Cold Spaghetti

In a world of senseless horror, aches of sadness leave me apathetic, weary, and weepy. We are finding our footing and working to get a sense of where and how to put these feelings into positive actions. The touching memories, flowers, and cards lovingly placed on Paul and Helen’s doorstop are one way the community is responding to the tragedy and incredible losses that have occurred. Other responses — memories, memorials, films, meetings — are also happening. A wonderful website has been made: www.helenhill.org — and is updated regularly.In our two trips to the Hill-Gailiunas home yesterday, we spoke to neighbors, roamed the streets, and commented on how much we liked this part of the Marigny. Artsy cafes, B&Bs, corner stores. Couples on the porch, waving hello, stopping to talk about their sadness, concerns for their community, and questioning the future of our city.I cannot imagine abandoning this city. We decided that we were not ready to leave and cannot even think of where we go. On Thursday, there is a March and Rally to City Hall. It starts at 11am at the Aquarium and will go downtown to City Hall from there. It is being organized (permits and legalities handled) by the Marigny/Bywater community — the NOLA forums (http://www.nola.com/forums/marigny/) have more information (look for the posts by Ken Foster). Additional information is at http://nolaagainstcrime.com/. Paul and I are doing our best to attend.

After taking photos at the Abeona Winter Formal two weeks ago, Paul and I went to Oak Street Cafe, our favorite local spot. While there, we visited with Helen Hill and her son, Francis. Francis attends Abeona; we got to know him and his parents (mom Helen and Dad, Paul Gailiunas) in the kids’ Sunday music class. Over breakfast at Oak Street, Helen gave me a photograph that she took of Will and Kate during a Music Together session. We talked about local photography resources, growing up in South Carolina, getting together for a “family” New Year’s Eve party with other Abeona parents, and laughed as Francis pointed to the Cafe counter, requesting donuts. When Charlie (the Oak Street pianist) sat down to play, Helen and Francis went over to the piano — and I took pictures of them.

We are just getting to know Helen and Paul. Paul is a physician and co-founder of a community clinic; Helen is an artist who grew up in Columbia, S.C. They are also musicians and involved in social activism efforts. Like the other families that make up our Abeona family, Helen, Paul, and Francis represent the kind of people that make us want to live in New Orleans. They are, like us, a family that has chosen to be here because they believe in the importance of making the world a better place and are willing to do the work that is required to see that happen.

The phone calls and emails reached us late this afternoon. From the Times-Picayune:

In the sixth New Orleans murder in less than 24 hours, a woman was killed and her husband shot in their home at about 5:30 a.m. Thursday, said New Orleans police, who found the bleeding husband kneeling at the door of the couple’s Faubourg Marigny home, holding their two-year-old son.

The toddler was not hurt; the husband, 35, underwent surgery at Elmwood/Charity Trauma Center, police said. The woman, 36, was pronounced dead at the scene. But friends identified the Marigny couple as Helen Hill, an animator and filmmaker, and Paul Gailiunas, a doctor.

We are feeling and thinking many things right now. But there is one thing that is important for us to get across.

Before you dismiss this grand tragedy and tremendous loss as a causality of living in New Orleans; before you blame the citizens, the local ‘leaders’, the corruption; before you resolve to forget this city and recommend its decay and elimination — remember that THIS IS OUR HOME. And it is important, vitality important, to all of us. New Orleans and its rebuilding should be a symbol of what our country stands for — that the suffering among us matter, that resources should not be saved for the needs of a privileged upper-class, that the incredible contributions of this city be celebrated.

PLEASE BE ACTIVE. GET ACTIVE. Make New Orleans matter in your life, because it does. HELP US. Help us build back a beautiful, strong, safe home.

Even before I became a parent I’d heard the advice: “Don’t push potty training. Wait until they are ready and it will happen overnight.” I devoted myself to this advice and allowed it to paint my parenting toilet-training fantasy… In it, Will gently, softly enters our room in the soft glow of morning light (ie: after 8am) and pleasantly announces: “Good morning, Mother. Good morning, Father. I would like to tell you that as of today, in this very moment, I no longer require a diaper. I will use the toilet without fail each and every time from now on. And I will never forget to wash my hands afterwards.” It’s really a great dream, especially because he makes this wonderful announcement while serving us breakfast in bed. (When I dream, I dream BIG.)

Will is now three and ready for potty training. And I’m learning that it is not so easy.Will has been telling us he’s ready for underwear for weeks. He’s asked for underwear. Dug undies out of his drawer and undressed himself to put on underwear. Sat on the toilet for half an hour waiting to do something so that he could show he was ready for underwear. Begged and pleaded for those cute little underpants! Will could not have cared less about saying goodbye to Pampers… Paul and I were the ones freaking out. It was a great surprise to realize how important an absorbent core was to our daily lives. We couldn’t say goodbye, just taking it away was too much, too soon. We needed time, we weren’t ready. We rationalized it in so many ways: he was still wetting the diaper; it was the holidays; what if he has an accident on my Mom’s rug(!); we have to take a ride in the car today… and more. There are so many excuses.

Finally, after some advice and support from our knowledgeable Abeona teachers, we gained the courage to try. So, for the past three weeks, we’ve tried a variety of suggested strategies… Will running around nude, Will wearing underwear for short time frames, Will wearing both underwear with a diaper or pull-up over (to reduce mess), and finally, Will sporting nothing but the undies.

It has not been that bad… so far. Will is very good at identifying when he has to make a bowel movement. We’ve had two accidents of this type. The other stuff, “tinkle” in our household lingo, is still a challenge for The Little Man.
Yesterday was the Big Day. As of yesterday, we’ve got an undies-only 3-year old. This was a really big day for Will. In addition to wearing his pirate underwear (could there be any other kind?), this was also his first time staying a full day at school (until 3ish). He did pretty well. Three accidents at school… but zero at home. Today was much improved. One accident before leaving for school this morning (possibly two, but Will claims he spilled some milk from his cereal), one accident at school, and one accident in the waiting room at the doctor’s office this afternoon. Pretty decent. He still sleeps with a diaper at night, I figure we’ll keep the night pull-up or diaper for awhile… this is a tough one for little guys from what I understand.

So goes our first foray into potty training. I would LOVE suggestions and insight from anyone reading who has successfully potty trained a child… especially a boy!

Remember all those posts about the pocket doors we’ve been restoring on and off since before Katrina? There’s been another development to the saga.

Paul was set to finish them last summer while I was in Mobile awaiting Kate’s arrival. He took apart the wall, repaired the brackets, and hung the doors (after having them all dipped to remove the paint that coated them). Once hung, it was obvious that one of the doors was seriously warped… so much so that the wall would have had to open a foot or more to accommodate the curve in that 100-year old beautifully carved 9′ cypress giant. Progress on the doors came to a halt.

We tried several months of pressure with water cooler bottles (10 or more for a good 8 weeks), nothing. It was clear that the door would need to be steam pressed, a process where the wood is soaked, bent, and dried into an appropriate shape. Unfortunately, the place that used to do that kind of delicate and difficult work does not exist post-Katrina. So…. we hung the door and have let it sit while we looked into other options.

Out of nowhere, I found a post on Craigslist about a local woodworker who mentioned specializing in old doors and facades. I emailed him and Bingo! He can do it! Ready for the price? $650 — includes stain and poly. A bargain considering that the estimate to rebuild a similar door was $2,025.

See those lights behind her head?
The day after Christmas, we bought a Christmas Tree… a 9′ Pre-Lit Balsam Hill Blue Spruce on super-big-time-post-Christmas SALE. It was on our doorstep when we returned home. Wanting to try it out, I asked Paul to set it up while he watched the kids in the front room (I was busy with laundry and unpacking in the back). Before moving from Michigan, we had my parents old 9′ tree… NOT Pre-Lit. As the primary tree-putter-upper in the family, to me the Balsam Hill assembly looked like a dream. You simply put the center pole in place, the branches fall down, and you plug it in… walla! Paul was frustrated with a few details, but in the end agreed that the tree was easy to assemble, beautiful (even without our fluffing the branches), sturdy, and not coming down for a least 3 days. I’d have to change out the camera lens to get the full tree, so no big tree pictures until it’s back up and fully decorated next year (not comfortable changing out the lens on a whim — what if I break it?!)

A photography aside… I’m more comfortable with using AV to play with aperture. But for some reason, when I shoot in Aperture View, the ISO goes up to 1600 for many of the photos! I’m guessing it has something to do with light, but not sure how to control it just yet. Learning…

Driving in the car, kids asleep. We’re causally talking, reminiscing about things like when “Star Wars” was called “Star Wars” and not “A New Hope.” Suddenly, Will’s head snaps up, hair tussled from sleep, his voice breaking through our conversation:

“I was…I was…I was…I was…” he repeats over and over. “I was…I was…I was…”

“Dear, I think the record is broken.“

“I was…I was…I was…I was…”

“Will, what were you? What are you trying to say, honey?“

“I was…I was…I was…” pause. Then slowly, “…digging up shells in the park.” Silence. I look to Paul, curious.

Paul explains: “It was muddy in the park and Will found shells that the rain washed up.”

Turning to Will, showing my interest, “Oh, I see. What color were the shells, Will?”

Silence. Will is starring, eyes half open, out the window. He’s still, almost asleep, as if his explosion of stutters had never happened. The car is quiet again.

“Okay… I think The Little Man is out again.” Shaking my head to Paul, “That was interesting.”

“Yep. Proof that the mouth wakes up before the brain.”

Mobile is the home to the Gulf Coast Exploreum, a science center with exhibits, toddler play area, and seriously awesome IMAX dome theatre. I love IMAX dome theatres.On Friday, we all visited the Exploreum (hooray for memberships!) and enjoyed “Roving Mars” about the twin robots, Spirit and Opportunity, that landed on Mars in 2004. It was pretty darn incredible, both the film and the theatre. The kids did great. We knew that loud noises would not phase Kate; although I did almost take her from the theatre when she tried to engage the Rovers in chatty conversation near the end of the film. Will liked the rockets. The majority of the time at the Exploreum was spent in the Wharf — a fishing port complete with boat, lighthouse, and a sea of blue and green balls with lobsters, fish, and crab ready to be caught in nets and brought to market.
Kate enjoyed rolling around specially designed padded areas for crawler playtime. We hope to go back during our next visit to Mobile — a great place for kids to play.

“…Kate needs her teether…”

Out running errands with Mommy, with a stop at one of Mobile’s playparks.

– Just over 17 pounds.
– Full of goofy, squinting grins.
– Eating bananas, sweet potatoes, peaches, applesauce, and oatmeal and rice cereals.
– Calls me “Mama.”
– Crawls much faster than you think she can.
– Has absolutely no fear.
– Cruises while balancing on any and every object.
– Bites (hard!) while nursing. Then laughs. (Will would cry if I cried. Kate laughs.)
– Climbs.
– Is still a midnight rock-star.
– Adores her big brother.
– Giggles when tickled.