What had originally been planned as a quick visit to LA for the
weekend quickly turned into an extended visit following my last day at
work on the 18th. I packed Jude and my bag for the short trip to
visit Grandma Shirley, Ray and other extended family only to learn
that Monday morning, en route to Portland, that the biggest storm in
40 years had struck the otherwise temperate city, shutting down all
major roads like clogged arteries.
Not that I'm complaining. Jude loved LA, being surrounded by Ray's
great-grandkids, all around the same age as he. Nicole, my 23 year
old cousin came over with her best friend and her friend's son Dylan
who is a tad older than Jude. Together, they scuttled about,
Dylan walking upright and Jude crawling on his knees and hands.
Each morning, Jude would awaken me by rattling the brass bedframe back
and forth while emiting a primal scream like Tarzan swinging about on his vine. We would then harass Grandma for a bit (she's easily excited and claims that she
doesn't need to take valium. If she doesn't need valium, then fish
don't need water and plants don't need sunlight, etc.) before heading
out along the manicured golf courses and parks surrounded by
clay-colored roofs.
On Christmas Eve, Ray drove through neighborhoods whose homeowners
compete with one another for the most decorated trees, roof tops and
houses, not to mention an array of Christmas lawn ornaments. One home
in particular looked shockingly like a gingerbread house. I
wondered if it was edible.
When a baby is nearly a year old, jingling a change purse and ripping
paper just doesn't suffice as a form of entertainment while on an
airplane. He'll toss the purse on the already littered floor and
just ignore the paper as if it say, "Really? You think I'm that
easily entertained, sucker?"
The squirming and back-arching infant weighs a great deal more, so
your arms feel like gumby after the flight. Jude hates to be
restrained in any shape, way or form, so I spent most of the "seatbelt
off" sign time allowing him to walk and explore the aisles in his new
"big boy shoes" from Grandma Shirley. At the Stride Rite, Jude fell
asleep in his stroller, feet sticking out so the saleswoman promptly
measured (size four, wide) and velcrowed on a pair of white tennis
shoes.
Aunt Steph offered a piece of advice concerning this matter and age. She adopted her then one-year-old daughter from China and to keep her entertained on the 20 hr flight back to the states, she resorted to stickers that inquisitive
fingers could peel on and off for hours at a time. Personally, I can
see Jude devouring the stickers, but if it keeps him occupied, I
really don't care.
Since becoming a parent, I've learned to prioritize greatly. Before everything was about my own comfort. For a typical plane ride, I would have included a book or two in my bag, a sweater, i-pod, gum, a less than 10 ounce bottle of water and maybe a
snack. Most of the ride would be spent chatting with fellow passengers or napping.
Now, it's not just all about Jude- it's all for him too. Bottles,
formula, juice, snacks (grapes, cubes of cheddar cheese and slices of
turkey-perfect), baby books with thick pages so they don't rip out,
car seat, stroller, clothes…The list could go on and usually does so
when you're in the airport, you look utterly disheveled and somewhat
loony hauling all that stuff around.
When we changed flights in Arizona, we had to walk from terminal A to
D to catch the connecting flight. I didn't bring a stroller, so I huffed and puffed, precariously balancing Jude while hauling a backpack, cosmic duffel bag and diaper-filled purse with the other arm. One singleton dressed to the nines looked
my way before remarking to her latte-sipping girlfriend, "I don't know how mothers
do it these days."
So busy was I rushing to the gate that I didn't notice Jude toss
his bottle. Recently, he's begun throwing things, just to see what
happens. He learned that glass shatters on Ray's stone tile kitchen
floor while in LA.
Anyhow, I realize an hour into the second leg of the journey that
there's no bottle and that he's thirsty. Trying to give Jude sips of
a waterbottle results in him gagging and sputtering out liquid then
you and he are drenched and the water is empty before he's ingested
any.
So, I took a big swig of water, then popped a coffee straw (think
really small and narrow) between my lips before squirting the contents
into his heart-shaped mouth. Gross? Definitely. Did it work? Yes, and that's all
that matters. I suddenly a kindred spirit with mother birds who lovingly regurgitate half-digested contents of their meal into the squawking babies' mouths. Not that I would go that far-
Or would I?
Once in Florida, surrounded by half a dozen potential babysitters, the
days melted into one another and somehow Christmas squeaked by amid
all the sunshine, reading and beach time.
Tomorrow we're visiting the East Coast and sending home our light
clothes in exchange for heavier ones.
Last year this time I was just praying he would come...five days and counting!
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
Just shy of his first birthday, Jude has transformed into a wielding Quazi moto with his wild blond fro and equally adventurous escapades. While bathing, one must pay particular attention otherwise he will manage to snatch every shampoo bottle and try nursing them. Although the soap’s acidic flavor is anything but sweet, he never seems deterred and can be found nursing Bumble & Bumble or a personal favorite, the lavender scented Johnson & Johnson bedtime bubble bath.
Speaking of baths, one morning I was taking a shower as Jude was munching away on some cheerios. I heard him toddling over to the bathroom, pausing to roll the fun toilet paper dispenser and explore in a few vanity drawers, then to the shower. Silence. A moment later, the curtain slides open and a giggling, rosy-cheeked baby is staring at his mommy. “Hi Honey!” I shouted over the spray of the water as I instinctively covered my private parts. Curtain slides back. Closed. Seconds later, pulled back again, water spraying across the bathroom and giggling ensuing…This activity lasted until I called for Matt to take Jude as the floor was rapidly transforming into a flood zone.
Jude knows what he likes, and doesn’t stop until he obtains his object of desire. Before, the philosophy of “out of sight, out of mind” ruled, but that has given way to an excellent memory that never forgets where I hide things. He is determined and isn’t afraid to show frustration when things don’t go his way. Unfortunately, it seems he is very similar to both of his stubborn parents.
One development I particularly enjoy is Jude’s ability to imitate and copy sounds and actions. His pediatrician informed me that we need to start brushing his teeth- even those four hard-to-reach back molars. At first, when I attempted to stick the brush in his mouth, Jude pitched a fit. I quickly learned that when a demonstration is provided- “See Jude, Mommy is brushing her teeth. Uma ham ijaihe nkano Jude?” – he’s highly inclined to repeat the action.
Ditto for exploring all things Mommy and Daddy use. Just last night, he climbed into the dishwasher and found a cup and immediately began “drinking” from it. I’m beginning to think he has quite the oral fixation.
Many people are now asking if Jude is beginning to walk. Well, while he enjoys pushing his block cart, but doesn’t quite understand the concept of bending his knees. Instead, he toddles about with his cart as though he recently received prosthetic limbs- stiff with no bounce.
Tuesday afternoon, I managed to obtain court-side seats for the Portland Trailblazers game. Our usual babysitter had a fever (later I learned she was hospitalized for dehydration), so we desperately called around until one kind-hearted friend signed up for Jude duty. It was only on the way to her apartment as we navigated our puttering car around on the frosty streets that I began to worry that he may become distressed over being in a new environment, similar to what happened when we first brought Jude to daycare. Much to my relief, upon arrival, Jude barely glanced back at us before heading off to play with Sadie, a sweet silky black lab/hound. “Later guys!”
After the game (Porter’s #30 was retired and we beat the Kings!), we arrived back at the apartment only to find Jude wide-eyed and cheerful having covered every nook and cranny of their home. Erica informed me that he ate (“devoured” was the term she used) all his dinner of sweet potato, beef and carrots, then “fed” Sadie and carried on with a little more exploring. Even though it was nearly 10, Jude showed no signs of slowing down until he was strapped in his carseat, blissfully asleep in the warmth of the heated car.
Portland also had its first snowstorm last Sunday, which was certainly exciting. We woke to a blizzard and virginal white, pillowy layers of snow, dulling sharp lines and dulling all colors. Although Jude greatly resembled the brother in “A Christmas Story” with his down snowsuit, he was certainly guarded against the cold. A neighbor loaned us his snowboard and Jude enjoyed his first “sled ride” down the backyard hill. One time he fell off the snowboard and gracefully rolled down the hill like the making of a snowball, all the meanwhile smiling.
My last day of work was on Thursday and I’m looking forward to spending lots of holiday time with Mr. Jude.
Speaking of baths, one morning I was taking a shower as Jude was munching away on some cheerios. I heard him toddling over to the bathroom, pausing to roll the fun toilet paper dispenser and explore in a few vanity drawers, then to the shower. Silence. A moment later, the curtain slides open and a giggling, rosy-cheeked baby is staring at his mommy. “Hi Honey!” I shouted over the spray of the water as I instinctively covered my private parts. Curtain slides back. Closed. Seconds later, pulled back again, water spraying across the bathroom and giggling ensuing…This activity lasted until I called for Matt to take Jude as the floor was rapidly transforming into a flood zone.
Jude knows what he likes, and doesn’t stop until he obtains his object of desire. Before, the philosophy of “out of sight, out of mind” ruled, but that has given way to an excellent memory that never forgets where I hide things. He is determined and isn’t afraid to show frustration when things don’t go his way. Unfortunately, it seems he is very similar to both of his stubborn parents.
One development I particularly enjoy is Jude’s ability to imitate and copy sounds and actions. His pediatrician informed me that we need to start brushing his teeth- even those four hard-to-reach back molars. At first, when I attempted to stick the brush in his mouth, Jude pitched a fit. I quickly learned that when a demonstration is provided- “See Jude, Mommy is brushing her teeth. Uma ham ijaihe nkano Jude?” – he’s highly inclined to repeat the action.
Ditto for exploring all things Mommy and Daddy use. Just last night, he climbed into the dishwasher and found a cup and immediately began “drinking” from it. I’m beginning to think he has quite the oral fixation.
Many people are now asking if Jude is beginning to walk. Well, while he enjoys pushing his block cart, but doesn’t quite understand the concept of bending his knees. Instead, he toddles about with his cart as though he recently received prosthetic limbs- stiff with no bounce.
Tuesday afternoon, I managed to obtain court-side seats for the Portland Trailblazers game. Our usual babysitter had a fever (later I learned she was hospitalized for dehydration), so we desperately called around until one kind-hearted friend signed up for Jude duty. It was only on the way to her apartment as we navigated our puttering car around on the frosty streets that I began to worry that he may become distressed over being in a new environment, similar to what happened when we first brought Jude to daycare. Much to my relief, upon arrival, Jude barely glanced back at us before heading off to play with Sadie, a sweet silky black lab/hound. “Later guys!”
After the game (Porter’s #30 was retired and we beat the Kings!), we arrived back at the apartment only to find Jude wide-eyed and cheerful having covered every nook and cranny of their home. Erica informed me that he ate (“devoured” was the term she used) all his dinner of sweet potato, beef and carrots, then “fed” Sadie and carried on with a little more exploring. Even though it was nearly 10, Jude showed no signs of slowing down until he was strapped in his carseat, blissfully asleep in the warmth of the heated car.
Portland also had its first snowstorm last Sunday, which was certainly exciting. We woke to a blizzard and virginal white, pillowy layers of snow, dulling sharp lines and dulling all colors. Although Jude greatly resembled the brother in “A Christmas Story” with his down snowsuit, he was certainly guarded against the cold. A neighbor loaned us his snowboard and Jude enjoyed his first “sled ride” down the backyard hill. One time he fell off the snowboard and gracefully rolled down the hill like the making of a snowball, all the meanwhile smiling.
My last day of work was on Thursday and I’m looking forward to spending lots of holiday time with Mr. Jude.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
With his long, curly locks and oval visage, Jude is quickly transforming into a blond, nano-sized Ringo Star. His vocals aren’t so great but at least he’s got the look. As he inches closer and closer to his first birthday, I take note of his personality shining through with each passing day. For instance, on Sunday, Jude was in a cranky and irritable mood while eating dinner. We had to turn him around in his high-chair to face the sliding glass door leading to the balcony because each time we tried talking to him, Jude groaned, arched his spine and let out a banchee howl. Quickly, we discovered that Jude needed his alone time, away from our constant inquiries.
Another thing- he absolutely adores his daycare. Jude still clambers over his pals to reach me at the swinging door when I come for lunch, but the difference now is that if I stay to sing songs and play, Jude completely ignores me! The other babies toddle over to play catch or poke my face or just to sit in my lap, but Jude continues riding on the honk-honk car or on exploring the carpeted crawling area with a slide.
Jude still clings at times, especially when meeting older men with long, white beards and funny hats. Matt snapped a picture of me, Santa and Jude mid freak-out while on a Polar Express Holiday train; arms raised spastically, lips opened to expose 360 degrees of mouth, eyes crescent-shaped, cheeks rounded. Santa appears as jolly as can be, totally oblivious to the havoc his very presence caused. My arms are wrapped around Jude, as I try to temper my whooping laughter while other mothers looked on, likely condemning me for being the sadistic mother that I am.
On Saturday, OSMI offered $2 admissions, so I emailed a friend I’d met through a Portland new mom’s website. She arrived with her husband and baby boy. The only difference with this couple, or rather similarity to us, was that they were also just 25. It was comforting to be able to discuss upcoming concerts and teething in the same breath, without having to limit topics on either end due to either age differences or childless friends who can’t quite relate to having all the outlets in your apartment covered by plastic plugs or waking at 6 a.m. seven days a week.
We all seemed to get along well and with promises of going snowboarding soon and then camping excursions during the summer, we said goodnight after a few hours at the museum. I admired how they drove across the country with the baby and now she’s taking night classes to get a master’s degree, just how I will as of January. If anything, I hope we can build supportive friendships where we can genuinely say, “No, I really do know what you’re going through!”
Another reason why Portland is so great- there’s a smattering of fun activities to do that are relatively inexpensive on any given day! I always reference the free monthly Portland Metro Parent to scope out activities for the weekend. Falling short of scheduling every waking moment, we always do activities that we can all enjoy, but never get around to all the various opportunities. I’m always telling Matt that in my opinion, Portland is the ideal city to live if one doesn’t have a job. There’s just so much to do!
Tonight, we’re going to decorate our Christmas tree and hope that Jude doesn’t munch on any ornaments in the process. One year, I do recall my brother William devouring a plaster pretzel when thinking it was real!
Another thing- he absolutely adores his daycare. Jude still clambers over his pals to reach me at the swinging door when I come for lunch, but the difference now is that if I stay to sing songs and play, Jude completely ignores me! The other babies toddle over to play catch or poke my face or just to sit in my lap, but Jude continues riding on the honk-honk car or on exploring the carpeted crawling area with a slide.
Jude still clings at times, especially when meeting older men with long, white beards and funny hats. Matt snapped a picture of me, Santa and Jude mid freak-out while on a Polar Express Holiday train; arms raised spastically, lips opened to expose 360 degrees of mouth, eyes crescent-shaped, cheeks rounded. Santa appears as jolly as can be, totally oblivious to the havoc his very presence caused. My arms are wrapped around Jude, as I try to temper my whooping laughter while other mothers looked on, likely condemning me for being the sadistic mother that I am.
On Saturday, OSMI offered $2 admissions, so I emailed a friend I’d met through a Portland new mom’s website. She arrived with her husband and baby boy. The only difference with this couple, or rather similarity to us, was that they were also just 25. It was comforting to be able to discuss upcoming concerts and teething in the same breath, without having to limit topics on either end due to either age differences or childless friends who can’t quite relate to having all the outlets in your apartment covered by plastic plugs or waking at 6 a.m. seven days a week.
We all seemed to get along well and with promises of going snowboarding soon and then camping excursions during the summer, we said goodnight after a few hours at the museum. I admired how they drove across the country with the baby and now she’s taking night classes to get a master’s degree, just how I will as of January. If anything, I hope we can build supportive friendships where we can genuinely say, “No, I really do know what you’re going through!”
Another reason why Portland is so great- there’s a smattering of fun activities to do that are relatively inexpensive on any given day! I always reference the free monthly Portland Metro Parent to scope out activities for the weekend. Falling short of scheduling every waking moment, we always do activities that we can all enjoy, but never get around to all the various opportunities. I’m always telling Matt that in my opinion, Portland is the ideal city to live if one doesn’t have a job. There’s just so much to do!
Tonight, we’re going to decorate our Christmas tree and hope that Jude doesn’t munch on any ornaments in the process. One year, I do recall my brother William devouring a plaster pretzel when thinking it was real!
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