Trekhprudny Lane

A golden day, the prettiest since we arrived. This morning we made our lap around the pond early enough to witness a family having some real unscripted fun: the mother wandering away from the rest to space out, the labrador leaping around without a leash, the father mock-threatening to dump one daughter into the water while she and the other two, clearly thrilled, screamed collectively for mercy. It was a relief to watch. Everyone else is so decorous here. The little park is pretty but usually a bit stifling because children and adults alike are so damn stately. They never romp; they promenade. I see now that running and squealing is permitted before 9:00 am. 

That said, Muscovites seem to be unfailingly kind, even reverential, toward children. Yesterday on the trolleybus, for example, as our stop approached and I was wrestling with tote bag and stroller, getting ready to de-board (there's always a big crush getting on and off), a woman quietly took EB's hand and held it until she made it safely down to the sidewalk and out of the way. Other women have, without a word, taken the girls onto their laps for the duration of a bus or train ride, or helped them into their seats on the metro. They wave off thanks; it is expected, they seem to say. I could live without the daily admonitions from the babushkas over what they girls are wearing ("Where is her cap? Mittens? They'll be sick for sure.") But in other ways the kindness of these maternal strangers is very moving for me.

Met a woman who is to be my Russian teacher. Middle-aged, elegant, accomplished, whip-smart, single and childless. Driven, very sensitive, very opinionated, alone. Occurred to me that perhaps I should be grateful for the ballast (diapers and wipes, stroller, oatmeal, nap time, A.'s socks and ties, electric teakettle, crayons, junior toothpaste, frozen dinners) which wears down my sharp edges and keeps me from moving or even thinking too fast. Without it I might spin off into a frenzy of misdirected ambition, self-obsession, and fear.