Thursday, May 04, 2006

Notes from an itinerant family

OK, several of our friends did show up Sunday evening and helped us out quite a bit. They took down every damn piece of hardware left behind by shelves, pictures, coathooks, and spackled the hell out of the gaping holes they left in the plaster. Only now does it occurr to me to wonder how much lead my brilliant child breathed in during that process.

Nutmeg has been having a hard time since I last wrote, which I assume has nothing to do with all that lead dust but rather the upheaval that the massive dust cloud temporarily obscured. At first, she seemed to understand and accept the move. She helped us put things in boxes. Her grandparents were here to entertain her. Then, on Monday, despite the fact that immigrants and some non-immigrants all over town took the day off, a skilled and friendly moving crew showed up at our house at 8 a.m. and started taking away all those boxes she had helped pack. She still seemed ok.

Around 9:30, I took her to the park for a Spanish-language music class, which was of course cancelled because of the huge immigration rally. We were in the Mission District, so we got to see a lot of white-t-shirted marchers grouping up and heading off to the march kick-off point. It was hot out, so Kaymommy and I decided to take the kids to the ocean instead. I might have suggested taking the kids to the march, but Kaymommy hates crowds.

At the beach, instead of having fun trying to drown herself in the surf like she used to do, Nutmeg sifted through sand kind of listlessly, and eventually started whining, "Wanna go home. Wanna go home."

Right around then Epu called to tell me that the movers has finished, and our apartment was empty. Hmm. How do you explain to a 2-year-old that home is, well, over? Instead we drove the kids back to Kaymommy's house, they fell asleep in the car, and I left her there to nap. I went to the dump! That was cool. I should have brought Nutmeg, in retrospect, she might have liked seeing all those garbage trucks. I had lunch, took a shower, made a Goodwill run, and went back to fetch Nutmeg. She was sitting on the couch, crying, repeating that she wanted to go home. And then she started barfing. And she had a fever.

I took her back to the empty apartment so we could pick up her daddy, and we walked her through the empty rooms. As she walked through the empty kitchen, she kept saying it: "Wanna go home." It was pitiful, and I felt helpless.

We went over to our temporary lodgings, and the next day I was away for 17 hours, with the car, reporting my Mother's Day story. Poor Epu and Nutmeg. While I was documenting the challenges of another working family, my own baby was sleeping with a high fever in a strange bed, asking for "mommy" and "home," and of course we left the baby tylenol and the stroller back at the old place. Eventually Epu carried her out to Walgreens to get some Tylenol, which perked her up enough for a trip to the park and to eat some strawberries.

Yesterday she was somewhat better, today much better. But she is still crying a lot, wants to nurse or be held almost constantly, and keeps saying she wants to go home or, sometimes, "Wanna go somewhere else." She did enjoy riding the cable car this morning, though, on our way to retrieve our car from the City Tow, which is ironically less than a block away from the old place. Yes, I need to get a little more familiar with the parking restrictions in my new temporary neighborhood :-(


Ian Varley said...

Aw man! Poor Nutmeg. And poor you guys! Wish we could be there to help out.

Kori said...

Oh, man, you give that Nut a hug for us. We miss her. Tell that EJ and Ada dog can't wait to play with her!

And give yourselves a hug, too!

Notta Wallflower said...

Poor Nut. It's hard to move with kids, but she'll adjust. :-)

Looking forward to Sunday!