We took Tabitha to a wine festival with us this weekend. Initially, we had arranged for a babysitter to watch her, but the babysitter backed out, the weather was gorgeous and the festival was lauded as a family-friendly event, so we decided to pack her up and bring her along. Honestly, I was much happier going as a family. (Not that I don’t love dates with Neal! I love our sushi dinner dates once Tabitha goes to bed, but when she’s up I like to be with her.) I felt like somewhat of a lush bringing a baby to a wine festival, but she wasn’t the only baby there (by far), and we had splurged for tickets in the tasting tent. Rather than walk around from tent to tent and wait in line for samples, we had seats in a tent and someone walking around pouring wine. As luck would have it, our pourer was a kindergarten teacher who was smitten with Tabitha, and she engaged her, encouraged her to touch the chilled wine bottles and made sure it was as much fun for her as it was for us.
Tabitha and I split a grilled cheese sandwich. And by “split” I mean I ate 99% of it while Tabitha happily gnawed on a few morsels of grilled sourdough and acted like it was the greatest thing since, well, sliced bread.
(I didn’t share the wine, though. I promise.)
(And I suppose you can all remind me of this twenty five years from now if my Sweet Pea turns into a raging alcoholic.)
Speaking of genetic predispositions for alcoholism and whatnot (and we weren’t, but whatever,) I heard about Me, Myself and Why: Searching for the Science of Self on Science Friday last week (uber nerd alert) and am curious. One of the things the author did was a ‘mini’ genetic screening; the host asked her if she was uncomfortable with the screening—if there were perhaps some things that she would prefer not to know. (For instance, if you knew you were predisposed towards alcoholism, would you be able to enjoy your next glass of wine, even if you had no issues with previous glasses? If you knew you were genetically predisposed towards Alzheimer’s, would previously laughable moments of lost keys or sunglasses suddenly become more sinister?) As a scientist, the author said she simply likes to know as much as possible, whether it be good or bad. As a researcher, I suppose I might like to know if given the opportunity, but as a person who has a tendency to fixate on the darker side of things, I feel some stones are better left unturned.
I recognize how grateful I am to have the job I have. Despite the long commute, I have been pleasantly surprised to learn that my personality is actually quite well-suited for an open office environment. (Or perhaps my manager just did a very good of determining who would sit where.) That being said, I have a tendency to get distracted throughout the day by thoughts of Tabitha. The poor thing has a rather bad head cold and the past few nights have been rough for her. Lying on her back worsens her congestion and Neal and I have had to go into her nursery numerous times to clear out her nose and soothe her back to sleep. I know she’s well cared for in daycare, but I also know she’s tired today, and I wish I could be home rocking her as she naps.
(Written in response to the Writing 101’s “Unlock the Mind” prompt.)