They call me Dr. Mom

I received a letter from UCI today (forwarded from Maryland--thanks Bob and Toni) notifying me that I "have earned the degree of Doctor in Philosophy in English from the University of California, Irvine, conferred as of September 10, 2008." And it is addressed to "Dr. Zeiss!" Now there are three Dr. Zeisses...though I still plan on becoming Dr. Zanner as soon as we get back to the states and can go get the court order. I'm hoping, though, that now that I'm a doctor someone will once again mispronounce my last name as "Zay-us" before we get that family name change.

So now Tristram will have to address me as Dr. Mommy. I am excited, but most of all I finally feel like a grown-up. When I was little I thought all adults had doctorates, and apparently I still do.

The other big event of the day, which was almost as gratifying, was that we slept in till 8:30. Tristram yelled from 3 to 4, ate a little after 5, and then didn't get up until he heard us get out of bed. Usually we get up at 7, with no need for an alarm. I haven't slept that late since he was born, unless you count the early days when there is really no schedule at all. And I don't.

Above is what fog looks like from our balcony. It was foggy this morning, which went a long way toward making me feel at home. I missed foggy mornings, and fog in general, most desperately. It then got bitterly cold--hurts your fingers cold--and rained.

I want to stay because it rains. It's like there's a holiday at least once a week. It's always that mid-winter, chance of rain, things are growing, life is restored to the earth feel, with green grass and everything.

I want to leave because it was cold today and it's going to get colder. Tristram will need warm shoes, and possible a closed-to-the-elements stroller, and I will need warmer socks, at the least. I thought longingly today of the big huge coat that Ergo sells to wear over our daily-use baby carrier. I had great hopes for a mild winter when we moved here, because parks and traffic circles and median strips were filled with brugmansias and banana trees that were clearly years old, but in September they dug them all out. Turns out they were in pots and were taken off to safety for the winter. Now they've planted pansies, primroses, and hardy violets in their place. My heart sinks, but I'm pinning my hopes on the fuschias. The parks are full of thriving fuschia bushes that are still in place. Plus, with all the rosemary and lavendar and the occasional hibiscus that one sees, it can't be TOO harsh a winter. I'm hoping it's the equivalent of a USDA zone 8. But I'm scared.