Posted on April 25th, 2011
Today P and I went on a roaming adventure. We went for froyo. Then we walked to Park 1 where – while I pushed P on a swing for 45 minutes – I listened to two girls from the Emerson School discuss Harry Potter with more sophistication than I’ve heard at some adult book groups. (Incidentally, this is the school for which I’ll enter P into the charter school lottery in a few years.)
P turned to me while I pushed her, and said, “There are two teachers over there.” She was pointing across the playground, where two teachers watched the students. I agreed. She added, “And you’re a teacher. You’re a teacher-mom, Mama.”
As job titles go, I like it a lot better than most of my others.
It started raining, so we walked up and caught a streetcar, then took it down to the south waterfront. We had a snack at Daily Cafe, then bought a ticket for the tram (it’s for me, but P always holds it). She stood in one of the seats, and we liked it even better than normal – the winds made it much more interesting.
At the top of the hill, we visited the crow water fountain that P loves so much. We went down the stairs, and played on the turtle. (P brought her own plush turtle to visit its “mom” – the turtle sculpture at OHSU. I bought the plush turtle when I was up there for a few days doing the migraine treatment. M brought her to visit me and we were talking about it last night – she could recall amazing specifics about the visit, including what she ate for dinner there. It made me wonder if that was why she wanted to take the turtle.)
From time to time, more kids appeared to play in the area near the turtle sculpture. P played chase with them all. To my amazement, once she she introduced herself properly – “My name is [P]” as opposed to “I have a shark named Carla.” I still can’t get her to say “thank you” when she’s being complimented, but since half the time these are directed at me, I guess it makes a kind of sense.
By this point, though, she was exhausted – but she flirted with a young doctor on the way down the tram. She conversed with a man in a wheelchair on the streetcar and announced (at every stop): “This isn’t our stop.” She insisted on standing until she was too tired to stand any longer; the last half of the trip she was leaning against me. We cruised past another park on our way home, popped in at the corner store for a snack, and then headed home.