Grow

“what’s our word for next year?” Stacey and I debate at the end of every year. I can’t actually remember last year’s word but I imagine that, caught up as we were in a great life transition we might have had one each week. But looking out I feel calmer for a change. We’ve had a challenging couple of years and we both feel the need for a little re-grounding, some space, some routine, some regularity.

And then I watch Maia, and I’m not so sure . . .

A few months ago I began to draw a mural on Maia’s bedroom wall – a Mexican collage design of fantastical birds, beasts fish and plants that will eventually cover a whole wall (and by the way what an exhilarating feeling to draw on a wall, free for a change from the constraints of a laptop or letter sized paper!)

One day as I drew, Maia asked to draw on the wall also. I dug out a big 4 foot roll of paper and taped it up and, with a bag of crayons in hand, I left her to it. How would she manage such a large page I wondered, large blank pages can be intimidating for the most inspired person.  And I got a big surprise! Maia took a huge and passionate leap and found her own inspiration for drawing, for creating, for storytelling.

And then last week Maia started pre-school, and we saw it happen again, another leap, but this time as a person. From the moment she walked in the door she was completely engaged, socializing, finding her rhythm, testing, and fearless in the face of everything new around her.

A child in your life challenges you, not only to face the moment to moment frustrations, to be a step ahead, to be compassionate at every moment, and to be engaged, but to be better, to be more, to question all the routines that comfort us.

To grow.

Best wishes for the year ahead from our family.

Big House

We have an excuse for being delinquent communicators. Almost a year ago Stacey, Maia and I found a home that we fell in love with. It was a shell; beams, insulation, pipes… everything exposed. It was the beginning of an epic journey, like giving birth.

As Stacey and I have grappled with the finer arts of negotiation, strategy, planning, patience, and more patience, and even more patience, Maia has watched and absorbed every moment. She has come with us on our weekly expeditions to the house to check on progress, to measure and plan, photograph and document. She’s become a regular with us at the local tile store, the kitchen showroom (where she has found the joy of opening each and every cabinet and drawer in the entire store), and Home Depot. Up at the house she has found delight in drawing in sawdust, getting covered in painters tape, searching through empty appliance and fixture boxes, eying tools, workbenches and buckets of bolts and cable.

What an experience—a life within a life. I often wonder about the impact on Maia as she’s watched us laugh, cry, panic, get frustrated, and fall asleep in front of her, all acted out at a much more intense emotional level than normal for us.

I remember a story my father told me of my grandfather who, wishing to bring his new wife all the way to India where he worked as a missionary, built a house within the church compound to give her a sense of home and as a place for his family. That house, where my father also grew up, was nicknamed the “big house.” In explaining our own transition to Maia we have found that nickname somehow fitting, filled as it has been with the promise of home for us all.

Last Friday, the day after we closed, we drove up to our new home listening to Maia in the back repeating “Going to Big House”. We followed as she excitedly climbed the front steps of the house and clambered through the entrance door itching to explore her new home, and we remember – ah yes, that’s why we did this.

Welcome to the Big House.

One

July 20, 2010

At this moment one year ago Stacey and I had just met Maia, in person, for the first time; it was an exhilarating moment that we still recall as if it were just today.

This first year of Maia’s life has passed quickly and yet, at the same time, has felt like an uncountable lifetime of experiences. It has been filled with so much joy, wonder, angst, and excitement, that it leaves Stacey and me speechless (and wonderfully exhausted).

So, without further ado, please join Stacey and me in wishing Maia the very happiest first birthday, and many many more adventures as she continues on into her second year.

Joy.

Jonathan, Stacey, Maia Skye, & Froot Loop

Daddy Practice

It’s been hovering in the periphery of my mind for some time—the knowledge that I too have succumbed to a daddy practice. I’ve been in denial for some months now, but the state of our wee blog only confirms the fact of the matter.

The phrase “daddy practice” is relatively new to me; I learned it a month or so before Maia was born from my yoga teacher.  At the time I was taking weekly yoga lessons; one day as I was leaving class my teacher asked whether I was ready to have a “daddy practice”? Perplexed, I replied with a blank stare. Apparently the phrase, more commonly used as “a daddy swing”, refers to the deteriorating state of a father’s golf swing once a couple has their first baby. And why?; because of the fact that new dad never gets out to play any more.

While I realized that Stacey and my routines were bound to change and evolve, I naively thought it unlikely that the state and frequency of my yoga practice could really deteriorate to that extent . . .

But, here I sit at 9.45pm in the evening, eyes drooping, recalling that I haven’t taken a yoga class for months. But on the other hand I love every moment I get to spend with my girls; I wouldn’t miss a second.

Let’s see -  in all those months you haven’t heard a peep from the blog, we’ve had new sounds & words, toothy smiles, teeth, giggles and chuckles, the worlds best growl, reading books together, testing gravity, commando crawl, cruising, first steps, second and third steps, leaning to wave, pointing, sand eating, being determinedly walked around to meet every other parent in the playground, hand to face eating (what a sight), and last but not least, a little hair.

If there was ever an excuse to let something slide, and for that something to end up in the realms of a daddy practice, then a baby must be the best excuse ever. And let me hope that by the time Maia can do her first hand stand, I can still do my own hand stand practice to share the moment and be upside down with her.

So, three cheers for a daddy practice way of life. The blog may appear a little less frequently, but don’t worry, Maia is working hard at life and we’re running alongside.

Remote Viewing

If you knew how many photos of Maia I have taken over the past 6 months it might make you pause, gasp, reel, or just shake your head. Your next thought would be to assume I spend every waking moment with Maia, camera constantly in hand.  But alas, during the week days my link to Maia and Stacey’s day time activities are remote, via e-mail and, more importantly for this little story, text messaging.

To keep me in-touch with the goings-on Stacey began, early in Maia’s life, to send me picture messages on her phone, quick little image/text snapshots. I soon found myself waiting for them so I could enjoy another quirky moment of the day. And so, though I may not be right there all the time those messages keep me tuned in and involved.

I’ve come to love the low resolution, non-fussy images and I get great joy in the succinct messages that Stacey taps in with each; “Out 4 a walk!”, “Just fed after a little nap & now another little nap…”, “Maia gets bored so we go 4 a walk”, “Rattle!”, “Mr. mirror!”, “Maia passes out during salsa dancing!”, “The little lady sleepeth”, “Tummy time fails… bootleg baby camp leads to sleep.”, “Tummy time… oy vey”, “Discovering cause & effect in the high chair”, “The carrot rice mixture failed”, “My miserable vampire”, “Peas!”, and my favorite, “she looks innocent, but I wonder if the outfit survived…”

In thinking about all this instant connectivity I’ve been reminiscing about how my family has dealt with separation from each other over the years, both in distance and time.  My dad would correspond with his parents by sea mail, at a time when letters would take weeks to find their way from an English boarding school to a church compound in rural South India.  Then when I was young my dad would send me postcards from his travels around the world, random images of hotels, aircraft, nature and so on.  These days, when communication is instant, I think we take for granted the ease with which we can stay in touch across the world on a moment to moment basis. But that’s the beauty of those camera phones that I’m just discovering, they are easy!

Cool Yule

Memories of winter holidays from my childhood are ingrained; a precious bubble of time full of family made rituals around the festivities of Christmas.  long walks; log fires; solving the Christmas puzzle; wrapping presents; unpacking and constructing the tree; smells of mulled wine, turkey, Christmas pudding, brandy butter and . . .  and . . . the waiting; the tangible waiting for Christmas morning when I would wake to spot the stocking at the foot of my bed with a balloon tied to the top, and couldn’t stay in bed long enough to get the day started. All this so we could get to the all important moment of truth – opening presents around the tree.

Back then, who’d have thought it could ever be different?  And now look where we find ourselves; Stacey and I, as new parents ourselves, creating those experiences for our own family. This holiday has been our first with Maia and, as you might expect, she was by far the largest recipient of gifts; from us, from her grandparents, and from generous family and friends. But it has been a number of other things that have kept our rapt attention this last week.

Maia wasted no time on Christmas Day vigorously tearing tissue paper from some of her gifts, definitely reveling in the sound and feel of the paper. The following day, Boxing Day, Maia kept us riveted by launching into some new sounds she’s been working on, that go something like this: “mmla ummla mlaammlla  mmmlaamlamlammmla  ummlamlmm mmla . . .”, and so on. The same day she also did her first complete roll from her back to her tummy; she’s not yet fluent but each day she spends time working on her grasp of  gravity and momentum!

Maia has been paying keen attention to our eating habits for some weeks now, and so we gave her first spoon, fork and bowl.  That’s right, we’re starting grown-up food!  We figured it was about time to give it a try to see how she enjoyed it.  She loves it!  We started on New Year’s Eve and have gone from half a teaspoon on the first day to almost a tablespoon now. I’m finding it completely surreal that I’m getting so excited about these things.

We’ve been truly blessed this year and the holidays have given us a wonderful moment to look back and enjoy the contentment, pleasure and joy that having Maia in our lives has brought.  I reckon that gifts don’t get cooler!

Shake, Rattle and Splash

It’s all happening here at Maia central.  Maia has discovered her feet; she is realizing they’re part of her and that they’re fun to play with. She is developing her hand skills and constantly touching and holding and squeezing whatever comes her way; and Maia has gained supreme experience in the art of chewing and sucking . . . anything.  What else . . . , oh, noise making! Maia has been feverishly exploring her sounding skills. She yip yips and coos, but most impressively, she can growl, like a TIGER!

It was about five weeks ago when she first consciously took hold of a toy that I held in front of her.  The other day as she lay in her rocker, she looked over to her toy basket, reached out with her hand and grabbed one of her crinkle toys, which she then pulled to her lap so she could chew on it.

Maia is a watcher and her focus is intense on just about anything she looks at. Whether it’s static like the pattern on a woven basket, or animated like the expressions on people’s faces, she will bring the same level of concentration.  She certainly has her favorites though; our living room fan, the Ficus tree, the view outside the corner window, the pillow embroidered with birds, Clemantine (a crocheted orange bird that hangs above her crib). And let’s not forget the touchy feely sensations; it seems we have a water baby too. Maia loves, loves, loves bath time!  In the bath she continuously waves her arms and legs wildly to make the water splash and spray. It reminds us that every little thing she experiences, active or not, is really her first set of experiences, and so she is highly sensitized and tuned in to every moment.

I realize that most of these experiences which for Maia are so mind expanding, have long since ceased to hold our attention as adults; we’ve learned the ropes and treat much of it without a second thought. I can’t think of how many times I get to the end of my day and wonder where it all went.

Watching Maia experience the world around her with so much fascination reminds me to pay attention and to stop and look around once-in-a-while.

Babies choose their parents

“Babies choose their parents”. . . was one of the first comments during Maia’s blessing ceremony that we held 3 weekends ago. The belief originates from ancient Hindu philosophy, and it’s intriguing to think that Maia was in our lives long before we knew about it; that on some cosmic level she had scoped us out and figured that, based on our two lives, this was where she needed to be.  Hurrah!

We have a beautiful book at home, “Blueberry Girl”, that I read to Stacey’s belly before Maia was born. It’s a poem written to honor a baby not yet born, and to celebrate the myriad of adventures and challenges that as adults we know she will encounter along the way.  I read from it at Maia’s blessing. We felt it evoked the sentiment of our hopes for Maia as she grows and the sense of joy, freedom, exploration, excitement and complexity that we want to share with her.  Our world is a magical place and it is that sense of magic and wonder we want to inspire in Maia.

And so Maia’s blessing was a welcome to the world, an opportunity for her to be surrounded by a few of the many individuals who we share our lives with, and who will continue to enrich the journey the three of us will take in our lives. We gathered at Stacey’s parent’s home where our dear friend Betty, who married Stacey and me, kindly created and led the ceremony. Buddy & Amellali, Maia’s godparents, were also both with us. Maia wore my own christening gown, recently unearthed from my parents loft.  We celebrated with rosé champagne (who says I don’t like pink!) and cake.  The cake, a traditional fruit cake, was made by my sister Nina . . . for our wedding twelve years ago! English tradition notes that a couple should save the top layer of their wedding cake for the baptism of their first child; so we did!  It was amazing!  We do think that the bottle of Brandy it was originally infused with was a key factor, as well as the space in the freezer, generously donated by Stacey’s parents!

It was a time to respect and acknowledge the past, to celebrate the present, and to initiate our collective journey into the future. It’s not often we have the opportunity to consider these phases in context of one another and I realize that, for myself, having that context is what brings a sense of perspective. It gives us a moment to regroup and recapture that magic and wonder, and to remember what we’re in it for.  I think we choose our parents for a reason, and though it can take a lifetime to figure out, well . . . that’s part of the adventure.

Cold Breakfast

Eating is such a pleasure! It is the event that intertwines the history of our entire relationship.  As our lives together have taken twists and turns so has our interaction with our food, and so it has in some abstract sense become an indicator of the state of our lives. Lots of time wandering the Union Square farmers market and cooking together in the evenings is our idea of bliss; eating out a lot or stocking our freezer with ready-to-go meals is survival mode.  We’ve always found these sways give insight to the pace and stress of our lives, so it’s quite odd to find that at this time of huge transition and evolution (a time of higher stress) we should be eating most healthily (finding time to think about food and the focus to prepare it).  Or is it so odd? Our focus on food has become rarely focused as it now revolves completely around Maia and her health and well-being.  However, while we still find time to focus on our food and its preparation, we have yet to master the skill of eating . . . together, and while our food is . . . hot!

It seems that, most often, Maia gets hungry just as we put food onto our plates, and so, we typically wait for Maia to finish nursing while watching our hot breakfast slowly cool. We discovered early on that tepid tea can be okay at a stretch and that cold beef stew isn’t so bad after all; oatmeal can pass if we eat it before it’s stone cold, and cold eggs are, well, still eggs!

We were gently settling into this reality when, at about 4 weeks old, Maia became very rashy, all over her head and body. In our first parental panic our pediatrician set us up with a wide swath of creams, steriods, anti-fungals, allergen and blood tests, and, most impactful, requested Stacey formula feed Maia until they could figure out the cause. We removed all possible allergens from our diet. Needless to say the coordination effort and disconnect in feeding Maia formula instead of breast milk almost did us in! During this formula period Maia calmly took to the bottle, and to her daddy feeding her. It really sunk in for me how intense the bond is that forms between a mother and child around nursing, so it was thrilling that I could feed her for a few days. I’m looking forward to when Maia starts experimenting with solid food and I get to cook up mushy peas and carrots, apple sauce, and other pureed delights.

After ten days and sage wisdom from Maia’s godfather, we stopped everything; it was all getting too much. Maia is nursing again and, having cut out all potential allergens while formula feeding, Stacey and my diet is starting to get back to normal also.  We’re eating fish and milk again with no reactions from Maia, and re-introduced eggs yesterday – looking good so far!  Maia is back to her former beautiful baby self, with no rashes anywhere!

Realizing the potential impact of our food choices on Maia’s health has been an eye-opener and forcefully reminded us about taking time and paying attention to what we’re eating, both for Maia’s health and our own.

And cold eggs are still tasty . . .

The wakey wakey dance

Maia’s interactive daily activities aren’t extensive at this stage in her young life, consisting mainly of eating, sleeping, pooping and peeing.  There are however, a staggering array of developmental processes in progress which leave us in awe, even though many of them are far beyond our understanding.  The cross-eyes, the animated alpha states, the scrunched faces, the reflex actions, the crying; are all part of our baby’s brain and body working hard to finish up the “pre-flight checks” that began while she was still in utero.

So, where am I going with this?  Well, one activity that never ceases to make us stop in mid-track and gawp, is Maia’s waking up dance. This elaborate process (which I should add she is acting out right in front of me at the moment) can last anywhere between 5 and 15 minutes. It begins from a fully inert state and ends with the cry for food while performing a series of hand to face gestures that is unmistakably “I am hungry; now!”

Having watched this dance many times now, we have begun to recognize a vague pattern of ‘poses’ that Maia cycles through and always thought of it as a dance of sorts (imagine a blend of disco, salsa, ballroom, tango, and morris dancing). However, the other day a friend visited and, seeing the dance, reminded her of the practice of  yoga and the idea of the Asana postures, which are essentially meditation positions . How peaceful the world would be if we all took the time to wake up so un-hurredly, calmly, and thoughtfully.  Like the practice of yoga, this ‘meditation’ of postures sets the tone for Maia’s time awake and, to be honest, she really is calm, and peaceful . . . most of the time.

So, take a look at the photographs.  I can’t promise there’s a downward dog in there, but maybe it can provide some incentive to slow down a little in those ‘in between’ moments; they really are precious.