Midweek Caffeination, Baby Eats up the Months

FVBP, with good quality foam

I'm just not sure about the Songbird Cafe's California Roll on Brioche sandwich. Which hasn't kept me from eating it, especially since there are no tiny hands scrabbling for it with each approach to my mouth. Order something fusiony, get something fusiony. This characteristic also seems to be the defining one for this cafe: latte, yes, but Cardamom Rose latte (Compatriot's mention of which lured me to Songbird initially), latte, yes, but Fig Vanilla Black Pepper latte. Similarly, the new, modern light fixtures and jaunty chalkboard wall menu are out of sync with the ugly bones of what used to be the Flim-Flam, a down-at-the-heels diner which limped along for many years before giving up the ghost. Minor oddities aside, being an upscale cafe (with fine espresso drinks, no mistake) within a strip mall on the North Side of Ann Arbor means a wealth of interior roominess* plus easy parking. "Oh," a local proprietor assured me, "The Songbird is the nicest thing in a kind of janky stretch!"

Misfits, at reasonable prices

It's a prime location for me for this week's Dumpling-at-the-office-day, without the worry of meter feeding or any cafe owners trying to stop me from my laptop domination of a two-top. We laptop table-hogs are legion, but here, fields of space remain.

*Let the baby stroller invasion commence! Biding my time.

I had many studio-ish tasks lined up today, but almost all were located in our basement and it's a BEEEEEYOUTIFUL Summerfall day, and spending too much time inside my own house is warping me. So! Delivered some printmaking cards and set myself up here. Expressly to write, though the sad, sad activity that I almost always fall into first is flipping through recent photographs of my baby. Is part of me dying for today's separation? No. And yet, look, this expression is different from that one, and looook, even though this is blurry, it's kinda great because you get such a sense of her little baby BUSY-NESS. Oi. It doesn't help that she's turning 6 months old on Friday; hard to fathom how half a year has passed and this requires further image perusing. I have watched Javier watch videos of the baby, while the baby wiggled on a blanket, gazing up at him; I have done the same. Love makes a fool of you, parenting version? My sister is also coming tomorrow and baby documentation will enter overdrive -- she has been charged with getting new videos for our parents to watch on repeat; and our entire family is a bit ridiculous with documentation to begin with. So.

The moment following month-sticker application

I know I must eat it, but still I worry.

Adhesive means nothing to me

Here I demonstrate my sloppy-burrito technique

******

And here we are, a day later, Sister is safely here and watching Dumpling roll about on the floor, scouring the (low) horizons for new things to gum. She is speaking to her about her 6 month birthday tomorrow; Baby seems currently unimpressed by this. There have already been more photos taken of her than she will ever be able to fathom; more images liked and commented on. I really can't comprehend how many people have held and cooed at my child already, in her life. Don't you remember adults telling you things like,"More people love you than you will ever know?" and this resonating not at all? I remember hearing something like this, and it making no sense to me. "They watched you grow up!" How could that be, when I barely knew this adult, who I seemed to be meeting for the first time. They didn't know me. They seemed strangely invested. I didn't have words for it. And here and now, all these people with connections to Baby, however fleeting... The outer circle, maybe, their day was brightened momentarily. But the inner circle (whose circumference is far larger than I ever would have thought) is peopled with those who seem to love this new little being, whose personality is just emerging. Loved before known.