parking it

I'm learning that as a blogger, I have a hard time writing about things that happened more than a few days prior. The immediacy of the moment seems to be the key to getting me to write. So instead of writing about our lovely Christmas and New Year's in Pasadena and all the sweet times we shared with my family and friends there, I'll instead focus on my intense relationship with parks.

I think parks are my new favorite places. Not only do they get me and my Pea outside, they totally connect you to the essence of a place. I have my park here in Missoula. It's so close to my house and I walk there just about every day. I cruise the mile and change loop with Lucy, with Elie, with Jeff. In the summer we stop and wade in the creek. In the fall it's all about the yellow cottonwoods. In the winter we stare at the wild ice floes and glistening, frozen water. Everyone we pass says hello. Every other person we pass we know by name, (if not the human's name, at least the dog's). It's predictable. Perhaps even boring. But it's my place.

During my stay in SoCal, I did some pretty intense re-exploration of the parks I grew up in. My old haunt, Garfield Park, where I graduated from swinging on the monkey bars with my homies to playing spin-the-bottle with those same cats, represents all the diversity and ecclecticness that is South Pasadena. It's a regular United Nations, with toddlers and kiddos of all colors mixing it up together. It's fabulous in that rough around the edges sort of way.

Closer to my mom's new pad is Lacy Park, the creme de la creme of parks. Lacy Park charges an admission fee on the weekends. It's that swank. Well, that swank and the city of San Marino would prefer to keep the riffraff from the neighboring cities from scuffing up their manicured lawns too frequently. The park was totally fascinating for yours truly. Lots and lots of lovely Asian mamas and grandmamas as well as a handful of Latina nannies and a few big sunny, black spandex clad white moms with even whiter teeth, ala Katie Holmes.

I had some very interesting interactions with these folks. There is a strange intimacy that happens between the different children and guardians in a crowded park setting. Lots of invasions of personal space. Lots of funny comments. I heard a lot that went something like this.

"Gosh she's small! How old is she! Look at how well she walks!"
"Do you see that? She's climbing up all on her own...Be careful little girl!"
"She is fearless!"
"Did you see that little girl go down the big slide head first?"
"How old did you say she was again?"
"Do you want me to go up there with her?"
"She could fall off! You better watch her."

And so on. So apparently Eliana is extremely brave. I didn't know this. The only real "normal" I know in a seventeen month old is my girl. Homegirl likes to climb. And throw herself down headfirst on the big slide. So I assume that's normal.

This theme of lives, of the life I live versus the life I grew up with, seems to be a big thing with me right now. Even in the every day, the fairly blase, there is this feeling of heightened awareness of difference. I thought about what it would be like to be a mommy in one of those warm, Cali parks, the leaves still on the trees, Camellia and bougainvillea blossoms alive and bright. How lovely it would be to never worry about Eliana's hands getting too cold.

Here, today, I had to walk slowly, paying careful attention of the icy trail, remembering to step in the snowy part with one foot to keep me grounded. It felt so quiet. So still. Serene.

There was such an intense energy in those LA parks. Kids pushing past each other. All the swings taken. People talking in all sorts of languages. I could watch the scene for hours. I've always loved looking at people, looking at how they present themselves, how they walk, how they navigate through space.

Now I live in a place where I'm more likely to notice the red berries on the trees, the cracks in the ice. The people I see are interesting in a homogeneous sort of way. They all smile. They are all nice. Nice is fine. It's safe. It's kinda bland.

So a challenge for me as a mama is to truly open Eliana's world. To try my best to show her all the goodness of our little community, but also immerse her, to the best of my ability, in the rich life of the city. I want her to be worldly. I want her to feel comfortable with people who look different than her. I want her to ask questions about how people are unique, about where people come from, about other cultures.

Having this exuberant, competent, golden skinned president elect is a start. Knowing that the universe is shifting, that change is happening, is a help.

And I'll try to keep traveling, if only to help Eliana see a trip to the park from new and unusual angles.

Lacy Park, New Year's Day

Greenough Park, just two days later (with a bit more weather)...