Norman

I'm at home, waiting for my hairdye to complete its formidable job, so I thought I'd update you on the homeless fellow I mentioned a few posts ago.

The Caboose and I have seen him regularly at our bus stop downtown in the Financial District, and each day we have a pleasant chat. By chat, I mean he launches into his typical monologue of loose associations and flights of ideas, while the Caboose and I smile at him and wait for the local bus to take us to his preschool. The Caboose never speaks to Norman, but he asks about him all the time and anticipates our meetings.

We have learned, from Norman, the following:

* He has crashed the Cannes Film Festival, where he met Maurice Chevalier.

* He was married once and wanted to adopt his wife's son, but the child's biological father forbade it.

* He doesn't sleep at the bus stop (though we have not yet learned where he does sleep.)

* Someone has taught him that its polite to rise when speaking to a lady, as he always stands up to talk to me.

* He did not know that the words chevalier, cavalier, and cavalry all come from the same root.

* He enjoys calculating the diameter and circumference of things.

* He agrees that I am not as dumb as I look.

After our most recent meeting, the Caboose and I climbed aboard our bus and sat in the back row, which is our usual spot. The Caboose stood on the seat, hands pressed to the window, and screamed, "GOODBYE NORMAN!" a dozen times to be sure he was heard. Norman didn't hear him, but everyone else on the bus sure did.

More of the Same (Addended)

• Greetings.
  
  It's Umma here. That's right. Booper has started calling me Umma sometimes. He is learning at light-speed in his KIP program. He now knows the following, in Korean:
  
  * How to count to 20
  * How to sing Happy Birthday
  * How to sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star
  * How to write his name.
  * How to say, hello, goodbye, thank you, freeze, stop what you're doing and look at the teacher, stand up, sit down, and behind. (we taught him koon-denghi, but he's learned an alternate word.)
  
  There is a lot more that he understands but can't say on his own. His pronounciation is impeccable. He enthusiastically gobbles up all the bul-gogi, kalbi, or man-du that I can make. (Though this may be in part due to a growth spurt because the other night he consumed an entire adult-sized burrito.)
  
  What's even more astounding is that the Caboose is learning a lot of these things too, just by association. It's true that their minds are sponges right now. So all the scholastic stuff is going great.
  
  Booper is also making a lot of friends, and I'm holding my own with the other moms. Some better than others, as you can imagine. Last night, however, I hit a snag. You see, one of the moms has a tradition of holding these periodic Moms Cooking Nights at her house. (She has an older child in the KIP program, so she's a veteran with these things.) She invites all the moms over, and then one of the Korean moms shows the rest of us how to make authentic Korean food. I'm all over that. Unfortunately, the first one falls on a weekend when my Mom is going to be in town. In order to avoid stepping on anyone's toes, I sent the following to the moms email list:
  
  "I would love to join in for the mom's cooking night, but want to ask the group if it's okay if I bring MY mom. She is visiting for Halloween weekend, and I know she'd love to join us. She is a lot of fun, very social, and loves to try new foods. All that to say, I don't think she will cramp our style. Is that alright with everyone? "
  
  A couple moms responded that it was fine with them. then I received this from the hostess:
  
  "I hope you are not offended but this event is really a KIP Mom only and meant to discuss classroom issues, etc. Inasmuch as I would love to meet your mom and I am sure she is very sweet and would have a fun time with us (and we could probably learn from her as well!), in the past, it became too big as other moms, sisters, etc. were visiting...and it was difficult to say no to one and not the other and it became a general party rather than a "school" related bonding event.
  
  Thanks for understanding. I hope you are still able to make it, even for a little bit."
  
  Now I don't want this to turn into some big *thing.* I am going to be dealing with these parents for the next 5 years. But I was a little surprised at this response, as I felt it was kind of controlling to say that we can only come to the dinner if we are going to talk about school things and this is not a "general party" (not sure what that means.) What do you think? Am I being too sensitive? Misinterpreting?

Addendum: At pick-up this afternoon, I ran into another mom from the class. As we were walking to get our kids, she kindly said, "By the way, I just want you to know that I thought "hostess mom's" response to you about the cooking night was kind of mean. I would have said it was fine for you to bring your mom." I actually got a little choked up when she said it. I guess this hurt my feelings more than I thought. I felt sort of rejected or excluded, and they don't even know yet what a handful my mother is!

I am still interested in other perspectives, so fire away!

High Holy Days

La Shana Tovah! Happy New Year to all you Red Sea pedestrians out there. The countdown has begun....Ten Days to atone for all the sins of the past year. Granted, my sins are pretty mild by San Quentin standards, but pobody's nerfect, as the T-shirt says. During these ten days--so the tradition goes--I am supposed to approach any fellow shtetlers to confess my transgressions and ask their forgiveness. If I do so, they are obligated to forgive me. But since we are in the modern age, I will do so via the internet. So here goes:

1) I did not go to shul yesterday. And even worse, I walked past a HUGE synagogue just as it was letting out, holding hands with the boys, who were loudly asking "What's going on in there?" "Why are those people wearing those little hats?" I told them it was a synagogue, and when they asked for an explanation, I said, "it's a place where Jewish people go to talk with G-d. Like a church, but for Jewish people." To which they replied, "Oh...then you can go in there. So can we. How come we never go in there? And what about Daddy? Will they let Daddy in?"

2) I took the boys for ice cream cones yesterday afternoon after a wonderful check-up at the dentist. While I wasn't looking, the Caboose decided to climb up on the cafe table. But instead of him climbing on top of it, it fell down on top of him. On his FACE! He has a laceration on his precious little nose and one on his gorgeous little eyelid. I rushed him to the doctor, adrenaline surging, and they glued the wounds closed. But his eye is swollen nearly shut. He says he looks like a pirate. I think he looks like Joe Frazier. I know he will heal just fine, and it could have been a lot worse. But WOW! Do I feel guilty about that.

And these are just in the past two days. Going back further:

3) I have eaten an apple from the work fridge that I'm not sure was mine.

4) I de-friended someone on Facebook because he doesn't support Obama.

5) I have ignored my mother's phone calls at times because I don't feel like talking to her.

6) I have re-used birthday gift bags.

7) I have played Scrabulous/Scrabble Beta when I should be working.

8) I have coveted another woman's purse/shoes/coat/jewelry.

9) My driver's license does not reflect my true weight.

10) I have lied to my children and told them I don't have gum, when actually, I do.

11) I have consumed my children's Halloween candy without their permission.

12) I have gossiped frequently about other mom's at preschool.

13) I have judged. Boy howdy, have I judged.

Perhaps it is appropriate for me to stop at unlucky #13. So there you go. My Day of Atonement Meme. Now it's your turn. In the comments section, please.