4th of July family fun

The 4th wasn't that great in terms of weather, but at least it didn't rain as it has in past years and we did get to hang out with family for the day.

Ava has seven first cousins, including the little girl below who, as the only girl amongst five brothers, felt a kinship the minute Ava arrived. She greets me at family gatherings not with "hi, Auntie Natasha" but "Where's Ava?!" It probably helps that Ava's petite build creates more than a passing resemblance to a little doll, as many people have pointed out. So her cousin, who is almost three and definitely into doll-carrying, is totally digging Ava's portability.

Here's another cousin, who although three weeks younger, has outweighed her almost since birth. We all joke that we need a weight belt before we hoist him onto our hip. He is a happy, rotund little laid back baby who's content to go with the flow around him. I suspect he and Ava will be two peas in a pod - make that three, including his sister - once they're both up and walking. It was nice to kick back for some home cooked food and catching up with family after a barbecue disaster that morning at our place. J. inherited his grandmother's barbecue grill and has been trying to perfect her rib recipe, which of course was not written down, but handed down verbally to his mom, then on to J.

He's been slowly adding his own modern kick and flavor to the mix, carefully crafting his own seasoning rub, and even making a sauce from scratch with diced onions, honey and other mix-ins. In the process, he leaves a barbecue sauce speckled mess in the kitchen every summer. But the ends have always justified the means as he enlists me to taste test each effort. His attempts were good from the start, but each iteration improves upon the last. Still, my stock response is, "Oh that's terrible. Simply awful. You don't want to even bother tasting this. Just put it in the fridge and I'll get rid of it for you. Trust me." Which of course means yet another tasty batch.

On the 4th, after a night and morning spent mixing and marinating, pre-cooking and grilling, basting, tending and basically manipulating several slabs of ribs in a manner that would cost you at least $60 an hour at spa, J. prepared to close the grill lid for the last cooking segment.

From another room, I heard J.'s muffled, "Aaghh!" then a loud thump. Fearing the worst or at least a future filled with wheelchair ramps and head sticks, I sprinted to the front of the house expecting to see J. lying in a crumpled heap, seriously injured, or possibly paralyzed, by some unseen menace.

Instead, and happily, I found him staring down in utter disgust and anger at the now dented grill splayed out on the brick pavers and bark spilling its succulent rib contents and still-glowing coals out into the grill lid.

Apparently, as J. released the lid, suddenly, the two wheels on the grill's back legs, which have never rolled when we actually need them to, rolled right off of our back deck to the ground below. He was beside himself with frustration over the now wasted hours and more importantly, wasted food.

Being a veteran of many a campfire mishap, I suggested trying to salvage any slabs in the wreckage that might have escaped the grill's charcoal disgorgement. After cleanup at the scene and an attempt at rinsing the least impacted slabs, one crunchy, grit-ridden bite sealed the deal: the ribs were destined for the trash.

Well, almost. I told my mom the sad tale and she claimed them for her dog, who received quite a stash of lip smacking treats. We didn't even consider giving them to our dog Isis. Although she can lick her own rear with nary a repercussion, eating non-vegetable people food causes her to have violent colonic issues that I end up being responsible for cleaning up. So no, you may not give my dog a treat off your plate, but thanks for asking.

So after that sad morning saga, it was lovely to focus instead on our blessings and kick back the rest of the day with some of our peeps to enjoy each other and the freedom for which so many before us have sacrificed. Happy birthday America!

Lunch with Michelle Obama and a couple governors

Last week, Michelle Obama came to Seattle to stump for Governor Christine Gregoire at Qwest Field's WaMu theater. The cavernous space was filled with a who's who of local Democratic politics, and hundreds of folks who wanted to see Mrs. Obama.

Governor Gregoire has hitched her wagon to theirs as the local paper writes, and did it early on, which has so far been a big coup for her.

But come on: suggested $200 donation to the Governor's campaign for lunch? Sorry: the economy being what it is, I suggested a smaller amount on my check. And I get that it's a fundraiser, but what about the Obama national campaign model of give $25 or whatever you can? That would go a lot farther in building the broad coalition statewide the governor needs to return for a second term.

That said, it was a great lunch with an amazing acappella rendition of the national anthem (see, Democrats are patriotic too!), followed by some good points from Governor Gregoire (the GWB countdown timer bit got lots of laughs), and an inspiring, pragmatic, common sense speech by Mrs. Obama about what's at stake in both Washingtons this November.

Afterwards, Mrs. Obama worked the handshake line and I got close enough to snap these shots.
Whee! She's as tall, gorgeous, smart and welcoming from this distance as she appears on TV.

Former Governor Gary Locke was there too.

And the lunch capped off my second, up close Obama sighting in the past two weeks. Well, sorta. In Portland recently, someone at the Mississippi Street Festival set up this life size Obama cut out for pictures. I hope Ava will get a chuckle when she comes across this years from now.

I already had an affinity for Michelle Obama. But the more I see and hear her, the more I like her. Over at BlogHer, she's blogging too and talking about topics that obviously resonate for me and most women in the country, regardless of political affiliation or whether they have children: the challenges of juggling work and family and how it's getting tougher for everyone, especially those who already struggle to make ends meet each month. Her talk at the luncheon and in interviews I've seen convey her understanding of that struggle that so many working-class folks, and women in particular, are facing.

Despite the financially comfortable life she and her husband have been blessed to create, she grew up on Chicago's Southside in a working class family and thus I think she "gets" what's happening for working class folks more intimately than the photo-op understanding McCain seems to have. He looked like he hadn't been in a grocery store in ages.

Why do politicians even do those? I think a more telling photo op would be to give the candidates (or their wives) a single, working mom's family food budget for the month and have them buy groceries and live off of it to see if it was actually enough. I think Michelle would do swimmingly, because Black women in particular have a rich history of making a way out of no way.

If you're interested, there are also some videos of Michelle's recent interviews on YouTube. I can't wait to see and hear more as this campaign progresses.

Nana's cart before the horse and Ava's feeding herself

Phone rings. It's my mom, who takes care of Ava in the mornings: "Hey, can she have crackers?"
Me: Sure. Wait: what kind?
Mom: Saltines.
Me: Oh sure.
Mom: Good. Because she's been tearing these up!
Me: Well it's good we got that cleared up in advance then.

I actually started giving her Goldfish crackers last night. They don't have transfats, like one of my formerly favorite snack crackers White Cheddar flavored Cheez-its. I'm so bummed those are now banned from the grocery list. I haven't seen a sufficiently tantalizing alternative at PCC or Whole Paycheck Foods, despite the dizzying array of organic sea salt-encrusted, herb enfused, multi-grain laden cracker/crispbread options to be had.

We met up with our PEPS peeps this weekend and caught up with each other and all the babies, who are each progressing at their own unique pace. Ava is the oldest by a couple weeks I believe, so we joked that she'll be the one driving them on teenage escapades since she'll be the first one with a license. Which led to the folks recounting their own teenage car misadventures. Like J. telling the story about driving his mom's car a few blocks away to "ask" if he could borrow it and getting into an accident on the way, totalling it. Ah, good times. Can't wait to regale Ava with that one.

J., a high school basketball/academic star and BMOC, has much better stories from his teen years than me. His stories involve a little partying with the other cool kids, a few youthful transgressions and some escapades that went up to the line but never crossed it, owing to a mom who laid down the law: "You will excel in school or you don't play sports. I don't care if the school district says you only need a C average to play. I say you need a B+/A-. And if I get called up to the school for some problem you've created and I have to take off work, you don't play sports and you won't sit down for a week." Yeah, that's pretty simple to understand, even for a teenage boy. So he had fun, but kept it to a dull roar. At least, in the stories we know about.

In contrast, my stories from high school all have pretty much the same theme: "So I was home studying all weekend and Monday at school I found out there'd been this big party over the weekend that all the cool kids were at. It sounded like it was a lot of fun. The end."

Or "We hung out all weekend at my friend's house reading books from the library and watching a VHS tape of Eddie Murphy's live concert. Then at school on Monday I found out there'd been this big get together over the weekend that all the cool kids were at. It sounded like it was a lot of fun. Then I went to go work on my college apps. The end."

Not the most riveting tales, but at least I don't have to worry that friends from high school or college will come to visit when Ava's a teenager and start off a story with "Remember when we woke up with those rug burns on our face?!" Actually, no, no I don't. Thankfully. More likely it'll be, "Remember we raced to see who could read that book the fastest and we got those paper cuts?!" Such were my extremely nerdy, book-filled young adult adventures.

I guess if Ava ends up somewhere between the extremes of hearing about the party days later and being the one who's presence makes it a party, I'll be fine with that.

On the development front, as I was telling the folks at PEPS that she's been trying to feed herself but hasn't quite managed to get anything in her mouth, I looked down at her on my lap as she carefully maneuvered a cheerio into her mouth with both hands. Two days later, she's on a goldfish cracker binge. Aah, babies. They grow up so fast.

Cheap toys rock

Balloon animal: free at party. Over two hours (so far) of enjoyment for Ava and quiet drive time for me: priceless. I gotta get me a bag of those things! And learn how to make balloon animals.