Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Zoe, give me your hands
That's what I say, when you lie on your back and I extend my hands to you. You reach and hold my hands, and lift your head, anticipating the next move, as I pull you up to standing. You smile, I give you a hug. We started this act a few days before you turned 5 months.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Your first flight
Baby Zoe,
We celebrated your 5-month birthday - in Istanbul! You are so young, and already flew across continents with mommy. Turkish immigration officers cooed at you with ahhs and ohhs, while the Americans carefully studied your passport, moving their gazes back and forth between your face and your picture, lest you be a mini terrorist. My little poop bomber.
You are tough, and the best companion. The trip required two connections - three airplanes - and you didn't complain about your ears or about tiredness. When other babies on board cried, I anticipated a chorus that would include you. But you were friendly and stoic as usual. You refused to lie down, as usual. At meal time the Macedonian man next to me offered to take turns, and we each held you while the other ate the meager meal. Then he announced that you began pooping. You pooped plenty during the flight, which got me worried about the number of diapers I brought along.
Our visit to Istanbul was short, cold and rainy. A lot to see, and many to meet. Most importantly, I wanted you to meet your Great Grandma Matilda and take a picture documenting the four generations of women in our family.
To accommodate for your needs, your grandparents borrowed a car seat, a stroller, and a baby bathtub from their grandparent friends, and bought one-hundred diapers - never underestimate Zoe's diaper consumption. Since we had no crib, you and I shared a bed, and built a fortress of pillows around you.
I discovered that Turkish people of any age and gender are sincerely crazy about babies, which explains the population explosion despite poverty. Everywhere we went, you got loving looks, to which you responded with friendly smiles. In an instant, help was available when pushing the stroller up or down a stair, or placing it on an escalator. Sad that people with such tough lives, are so receptive to others' needs, and so easy to make happy, just by seeing your cuteness. Nursing you in public was a breeze. Triggered as much attention as would someone having a cup of tea. And if people's gazes shifted to you, their faces melted with affection. In the States when I nurse, no one talks to me. They avoid eye contact or look-and look away. Sounds harmless, but feels unnatural and suspenseful, with potential for someone to say something.
The traffic was insane. I often found myself envious of people's lives in Istanbul - cultural metropolitan, natural beauty, vibrant people... you are luckily unaware, but we live in Texas... - The envy disappeared every time I was in a car. At some point we were going 10km/hr and your grandparents commented that the traffic was flowing! You can't stand waiting on red lights, let alone Istanbul traffic. Although baby car-seat laws were recently passed, they weren't enforced, so I ended up nursing you in traffic to calm you down.
The big surprise of our trip was the unexpected visit of your uncle Can! He flew in for one night only, just to meet you. Little did he know that you two were already buddies. You displayed no stranger anxiety, to say the least and were ready to play and work your uncle's arms and shoulders to exhaustion.
You played... and bounced... and laughed...and played some more...
You watched soccer...
And the next morning he kissed you good bye.
Our return trip was adventurous and super frustrating. We got stuck at the airport all day, as some airports in Europe were shut down. The hospitable incapable Turkish airport employees waived all solutions offered, thinking that magically the airports in Europe will open despite contrary intelligence, insisted on looking for our luggage elsewhere although I told them where they would be, and eventually, hungry, depleted, and out of diapers, they put us in a hotel by the airport for the night. Happy to see you for one more day, your grandparents drove all the way to the airport again.
Next morning we took off in style with Turkish Airlines, where food was served in plenty.
And Zoe landed on the arms of her daddy.
We celebrated your 5-month birthday - in Istanbul! You are so young, and already flew across continents with mommy. Turkish immigration officers cooed at you with ahhs and ohhs, while the Americans carefully studied your passport, moving their gazes back and forth between your face and your picture, lest you be a mini terrorist. My little poop bomber.
You are tough, and the best companion. The trip required two connections - three airplanes - and you didn't complain about your ears or about tiredness. When other babies on board cried, I anticipated a chorus that would include you. But you were friendly and stoic as usual. You refused to lie down, as usual. At meal time the Macedonian man next to me offered to take turns, and we each held you while the other ate the meager meal. Then he announced that you began pooping. You pooped plenty during the flight, which got me worried about the number of diapers I brought along.
Our visit to Istanbul was short, cold and rainy. A lot to see, and many to meet. Most importantly, I wanted you to meet your Great Grandma Matilda and take a picture documenting the four generations of women in our family.
To accommodate for your needs, your grandparents borrowed a car seat, a stroller, and a baby bathtub from their grandparent friends, and bought one-hundred diapers - never underestimate Zoe's diaper consumption. Since we had no crib, you and I shared a bed, and built a fortress of pillows around you.
I discovered that Turkish people of any age and gender are sincerely crazy about babies, which explains the population explosion despite poverty. Everywhere we went, you got loving looks, to which you responded with friendly smiles. In an instant, help was available when pushing the stroller up or down a stair, or placing it on an escalator. Sad that people with such tough lives, are so receptive to others' needs, and so easy to make happy, just by seeing your cuteness. Nursing you in public was a breeze. Triggered as much attention as would someone having a cup of tea. And if people's gazes shifted to you, their faces melted with affection. In the States when I nurse, no one talks to me. They avoid eye contact or look-and look away. Sounds harmless, but feels unnatural and suspenseful, with potential for someone to say something.
The traffic was insane. I often found myself envious of people's lives in Istanbul - cultural metropolitan, natural beauty, vibrant people... you are luckily unaware, but we live in Texas... - The envy disappeared every time I was in a car. At some point we were going 10km/hr and your grandparents commented that the traffic was flowing! You can't stand waiting on red lights, let alone Istanbul traffic. Although baby car-seat laws were recently passed, they weren't enforced, so I ended up nursing you in traffic to calm you down.
The big surprise of our trip was the unexpected visit of your uncle Can! He flew in for one night only, just to meet you. Little did he know that you two were already buddies. You displayed no stranger anxiety, to say the least and were ready to play and work your uncle's arms and shoulders to exhaustion.
You played... and bounced... and laughed...and played some more...
You watched soccer...
And the next morning he kissed you good bye.
Our return trip was adventurous and super frustrating. We got stuck at the airport all day, as some airports in Europe were shut down. The hospitable incapable Turkish airport employees waived all solutions offered, thinking that magically the airports in Europe will open despite contrary intelligence, insisted on looking for our luggage elsewhere although I told them where they would be, and eventually, hungry, depleted, and out of diapers, they put us in a hotel by the airport for the night. Happy to see you for one more day, your grandparents drove all the way to the airport again.
Next morning we took off in style with Turkish Airlines, where food was served in plenty.
And Zoe landed on the arms of her daddy.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Om nom nom
Baby Zoe,
Your energy source is still exclusively breast milk, but you've become food-curious. Your lips move in smacking motion when you watch us eat, while your eyes curiously focus on the fork moving between the plate and our mouths. We want to wait until you are 6 months old to introduce solid foods, but watching your expressive face as we eat away, is hard to bear. Given your health and strength, and the lack of food allergies in our family, we experimented with a few flavors.
Your first taste test was apples. When I eat apples, and I often do, you grab my hand, pull the apple closer, and suck the juice out. If I pull away, you get upset, extending your arms for more.
Your next test was with strawberries. We were nervous about that one because they are more commonly allergic, and doctors recommend to introduce them in later stages. Then again, lots of things that were normal when I was a baby are considered dangerous now; partly because of doctors' fear of being sued at the remote chance of something going wrong. So I want you to be critical of things you hear, and use reason when developing your views. This means, do as I say. Juuust kidding. You loved strawberries! So much so that when we took it away, you got angry and almost cried, so we gave it back to you and you held it with your two tiny hands and sucked away. You have no teeth to bite.
Your last test was plain yogurt. Mmmm... smooth and delicious. We put a tiny bit on a tea spoon, and there you were, licking away, like a kitten. So far we haven't had any of the horror stories we read about feeding. You are certainly not suffering from "failure to thrive." On the contrary, you are eating well, showing curiosity and willing to try new flavors.
Your energy source is still exclusively breast milk, but you've become food-curious. Your lips move in smacking motion when you watch us eat, while your eyes curiously focus on the fork moving between the plate and our mouths. We want to wait until you are 6 months old to introduce solid foods, but watching your expressive face as we eat away, is hard to bear. Given your health and strength, and the lack of food allergies in our family, we experimented with a few flavors.
Your first taste test was apples. When I eat apples, and I often do, you grab my hand, pull the apple closer, and suck the juice out. If I pull away, you get upset, extending your arms for more.
Your next test was with strawberries. We were nervous about that one because they are more commonly allergic, and doctors recommend to introduce them in later stages. Then again, lots of things that were normal when I was a baby are considered dangerous now; partly because of doctors' fear of being sued at the remote chance of something going wrong. So I want you to be critical of things you hear, and use reason when developing your views. This means, do as I say. Juuust kidding. You loved strawberries! So much so that when we took it away, you got angry and almost cried, so we gave it back to you and you held it with your two tiny hands and sucked away. You have no teeth to bite.
Your last test was plain yogurt. Mmmm... smooth and delicious. We put a tiny bit on a tea spoon, and there you were, licking away, like a kitten. So far we haven't had any of the horror stories we read about feeding. You are certainly not suffering from "failure to thrive." On the contrary, you are eating well, showing curiosity and willing to try new flavors.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Grandfather Avram
My little Zoe,
You have four grandparents and you met them all. That's pretty lucky.
Grandfather Avram was determined to make it to your 4-month birthday. Contrary to his fears, you greeted him with friendly smiles - enough to make up for weeks of worry that you might actually cry at your first encounter. Until his arrival he kept in touch with you through Skype, your blog, and email. You can read them when you're old enough to check emails.
G. Avram treats you like the eighth wonder. No, I never was the seventh. I guess it's ok, since I treat you like that too. You're enjoying the advantages of the First-born - child and grandchild.
I refer to G. Avram as your best friend, since you are enjoying his company very much. You sealed that friendship with a ritual ablution when you peed on his shirt sleeve. Good thing your pee doesn't smell yet, because he had to wear the shirt for the rest of that day. G. Avram sings to you and takes you out for walks. Like G. Roza, he carries you around the parking lot so you can greet me when I return from work. That is the moment of biggest conflict in my day. You look happy to see me, so it makes me feel good. And at the same time I feel guilt for having made you wait for me.
G. Avram watches you as you sleep, and if you wake up, he skips the bus and takes one that arrives after you go back to sleep. He is sad to be leaving you soon.
You have four grandparents and you met them all. That's pretty lucky.
Grandfather Avram was determined to make it to your 4-month birthday. Contrary to his fears, you greeted him with friendly smiles - enough to make up for weeks of worry that you might actually cry at your first encounter. Until his arrival he kept in touch with you through Skype, your blog, and email. You can read them when you're old enough to check emails.
G. Avram treats you like the eighth wonder. No, I never was the seventh. I guess it's ok, since I treat you like that too. You're enjoying the advantages of the First-born - child and grandchild.
I refer to G. Avram as your best friend, since you are enjoying his company very much. You sealed that friendship with a ritual ablution when you peed on his shirt sleeve. Good thing your pee doesn't smell yet, because he had to wear the shirt for the rest of that day. G. Avram sings to you and takes you out for walks. Like G. Roza, he carries you around the parking lot so you can greet me when I return from work. That is the moment of biggest conflict in my day. You look happy to see me, so it makes me feel good. And at the same time I feel guilt for having made you wait for me.
G. Avram watches you as you sleep, and if you wake up, he skips the bus and takes one that arrives after you go back to sleep. He is sad to be leaving you soon.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Progress report
Baby Zoe,
You've been entertaining us with new moves. Last night we were going through the usual dinnertime routine. We sit to eat, you want to nurse, either me or someone else cuts my food, depending on how urgently you want to nurse, when you are done, you sit on my lap,observe and smile, as we eat and talk.
Last night there was no way of making you wait. So Grandma Maria cut my food to small pieces while I started feeding you. In fact, your impatience started way before dinner, when Grandma Maria and I went shopping, and left you with Grandpa Avram. When we came back, we saw your empty stroller on the patch of grass by the parking lot, with you and G.Avram nowhere in sight. I heard your screams way before I entered the apartment, where G. Avram stood soaked in sweat, carrying you. "I just changed her," he said anxiously, as he passed you on to me. He had to walk nonstop for 2 hours, carrying you, or else, you'd start screaming. You don't go through such episodes with me, but I've witnessed similar scenes with your other caregivers.
In Part 2 of dinner - where you happily sit on my lap and smile, you started dipping your hands in my plate and pulling salad pieces. I took the pieces of leaves, wiped your hands clean, just so you dip them back in. I've been waiting for this stage, but I'm not sure how to handle it. We've been thinking of steam-cleaning the carpet. I'm wondering if that's a bad idea since soon you'll be testing gravity.
I thought it would never happen. But you finally got sleepy. When we came to check up on you in the crib, you rotated 180 degrees. A few minutes later, you rotated another 90 degrees, thus completing a a 270 degree counter-clockwise rotation.
Kiss,
Mommy.
You've been entertaining us with new moves. Last night we were going through the usual dinnertime routine. We sit to eat, you want to nurse, either me or someone else cuts my food, depending on how urgently you want to nurse, when you are done, you sit on my lap,observe and smile, as we eat and talk.
Last night there was no way of making you wait. So Grandma Maria cut my food to small pieces while I started feeding you. In fact, your impatience started way before dinner, when Grandma Maria and I went shopping, and left you with Grandpa Avram. When we came back, we saw your empty stroller on the patch of grass by the parking lot, with you and G.Avram nowhere in sight. I heard your screams way before I entered the apartment, where G. Avram stood soaked in sweat, carrying you. "I just changed her," he said anxiously, as he passed you on to me. He had to walk nonstop for 2 hours, carrying you, or else, you'd start screaming. You don't go through such episodes with me, but I've witnessed similar scenes with your other caregivers.
In Part 2 of dinner - where you happily sit on my lap and smile, you started dipping your hands in my plate and pulling salad pieces. I took the pieces of leaves, wiped your hands clean, just so you dip them back in. I've been waiting for this stage, but I'm not sure how to handle it. We've been thinking of steam-cleaning the carpet. I'm wondering if that's a bad idea since soon you'll be testing gravity.
I thought it would never happen. But you finally got sleepy. When we came to check up on you in the crib, you rotated 180 degrees. A few minutes later, you rotated another 90 degrees, thus completing a a 270 degree counter-clockwise rotation.
Kiss,
Mommy.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Four-month wellness check
Baby Zoe,
You are on your way to become a model - although, we want you to get education and use your brain. Here is the summary of your 4-months doctors visit:
Weight: 6.05kg / 13lb 55oz (50%)
Height: 63.5cm / 25in (75%)
Vaccinations: DTaP and Rotavirus
You spread smiles and giggles to the medical staff and took the vaccines without tears - only a look of confusion which read "why would you inflict such pain on me."
As the doctor was listening to your lungs and heart, you grabbed her stethoscope and yanked it off.
After the examination the doctor said that you are tall, slim, and very strong. The staff univocally agreed that you were a happy baby.
Love,
Mommy
You are on your way to become a model - although, we want you to get education and use your brain. Here is the summary of your 4-months doctors visit:
Weight: 6.05kg / 13lb 55oz (50%)
Height: 63.5cm / 25in (75%)
Vaccinations: DTaP and Rotavirus
You spread smiles and giggles to the medical staff and took the vaccines without tears - only a look of confusion which read "why would you inflict such pain on me."
As the doctor was listening to your lungs and heart, you grabbed her stethoscope and yanked it off.
After the examination the doctor said that you are tall, slim, and very strong. The staff univocally agreed that you were a happy baby.
Love,
Mommy
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Happy 4 months!
Hi baby Zoe,
On July 15 you completed 4 months of your life. A pretty olive dress, complements of Grandpa Avram, barely covered your diaper. A white shirt and a white bow made you extra festive. We went to Fabi & Rosi where you spent an evening wrapped in a blanket before, having pooped on your outfit. It is also the restaurant frequented by our cat Alcatraz on Friday nights, as I was told by the owner.
Grandpa Avram has been waiting ("with four eyes" they say in his language) to share this day with you. He wore a suite and a tie - no, this is not how my birthdays were celebrated, if celebrated at all ;-). You were hungry, and a tad tired, so you cried on the way. I was afraid to take you in, but managed to take advantage of a moment of silence. As soon as we sat down, I started nursing you, which turned your mood around. You were a happy baby, unaware of the bow or the dress on which you drooled immensely.
We took pictures, drank wine, and ate a cake with a candle placed by the chef and blown by me. It was an elegant evening - a contrast to the wild little Zoe. The following day was your 4-month pediatrician visit.
On July 15 you completed 4 months of your life. A pretty olive dress, complements of Grandpa Avram, barely covered your diaper. A white shirt and a white bow made you extra festive. We went to Fabi & Rosi where you spent an evening wrapped in a blanket before, having pooped on your outfit. It is also the restaurant frequented by our cat Alcatraz on Friday nights, as I was told by the owner.
Grandpa Avram has been waiting ("with four eyes" they say in his language) to share this day with you. He wore a suite and a tie - no, this is not how my birthdays were celebrated, if celebrated at all ;-). You were hungry, and a tad tired, so you cried on the way. I was afraid to take you in, but managed to take advantage of a moment of silence. As soon as we sat down, I started nursing you, which turned your mood around. You were a happy baby, unaware of the bow or the dress on which you drooled immensely.
We took pictures, drank wine, and ate a cake with a candle placed by the chef and blown by me. It was an elegant evening - a contrast to the wild little Zoe. The following day was your 4-month pediatrician visit.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Nonna Maria and Nonno Alberto
Little Zoe,
A couple of days before Grandma Roza left, Grandparents Maria and Alberto came to meet you. Having raised two of her own, G. Maria is a natural with babies, and she took over your care from G. Roza while I'm at work. G. Alberto planned a short visit, but under your charm, he extended his stay by a few days.
G. Alberto loves our cats and pays a lot of attention to them. So having him was a treat for the cats as well. Alcatraz followed him around, and Uhura found a cozy bed on his dirty laundry.
As expected from a healthy relationship between in-laws, G. Maria and Mommy differ in their views of childcare and marital roles. An age-old conflict between the traditional and the modern - which makes the conflict normal, and our love for you makes it all manageable.
G. Maria washes your butt when you poop, and your face and under your chin when you drool, so you don't get pimples. She watches you play, and reports any development I might have missed while at work. She also talks to you a lot so you develop strong language skills, and folds your laundry. She is always ready to hold you and give parents a break.
A couple of days before Grandma Roza left, Grandparents Maria and Alberto came to meet you. Having raised two of her own, G. Maria is a natural with babies, and she took over your care from G. Roza while I'm at work. G. Alberto planned a short visit, but under your charm, he extended his stay by a few days.
G. Alberto loves our cats and pays a lot of attention to them. So having him was a treat for the cats as well. Alcatraz followed him around, and Uhura found a cozy bed on his dirty laundry.
As expected from a healthy relationship between in-laws, G. Maria and Mommy differ in their views of childcare and marital roles. An age-old conflict between the traditional and the modern - which makes the conflict normal, and our love for you makes it all manageable.
G. Maria washes your butt when you poop, and your face and under your chin when you drool, so you don't get pimples. She watches you play, and reports any development I might have missed while at work. She also talks to you a lot so you develop strong language skills, and folds your laundry. She is always ready to hold you and give parents a break.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Little Red Riding Hood
Little Zoe,
What has the world come to? They re-wrote the good old fairy tales. They teach no lesson, and provoke no thought anymore.
You and I went to a bookstore last week and got you a colorful book titled In the Jungle, and two fairy tales - Hansel and Gretel and the Little Red Riding Hood.
In the Jungle tells the story of animal friends playing hide-and-seek. The drawings are big and colorful, but the text is minimal. When I read it to you, I elaborate on the images to make the story longer. You like looking at the pages. Hansel and Gretel takes the reader outside the comfort zone through a story of abandonment by one's own parents. I picked this story because it triggers questions beyond "what happens next" to "why" and "how come" these things happen.
I picked the Little Red Riding Hood because, well, because the store didn't have the original Cinderella story, and I wanted to buy at least three books and stay under $20. I picked the Little Red over other books, because it is fun, moderately suspenseful, and educational. But lo and behold! When I started reading it to you I couldn't believe my own ears! This was not the original story, but a crappy, naive, and useless adaptation. It was an epitome of modern day American taste where everything is simplified, fantasized, stripped from things that provoke thought or put people at emotional unease. Forget about wolfs being dangerous menaces. Little Red Riding Hood actually has two wolf cubs as pets. AS PETS! There is no confrontation between the big wolf and the Little Red Riding Hood. The wolf doesn't even want to eat the grandma. All he wants, is to eat a cookie shaped like the grandma. A COOKIE! What wolf eats a cookie? No lesson about trust and caution, no encouragement of exploration. It makes me angry to think of reading that book to a child. I'm mad that it got published. I was reading the story to you while you were breastfeeding. When I noticed how stupid it was, my voice went down. I felt I was lying to you, and damaging your potential to develop your intellect and grow as an individual. I will not read that book to you again. I feel bad because the colors and the drawings are pretty, and you might enjoy looking at them. I'll go back to the store and see if they carry the real story with nice pictures.
Love,
Mommy.
What has the world come to? They re-wrote the good old fairy tales. They teach no lesson, and provoke no thought anymore.
You and I went to a bookstore last week and got you a colorful book titled In the Jungle, and two fairy tales - Hansel and Gretel and the Little Red Riding Hood.
In the Jungle tells the story of animal friends playing hide-and-seek. The drawings are big and colorful, but the text is minimal. When I read it to you, I elaborate on the images to make the story longer. You like looking at the pages. Hansel and Gretel takes the reader outside the comfort zone through a story of abandonment by one's own parents. I picked this story because it triggers questions beyond "what happens next" to "why" and "how come" these things happen.
I picked the Little Red Riding Hood because, well, because the store didn't have the original Cinderella story, and I wanted to buy at least three books and stay under $20. I picked the Little Red over other books, because it is fun, moderately suspenseful, and educational. But lo and behold! When I started reading it to you I couldn't believe my own ears! This was not the original story, but a crappy, naive, and useless adaptation. It was an epitome of modern day American taste where everything is simplified, fantasized, stripped from things that provoke thought or put people at emotional unease. Forget about wolfs being dangerous menaces. Little Red Riding Hood actually has two wolf cubs as pets. AS PETS! There is no confrontation between the big wolf and the Little Red Riding Hood. The wolf doesn't even want to eat the grandma. All he wants, is to eat a cookie shaped like the grandma. A COOKIE! What wolf eats a cookie? No lesson about trust and caution, no encouragement of exploration. It makes me angry to think of reading that book to a child. I'm mad that it got published. I was reading the story to you while you were breastfeeding. When I noticed how stupid it was, my voice went down. I felt I was lying to you, and damaging your potential to develop your intellect and grow as an individual. I will not read that book to you again. I feel bad because the colors and the drawings are pretty, and you might enjoy looking at them. I'll go back to the store and see if they carry the real story with nice pictures.
Love,
Mommy.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Good bye Grandma Roza
As the airplane took off, Grandma Roza was crying, I'm sure. In two months, she saw you evolve from a tiny baby, unaware of her surroundings, to one that expresses emotions, engages in conversations (in your own language) and imitates facial expressions. She made you laugh and sang you songs. She cleaned countless poopy butts, washed many spit-soaked clothes, walked you for miles, helped you fall asleep, and in return, you greeted her with a trusting smile. It must have been hard to leave yesterday as she passed the torch to Grandma Maria. She can't wait to see you again. I think you miss her too. I took it upon myself to ask you her daily question: "Zoe, how grandma Roza is sleeping?" You laughed, anticipating the sound of snoring.
This picture is taken at her last night with you.
This picture is taken at her last night with you.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Another milestone
Baby Zoe,
You achieved another milestone. You grabbed your Panda and held it tight and long.
When you saw our excitement, you let out a big laugh. We captured all in photographs. It was October 25.
I was sitting with Grandma Roza. You were leaning against my legs and having a conversation with us. Then you grabbed the Panda. This was the first time you grabbed an object with clear awareness rather than a reflex or a questionable move. We called out to Dad, and told him to come quick with the camera. Like parents we used to find unbearable in the past (Before Zoe - B.Z.), we snapped one photo after another to document your achievement.
We're ambitiously awaiting your milestones. And you're achieving them faster than anticipated - or so we think, as proud parents who impatiently await your success in school.
And here you are, in all your cuteness, chilling in the sink, as Dad washes your butt to change your diapers. You are so strong already, holding your head straight with no problem. My precious little planet.
You achieved another milestone. You grabbed your Panda and held it tight and long.
When you saw our excitement, you let out a big laugh. We captured all in photographs. It was October 25.
I was sitting with Grandma Roza. You were leaning against my legs and having a conversation with us. Then you grabbed the Panda. This was the first time you grabbed an object with clear awareness rather than a reflex or a questionable move. We called out to Dad, and told him to come quick with the camera. Like parents we used to find unbearable in the past (Before Zoe - B.Z.), we snapped one photo after another to document your achievement.
We're ambitiously awaiting your milestones. And you're achieving them faster than anticipated - or so we think, as proud parents who impatiently await your success in school.
And here you are, in all your cuteness, chilling in the sink, as Dad washes your butt to change your diapers. You are so strong already, holding your head straight with no problem. My precious little planet.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
I think I'm your favorite
Little Zoe,
Grandma Roza tells me that a neighbor approached you to say hello, and you started crying. I'm a little concerned about your friendliness because I think this behavior runs in the family. A neighbor walking his dog approached grandma Roza, and asked if the baby liked dogs. Grandma Roza answered "No. And I don't either." Though not as blunt, your parents too, are not social butterflies. So I'm not too surprised at your reaction toward the neighbor. Grandfather Avram is worried that you will cry when you see him for the first time. I should remind him not to take it personally if you do.
I think you are saving all your smiles for mommy. When you see me, you smile. When I hold you, you stop crying. I don't want you to be dependent. But I also get a secret pleasure knowing that I'm the one that comforts you most.
Love, Mommy.
Grandma Roza tells me that a neighbor approached you to say hello, and you started crying. I'm a little concerned about your friendliness because I think this behavior runs in the family. A neighbor walking his dog approached grandma Roza, and asked if the baby liked dogs. Grandma Roza answered "No. And I don't either." Though not as blunt, your parents too, are not social butterflies. So I'm not too surprised at your reaction toward the neighbor. Grandfather Avram is worried that you will cry when you see him for the first time. I should remind him not to take it personally if you do.
I think you are saving all your smiles for mommy. When you see me, you smile. When I hold you, you stop crying. I don't want you to be dependent. But I also get a secret pleasure knowing that I'm the one that comforts you most.
Love, Mommy.
Friday, October 15, 2010
My baby's three-month birthday
My lovely Zoe,
It's your three-month birthday! Today I dressed you up in a cute outfit, with ruffles on the butt. I put on a nice dress too, and took a few pictures to remember the day.
You keep on growing. At first, you mostly kept your eyes closed. Now you are exploring everything around you with curiosity. You look at the lamps a lot. I wonder if its because you've noticed that sometimes they are on and sometimes they are off. When you wake up, you greet me with a smile. You have an amazing sense of time. You know exactly when I'm supposed to be back from work. You refuse to eat until I come home, and show signs of hunger (loud screams) as I leave the parking lot at work. You started grabbing objects when I put them in your hand, and my hair, every chance you get. The other day you even reached toward the thing that dangles from the pink pig on your chair. You figured out that by moving your body, you can make the pink pig rattle (because the chair shakes when you move). You are having many little achievements every day. I'm so proud of you and love watching you.
Mommy.
It's your three-month birthday! Today I dressed you up in a cute outfit, with ruffles on the butt. I put on a nice dress too, and took a few pictures to remember the day.
You keep on growing. At first, you mostly kept your eyes closed. Now you are exploring everything around you with curiosity. You look at the lamps a lot. I wonder if its because you've noticed that sometimes they are on and sometimes they are off. When you wake up, you greet me with a smile. You have an amazing sense of time. You know exactly when I'm supposed to be back from work. You refuse to eat until I come home, and show signs of hunger (loud screams) as I leave the parking lot at work. You started grabbing objects when I put them in your hand, and my hair, every chance you get. The other day you even reached toward the thing that dangles from the pink pig on your chair. You figured out that by moving your body, you can make the pink pig rattle (because the chair shakes when you move). You are having many little achievements every day. I'm so proud of you and love watching you.
Mommy.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Christening
Given the multiple religions - and the lack of - in our family, let me first put minds at ease by stating that this blog entry is not about baptismal ceremony but about your pooping habits.
Baby Zoe, every time we put a new outfit on you, you pass an epic poop that stains it. Ten times out of ten this happens in public. I have witnesses to prove it.
Last Saturday we all dressed up for dinner at a nice restaurant. Dad and I wanted to show our appreciation to Grandma Roza for being great help with you, and with household chores. We put you in a new, elegant Overall sent by Grandma Maria, accented by little butterflies made of tutu. You wore matching booties and a bow.
The waiter brought the bread, which was your cue to start eating. Within fifteen minutes, your butt thundered, followed by the slimy wetness on my lap. My dress too, was new. We wrapped you in a napkin, and ran to the bathroom. The Austrian restaurant was not equipped for bombardments, so we changed you on the floor where you also peed and laughed. You spent the rest of the evening wrapped in a blanket I had in your diaper bag.
Two days later we were at a small department store with Grandma Roza. Sure enough, the moment we stepped in, you ripped a mega poop. Again, the place was not equipped for baby bombers. We changed you on a bench outside the bathroom, carrying yards of wet paper towels back and forth, since baby wipes give you major butt rash. The unexpected cooler temperatures caught the inexperienced mom (me) unprepared. The spare clothes I had in your diaper bag were not warm enough for the day. Grandma Roza panicked. I stayed calm, knowing that in America, if I want to buy something, I can, anywhere, any time, as long as I'm OK with poor quality. I surveyed the environment and pointed us toward the baby section at the store. In the meantime, you started crying for food, since you like to eat after diaper change. We pulled down a few sets of clothes from the racks, quickly evaluating our color, size and style options, chose a 2-piece set, tore off the tags, dressed you on the floor, sat down on one of the stools for sale, and started feeding, avoiding the gazes of employees "discretely" hovering around us.
A while later Grandma Roza said you looked too tight in those clothes, and pulled a 3-piece set from the hanger that was larger in size. We removed the clothes you were wearing, which we haven't paid for yet. Should I neglect to mention that you drooled on the shirt just as I was pulling it off your head? We dressed you with 2 out of the 3 newer pieces included in the set. We left the drooled-on set at the store - no shame. Before we were able to reach the cash register, your butt thundered again and you soiled everything, including your carrying seat. Grandma Roza and I looked at each other, concerned about the security cameras - The baboon family with two crazy women tearing tags of clothes and a baby that poops on everything. We just wanted to get out of there before they threw us out. We changed you in the parking lot, on a patch of grass that divides the parking aisles. Grandma Roza took off her undershirt and put it on your seat so you don't feel wet. We put on you the last remaining clothing item of the 3-piece set. By the time we came home, you pooped on it too. And so we learned that Zoe christens every new piece of clothing she wears.
Love,
Mommy.
Baby Zoe, every time we put a new outfit on you, you pass an epic poop that stains it. Ten times out of ten this happens in public. I have witnesses to prove it.
Last Saturday we all dressed up for dinner at a nice restaurant. Dad and I wanted to show our appreciation to Grandma Roza for being great help with you, and with household chores. We put you in a new, elegant Overall sent by Grandma Maria, accented by little butterflies made of tutu. You wore matching booties and a bow.
The waiter brought the bread, which was your cue to start eating. Within fifteen minutes, your butt thundered, followed by the slimy wetness on my lap. My dress too, was new. We wrapped you in a napkin, and ran to the bathroom. The Austrian restaurant was not equipped for bombardments, so we changed you on the floor where you also peed and laughed. You spent the rest of the evening wrapped in a blanket I had in your diaper bag.
Two days later we were at a small department store with Grandma Roza. Sure enough, the moment we stepped in, you ripped a mega poop. Again, the place was not equipped for baby bombers. We changed you on a bench outside the bathroom, carrying yards of wet paper towels back and forth, since baby wipes give you major butt rash. The unexpected cooler temperatures caught the inexperienced mom (me) unprepared. The spare clothes I had in your diaper bag were not warm enough for the day. Grandma Roza panicked. I stayed calm, knowing that in America, if I want to buy something, I can, anywhere, any time, as long as I'm OK with poor quality. I surveyed the environment and pointed us toward the baby section at the store. In the meantime, you started crying for food, since you like to eat after diaper change. We pulled down a few sets of clothes from the racks, quickly evaluating our color, size and style options, chose a 2-piece set, tore off the tags, dressed you on the floor, sat down on one of the stools for sale, and started feeding, avoiding the gazes of employees "discretely" hovering around us.
A while later Grandma Roza said you looked too tight in those clothes, and pulled a 3-piece set from the hanger that was larger in size. We removed the clothes you were wearing, which we haven't paid for yet. Should I neglect to mention that you drooled on the shirt just as I was pulling it off your head? We dressed you with 2 out of the 3 newer pieces included in the set. We left the drooled-on set at the store - no shame. Before we were able to reach the cash register, your butt thundered again and you soiled everything, including your carrying seat. Grandma Roza and I looked at each other, concerned about the security cameras - The baboon family with two crazy women tearing tags of clothes and a baby that poops on everything. We just wanted to get out of there before they threw us out. We changed you in the parking lot, on a patch of grass that divides the parking aisles. Grandma Roza took off her undershirt and put it on your seat so you don't feel wet. We put on you the last remaining clothing item of the 3-piece set. By the time we came home, you pooped on it too. And so we learned that Zoe christens every new piece of clothing she wears.
Love,
Mommy.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Your friends from the sea
Baby Zoe,
When you get sleepy we put you in bed and turn on the Mobile that hangs above your crib. It plays classical music mixed with ocean sounds, as three sea creatures gently move above your head, and you fall into slumber... So we think.
We leave the room, closing the door behind us. In 20 minutes or so we hear you cry. The mobile has completed its cycle. The fish have stopped swimming. You haven't fallen asleep. You want to see more. This happens every time, no matter how sleepy you are. You are fascinated by your friends from the sea.
You quietly follow the movements of the jelly fish, the sea horse, and the good old fish, and move your legs and arms to the music.
When you see us watch, you laugh. You make the cutest sounds.
When your back is turned to your friends, and you only hear the music, you are slightly more likely to fall asleep... after you put up a long battle to fight sleep off. Shhhh...
When you get sleepy we put you in bed and turn on the Mobile that hangs above your crib. It plays classical music mixed with ocean sounds, as three sea creatures gently move above your head, and you fall into slumber... So we think.
We leave the room, closing the door behind us. In 20 minutes or so we hear you cry. The mobile has completed its cycle. The fish have stopped swimming. You haven't fallen asleep. You want to see more. This happens every time, no matter how sleepy you are. You are fascinated by your friends from the sea.
You quietly follow the movements of the jelly fish, the sea horse, and the good old fish, and move your legs and arms to the music.
When you see us watch, you laugh. You make the cutest sounds.
When your back is turned to your friends, and you only hear the music, you are slightly more likely to fall asleep... after you put up a long battle to fight sleep off. Shhhh...
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Grandmother Roza
Grandmother Roza came from the land of flying carpets, anise-scented nights and minarets stretched down into the shimmering waters where the fish dance.
Grandma Roza spends the mornings with you, while I'm at work. She sings to you and tells you about her life, my childhood and the dinner menu. She takes you to long walks in your stroller. You, like an army commander, yell each time she stops to rest. Even if you are asleep... you wake up and yell. So she walks on.
If you don't feel like going for a walk, Grandma Roza spends hours on a chair, holding you on her chest while you sleep. If she tries to put you in bed, you wake up and yell. So she keeps holding you hours at a time, as you sleep like a lamb.
Grandma Roza taught you to pull your tongue out, which you learned quickly, and practice at every chance. It's on me to find a way to teach you that this is not an appropriate behavior in public. Grandma Roza also changes your diapers and washes your butt in the sink like we do. She smothers your butt with layers of paste, just in case, blaming us for not being able to relate to rash pain which, she claims, adults get too.
Grandma Roza is afraid of cats. She can't leave the room if there is a cat somewhere between her and the door. The other day she jumped of her chair and almost flipped her plate over because Alcatraz walked in her direction. Very strange, but the point is that staying with two cats is torture for her, and she puts up with it to be with you.
Grandma Roza spends the mornings with you, while I'm at work. She sings to you and tells you about her life, my childhood and the dinner menu. She takes you to long walks in your stroller. You, like an army commander, yell each time she stops to rest. Even if you are asleep... you wake up and yell. So she walks on.
If you don't feel like going for a walk, Grandma Roza spends hours on a chair, holding you on her chest while you sleep. If she tries to put you in bed, you wake up and yell. So she keeps holding you hours at a time, as you sleep like a lamb.
Grandma Roza taught you to pull your tongue out, which you learned quickly, and practice at every chance. It's on me to find a way to teach you that this is not an appropriate behavior in public. Grandma Roza also changes your diapers and washes your butt in the sink like we do. She smothers your butt with layers of paste, just in case, blaming us for not being able to relate to rash pain which, she claims, adults get too.
Grandma Roza is afraid of cats. She can't leave the room if there is a cat somewhere between her and the door. The other day she jumped of her chair and almost flipped her plate over because Alcatraz walked in her direction. Very strange, but the point is that staying with two cats is torture for her, and she puts up with it to be with you.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Your new specs
My baby Zoe,
You had your 2-month doctor's visit yesterday. You have grown. Here are your new specs:
Weight: 4.8kg (10lb, 9oz)
Height 58.5cm (23")
You also got vaccinated against Diphteria, Tetanus, Pertussis, and Rotavirus You were very stoic. It hurt. I saw the pain in your face, but you didn't shed a tear. My little warrior.
At 2 months, in America they customarily vaccinate babies against 8 diseases. There is also an alternative schedule where vaccines are spaced out more. I asked for that alternative, not to overload you with bacteria.
You had your 2-month doctor's visit yesterday. You have grown. Here are your new specs:
Weight: 4.8kg (10lb, 9oz)
Height 58.5cm (23")
You also got vaccinated against Diphteria, Tetanus, Pertussis, and Rotavirus You were very stoic. It hurt. I saw the pain in your face, but you didn't shed a tear. My little warrior.
At 2 months, in America they customarily vaccinate babies against 8 diseases. There is also an alternative schedule where vaccines are spaced out more. I asked for that alternative, not to overload you with bacteria.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
180 degrees
Little baby Zoe!
You have achieved a milestone today. You rolled from your belly, all the way to your back. And you're only two months old. Exactly two months old today! Happy birthday.
You've been practicing this move for the past few days - landing on your side each time. Today, you made it to your back. You were half asleep the entire time, struggling your way through the rotation. You didn't look happy, though. Was it too much effort? Did you not like how it felt on your back? Did you want to flip back on your belly but didn't know how? My little gyro. You are so strong. You are too young for this move. Next, you'll be running with Mommy. I love you. Look at yourself in this picture. My adorable kidney bean. Knocked your sock out.
You have achieved a milestone today. You rolled from your belly, all the way to your back. And you're only two months old. Exactly two months old today! Happy birthday.
You've been practicing this move for the past few days - landing on your side each time. Today, you made it to your back. You were half asleep the entire time, struggling your way through the rotation. You didn't look happy, though. Was it too much effort? Did you not like how it felt on your back? Did you want to flip back on your belly but didn't know how? My little gyro. You are so strong. You are too young for this move. Next, you'll be running with Mommy. I love you. Look at yourself in this picture. My adorable kidney bean. Knocked your sock out.
I tried to put this post up before midnight, so it shows as September 15, but I missed it by a few seconds.
Kiss, Mommy.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Meal companion
Baby Zoe,
He who eats alone, chokes alone, they say. And you must know this already, since every time we eat, you want to eat too.
Whether at home or at a restaurant, even if you nursed ten minutes earlier, when you see us eat, you start fussing, looking for the boob, then crying, if you don't get what you want. I learned to quickly latch you on, as your Dad cuts my food into small pieces, edible with one hand. If we are at a restaurant, I change my seat to face a wall, and cover you with a napkin, if there's one, to protect you from food stains. By the time you're done, it's time for the check.You're learning fast. At home, just by seeing us set the table, you know it's meal time.
I asked your Dad to take this picture specifically, to show it to you when you grow up, as I give you the parental speech about "all the sacrifices I made for you." - Love, Mommy.
He who eats alone, chokes alone, they say. And you must know this already, since every time we eat, you want to eat too.
Whether at home or at a restaurant, even if you nursed ten minutes earlier, when you see us eat, you start fussing, looking for the boob, then crying, if you don't get what you want. I learned to quickly latch you on, as your Dad cuts my food into small pieces, edible with one hand. If we are at a restaurant, I change my seat to face a wall, and cover you with a napkin, if there's one, to protect you from food stains. By the time you're done, it's time for the check.You're learning fast. At home, just by seeing us set the table, you know it's meal time.
I asked your Dad to take this picture specifically, to show it to you when you grow up, as I give you the parental speech about "all the sacrifices I made for you." - Love, Mommy.
.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Back with you
Little Zoe,
Starting Monday, I will be with you in the afternoons. I asked my boss to work from home part of the day, to maintain milk supply. Being with you stimulates production. I figured it'd be fine, since most people I interact with are in other states. She refused, as she could not measure performance if I worked from home half the day. So I decided to use my unpaid leave, referred to as Bonding Time. I'd think performing my job would be more important than her measuring it... When you grow up, be the highest level female at work.
I wonder if you'll notice the change.You've been acting differently since I returned to work. When you see me, you want to nurse, even if it's not feeding time. When I came home yesterday, you made a move to the boob. I ignored it, since you had over an hour until the next meal. You gave me a look, which I didn't understand, and started crying. Eventually I figured that you wanted to nurse, and that mystery look meant that you took offence at me for not offering my breast. I'm sorry, little struggle bunny. It takes time to learn your ways.
As well-deserved of its name, we will fill our Bonding Time with fun activities. We'll take walks to greet your animal friends - the squirrels, the birds, and the deer, we'll run around the lake once you fit in the jogging stroller, and visit Dad at work for lunch. We'll also take grandma Roza to restaurants she likes. She's been taking care of you while I'm at work. More on your adventures with grandma Roza in another blog entry...
By the way, I ordered this outfit for you today. Can't wait to see you wear it.
Love,
Mommy.
Starting Monday, I will be with you in the afternoons. I asked my boss to work from home part of the day, to maintain milk supply. Being with you stimulates production. I figured it'd be fine, since most people I interact with are in other states. She refused, as she could not measure performance if I worked from home half the day. So I decided to use my unpaid leave, referred to as Bonding Time. I'd think performing my job would be more important than her measuring it... When you grow up, be the highest level female at work.
I wonder if you'll notice the change.You've been acting differently since I returned to work. When you see me, you want to nurse, even if it's not feeding time. When I came home yesterday, you made a move to the boob. I ignored it, since you had over an hour until the next meal. You gave me a look, which I didn't understand, and started crying. Eventually I figured that you wanted to nurse, and that mystery look meant that you took offence at me for not offering my breast. I'm sorry, little struggle bunny. It takes time to learn your ways.
As well-deserved of its name, we will fill our Bonding Time with fun activities. We'll take walks to greet your animal friends - the squirrels, the birds, and the deer, we'll run around the lake once you fit in the jogging stroller, and visit Dad at work for lunch. We'll also take grandma Roza to restaurants she likes. She's been taking care of you while I'm at work. More on your adventures with grandma Roza in another blog entry...
By the way, I ordered this outfit for you today. Can't wait to see you wear it.
Love,
Mommy.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
First day at work
My little baby Zoe,
I returned to work today, leaving the tiny you at home with your grandmother Roza. You are only seven week old. I don't know of any other civilized country where maternity leave is only six weeks. I don't know how you feel about this, but it's a horrible experience for a mom. I'm not there to comfort you, to feed you, to play with you and make you laugh. And I'm not there to watch you grow, get stronger and gain awareness. I miss watching you sleep. I miss your facial expressions. Yes, you do have a few already. Happiness, curiosity, concern, and the "I need to poop soon" face. They put so much emphasis on breast feeding in this country, yet laws force companies to allow only for six weeks of maternity leave. Yes, work dries up the milk as well as the soul sometimes. I drove home to feed you at lunch break. When I said good bye, you kept your eyes on me until I disappeared behind the door. I'll be crying for the rest of the day. Maybe I'm making a mistake. It feels so not worth it to leave you.
Love
Mommy
I returned to work today, leaving the tiny you at home with your grandmother Roza. You are only seven week old. I don't know of any other civilized country where maternity leave is only six weeks. I don't know how you feel about this, but it's a horrible experience for a mom. I'm not there to comfort you, to feed you, to play with you and make you laugh. And I'm not there to watch you grow, get stronger and gain awareness. I miss watching you sleep. I miss your facial expressions. Yes, you do have a few already. Happiness, curiosity, concern, and the "I need to poop soon" face. They put so much emphasis on breast feeding in this country, yet laws force companies to allow only for six weeks of maternity leave. Yes, work dries up the milk as well as the soul sometimes. I drove home to feed you at lunch break. When I said good bye, you kept your eyes on me until I disappeared behind the door. I'll be crying for the rest of the day. Maybe I'm making a mistake. It feels so not worth it to leave you.
Love
Mommy
Monday, August 30, 2010
Why am I proud of you?
Once you were born, your Dad was on a mission to get me the things I occasionally enjoyed - enjoyed very much - but could not eat while pregnant. These included sushi, oysters, beer, and Scotch.
As evident from the pictures taken at the hospital, we celebrated your arrival with sushi. When you were four days old we went to Perla's for oysters and beer. This was our first social outing together. We asked to be seated outside and had some oysters as we enjoyed the strangers' gazes and complements on your cuteness. Your Dad made the observation that I looked very proud of you. I didn't think about it until he mentioned it, but he was right. It was the weirdest thing. I couldn't figure out why I was so proud of you. You looked very cute to me, but so do most babies to their own parents. Plus you were just born, and you haven't accomplished anything yet. So why was I, and still am, so proud of you?
Everywhere we go I want to show you off and tell people "hey, look what I have, look what I've made." Is it because you came right on your expected date with no complications? Because you grew to be the perfect size, although you had a single umbilical artery in stead of two? Because you automatically knew how to latch on and eat despite all the horror stories I read about the difficulty of breast feeding? Do I interpret all of the above as proof of your survival skills, and thus, I'm proud of your strength and ability to live? Maybe because you are ours and we chose each other to make you, so you embody the things we view as special about each other? Maybe it is all the potential I see in you, and automatically imagine it realized? I don't know. I wish you could see yourself smile and laugh; with your toothless mouth. Even your eyes smile.
Mommy.
As evident from the pictures taken at the hospital, we celebrated your arrival with sushi. When you were four days old we went to Perla's for oysters and beer. This was our first social outing together. We asked to be seated outside and had some oysters as we enjoyed the strangers' gazes and complements on your cuteness. Your Dad made the observation that I looked very proud of you. I didn't think about it until he mentioned it, but he was right. It was the weirdest thing. I couldn't figure out why I was so proud of you. You looked very cute to me, but so do most babies to their own parents. Plus you were just born, and you haven't accomplished anything yet. So why was I, and still am, so proud of you?
Everywhere we go I want to show you off and tell people "hey, look what I have, look what I've made." Is it because you came right on your expected date with no complications? Because you grew to be the perfect size, although you had a single umbilical artery in stead of two? Because you automatically knew how to latch on and eat despite all the horror stories I read about the difficulty of breast feeding? Do I interpret all of the above as proof of your survival skills, and thus, I'm proud of your strength and ability to live? Maybe because you are ours and we chose each other to make you, so you embody the things we view as special about each other? Maybe it is all the potential I see in you, and automatically imagine it realized? I don't know. I wish you could see yourself smile and laugh; with your toothless mouth. Even your eyes smile.
Mommy.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Birth Certificate
I'm keeping a list of places to avoid at all cost, such as the Office of Motor Vehicles, the Post Office, Consulate Generals of all countries, yes, even the poor ones... and now, the Office of Vital Records. This is where you and I went today, to get your Birth Certificate. I'm pretty sure this list is not unique to me. In fact, in spite of all the ethnic, religious, and racial differences, and all the wars, vendettas, and jokes they inspire, one thing that unites us all, worldwide, is the fear of the above places. Mention that you've been to one, and you'll trigger empathy and understanding that you had a shitty day.
Here is a re-cap of our day: We drove East, as the number of fast-food restaurants and run-down ethnic eateries increased, separated by used auto-part shops. We kept driving until we reached the middle of nowhere. I knew how to get there because I already got lost looking for the same location last week. The building looked like it was brought in and put there as one unit. We entered a room covered with people wall-to-wall. No air conditioning or a fan. Mind you it was 104F outside. The main language was Spanish. How come there are barely any white people in these places? Don't white people need to show proof of birth?
You were quite the entertainer. You started your usual crying fit, so I took you out of your car seat and bounced you in my arms. The black couple further down the line kept turning back and looking at you with affection. I heard the man say "I miss having them that small." The woman behind me started playing with your hands, and told her partner that she wanted one too. You are so cute and love-inspiring.
Finally it was our turn. I nervously waited for the clerk to tell me that a document was missing. I pictured us driving home, accomplished nothing, coming back next day, carrying the same load- car seat, the diaper bag, you- crying, me- sweating, waiting forever... But we had everything. The clerk asked me if I wanted the big certificate or the small one. I looked around the walls for samples, to minimize verbal exchange. There weren't any. They were the same price so I asked for the bigger one. I figured it wouldn't be inconveniently big. She handed me your birth certificate after having charged $23. I used Discover Card for the 1% cash-back advantage. I brought it home to show your Dad. It has the names of all three of us on it.
Here is a re-cap of our day: We drove East, as the number of fast-food restaurants and run-down ethnic eateries increased, separated by used auto-part shops. We kept driving until we reached the middle of nowhere. I knew how to get there because I already got lost looking for the same location last week. The building looked like it was brought in and put there as one unit. We entered a room covered with people wall-to-wall. No air conditioning or a fan. Mind you it was 104F outside. The main language was Spanish. How come there are barely any white people in these places? Don't white people need to show proof of birth?
You were quite the entertainer. You started your usual crying fit, so I took you out of your car seat and bounced you in my arms. The black couple further down the line kept turning back and looking at you with affection. I heard the man say "I miss having them that small." The woman behind me started playing with your hands, and told her partner that she wanted one too. You are so cute and love-inspiring.
Finally it was our turn. I nervously waited for the clerk to tell me that a document was missing. I pictured us driving home, accomplished nothing, coming back next day, carrying the same load- car seat, the diaper bag, you- crying, me- sweating, waiting forever... But we had everything. The clerk asked me if I wanted the big certificate or the small one. I looked around the walls for samples, to minimize verbal exchange. There weren't any. They were the same price so I asked for the bigger one. I figured it wouldn't be inconveniently big. She handed me your birth certificate after having charged $23. I used Discover Card for the 1% cash-back advantage. I brought it home to show your Dad. It has the names of all three of us on it.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Your first overnight trip
My precious little planet,
Not counting the drive from the hospital home, your very first trip was to Walmart; like it should be, for every American. You were two days old. I don't remember for what purpose, but it might have been to buy a laundry hamper. Next day we took you to Whole Foods for grocery shopping. So very early on, you were exposed to a wide socio-economic landscape.
This weekend we took you on your first overnight trip. We went to Dallas, TX. It's not so exciting compared to places we went while I was pregnant with you - Peru, Italy, California... But it turned out better than anticipated.
Unlike what Austinites think, Dallas actually has a few nice things to offer. Beware the opinions of those with local pride. We were too late for the Museum of Modern Art, but we got to see the Nasher Sculpture Center and the Crow Collection of Asian Art. Below is a picture taken at Nasher. Stealing a reference from your Dad, here is Cabassi's "Zoe", putting Rodin's "Eve" to shame.
We also tested your and our ability to stand the steaming heat at the Arboretum and the Botanical Gardens. A beautiful place, but we had to cut the loop a little short to make sure you stayed alive. I think J.R.'s oil money goes to buying water to maintain the place so green, the pools full, and the bunnies so big. But you won't know who J.R. is...
And here you are, stealing the gaze of the Sun from the rest of the world.
The highlight of the trip was the Sixth Floor Museum at the Dealey Plaza. This is the building from which J.F. Kennedy was shot in 1963. It was awesome to have a piece of history at our fingertips. We were at the exact spot where the assassin stood, as he took aim. You let out a very noisy poop, which made the young woman next to your Dad turn her head toward you in disgust. She was too stupid to know that you had special rights. They even admitted you to the museum for free. Here, I saved your ticket. It says "Child. $0.00"
Soon we'll have to teach you that sometimes natural means inappropriate. I think we'll know that the time has come when museums start charging you to go in. Until then, enjoy your freedom.
Love,
Mommy.
Not counting the drive from the hospital home, your very first trip was to Walmart; like it should be, for every American. You were two days old. I don't remember for what purpose, but it might have been to buy a laundry hamper. Next day we took you to Whole Foods for grocery shopping. So very early on, you were exposed to a wide socio-economic landscape.
This weekend we took you on your first overnight trip. We went to Dallas, TX. It's not so exciting compared to places we went while I was pregnant with you - Peru, Italy, California... But it turned out better than anticipated.
Unlike what Austinites think, Dallas actually has a few nice things to offer. Beware the opinions of those with local pride. We were too late for the Museum of Modern Art, but we got to see the Nasher Sculpture Center and the Crow Collection of Asian Art. Below is a picture taken at Nasher. Stealing a reference from your Dad, here is Cabassi's "Zoe", putting Rodin's "Eve" to shame.
We also tested your and our ability to stand the steaming heat at the Arboretum and the Botanical Gardens. A beautiful place, but we had to cut the loop a little short to make sure you stayed alive. I think J.R.'s oil money goes to buying water to maintain the place so green, the pools full, and the bunnies so big. But you won't know who J.R. is...
And here you are, stealing the gaze of the Sun from the rest of the world.
The highlight of the trip was the Sixth Floor Museum at the Dealey Plaza. This is the building from which J.F. Kennedy was shot in 1963. It was awesome to have a piece of history at our fingertips. We were at the exact spot where the assassin stood, as he took aim. You let out a very noisy poop, which made the young woman next to your Dad turn her head toward you in disgust. She was too stupid to know that you had special rights. They even admitted you to the museum for free. Here, I saved your ticket. It says "Child. $0.00" 
Soon we'll have to teach you that sometimes natural means inappropriate. I think we'll know that the time has come when museums start charging you to go in. Until then, enjoy your freedom. Love,
Mommy.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Classical Sundays in Texas sun
Last two Sundays we took you to Concerts in the Park - an outdoor classical music concert series that takes place every Sunday evening throughout the summer. It's free and open to all. An attempt to bring classical music to the masses. Luckily the attempt has been failing, so it doesn't get too crowded. People are welcome to bring food and drinks.
Last year your Dad and I used to pack a picnic basket and bike to the event. You are still too small for the bike carrier, so this year we are driving. We would love to walk, but believe it or not, Texas heat can kill the tiny you. Every time we take you outside, people tell us that we are very brave to take you out. We try to put you in the shade, keep the outing short, and put cool water on your forehead and feet. I tried to take you for a walk a few times, but you became scary lethargic. The rest of the day you were fussy, sleepy, and more fussy, and you pooped a lot. I mean more than usual. So I learned quickly not to go on walks with you until the weather changes.
Here is a picture of you and Daddy at the Sunday concert.
A few minutes after this picture was taken, you started an aria. Only that we weren't at an opera. You were inconsolable, and as loud as the orchestra. Your Dad and I exchanged a look of confusion and embarrassment. We have become one of those families that used to disrupt our pleasure with their babies. It was not your feeding time, but I read that nursing calms down the baby, even when she is not hungry. Your Dad wrapped your blanket around my chest, and you went quiet as you drank your milk. Of course I had to relinquish my beer to your Dad who had to make a big sacrifice and drink it. See delicious beer in picture, leaning against the cooler. We are not sure why you were crying, but we think you got bit by an ant, although we sprayed you with bug repellent. Ant bites hurt. It must have been horrible for you to experience that. My little baby Zoe.
Last year your Dad and I used to pack a picnic basket and bike to the event. You are still too small for the bike carrier, so this year we are driving. We would love to walk, but believe it or not, Texas heat can kill the tiny you. Every time we take you outside, people tell us that we are very brave to take you out. We try to put you in the shade, keep the outing short, and put cool water on your forehead and feet. I tried to take you for a walk a few times, but you became scary lethargic. The rest of the day you were fussy, sleepy, and more fussy, and you pooped a lot. I mean more than usual. So I learned quickly not to go on walks with you until the weather changes.
Here is a picture of you and Daddy at the Sunday concert.
A few minutes after this picture was taken, you started an aria. Only that we weren't at an opera. You were inconsolable, and as loud as the orchestra. Your Dad and I exchanged a look of confusion and embarrassment. We have become one of those families that used to disrupt our pleasure with their babies. It was not your feeding time, but I read that nursing calms down the baby, even when she is not hungry. Your Dad wrapped your blanket around my chest, and you went quiet as you drank your milk. Of course I had to relinquish my beer to your Dad who had to make a big sacrifice and drink it. See delicious beer in picture, leaning against the cooler. We are not sure why you were crying, but we think you got bit by an ant, although we sprayed you with bug repellent. Ant bites hurt. It must have been horrible for you to experience that. My little baby Zoe.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Party time!
Baby Zoe,
You attended your first social gathering yesterday. I took you to work, to introduce you to my colleagues. You passed a loud gas and slept the entire time we were there. Some of my colleagues already saw you at the hospital the day you were born. Aunt Bernadette also visited you at home.
We had some refreshments, snacks, and a pretty cake, decorated by Angie. The cake was sage green, with pink baby booties. Angie is the same person who did our wedding cake. She is very nice, reliable and talented. I hate to see her work at HEB. After the wedding I stopped by to give her a wedding candy and tell her how beautiful and tasty the cake was. Her eyes teared up. She was happy to do your cake too. Here is some Motherly talk to you: Always show your appreciation to people, no matter what level they are.
My colleagues were delighted to see you. Here is Paula holding you, while Debra is waiting for her turn. You were only 22 days old. One day you'll be 22 years... I wonder how you'll be like.
You attended your first social gathering yesterday. I took you to work, to introduce you to my colleagues. You passed a loud gas and slept the entire time we were there. Some of my colleagues already saw you at the hospital the day you were born. Aunt Bernadette also visited you at home.
We had some refreshments, snacks, and a pretty cake, decorated by Angie. The cake was sage green, with pink baby booties. Angie is the same person who did our wedding cake. She is very nice, reliable and talented. I hate to see her work at HEB. After the wedding I stopped by to give her a wedding candy and tell her how beautiful and tasty the cake was. Her eyes teared up. She was happy to do your cake too. Here is some Motherly talk to you: Always show your appreciation to people, no matter what level they are.
My colleagues were delighted to see you. Here is Paula holding you, while Debra is waiting for her turn. You were only 22 days old. One day you'll be 22 years... I wonder how you'll be like.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Sleep-alikes
Little Zoe,
Not to say that you took after me, but the picture your Dad took this morning reveals that we sleep alike. Notice the heads angling to the right, and arms thrust overhead, with the right one leading. If the audio was on, you'd hear us both snore.
Not to say that you took after me, but the picture your Dad took this morning reveals that we sleep alike. Notice the heads angling to the right, and arms thrust overhead, with the right one leading. If the audio was on, you'd hear us both snore.
Pediatrician's visit
When you cry I don't always know what you want. I might well be sticking a nipple in your mouth, thinking that you are hungry, while you are having gas pain. It's tough to be a baby. But at the doctor's office the other day, you expressed yourself loud and clear. So loud in fact, that the doctor could hardly use the stethoscope. You reminded me of our beloved cat Odysseus, after whom you are partially named. Yes, I know you will accuse me of this when you grow up. Normally a mild and loving cat, he would morph into a wild beast at the vet's office.
The examination revealed that you have grown since birth. I already knew that of course. Here are your new specs:
Weight: 3.52kg or 7lb 12oz
Height: 53.3cm or 21in.
For American standards, this makes you tall and thin, like a model, or like your Dad. Your height puts you in the 75th percentile and your weight in the 25th in the US.
Waiting to see you grow.
Mommy.
The examination revealed that you have grown since birth. I already knew that of course. Here are your new specs:
Weight: 3.52kg or 7lb 12oz
Height: 53.3cm or 21in.
For American standards, this makes you tall and thin, like a model, or like your Dad. Your height puts you in the 75th percentile and your weight in the 25th in the US.
Waiting to see you grow.
Mommy.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Wild little Zoe
Little Zoe, living in a pond, on a lily pad. The frogs are your friend.
One lazy morning a ray of sun disrupted your slumber.
In rage and anger, you punched the water, awakened the gator.
One lazy morning a ray of sun disrupted your slumber.
In rage and anger, you punched the water, awakened the gator.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Email from your Grandfather
Little Zoe,
Your grandfather Avram asked me to post the below email here on your blog. He is very excited to have you with with us.
My Beautiful Zoe,
Your grandfather Avram asked me to post the below email here on your blog. He is very excited to have you with with us.
My Beautiful Zoe,
Unfortunately I have to learn how to live far from you. And there is only one way to vince that! To be in contact with you... But just in this point I have two other difficulties. 1:I am technologically stupid. (Since 45 minutes I am trying, without any success,to put this comment on your blog.)Now I will ask from your MAMA to do it for me. 2:My English. I am not using this language since 1969. Any way it was never perfect...
When the feelings are very strong,words are not enough to spell them! (And in English?!) But let me tell you that your arrival and your presence gave me a happiness that I did not taste since the birth of your MAMA and your uncle Can. (And never before)
I am sanding to you a poem of Rudyard Kipling.I learned it in Turkish and French. This poem occupied always a special place in my life. When you will be big enough to read and understand it, probably I will be much more far from you. And I wish, to remember this poem, will be more important than remember me for you...
If
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And -which is more-you will be a (PERSON MY ZOE) I hope Rudyar Kipling will forgive me this correction.
If
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And -which is more-you will be a (PERSON MY ZOE) I hope Rudyar Kipling will forgive me this correction.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Butt wash took care of butt rash
Dear Zoe,
By the time you were one week old, you had a diaper rash that could put a baboon in shame. We figured the wet wipes were the culprit; although, I spent hours researching wet wipes to make sure I got the kind that was super gentle on your skin.
For this, I'm going to disclose the brand name that did this to you: Nature Baby. Fragrance-free, chlorine-free... The less things they have, the more they cost. And yes, I know... when you grow up, you will hate me for posting this picture for all to see.
You were in pain, screaming away each time we would wipe your butt. We tried different brands of rash creams, and even exposed your bare butt to sunlight... to no avail. Next, we decided to eliminate wet wipes completely. At the hospital, I was sent home with a Sitz bath, which is basically a portable bidet, to relieve the soreness and swelling due to labor. Luckily, I was too lazy to ever used it. We started washing your butt in it at every diaper change - as seen on picture below, and tapping it dry with a towel. In a few days you were rash-free.
To keep you calm in the Sitz bath your Dad wrote a song for us to sing while "you" shake your butt in water, as we wash it until all poop residues are gone. It goes like this:
A koochie koochie koochie
A koochie koochie koo...
As we shake your butt around, you stop crying, and your face assumes an expression of confused pleasure, as if to say "I'm not sure what's going on, but I'm kind'a liking it..." We have to teach this technique to the grandparents since they will be changing your diapers when I'm at work. You are too young to know what work means. I will soon try to explain it to you in another blog entry. For now, suffice it to say that work is an unnatural game that adults have to play. In many cases they leave their home - yes, also their babies - early in the morning, and spend daylight in a small cell. When it gets dark, they come back home, after having left the last piece of patience in traffic.
Until next time,
Mommy
By the time you were one week old, you had a diaper rash that could put a baboon in shame. We figured the wet wipes were the culprit; although, I spent hours researching wet wipes to make sure I got the kind that was super gentle on your skin.
For this, I'm going to disclose the brand name that did this to you: Nature Baby. Fragrance-free, chlorine-free... The less things they have, the more they cost. And yes, I know... when you grow up, you will hate me for posting this picture for all to see.You were in pain, screaming away each time we would wipe your butt. We tried different brands of rash creams, and even exposed your bare butt to sunlight... to no avail. Next, we decided to eliminate wet wipes completely. At the hospital, I was sent home with a Sitz bath, which is basically a portable bidet, to relieve the soreness and swelling due to labor. Luckily, I was too lazy to ever used it. We started washing your butt in it at every diaper change - as seen on picture below, and tapping it dry with a towel. In a few days you were rash-free.
To keep you calm in the Sitz bath your Dad wrote a song for us to sing while "you" shake your butt in water, as we wash it until all poop residues are gone. It goes like this:A koochie koochie koochie
A koochie koochie koo...
As we shake your butt around, you stop crying, and your face assumes an expression of confused pleasure, as if to say "I'm not sure what's going on, but I'm kind'a liking it..." We have to teach this technique to the grandparents since they will be changing your diapers when I'm at work. You are too young to know what work means. I will soon try to explain it to you in another blog entry. For now, suffice it to say that work is an unnatural game that adults have to play. In many cases they leave their home - yes, also their babies - early in the morning, and spend daylight in a small cell. When it gets dark, they come back home, after having left the last piece of patience in traffic.
Until next time,
Mommy
Friday, July 30, 2010
Your first mail
You received your first letter in the mail today. It's your Social Security card. It was weird to open the mail box and find a letter addressed to you. You have your own card, with your own number. They neglected to mention that the number belonged to the cutest baby.
Aunt Gaia visits Zoe
Little Zoe,
Your Aunt Gaia from NYC is here to see you. We are changing your diapers together, and taking you around town. You like being in the car. But it's so hot that you get all lethargic when we sit outdoors.
Your Aunt Gaia from NYC is here to see you. We are changing your diapers together, and taking you around town. You like being in the car. But it's so hot that you get all lethargic when we sit outdoors.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Birth and Purpose
Little Zoe,
This blog is an account of your life until your memory kicks in, so you satisfy your curiosity about your beginning. It's also for your family that lives away, so they can follow your growth.
I wondered if there were evolutionary reasons why we forget early memories, and whether I'd be doing harm by enabling you to know your beginning. On the other hand, I thought of the capacity of mankind to come up with crazy theories of origin in absence of facts, and decided to move forward.
Now that I've set the purpose of this blog, let me try to set your purpose: You are here to entertain us. Given the amount of poopy diapers, random cries, and sleepless nights, it might be hard to believe that you can fulfill this purpose. Your incredible cuteness, funny facial expressions, struggles with invisible forces, watching you fall asleep, and waiting for you to open your eyes compensate for all. Your other purposes are to help us get out of ourselves and create something wonderful that surpasses us both, to walk us through the life stages rather than repeat the days, and give us a sense of purpose and fulfillment as you develop a mind of your own.
Your purpose for yourself is to become the best you can be, with and against our guidance, and to get over our mistakes, and move on to be happy.
Kisssss
Mommy.
This blog is an account of your life until your memory kicks in, so you satisfy your curiosity about your beginning. It's also for your family that lives away, so they can follow your growth.
I wondered if there were evolutionary reasons why we forget early memories, and whether I'd be doing harm by enabling you to know your beginning. On the other hand, I thought of the capacity of mankind to come up with crazy theories of origin in absence of facts, and decided to move forward.
Now that I've set the purpose of this blog, let me try to set your purpose: You are here to entertain us. Given the amount of poopy diapers, random cries, and sleepless nights, it might be hard to believe that you can fulfill this purpose. Your incredible cuteness, funny facial expressions, struggles with invisible forces, watching you fall asleep, and waiting for you to open your eyes compensate for all. Your other purposes are to help us get out of ourselves and create something wonderful that surpasses us both, to walk us through the life stages rather than repeat the days, and give us a sense of purpose and fulfillment as you develop a mind of your own.
Your purpose for yourself is to become the best you can be, with and against our guidance, and to get over our mistakes, and move on to be happy.
Kisssss
Mommy.
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