Spring is in the air, literally. A thin haze of verdant green pollen has settled on everything. At first I thought the rain had washed some of the yellow paint from our house but no, that's pollen coating the porch. We came back from our outing yesterday with the stroller and shoes coated in green. The babe and I went to the art museum (oh thank god for the Nasher, thank god, always something interesting, right now the portraits of Barkley L. Hendricks and in their new works, the parking lot series by Ed Ruscha which I just loved. Also pondered the future of the portrait via a piece called Snow Owls which were three flat screen tvs with what looked like paintings of owls but were video of their subject that moved and had a soundtrack - will the modern portrait move and have the subjects voice embedded in it? Portraiture 2.0. anyway...) after the art gallery we cut through the botanical gardens and it was full of tulips and blossoms and the ponds are full again so we had our first picnic on a grassy slope. sometimes being a stay at home Mom (mostly when we don't have to stay at home I guess) isn't so bad. It helps that she is in a super content phase, very quiet and extremely focussed on her feet and grabbing them. Repeatedly. While I read. In the book "Let the Baby Drive" which espoused a parenting theory of "baby knows best" (to which I do not subscribe) the author questioned what a "good baby" was - was a good baby just a convenient baby, one who behaved the way we wanted it to and was quiet and slept well? Um yes, YES was my first thought. I guess I'm crushing her spirit with hoping she will sleep through the night, which she does reliably and deeply and lord of the babies whoever you are, I am so so grateful - So when she's having a fuss-free day I make sure to tell her Dad that "Simone was very convenient today." I think my Mom is a tad disappointed because she had 8 months of hell with me and always swore I would get my revenge with my own baby - nope. How convenient.
Pollen isn't the only thing drifting in a haze around here. The hormones have spoken and my hair is releasing the death grip pregnancy had on its roots. It's unbelievable how much hair is falling off my head, seriously. I read a blog description of this phenomenon as "the equivalent of finding a teacup Yorkie in your shower every morning" and truer words were never spoken. I need an army of Swiffer-bearing people traveling behind me at all times. Of course, after weeks of bitching and moaning about my terrible hair and how I needed it cut and finally finally making an appointment for Saturday - the resulting hairloss has made my hair look quite decent. Isn't that always way - what you wanted hovers on the horizon and hey, maybe the old way isn't so bad? Maybe it's better to stick with the old way after all? I could extend this haircut metaphor to life. There, I just did.
Uh oh, the baby is suddenly inconvenient. Later.