The other day, Vivian grabbed two pieces of baby cereal/finger food and shoved them into her mouth. For a second, she choked on one. Then she was fine.
In that second, a whole bunch of scenarios crossed my mind. One obviously was - what if she never started breathing again and we couldn't fix it? The thought existed for a fraction of a second, but it was so intense that I felt real sadness for a while (I only realized the connection when examined my thoughts).
I am not given to worry. I don't think about death much. If life goes as it should and my baby outlives me, I will still occasionally feel the pain of her imagined loss. When something is this precious, there is hurt even in the perfect world. Now, that's a pain. Kid, you had better be worth all this. Oh, and Jo - we need to schedule that baby CPR class.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Hello dolly
Remember those strongest man type contests on TV from the 90s - some huge Danish guy pulling a greyhound bus down the street while tossing beer barrels over his shoulder?
Vivian's got a version of her very own. She rounds up all three bar stools from the kitchen area and shoves them over to the dining area where she picks up a dining chair or two. Then she pushes the whole train all over the house. Sometimes, she has her music/learning table-toy thing in front of the processing - still gleefully playing a recording of the alphabet in Spanish. All this while she leans into the end of the pile at a steep angle and grunts like Magnusson or whoever on TV. Soon all the furniture is in the wrong place.
Then I run around and try to bring some semblance of order by moving the shit back. Before I am done, Ms. Magnusson is at it again. And this happens several times a day.
When Vivian was a newborn, I would dream about her future. A great lawyer, a super geek...
It turns out that my dear girl is going to grow up and be a great furniture mover. When I tell Alu about this, he suggests that I buy her a little dolly and sit back and watch her moving business take off.
The funny side-effect of this is that she doesn't need to learn to walk. Why do that when you can just lean on a couple of chairs and move them over to where you want to go?
Vivian's got a version of her very own. She rounds up all three bar stools from the kitchen area and shoves them over to the dining area where she picks up a dining chair or two. Then she pushes the whole train all over the house. Sometimes, she has her music/learning table-toy thing in front of the processing - still gleefully playing a recording of the alphabet in Spanish. All this while she leans into the end of the pile at a steep angle and grunts like Magnusson or whoever on TV. Soon all the furniture is in the wrong place.
Then I run around and try to bring some semblance of order by moving the shit back. Before I am done, Ms. Magnusson is at it again. And this happens several times a day.
When Vivian was a newborn, I would dream about her future. A great lawyer, a super geek...
It turns out that my dear girl is going to grow up and be a great furniture mover. When I tell Alu about this, he suggests that I buy her a little dolly and sit back and watch her moving business take off.
The funny side-effect of this is that she doesn't need to learn to walk. Why do that when you can just lean on a couple of chairs and move them over to where you want to go?
Like taking candy from a baby
It is Wednesday evening and Jo, Vivian, and I are hungry and unprepared to cook at home. So we go to EZ's, the local eatery and brick oven down the street. Once we arrive, we realize our mistake - it's Wednesday - kids eat free. Every kid in a 50 mile radius is in there.
We run into Sharon and Essy and chat for a few minutes till a booth opens up and we grab it. Soon, Vivian realizes that if she stands on her tip toes and looks over the back of the booth, she can see the little girl (about 5-6 years old) in the booth next door. Vivian starts smiling and waving and making cute faces at her.
There's this guy who is walking up and down making little sculptures out of balloons and selling them to kids (a bit like a crack dealer at the local AA meeting). The kids are down with it and the parents are shelling out whatever to keep junior from losing it in a restaurant. The parents in the booth beside us buy two beach-ball type balloons for the little girl and her brother.
We eat. Kids scream. I think about how I'd rather be on a road trip to Nebraska with Quinn and Kai and Devyn and Grace and Eva in a Yugo then here. And Vivian keeps smiling and waving between mouthfuls to the girl next door. Then they finish eating and get up to go when the little girl comes over and offers Vivian her beach ball thingie that her dad has just bought for her. Vivian shamelessly sticks out her hands and accepts this ball that is bigger than her. Jo tries to protest - though somewhat weakly as she realizes how quickly Vivian is getting attached to said ball and anticipating how much louder our kid is going to scream when the ball is taken away from her than all of the other kids at EZ's put together.
So we thank them profusely and Vivian is now a proud owner of some other kid's new toy. I try to moralize about it, but decide instead that I'm going to to hang out at Tiffany's tomorrow with Vivian. May be the same little girl will be there with something nice her dad just bought her...
We run into Sharon and Essy and chat for a few minutes till a booth opens up and we grab it. Soon, Vivian realizes that if she stands on her tip toes and looks over the back of the booth, she can see the little girl (about 5-6 years old) in the booth next door. Vivian starts smiling and waving and making cute faces at her.
There's this guy who is walking up and down making little sculptures out of balloons and selling them to kids (a bit like a crack dealer at the local AA meeting). The kids are down with it and the parents are shelling out whatever to keep junior from losing it in a restaurant. The parents in the booth beside us buy two beach-ball type balloons for the little girl and her brother.
We eat. Kids scream. I think about how I'd rather be on a road trip to Nebraska with Quinn and Kai and Devyn and Grace and Eva in a Yugo then here. And Vivian keeps smiling and waving between mouthfuls to the girl next door. Then they finish eating and get up to go when the little girl comes over and offers Vivian her beach ball thingie that her dad has just bought for her. Vivian shamelessly sticks out her hands and accepts this ball that is bigger than her. Jo tries to protest - though somewhat weakly as she realizes how quickly Vivian is getting attached to said ball and anticipating how much louder our kid is going to scream when the ball is taken away from her than all of the other kids at EZ's put together.
So we thank them profusely and Vivian is now a proud owner of some other kid's new toy. I try to moralize about it, but decide instead that I'm going to to hang out at Tiffany's tomorrow with Vivian. May be the same little girl will be there with something nice her dad just bought her...
Monday, January 07, 2008
All I want...two front teeth
All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth,
My two front teeth, see my two front teeth.
Around Christmas time, as Vivian's singing was not yet up to snuff, Jo and I sang for her to Santa or the Tooth Fairy or Amazon, or where ever front teeth come from. We are too cheap for guaranteed delivery by Christmas Eve, so on Jan 3, her order is partially delivered ("items in this order may be shipped separately"). She is now the proud owner of an upper right incisor that's in the process of fully descending. After 10 months and three weeks of being called a toothless midget, Vivian has taken care of the toothless part.
On that same day, I wake up in the morning and tell Jo that Vivian is going to walk today. Jo tells me that my Dad and I started saying that when Vivian was three months old. I've had a lot of practice so I can finally get it right today. Vivian is standing between Jo and me. I am on the floor. She is holding Jo's hands. Then she lets go and stands by herself for a few seconds (she is getting pretty good at standing). And then she takes two steps while holding her balance. Jo and I and Vivian erupt in cheers and hugging and high-fiving. Then Vivian gives herself a huge round of applause. I give Jo the I-told-you look. She rolls her eyes. And Vivian claps her hands again.
My two front teeth, see my two front teeth.
Around Christmas time, as Vivian's singing was not yet up to snuff, Jo and I sang for her to Santa or the Tooth Fairy or Amazon, or where ever front teeth come from. We are too cheap for guaranteed delivery by Christmas Eve, so on Jan 3, her order is partially delivered ("items in this order may be shipped separately"). She is now the proud owner of an upper right incisor that's in the process of fully descending. After 10 months and three weeks of being called a toothless midget, Vivian has taken care of the toothless part.
On that same day, I wake up in the morning and tell Jo that Vivian is going to walk today. Jo tells me that my Dad and I started saying that when Vivian was three months old. I've had a lot of practice so I can finally get it right today. Vivian is standing between Jo and me. I am on the floor. She is holding Jo's hands. Then she lets go and stands by herself for a few seconds (she is getting pretty good at standing). And then she takes two steps while holding her balance. Jo and I and Vivian erupt in cheers and hugging and high-fiving. Then Vivian gives herself a huge round of applause. I give Jo the I-told-you look. She rolls her eyes. And Vivian claps her hands again.
Life in camera
Last year I excelled at shooting blurry pictures of Vivian. I blame the crappy camera - a Cannon point-and-shoot that used to be the state of the art for point-and-shoots about the time we were on our honeymoon. I didn't realize how much I bitched about the camera and/or how much Jo loves me, but on Christmas day, I find a nicely wrapped box with my name on it and a Cannon EOS XTi inside. Thanks, Santa Ellen.
So I turn around and point the camera at Vivian and squeeze off a few blurry ones - much more expensive blurry ones. It is too dark or the kid is moving too fast. Or is it the wind? Till I pour over the manual and try out the different modes where I get to pick the ISO and aperture and shutter speed and white balance and all other kinds of shit, I can't expect much better.
Gordon comes over on Sunday for lunch and a photo shoot. Vivian is slightly cranky, so we keep it down and Gordon only gets about four hundred shots. And he gives me a couple of pointers. Gordon's pictures are great. He's posted 23 of them in Vivian's flickr album. Click here to see them. There's one where she is looking like she's plotting something quite evil. And then there are some lovely ones with Jo. And she's trying to chew my nose off in another.
Here's one I took that came out OK. Obviously a long way to go, but I think I know which end of the camera to point where...
So I turn around and point the camera at Vivian and squeeze off a few blurry ones - much more expensive blurry ones. It is too dark or the kid is moving too fast. Or is it the wind? Till I pour over the manual and try out the different modes where I get to pick the ISO and aperture and shutter speed and white balance and all other kinds of shit, I can't expect much better.
Gordon comes over on Sunday for lunch and a photo shoot. Vivian is slightly cranky, so we keep it down and Gordon only gets about four hundred shots. And he gives me a couple of pointers. Gordon's pictures are great. He's posted 23 of them in Vivian's flickr album. Click here to see them. There's one where she is looking like she's plotting something quite evil. And then there are some lovely ones with Jo. And she's trying to chew my nose off in another.
Here's one I took that came out OK. Obviously a long way to go, but I think I know which end of the camera to point where...
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
A New Year
Vivian - someday you will learn about a day and a year and the earth and the sun and why this one is 2008.
We went to Nicolle's. The pozole and the ham-and-bean soups were great. Slamming jager and Red Bull with the pastor was different. And my first wish for the New Year was for the dishwasher to be louder so it would drown out Greta's snores.
My worst new year's eve was in 1999/2000 - the infamous house arrest. Ugh. But the next day was the start of the new millennium - which I am happy to say has worked out quite well so far. My best new year's day memory is from 1988 (or around there). I sat on the roof of the rental car and saw the sun rise over the clouds and light up the Chisos mountains.
Happy New Year to all, and specially to you, dearest Vivian - your very first.
We went to Nicolle's. The pozole and the ham-and-bean soups were great. Slamming jager and Red Bull with the pastor was different. And my first wish for the New Year was for the dishwasher to be louder so it would drown out Greta's snores.
My worst new year's eve was in 1999/2000 - the infamous house arrest. Ugh. But the next day was the start of the new millennium - which I am happy to say has worked out quite well so far. My best new year's day memory is from 1988 (or around there). I sat on the roof of the rental car and saw the sun rise over the clouds and light up the Chisos mountains.
Happy New Year to all, and specially to you, dearest Vivian - your very first.
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