My favorite season

Fall has always been my favorite season. In San Francisco, my home for the past 6 years, Fall means lots of sunshine and summery days. It's not unlike my childhood in the Sacramento suburbs--sweating on the blacktop during 7th period PE class, wishing I could wear sweaters and tights.

Now I love the late heat--me and everyone else in the city; it's cute to see people decked out in their sundresses and flip flops. At last! People seem to be saying collectively. It feels good.

Today we went to a Sukkot celebration at Avi's preschool. I love Sukkot, though I imagine my understanding of the holiday is limited. To me, it's about the harvest, the season, family and abundance. Avi loved the party because there was a bounce house. We sweated and my mom, who was so sweet to drive down just for the day because she wanted to see Avi's school, panted to me, "We should have driven the car!" as we pushed the double stroller up our steep hill on the way home. But I loved the walk, loved the sunshine, loved the company.

Yesterday I got to go to yoga and realized it was 13 years ago that I was sweating it out in my first yoga classes at Jivamukti in their first, more primitive setting, a tiny studio in the East Village. It occurred to me that my practice is no longer about my teachers or the place where I practice--maybe it's selfish, but my practice is just for me, my family, and the work I do. My teacher, however, did offer this incredible Rumi poem that really hit home for me.

THE GUEST HOUSE

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

***

I thought of that poem this morning when I felt grumpy and tired. My cousin is in town and I haven't seen her since we were little girls choreographing a stellar number to Madonna, complete with hats. Halfway through my one drink, she looked at me, "Are you drunk?" she asked. I giggled, "I think so!" and then we stayed until 1:00 in the morning. It was fun but there's a reason I don't go out like that, well, two reasons, but it was also so much fun to be out in the city on a Saturday night!

Friday night also found us out--a lovely double date with Andrew and Mollie at the Greek in Berkeley, Band of Horses to celebrate Andrew's birthday. Saba and Safta drove all the way from Monterey just so we could go out with our dear friends and it was a delight. Mollie and I sneaked in an awesome picnic; Andrew got in line early and scored some perfect seats and the weather was amazing.

***

And the combination of fenugreek and Guiness seems to be helping my fledgling milk production. I did give Lilit 2 ounces of formula Saturday afternoon, something I never needed to do with Avi. He was asleep (though he fought his fatigue with such fervor and I let him work it out for nearly 45 minutes until he finally slept) and Lilit was fussy. Leeor was out at the movies, part of our baton-passing of letting each other catch a break (I had gone to yoga in the morning). She is never fussy. It finally occurred to me that she was hungry and there just wasn't anything coming out of her mama to sate her. I felt terrible, but I swear, she cheered, and as nanny M would say, "Le puso mucho attencion a la pacha," which is the bottle, as I prepared it. It was easy. She sucked it down and slept and I tried to make my peace with our reality.

Which brings me back to Rumi, however clumsily. Whatever comes, I hope to accept it. Because really, if the *worst* part about things right now is that I have to supplement my girl's breastmilk diet with a little formula here and there, then things are pretty damn good.

***

The bay bridge sparkles and shimmers outside our windows. My kids are sleeping and I look forward to a good soak in the tub before staying up to watch Mad Men with Leeor, who is napping on the couch. We go to New York this week. And as much as I adore Fall in San Francisco, I am looking forward to a taste of fabulous Fall in New York . . .

Lastly, here's my boy, hamming it up this morning