Kristen's comment to my last post reminded me that, for a while now, I've wanted to write about expectations: you know, those critters that look cute and harmless, but can really turn nasty if you let them. Last weekend we took our expectations to the zoo, where we left them, damp and crumpled, under a pile of elephant poo. By which I mean that Isaac did NOT have a good time, whether because of the heat, a bout of four-year-old cussedness, or the buzz and unfamiliarity of the place. Who knows? And it doesn't really matter, because the "big fun" places (anyplace that costs more than $20 to get in and/or ends in "land") rarely work for us: too noisy, too loud, too much. But we still find many, many ways to have fun. But it's mostly when we don't plan; when we let serendipity take its course, and then, as it happens, fun finds us.
This afternoon I took Isaac to lunch at our very favorite pizza restaurant. I called ahead and ordered a pie to go, and when we got there the place was jammed with 20-somethings, plus a crew of hipster parents enjoying a pie with their similarly hip-looking kids. We stood in the cramped doorway listening to fairly loud hip-hop while we waited for our pie to finish baking. And you know what? I began to sway a bit, and Isaac swayed along with me, and soon we were sort-of-dancing along to the music. And then Isaac caught a glimpse of us in the mirror on the opposite wall, and turned and gave me a look of such delight and love that I vowed on the spot to exorcise those $#!@#% expectations forever. I am not so delusional to think that's actually possible, but I try, my friends, I do try.
Finally the pie was ready, and we took it, and a nice big cup of milk, outside. We sat on the wooden bench and munched while we people-watched: a parade of dogs and their people, kids and their parents, and a glorious rainbow of haircuts, colors and tattoos on young and old alike. It was our city, and it was heaven.
Later, I dropped Isaac off with J. for a few hours and went in search of my long-lost mojo. I treated myself to a frozen yogurt, a pedicure, a summery lip gloss and a pair of jeans, and, by the end of the afternoon, I am happy to say, I felt sort of like a girl again.
Amen, sister.
Posted by: kristen | July 09, 2007 at 06:44 AM
If you find your long lost mojo can I borrow some? Boy, sounds like a pretty wonderful day w/Isaac. Gotta love spontaneity!
Posted by: Niksmom | July 09, 2007 at 07:36 AM
Oh do I recognize these feelings, boy do I recognize them. For a long time, I wished for a simple meal for the four of us, a dinner out. Our service coordinator suggested going early, before the crowds. What a magical concept! We tried lunch and it worked, some behavorial stuff from Evan while he tested the waters: he didn't want to be in the restaurant, were we going to give in? Nope. Did we ignore the stares of others when he started acting out? Yep. Did my husband get massively uncomfortable? Yes. But I held my ground, ate my noodles and thanked the heavens for the patience all around us.
Since then I can't say we've repeated the experiment, but I find the rhythm of wanting, then asking, then waiting to be the one that works for me.
And I hate crowds, so rather than a trip to the zoo or Disneyland, all I really want is to sit on a bench with my son and eat some pizza. I'm really glad you had this moment. Thank you for sharing it.
Posted by: Vicki Forman | July 10, 2007 at 08:27 AM