Raising Babies In The Bay

Weekend Recap: Earthquake, Basically.

The worst thing that happened to me this weekend was that I somehow broke a NewBorn Free bottle that belonged to a family I was nannying so, basically, the summer is winding down pretty wonderfully, I’d say.

Sigh, okay, here’s the thing. I had planned to take the little boys to an Italian Festa and it was going to be glorious because CANNOLI, YUM, but then House Stuff came up and such plans went awry.

Fast forward to it being around 3:30AM on Sunday morning and I’m laying on the couch watching “Jersey Belle” as the boys snooze blissfully away. I’m numbly staring at the television and contemplating dragging myself to bed but on the one hand, I feel like I’m LIVING THE LIFE being up this late just watching TV like a normal human being. On the other hand, I know that I have to sleep because I am babysitting and I want to be completely well-rested so, OKAY, I will get myself into bed.

I continue to stare at the TV as this internal struggle between being a blob and being a responsible adult continues.

Suddenly, the building creaks above my head. I’m totally used to said creaking, which happens every time someone walks across the floor above me but it just sounded different this time. And then, the creaking happened again, except instead of hearing a clear progression of creaking following someone stepping on the floor, this creaking is coming from all around me above my head.

Then, I feel myself swaying. The first time it happened I was like MEH. The second time it happened, it became incredibly clear what was happening. I hadn’t felt this since I was sitting in Language Arts class in the fourth grade.


So, all the way down to where I’m at, I felt the Napa (American Canyon) Quake.

For the record, I ran to Archer who was fast asleep and then ran to Avery, who was also sleeping soundly, while trying to find appropriate pants in which to run outside as the apartment continues to sway. The hangers in the closet are swinging. Then, it’s over. But it’s not really over, right?

I texted my family up in wine country. They’re fine, the cats were scared and now they’re up–scared–watching the news, but safe and fine.

I didn’t fall asleep for another hour because YOU NEVER KNOW. And besides that, growing up, each of the earthquakes I lived through were terrifying. The sound, the way the entire room rumbles around, the utter unexpectedness of it. To me, they came out of nowhere.


This was the highlight of my Sunday.

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In my previous post, I talked about my burgeoning efforts to raise thoughtful little gentlemen and this, people, is proof that my toddler actually listens to me.

He went to the store with his dad and apparently, he walked through the doors, took one look at the flower section right in the front of the store, and went, “OOH, FLOWERS! MAMA!”

I opened the door to a tiny little person holding a huge bouquet half his size with a huge grin on his face.

“Here, Mama! Happy Birthday!” he squeaks as he proudly presents me with a bundle of pink roses before falling through the front door.

My heart. This little guy.

August 24, 2014. The day Avery bought me flowers for the very first time.



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