Fresh copy of Vogue, a bowl of tomato bisque, a sleeping Poulet; what a morning we have had together. We hit the road this morning for an early disco dance class at the Y (I know, my life is a joke sometimes) for Mama Dance with your Baby Monday. All of the regulars were there: the two sexy Filipino nannies with their tiny squires, Jules and BOBO who are both two years (best name ever. Borris, aka Bobo is my dream son, seriously, he is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. A long haired child who is smart as a whip), my new friend Annie and her delicious baby daughter Elly (9 months), Grandma Rose and her starcrossed granddaughter Sophie (15 months), Michelle the dance teacher and Leo and I. It was the best class we have had so far. Leo had a meltdown about halfway into our disco lesson and just had a niiiiiiice lie down on the gym floor. Tired Poulet. I danced my hardest. It is so easy to pump up babies. Erin, if you would have been a fly on the gym wall today, you would have seen me in overalls running big circles around Leo and Bobo, the three of us flapping our arms like tiny birds. I love kids so much, it is ridiculous. I love my job so much, it is also ridiculous.
After class, I cruised around town with Leo on my back running errands, mailing letters (Olive, your doll is on it's way!), grocery shopping and coffee drinking. We stopped in to say hi to Stacy (because she loves Leo) at Naverino, Lo's counter. Neither of them were there, so the Poulet ate Nutrios (healthy Cheerios) off the table like a big boy and I poured coffee down my gullet. We were both pooped after class and it was nice to sit alone with my guy and watch people go about their day at the local coffeeshop. Blue haired grannies talking sharp french in between slurps of coffee, purple haired tripping teens on lunch break making faces at the baby. It was so nice when Leo finally gave up trying to get down and just slumped back against me, both of us in a state of rest and relaxation. Those moments are few and far between these days. We are too busy doing the disco or having BM's or refusing baby slop for lunch. But I just love my Leo and the thought of this way of life coming to an end makes me cry (right now, sudden tears).
Grandma called last night (thanks for checking up on me) and laughed and asked if I was falling in love with Leo. Yup. I am. Du best in shinda (spelling?). You little turkey. My little turkey is right. He keeps me laughing and on my toes. Today he took a slug of cat water even though I made my best effort to stop him. He went for it, hands out stretched. After that, we washed the kitchen floor at my new home on our hands and knees (he tried drinking that water too. Thirsty much?) and then made lunch. It was wonderful to chase him around with my camera in my own home. Leo terrorized the cat and I couldn't help but pause my cleaning to marvel at how fast he is growing. It seems that with each passing day, I am learning the value of my job. All I have to do is hand him back alive at the end of the day, what goes on up until that point is up to us. These days we walk around outside a lot. Leo takes in the world from his position on my back and I delight in the faces of people we pass as they delight in Leo's.
Okay, enough baby talk. Portfolio. Still waiting for clarity, still waiting to feel the Letters of Intent boil up and over their position in my brain and spill onto the cardstock looseleaf I have readied for when that time comes. I have to make two books, find a way to present my selected 8 x12" prints in a really interesting way, fill out some paperwork, sew sew sew. All that and more. Lots of projects these days. I shot my first photo with the Russian last night after making my way to my room after a Lady Dinner with Lo and JJ. A picture of my desk, where I spend every minute that I am not at work.
Kitchen update: the work is getting easier. Or I am relaxing into an environment that I have long befriended. This kitchen at EM Cafe is beautiful. They have one of those bonkers Wolf ranges with the industrial cook and flattop that I would just loove to get down with as well as a 20K oven. I shine her up every shift even though Simon laughs at me when I do it. "An oven this expensive deserves to shine" and it does when I am done with it. I am picking up a tiny bit of french from Benoit and Munshi (a lovely man from Bangladesh who knows nearly 5 languages. He is so modest and kind. Munshi is the weekend dishwasher and likes to give me a hard time about my crappy French). We laugh a lot, or I laugh at the boys. After years of cooking with women, it is really nice to be the only one with lady parts in the kitchen. Hear me roar. Saturday I was forced onto the line with Ben, much to my terror and chagrin. But I managed to keep my head above the poach waters and keep my plates clean and orderly. Calling orders for the grill was still awkward as hell, but it is coming easier. Sunday I was back on prep and it was a mellow day. My hunger for a place in the kitchen is being satiated on a weekend basis. Now that I have been working plenty again, I look forward to starting the week with my disco dance partner more than ever.
Life is good. Happy travels Erin, Rudy, Milky, Ma and Pa. Miss you all. Place a drink with a fancy umbrella on the table in my name s'il vous plait. Gotta run, the chicken has risen and is jumping on the bed.