F and me, playing the game. I’m not making excuses here, but let me just remind you that I was holding the camera here:

Thanks, friends, for waiting patiently for the news.  We’ve known for a little while now, but we wanted to wait until our friends also had their ultrasound a week later to make our news public.  Maybe it’s silly, but somehow, I thought that my own reaction could or should be affected by the results of their ultrasound, since it feels to me like our pregnancies are so closely linked - two kids close in age, some of the same hopes and fears.  How could I feel ecstatic or depressed if they felt the opposite way?  Is that weird?
But anyways, you don’t care about that, so… dramatic drumroll, trumpets blaring: we’re having an Otis-ette.  In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s what we’re going to name her.   You guys like it?  Maybe Otis-ina is better?

I was so nervous and anxious the day of the ultrasound, having tortured myself for days, nay ages, that I couldn’t eat and I felt quite ill by the time we were sitting in the ultrasound room.  Then the tech inadvertently prolonged our torture by asking if we could tell the gender of the baby while we squinted and tried to differentiate between holes and pointy parts, so when she finally pronounced our baby a girl, I promptly burst into tears.  At which point our rather cheerful and chatty ultrasound tech grew rather quiet.

So yes, I feel relieved and now have the luxury of feeling apologetically embarrassed about my previous emotional outpouring and ever so slightly sad as I sift through all of Otis’s old clothes, deciding which to give away and which to keep (which I insist on doing even though F will not stop laughing at my pretense of setting the old clothes aside for the new baby to wear).  Most clothes will be given away (anyone living close by having a boy and doesn’t mind dressing him in tights?), some I’ve set aside to save for ever, and some I’ve set aside, thinking that I’d make a quilt for Otis (though the thought of cutting them up makes me cringe a little).

The weirdest part of this whole thing?  I suddenly am not finding pink as vomitous as I used to.