"So Tell Me the Truth..."

What with my having had one foot in the grave for a week, the Bit getting sick immediately after and then deciding to push out double fangs, I've been unable to devote time to writing about my first Mother's Day. There are a few things I want to remember. Snippets in time. We'll start with Saturday, 13 May 2005:

It is the annual Mayfest at one of the Armenian churches in San Francisco. My great-grandfather was the second bodvelli (minister) of this church and my grandmother was a member. My mother considers it her church as well, though she only comes down from Petaluma for special events. But a few other family members are active in the congregation.

Every year my mother tries to get me to go to Mayfest, the church's pre-Mother's Day luncheon. Every year I weasel out regretfully decline. This year my mother got smart. Two weeks ago she phoned.

"I got us both tickets to the Mayfest. It starts promptly at noon. Be there half an hour early."

And she would remind me every few days.

"They have a highchair for Bit. I already paid for the tickets. Don't forget to leave plenty of time for traffic."

And we went. And it was lovely. I saw and spoke with women who grew up with my grandmother, who remembered my great-grandfather, who spoke fondly of my mother. I met the new bodvelli from Syria, a huge jovial teddy bear of a man with a black beard and a booming voice who swept Bit and I up in a hug as he greeted us with a mixture of Armenian and English. We were entertained by the children from the Armenian school from next door who serenaded us with a few Armenian songs and performed a Mother's Day skit, also in Armenian.

I surprised and pleased my mother by not wearing black. She is still talking about that.

But the highlight? Oh the highlight! It cannot and will not be topped anytime soon.

There was a woman at the next table named Hasmig, a 91 year old who didn't look a day over 70 (Armenians are notoriously long-lived. We are Methuselah's children. But that is another story). Hasmig leaned across the gap separating our tables to coo at Bit.

"She has blue eyes," Hasmig remarked. "That is so rare for an Armenian to have blue eyes."

She suddenly seemed to notice Arabis' hair for the first time, which made her gasp.

"Such blonde hair! And it is straight!" Her brow furrowed as she studied my face, then looked back at Bit.

Hasmig took me by the arm and pulled me to her conspiratorially, glancing left and right before whispering, "So tell me the truth...did you cheat on your husband?"

I couldn't help myself. The laugh burst forth so loud, causing a few women to look around.

"No, no, no," I sputtered. "He's not Armenian. He's Irish."

"Ahhhhh. Good. It's alright then."

"The tooth will set you free...

...but first, it will piss you off."

(What Gloria Steinem would've said if she had a teething baby.)

I was a bit premature yesterday in noting that the tooth on the right had come in. On closer examination, it has not. It is clearly visible through the gum but hasn't had the courage to show itself. Like a coward it continues to torment my poor baby from behind its gummy barricade and we can do little to defend ourselves.

She woke up flopping like a fish out of water at 1:19 AM and continued her semi-hysterical crying and babbling until 4:00 AM when I think she collapsed our of sheer exhaustion. I know I did. Yet at 7:00 o'clock she was wide awake and ready to start her day.

On the whole, we have had patches of good, but for the most part it has been a cranky and inconsolable day. Relief has only come in the form of cold teethers fresh from the refrigerator, Baby Orajel, damp washcloths to chew on and the pirate rubber duckie that Grandma brought over for her birthday (currently the preferred teether of choice).

As for me, I am fit for neither human companionship or consumption. I am hoping next weekend will be better, so we can venture out of our own private hell to join friends in offering sacrifices to the barbecue deities. There was also talk of alcohol and lemonade. I need some of that right about now.

Okay. Going to nap. I have no idea what I've just written, but off it goes anyway. Move along. Nothing to see here.

"Whenever you have eliminated the impossible,...

...whatever remains, however improbable, must be the tooth."

(With sincere apologies to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle)

As we carefully monitored the movements of the impending tooth in the upper right quadrant of Bit's mouth, a rogue tooth emerged on the left. After being shown up by its knavish sibling, the tooth on the right emerged a day later.

What amuses me about the whole thing is that they are not the two middle teeth but appear to be the two on either side. I have a deep suspicion that once these teeth fully emerge my girl will look like a vampire until the two middle ones decide to join the party.

Don't worry. Many photos will be taken once the fangs have fully descended.

Mojo is away for the entire weekend getting his geek on (translation: he's away at a gaming convention in Burlingame). Today the Bit and I lounged about the house, played on the floor, sorted laundry and took a luxuriously long nap together in the afternoon. She just sacked out a few minutes ago and I will follow her to the land of dreamy dreams soon.

We've got to try and get out of the house at some point this weekend. I've become such a shut-in.

Welcome

I will post in this forum at some point. But right now I'm so busy trying to get my head around the fact that my baby will be a year old in three weeks and trying to figure out how to toddler-proof the warehouse where we live. Currently, it most closely resembles Fibber McGee's closet.