Minky & Me

Minky and I ate lunch with my friend and former coworker Channa yesterday. Toward the end of the meal, Minky got restless. I released her from her high chair so she could go and sit with Channa.

“Channa, don’t worry,” I said, “that wetness is milk Minky spilled on her dress.”

Not to content to sit another instant, Minky instead began the first of several trips back and forth between us while we continued to chat. On one of the returns I noticed that the back of her tights looked brown. I snatched her up, touched her bottom and, holding my fingers to my nose, sniffed for confirmation. “Oh my God, (sniff) Channa, (sniff) I’ve got a (sniff) type of situation, here. I’ll be right back.”

Lately I’ve been really bad about keeping supplies in my bag. There in the handicapped stall I learned my lesson. Coco was lying on the Koala Bear Care changing table crying her heart out while I attempted to dig around in my bag for wipes. This was done with the poop-free hand, while the other hand held onto Coco. It was surely a hopeless exercise as I was positive I didn’t have any wipes with me. Thankfully, I yanked out a package of Johnson & Johnson bath cloths I’d been carrying around for a year. I ripped it open to find two bone dry cloths. Cursing myself for not using them before they dried up, as baby wipes will do, I looked again at the package: contains two cloths, run under water before use.

For one desperate second, I pondered calling Channa. Hum, I thought, do I have her cell number?

More frantic groping yielded a ziplock bag with two whole baby wipes in it. The crying had only increased by this time and now I am sweating. I made good use of the wipes, even though I really needed seven. The tights would have to be sacrificed. The last challenge between me and Olympic Gold was the crazy long stretch from the changing table to the sanitary napkin disposal.

Remember that scene in the first Austin Powers movie where Elisabeth Hurley explains how they can use dental floss to avoid being eating by the mutant fish? That’s what being a mother is like.

It’s like an explosion here, the language thing. But by far the most charming word, in my opinion, is “pasta”. Mink says it, pa-ta. This morning when Layr asked her to tell me what she had for breakfast she said, “pa-ta” though she’d actually eaten eggs.

Minky was standing on her changing table today as I was struggling to get her jeans fastened up. I was worried with all of her wiggling that she’d fall off. I told her to hold on tight to my neck and wonder of wonders, she did. It was the sweetest thing.

Susan, Sinéad, Tristan, Coco and I all went down to NYC last weekend to participate in Bike New York. Sinéad had gamely agreed to ride the 42 miles on the back of the tandem. Tristan had gamely agreed to ride my road bike – yes, he’s that big. Susan and Coco had gamely agreed to busy themselves some other way during the ride.

Some parts of the weekend went very nicely. Susan met a friend for lunch Saturday while Sinéad, TC, Coco and I strolled Noho. We all went to the MET and saw excellent Max Ernst and Diane Arbus exhibits. Then we strolled across the rainy Central Park to Pete and Carson’s where we got to meet their Goat. What a sweety. She gave kisses to everyone who would have them – everyone but me. P&C took us to a fantastic small noisy Italian restaurant which I think Tristan might consider the best restaurant ever. We prefer noisy restaurants these days because Coco tends to fit in better.

The ride did not turn out so well. The rain which all forecasts had promised would end Saturday evening was still going strong as the ride started Sunday morning. We had not brought any rain gear. We rode the length of Manhattan, kissed the Bronx, and were just heading back south on the FDR when I realized that Sinéad was no longer verbal. She was freezing back there – actual scary hypothermia was setting in. We got off at the first rest area where a gallant rider lent her his garbage bag to wear. We filled her with hot tea and then strolled into Harlem in search of a cab. I sent her alone back to our hotel for a hot shower and then Tristan and I rushed back on now busy 2nd Ave. Sinéad was OK after her shower, the day cleared, we had a fab breakfast and a great time wandering Soho, the wallet I lost in a store was found and returned uncompromised, and we got home safe and sound. Not exactly the weekend we planned, but nice.

Some photos, including a blurry rare one of the five of us (taken by a kind stranger at a playground).