FFFA: California Academy of Sciences

So there's a thing about Grady the Gus. You must never (ever) decide that he is just going to love something. No matter how much you know he is, just don't do it. It could be silver-star shoes, a delicious sauce, or leggings with an amazing green-dog print... All of those things are, empirically, GREAT, and RIGHT IN GRADY'S WHEELHOUSE. But the minute you convince yourself that Grady is just going to love them, you have ensured that you will be soundly rejected. You really have to keep your expectations low. And I am someone who really likes to embrace and revel in my high expectations. I mean, I really thrive in a state of optimistic anticipation. It's when I'm at my best. So Grady is having to teach me this lesson lots of times. He probably wonders if I will ever learn this one at all.

A few weeks ago, we headed into the city on a chilly, foggy morning, to see the fish (and maybe some other stuff) at the Cal Academy. And Grady was just going to love it, you wait and see...

He liked the steps and such in Golden Gate Park.

And he liked the sharks and rays on the main level, including their porthole.

But the adorable and hilarious penguins and the giant tanks of coral reefs and colorful fish? They made him sort of worried.

He humored us by looking at a few things. And we had a nice nursing sesh in the coral reef viewing gallery, in an attempt to convince him that he LOVED IT THERE. IT'S SO OBVIOUS THAT THIS IS YOUR JAM, GRADY.

But really he preferred the gift shop, and trying to climb a giraffe display.

Oh, and the best part? Running around in an open gallery, ignoring the exhibit, throwing himself on the ground, and climbing on a chair. Oh, and eating snacks. Natch.

Chapter next

I returned to work a couple weeks ago. Which is part of my excuse for the lack of blogginess. Or maybe it's my whole excuse. As the end of my maternity leave approached, I found myself feeling selfish. Wanting to soak up every second with Baby Grady, without sharing with anyone. Once I was back at work, well, you know, the usual. Time, no time, so busy, and etc.

So, work! Not as bad as I thought it would be. For a month or so before I went back, I would cry every time I thought about it. The thought of being away from Grady gave me one of those deep, dark aches where emotional pain becomes physical and the whole idea just filled me with NO.

After discussing it with Grady's daddy, we agreed that my job was a good thing to hold onto. Low stress, good pay, fantastic benefits, job security, and they were letting me go part-time. But we also agreed that if I sobbed every day, I would quit. I returned to work not really knowing whether I would indeed sob every day. It seemed entirely possible.

Then, I didn't. The first day was HARD. I could feel the tears building heavily right behind my eyeballs for much of the day. And one poor co-worker -- I could not talk to her without getting melty. She was just so kind and understanding that she made me fall apart. But then I had a day off. And the second day was less hard. On the third day, Baby Grady was just home with Jasper, and that really wasn't hard at all. And thus I survived my first week.

Astonishingly, my brain enjoyed spending time in the grown-up world. And I could go the whole day without changing my shirt. And I could use both my arms any old time I wanted. And I meet my neighbors at the bus stop in the morning. (I really like meeting my neighbors and somehow it seems harder than it should be to pull it off.) I found that in reasonable doses, all of these things were appealing to me. And I was as shocked as you are.

And because it would be rude not to include baby pictures in my first post since forever, here you go. (And yes, those are teeth!)