New Skool

Griffin is going to "school" tomorrow. Wow. That was sudden.

We've often talked about wanting to get Griffin into a half-day, half-week sort of childcare or nanny share so I could finish my masters. Since Griffin was young and the Bay Area notorious for childcare hassles (i.e. you need to sign your baby up while you're trying to conceive,) we just relied on over-educated friends of my cousin, Cass. While I'm, thankfully, already finished with all my coursework, I still have to make up 25 days of student teaching and have a thesis to write.

Now we've moved to Willits, home of many deer and a few people. There is a new Montessori/Waldorf-based infant and toddler center opening five minutes away that is cute and very affordable. Everyone in town knows about everyone else and I have been hearing about it for weeks now. (I have yet to get tired of Willits' lack of options! The Bay Area could be mind-bogglingly wide-open.)

Tomorrow, Griffin's going to Learning Roots Toddler Center on Main Street, right across from the Mariposa Market to spend the morning with Tatiana and her crew. He will be one of seven 18-30 month olds who will comprise the Toddler Class. Today I wrote "Griffin O." on diaper packs, wipes and sippy cups. It was another of the sneaker parenting moments that make you catch your breath- writing my son's name on his things. Here is where it begins.

Since we don't have any pictures of Griffin at school yet, please enjoy these shots from the Laytonville Junior Rodeo. Yee-ha!

Since We've Been Home...

I came very close to slashing my aunt, Joell's, tires this morning as a ruse to keep her and Cindy at our house. I could have gotten away with it in Oakland, since a little auto-vandalism is par for the course, but here in Willits, it couldn't exactly be blamed on rebellious deer. In the end, I had to suck it up and be a big girl, and not clinging to my Mom's leg, begging her to stay and be our unpaid au-pair.

Against my better judgment, we let Cindy and Joell go to the Beach House and Jake and I had to become primary caregivers for our child once again.

Endearing New Trait #1: Baby Talk

I used to think "baby talk" was a really annoying habit of grown-ups and teenagers in love, but I just realized that the babies themselves are the ones who started it. Out of the blue, Griffin has begun adding a "-y" to the end of words. I promise you, we didn't start this. When he whacks his toe with his banging stick, he shrieks, "Toey! Toey!" He loves eating "chippys," talking on his "phony" and trolling night tables looking for the ultimate prize "balmy!" What can I say, the kid likes to moisturize.

Griffin's Summer Trip

Griffin kept busy while we were in Louisiana. He went swimming all the time- the child has no fear of water, likes going under and appears to think he's a capable swimmer. Griffin mud-painted himself in the O'Rear's front yard. The afternoon thundershowers are even better than I remember them and Griffin enjoyed plumbing the warm, wet mud and painting tribal designs on his face.


He caught up on his reading at the local mega-bookstore. They may be a depraved corporate monster, but, hey, they have a swell train table and a whole lot of Dora.


Griffin rode a gi-normous bunny with his Grammy (aka "Nami") at the illustrious Mall of Louisiana. He made his "Carousel Face" which appears to fall directly between "elated" and "about to puke."
Granny Lynn kept Griffin entertained by performing "Creepy Mousie" a record 57 times in a row.
We took Griffin to Louie's for his breakfast initiation. Cheese grits, biscuits and gravy and a deliciously dirty concoction called the Mitchell were made for us by a man some call "Big Ball Fred." You would have loved it.


Griffin used his french toast to call Sam and talk to him about Lilah. Unfortunately, Sam had turned down the ringer on his french toast and they had to catch up later via bacon texting

Grandma Cindy and Grandpa Wil made Griffin feel especially welcome in New Orleans.

Something about the situation unnerved the young lad.


The Potamus ate beignets in the Riverwalk while we waited for the Insectarium to open. Then he ate bugs at the Insectarium. Good boy.

Sure, I felt a little guilty, manipulating my son's trust and good eating habits to get him to eat toasted mealworms, but I ate several Crispy Cajun Crickets, myself. C'mon, people in many cultures consider nibbling larvae a delightful snack.


All of Griffin's NOLA Aunts and Uncles were thrilled to see him and partake of his youthful mayhem.


Eventually, he became too exuberant and tried to beat Aunt Katie with a bat. Fortunate is the boy who has four uncles, two aunts named "Kati(e)," another adoring aunt and three grandmas. It's true that Griffin is sadly short on Pop Pops, but he is still rich in relations.


Since Griffin didn't realize the gravity behind our trip home, he was able to become a gleeful, pint-sized bottle of Lexapro, bringing joy to all who encountered him. Well, everyone except maybe the lady who sat behind us on the plane.


We love you Pop Pop.

Griffin and Kati at Superior Grill

Griffin loves him some Aunt Kati.

Aunt Kati loves her some Griffin.