Posts from January, 2010
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i think having a baby is the new fat.
today, in the national american indian museum, a woman alone with five kids (yes, that’s “one-two-three-four-five”) looked at me in exasperation when she noticed sparklet was asleep, and blurted out “well that’s a great way for her to see the museum” while she rolled her eyes.
yesterday, in the american art museum, two women stopped us in the cafe and asked how sparklet was enjoying the museum. i smiled while i said that she was doing great in the large format landscapes, but seemed to start loosing interest (i.e. fall asleep) once we got into the American portraiture. she scoffed, barked “yeah, right” and then stomped off.
monday, a random guy on the street — looked like a typical D.C. community activist, business casual, with dreads held up in Jamaican rasta hat — called out to me, saying “great job, father! great job!” while he applauded. fwiw, i was crossing the street … and doing it *exceptionally* well.
but really, besides the random activist, the only reliably positive people experiences have been security guards and cafeteria workers, especially the ones that are 35+ year old women. they just light up when they see someone alone with a baby, and are elated to have 2 minutes with the sparklet.
biggest observation so far? don’t talk to white people.
so far, without exception, white people think your baby is either (a) in direct competition with their kid/grandkid or (b) their question for you is just a thinly-veiled ramp to help them launch into a 10 minute soliloquy about their own.
either way, from here on out i’m dropping them like their hot.
P.S. there is an interactive “our universe” exhibit on the fourth floor of the national museum of the american indian, which has a ceiling (see photo above) designed to look like the night sky. it is now officially baby sparklet’s favorite place on the planet.
so her stomach/sleep-cycle doesn’t leave much time for futzing about, but we have about two hours of wakey-wakey time in the noon-ish ’til two-ish period after lunch that we can squeeze something in … but that’s only if we “commute” during her 11am/2pm naps.
i wish i had some sort of noble intention by helping her “explore the world,” but i’m afraid it’s just my ridiculously short attention span trying to save me from clawing out my eyeballs out from daytime TV (regardless of the awesomeness that is Nash Bridges).
that said, sparklet is really digging getting out of the house.
she’s all about paintings in the museums we’ve hit, so long as they are large format (loves those enormous english/american landscapes) or large blocks of color (presumably because most contemporary pieces look like they could have been painted by someone her age).
sculpture is fine, though white marble holds her interest much better than dark stone/iron. once the pieces dip towards the smaller side, it’s game over … and her attention quickly shifts towards the nearest light source (windows, track lighting, etc).
speaking of, the big wins so-far have been the stuff that hasn’t been on display … the skylights in the smithsonian american art museum and the national gallery, the tunnel of LEDs in between the gallery’s east and west wings, and pretty much anything with stained glass.
i’m not sure what’s on-tap next … but for the first time in my life, i am choosing things to do based on whether there are cool things that light up.
we’re already embarrassed to talk about how well sparklet has been sleeping, but her being sick has added another couple of hours to the nightly tally. yesterday she had slept in so late that i went into the nursery to check that she was still alive.
i tip-toed in, leaned my head over the crib, listened to her chest … and she simultaneously kicked and punched me in the head.
i guess she’s decided she’s lloyd dobbler — doesn’t want a career where she sells anything bought or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, and is looking into kickboxing as the sport of the future.
(I don’t really know, i can’t figure it all out tonight, sir, so I’m just gonna hang with your daughter.)