Tuesday, March 23, 2004

I don’t know what we would have done without all the wonderful friends and family that put so much effort into making our transition home an easy one. Thanks to Leah and Dan for taking care of Nora and the Dink while we were in the hospital, and the curry and pie are hitting the spot! Jim Elliot, you crazy bastard, thanks for the sushi (and I won’t tell anyone about the beer you brought into the hospital. Ani keeps talking about that Sapporo she and I split with a dreamy look in her eyes.) Zaiga, thank you so much for all the food, that tortellini is really great. Charis, I know that I’ve said this before, but you rule. YOU ROCK! Your kind words and thoughts (and lasagna) have meant more than I can blog.

A note to anyone who is thinking of having a child: Make sure that your washing machine and dryer are in good order. Ours have been running nonstop since we got home.

Wednesday, March 24, 2004

Before Ani left work, everyone was telling her horror stories like: “You know, you’ll never sleep again,” “labor is the longest and most traumatic pain you’ll ever feel,” or “get used to never doing anything fun for a while.” It was sort of a drag. She felt like they were trying to spread their bad experiences around and rain on her parade. I know they meant no harm, and were just trying to make conversation and be part of the experience, but it took its toll on Ani.

Of course labor was hard; she did it without an epidural or drugs of any kind. Of course our sleep patterns and movie-going/dining-out schedule have changed, but those facts are so insignificant when juxtaposed with Ruby’s crinkly nose and bright eyes. I love what Ani and her friend came up with as a retaliatory gesture for the killjoys at work. When she returns, she is going to tell everyone: “No way, it was a piece of cake. Your labor was painful? Oh, I’m sorry, mine was quick and easy!” Or “Wow, you had trouble sleeping? I think we are actually getting better rest now than we used to! It’s refreshing really. She hasn’t cried yet, just laughs quietly. Especially at movies and nice restaurants.”

The first couple of nights were rough, but we slept very well last night. I wrote to a friend that the sleep patterns of my early twenties have returned. Go to bed late, and then you wake up every four hours for something or other. Back then; it was for a smoke, a beer and a book, maybe a phone call or a chat with a late returning roommate. Now it’s to look into my daughter’s eyes and hand her to Ani. I stroke their backs and heads until we drift off for another three or four hours and repeat.

New stats:
Ruby’s first song: Ruby Tuesday (of course) followed by the Beatles: Rubber Soul, Elvis Costello’s Imperial Bedroom and the Kinks: Arthur or the Decline and Fall of the British Empire. She also likes the new Belle and Sebastian Album and The Shins. She’s not so hip to the Jam yet, but who can tell what her future taste may be. We haven’t tried Tom Waits or Ween yet, but those are sure to come.

Ruby’s first injury: She scratched herself with a floating five-pronged thing that seems to be attached to her arm. This thing is at times troublesome and collapses around her face like a giant spider, causing no small distress.

The scratch, which starts on her lower cheek and rises up through her left eye sort of resembles Pacino in Scarface.

Ruby’s cutest position:
Hunched over to burp. Definitely. No contest.

I haven’t read to her yet, so I don’t know what Ruby’s first book will be. I’m reading The Bible and The Sword by Barbara Tuchman, but Ruby doesn’t seem interested in the history of Britain’s involvement in the Zionist movement. Go figure. I am also finishing The Man who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, by Oliver Sacks. A humanist neurologist’s (of Awakenings fame) vignettes about mental disorders associated with the right temporal lobe. In his book, Sacks somewhat successfully (maybe, but who knows?) peers into his patients’ experience. My mom said last night that she’d give more than a million dollars to get inside Ruby’s head.

Still, maybe The Hobbit or Finn Family Moomintroll would be a better candidate.

Any Suggestions?

Friday, March 26, 2004

If you’ve never curled up on the couch with your newborn daughter wedged directly between your nose and the Dink’s tongue while listening to Nick Drake’s Pink Moon, then I have an addition for your list of things to do today. Napping or lounging with Ruby induces trances. Operate heavy machinery at your own risk.

Kiko (tha Dink) has been great with Ruby. In the six years that she has been with us, we have come to the varying conclusions that she is feral, playful, and a little schizophrenic, but since we brought the baby home, she has settled into an amazingly calm, almost meditative state. She hovers, ears relaxed, tail down and eyes calm, near the baby at all times. If the baby’s skin is exposed, she serenely sniffs and licks before thoughtfully resting her chin on a couch cushion or my leg. For those of you that know the Dink, you will understand my surprise at her Zen like transformation. If this new Kiko lived atop a great mountain, I would climb and fast in order to recieve and properly understand her wisdom.
Good ol’ Dink.

On the other hand, Nora, our silly English Pointer, is just goofy and exited around Ruby. No surprises there. When Ruby cries, Nora howls, which is even cuter than you might think. When we first came home from the hospital, Nora just shook all over, sniffed desperately, and pointed at her. It was a little unnerving, since that was exactly what she did for three days in the back yard before she finally caught and killed that poor little squirrel. She’s much calmer and more loving now, thankfully.

Our pack has increased by one, and all is well.

Saturday, March 27, 2004

We woke up early this morning to a wonderful treat. Ani and I usually go to breakfast on Saturdays with Dan and Leah. Today, they brought the restaurant to us. Good food, coffee, and friends, mmm… We are a lucky group. It’s amazing how family extends when you have a newborn child. I know that "It takes a villiage to raise..." saying is pretty cheezey and overused, but there seems to be a communal instinct that babies inspire. Dan’s mom, who we’ve met once, gave us enough baby clothes for nine children! And it’s all great stuff! She encounters it in her business and hobbies, and I guess she’s been setting it all aside for us for some time now. Thank you so much! And Leah’s mom, Binky, made Ruby the best elf hat in the world. I love Binky.

Speaking of good friends, Couch is back in Japan, after a brief sojourn in Cambodia and Thailand. I’m glad. I really enjoy his writing style, and had been missing my morning trip to Osaka (complete with the need for a Japanese phrasebook.) Check out the entry for 3-26: a great description of a moment and a feeling. It’s been a long time since I had that deeply felt link to a city’s urban rhythm. I used to experience something similar in the French Quarter dodging tourists and scoundrels on my way to the Croissant d’Or for coffee, a paper, and a pastry. I am glad to be out of the city for other reasons, but I did love knowing that I was part of a bigger civilized (if not civil) whole, and hardwired into the electrical nervous system of a place that is made more meaningful by throngs of human beings. Justin has a way of capturing the moment.
If you know Couch, you’ll also notice that he (seemingly) effortlessly captures his personality in prose. No one else could have written that passage. Most of the time, he just blogs about random stuff, like we all do, but there are more gems on that site than you might think. It’s exciting when someone has written in a personal style regularly for a long time, and then has developed his own voice. I think that’s one of those signs that a person has gone beyond mere proficiency in writing and stepped into the fuzzy barrier region between craft and art. Cool stuff. I’d like for him to come home and meet Ruby.

Sunday, March 28, 2004

True story: Moments ago, I was sitting here goofing around on the computer, and Ani was feeding the small one, when the doorbell rang. After bruising my way through the swirling and barking mass of fur that springs to life with such noises as doorbells, knocks, and audible kitty fights, I met a sevenish year-old girl. Her bike was discarded halfway down the driveway, and she looked concerned. I had to have her repeat her question three or four times. I didn’t understand her, perhaps because she mumbled, perhaps because the question was so disparate to my mental image of a seven-year-old girl.
“Do you have a cigarette?”
“No, I don’t smoke.”
Then, with a despairing look, she said, “OK, thanks.” Before I could collect my thoughts, she walked down to her bike, and rode off to the next house.
If I still smoked, and I did have a cigarette, would I have given it to her? Was it for her, or was her bedridden Nana pimping her able-bodied granddaughter out for smokes? Was she taking a poll? Would she have also needed a light?
Oh Ruby, sometimes this world has so many questions and so few answers.

Archive
Solids Axes and Pie
Nekkid Dad
We're Still Here
My Monkey House
Nine Fingered Girl
Rock on Little Lady
You and Me Kiddo
A Great Day
Baby Lugosi
Big Papa
A Call To Arms
Ruby in the Wilderness
Pyramid
I Broke It
River Rat
Beaker
ZZZZZ
Shitty Day
Oh No, Bono
Big Pointy
Blow it Dry
Baby Burn
Long Story
Spring Rose
Bennetts and Monkeys
Why Can't I?
Smarty Pants
Primavera
Bjorn
Stim
Yum
*Yawns*
Mulling It Over
Arrgh
Ms. Clean
Easter Cometh
Lucky Number Seven
Fooled
As Jobs Go...
March 23-28
She's Here
March 1-18, 2004
February 2004