tomorrow is our 5th anniversary

today we went to the renovated playground at golden gate park. maya took off running with her arms dangling down in that primate manner, miles saying he thought it was a parade, but it's not, it's a park as we tried to move his sister as quickly as possible past the trot joe (maya's word for horse--i'm talking about the carousel that should be hidden from view under some redwoods far far away fromm persistent and tantrumming 18 month olds). nestled in some green hills there are kids of all shapes sizes and colors here checking out what the city has to offer. in this case: the old concrete booboo- making slides in the hill, a spider web of epic proportions, 2 modern play structures, one with a little cage-like room where miles found himself hanging out with some big kids (10,11?) who treat him nicely like a cute animal they have spotted. a sand and water feature with little barefooted boys and girls. two green wave sculptures rise out of the sand. crazy spinning chairs with upside down dizzy kids, legs sticking up in the air, looking at the blue blue sky. a house for a tea party. a disappointing barnlike structure with rusty locks. a sandy area with little concrete caves in the sand, good for being a cheetah who morphs into a shark. nihn, nihn, nihn mommy (swings). more. i feel like i am engaged in an extreme sport called where are the children. rebecca, gradiva and i don't even attempt conversation as the kids are swept into the storm of energy sliding, climbing, digging and we dart around making sure ours are accounted for. finally rich appears with green tea salad and nan gyi doke (i am sure i'm misspelling this one) from BURMA SUPERSTAR. we eat a little and throw a few noonoos (noodles) to the pigeons and then off to ride the carousel where for some reason i feel focussed on the young guy running the machine. he sits in the middle, typing on his blackberry, next to a old player piano and two snare drums attached to the wall with old fashoned devices to bang them automatically. these musical machines are resting.

the kids pass out in the car after some unexplained anguish on maya's part. walk, walk, we think she is crying as we make her get in the car. who can blame her? their slack small faces leaning toward each other as we cruise through the city and onto the highway. they are starting to follow each other more. crawling manically after each other on hands and knees at bedtime, growling, oblivious of their parents' presence. maya insists on a blue blanket tied around her neck just like her brother's (cape, masked defender--mispronounced by miles as masked offender, from brainless pooh video). when baby wakes up in our parking spot on busy potrero she starts to cry so hard. what is she thinking? about those spinning up and down horses and pigs and doggies, auld lang syne blasting at us? the tunnel slides through the dark with big kids above and below? she holds on to me crying and saying pitifully only mommy, mommy, and then big brother is there, making funny sounds with the bear puppet, (nooooo mommy), singing trot old joe (nooooooo mommy) until finally he brings in a bag of pirate booty and her sweaty fingers unclench a little and take one, then another and another and soon she is laughing and he is cuddled beside us, not whining for my lap, and it is a beautiful moment after a big day in the big city, a great ad for cheesy corn puffs, and it is all good.