Our formerly public-loving baby, who'd never met a stranger, has entered a shy phase. It coincided, of course, with her daddy's departure out of the country and has become a great source of angst for the Japanese women all over the island who take great delight in hugging her, exclaiming over and stroking her sandy blond curls, cooing a word I can't spell which apparently means something like 'cute' or 'sweet'. Rather than leaning toward them with arms outstretched like she used to do, she now covers her face with both hands and peeks through her fingers with a coy little smile. It's cute and fairly flirtatious on its own, but heartbreaking to the child-loving Asian women here who beg to pick her up.
Thing is, this shyness has also extended to talking with grandparents on the phone and looking at their pictures. She's excited about it, but has to cover her face for some reason. This is understandable, but...
She's now even doing it when we're talking to John on the phone. Uh-oh. I'm somewhat concerned that, after missing him for a month, she's going to be kind of shy with him when he arrives home tomorrow. I know that he'll be very understanding of this, knowing that it's temporary and developmentally normal, but he's gone through enough in one lifetime. At least it was only one month. What would happen if it had been longer?
Being a military family is kind of like living with a ticking bomb. You know a deployment is coming at some point, and the longer you go without it, the more the reality looms. John semi-volunteered for one while I was pregnant since it would have been shorter than ones are now and gotten one out of the way before our child arrived. His colonel wasn't willing to let him go and nixed the orders, so to some extent, I feel like we're on borrowed time. I look at my friends and their families in other branches--Army, who are gone for eons; Navy, who are a special breed to be out at sea; and Marines, who need no explanation--and am in awe of their strength and courage. Love and prayers to them all.
Things will right themselves in time. John is the sun of this baby's world, and she won't be able to resist her hero for long.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Thursday, June 28, 2007
What's in a name?
Oh, you have to read this. http://online.wsj.com/article/SB118247444843644288.html?mod=most_viewed_day
Just when you think we haven't succumbed to enough silliness as a society, we now have baby-naming consultants. Don't get me wrong, it's a difficult and weighty decision, but paying a ton of money to someone to determine your favorite name's numerological vibe is, well, huh???
Naming a child makes planning a wedding seem like a walk in the park. You're saddling some innocent new life with something he/she has to carry through life, and you have to come to agreement with someone who may have a radically different view on the matter than you do.
We still didn't have a name when Emily was born. I'd brought up the topic several times throughout our pregnancy, but John kept saying how we didn't need to worry about it yet. Suddenly, at 36 weeks, he got a burr in his saddle about it and proclaimed that we had to come up with the list that weekend. (Not a moment too soon, as it turns out, since she decided to show up 3 weeks early.) I'd already made a tentative list of first and middle names based on things we'd tossed around over the years, but he had something different in mind.
Ever the enginner and electronics nerd, John came home with--I kid you not--an Excel spreadsheet. In and of itself, that didn't surprise me. The multiple pages with different iterations of the aforementioned spreadsheet did. He had various pages on which he'd matched the favorite first names with all the different middle names so we could see how they looked and sounded together. There were columns for his names (straightforward A, B, and C list) and my names (A, A-, somewhere between A- and B, B, B-, 'C-ish' list) and the names were given scores depending on where they were. X number of points for being on John's top tier, same number for my top tier, etc. Then they were given a combined score.
After that, though, he did the same with the middle names and made additional spreadsheets where he combined the names and it took a life of its own from there. The names wound up with various scores depending on how much each of us liked the first name individually, the first and middle together, the first and last together, and the whole shebang. However, these were then weighted depending on the relative importance. In other words, how much we liked the first and last name together was weighted more heavily than first and middle.
And after pages of spreadsheets and statistics, we wound up with... well, pretty much the same list I had sketched out in my laissez-faire, touchy-feely way.
While zipping up the Autobahn just before The Great Naming Weekend, I casually mentioned to John that, "I wish Eowyn were an actual name, you know? It's so beautiful, and she is far and away one of my favorite literary characters... strong, feminine, loving, brave." For anyone who knows John, this next part should come as no surprise, given his obsession with all things Lord of the Rings; watching the movies--extended version, of course--involves the use of the Tolkien atlases and other reference materials. After several quiet kilometers, he looked at me and said slowly and in a measured voice to carefully restrain his excitement, "Soooo... is that saying that you would consider 'Eowyn' for the baby?" How could I say no to that? Yeah, we considered it. Quite seriously, as a matter of fact. But I just couldn't do it to her, knowing she'd forever be explaining it and spelling it for people who were somewhat less obsessed with J.R.R. Tolkien.
But we still couldn't decide on a final one. We wanted to wait until we saw the baby and see which one of our short list fit. I'll post the story of her birth some other time, but suffice it to say I was not conscious for it and didn't meet Emily until quite a few hours later after we'd been stabilized. When she was finally brought to me and held where I could see her, I gazed at her face for the first time and waited for the light to shine, the angels to sing, and the epiphany to descend. It didn't, much to the consternation of the German hospital staff, who was shocked that the child had not been previously named or, for that matter, delivered on her due date.
We wound up naming our daughter Emily Grace, a name we had both loved since I'd had a dream about it while John and I were dating. But it was hard. With names like "John" and "Amy", I really didn't want to saddle my daughter with the most popular name for the last umpteen years. This frustrated me, because I've loved this name all my life. But we just kept coming back to this name for our child. And despite my hesitancy in naming my child a popular name, saying it throughout the day makes my heart sing. And I suppose that's worth quite a few points on an Excel spreadsheet.
Just when you think we haven't succumbed to enough silliness as a society, we now have baby-naming consultants. Don't get me wrong, it's a difficult and weighty decision, but paying a ton of money to someone to determine your favorite name's numerological vibe is, well, huh???
Naming a child makes planning a wedding seem like a walk in the park. You're saddling some innocent new life with something he/she has to carry through life, and you have to come to agreement with someone who may have a radically different view on the matter than you do.
We still didn't have a name when Emily was born. I'd brought up the topic several times throughout our pregnancy, but John kept saying how we didn't need to worry about it yet. Suddenly, at 36 weeks, he got a burr in his saddle about it and proclaimed that we had to come up with the list that weekend. (Not a moment too soon, as it turns out, since she decided to show up 3 weeks early.) I'd already made a tentative list of first and middle names based on things we'd tossed around over the years, but he had something different in mind.
Ever the enginner and electronics nerd, John came home with--I kid you not--an Excel spreadsheet. In and of itself, that didn't surprise me. The multiple pages with different iterations of the aforementioned spreadsheet did. He had various pages on which he'd matched the favorite first names with all the different middle names so we could see how they looked and sounded together. There were columns for his names (straightforward A, B, and C list) and my names (A, A-, somewhere between A- and B, B, B-, 'C-ish' list) and the names were given scores depending on where they were. X number of points for being on John's top tier, same number for my top tier, etc. Then they were given a combined score.
After that, though, he did the same with the middle names and made additional spreadsheets where he combined the names and it took a life of its own from there. The names wound up with various scores depending on how much each of us liked the first name individually, the first and middle together, the first and last together, and the whole shebang. However, these were then weighted depending on the relative importance. In other words, how much we liked the first and last name together was weighted more heavily than first and middle.
And after pages of spreadsheets and statistics, we wound up with... well, pretty much the same list I had sketched out in my laissez-faire, touchy-feely way.
While zipping up the Autobahn just before The Great Naming Weekend, I casually mentioned to John that, "I wish Eowyn were an actual name, you know? It's so beautiful, and she is far and away one of my favorite literary characters... strong, feminine, loving, brave." For anyone who knows John, this next part should come as no surprise, given his obsession with all things Lord of the Rings; watching the movies--extended version, of course--involves the use of the Tolkien atlases and other reference materials. After several quiet kilometers, he looked at me and said slowly and in a measured voice to carefully restrain his excitement, "Soooo... is that saying that you would consider 'Eowyn' for the baby?" How could I say no to that? Yeah, we considered it. Quite seriously, as a matter of fact. But I just couldn't do it to her, knowing she'd forever be explaining it and spelling it for people who were somewhat less obsessed with J.R.R. Tolkien.
But we still couldn't decide on a final one. We wanted to wait until we saw the baby and see which one of our short list fit. I'll post the story of her birth some other time, but suffice it to say I was not conscious for it and didn't meet Emily until quite a few hours later after we'd been stabilized. When she was finally brought to me and held where I could see her, I gazed at her face for the first time and waited for the light to shine, the angels to sing, and the epiphany to descend. It didn't, much to the consternation of the German hospital staff, who was shocked that the child had not been previously named or, for that matter, delivered on her due date.
We wound up naming our daughter Emily Grace, a name we had both loved since I'd had a dream about it while John and I were dating. But it was hard. With names like "John" and "Amy", I really didn't want to saddle my daughter with the most popular name for the last umpteen years. This frustrated me, because I've loved this name all my life. But we just kept coming back to this name for our child. And despite my hesitancy in naming my child a popular name, saying it throughout the day makes my heart sing. And I suppose that's worth quite a few points on an Excel spreadsheet.
Emily's Haiku
Yes, I know. My baby is brilliant. Since she is asleep early (we had to skip her nap, and she practically left a baby-shaped dent in her crib mattress a half hour ago), I have some very rare time on my hands and have been thinking about the trip Diana and I are planning to Japan. I went and tracked down some haiku she'd written when she was four months old. Yes, she wrote this in the throes of the gastroesophageal reflux (GERD), which flavors the subject matter. However, I notice that a number of these poems are still appropriate today.
So, without further ado, I present Emily's first artistic endeavors:
You change my diaper.
Thus it is time. I must have
Another big poop
She finally sleeps.
Carefully, she's lowered down.
Boink! Eyes wide open
You think I'm sleeping
Finally you'll get a break.
Ha! Tricked you again!
What is this I see?
I can use it to grab things!
Hey! It is my hand.
Mom and Dad cuddle,
A special time for themselves
Time to wake up now
My eyes are droopy
I rub them. But you are wrong
I am not tired
Hours of bouncing
Mom breathes a sigh of relief
Argh! She power napped!
Have found something new!
Fuzzy, silky, crinkly, soft
Must put in my mouth
Something is attached
I can feel it and move it
Mom says it's my hand
I can make a fist!
Shout, "POWER TO THE BABIES!"
I just love this hand.
Dad is so hopeful.
Baby sleeps, he makes his move
Poor guy has not learned
They plot against me
Parents rock, bounce, shh, and nurse
I must resist sleep
So very yummy
Such fun to stick in my mouth!
I love my fingers
Slobber on your hand
Drooling on you shows my love
Let me chew your wrist
Vast conspiracy,
Fate of world hangs in balance.
Must not fall asleep
So, without further ado, I present Emily's first artistic endeavors:
You change my diaper.
Thus it is time. I must have
Another big poop
She finally sleeps.
Carefully, she's lowered down.
Boink! Eyes wide open
You think I'm sleeping
Finally you'll get a break.
Ha! Tricked you again!
What is this I see?
I can use it to grab things!
Hey! It is my hand.
Mom and Dad cuddle,
A special time for themselves
Time to wake up now
My eyes are droopy
I rub them. But you are wrong
I am not tired
Hours of bouncing
Mom breathes a sigh of relief
Argh! She power napped!
Have found something new!
Fuzzy, silky, crinkly, soft
Must put in my mouth
Something is attached
I can feel it and move it
Mom says it's my hand
I can make a fist!
Shout, "POWER TO THE BABIES!"
I just love this hand.
Dad is so hopeful.
Baby sleeps, he makes his move
Poor guy has not learned
They plot against me
Parents rock, bounce, shh, and nurse
I must resist sleep
So very yummy
Such fun to stick in my mouth!
I love my fingers
Slobber on your hand
Drooling on you shows my love
Let me chew your wrist
Vast conspiracy,
Fate of world hangs in balance.
Must not fall asleep
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
This little piggy...
I succumbed to the pressure. Well, something had to be done. I needed an excuse to take a break from 24/7 parenting duty as well as a chance to have uninterrupted Girl Time with my wonderful friend here, Diana.
So we grabbed two babysitters (leaving Emily at Diana's house with the five--yes, five--boys) and bolted. It had to be quite the scene to see two mothers literally running out of the house while two of the six are melting down and trying to catch them. It's been a couple of years since I've been able to do this, and it's quite the Hawaiian thing to have fancy pedicures. At the recent squadron picnic, it became obvious that I was the only woman there, whether servicemember or spouse, who didn't have fancy toes. I got a lot of good-natured flak for that since I'm the squadron commander's spouse and apparently supposed to be polished. (Oh, please. It's a red-letter day if I get to shave my legs.) So I took that as a sign that I needed some pampering.
What cracks me up is the way we adopt certain expectations or customs of the culture we find ourselves in. Spending money on toenails just normally doesn't fit in with my fairly cheap nature, but every woman on this island gets pretty toes with little flower designs and bling-bling on 'em, so eventually you bend.
Well, much as I hate to admit it, I'm definitely feeling the Aloha spirit now. :) Amazing what quality girl time and charming toes can do for your mood. Even Emily is enjoying it, grabbing my feet with both hands and laughing as she tries to figure out why there are plumeria flowers on Mommy's toes.
So we grabbed two babysitters (leaving Emily at Diana's house with the five--yes, five--boys) and bolted. It had to be quite the scene to see two mothers literally running out of the house while two of the six are melting down and trying to catch them. It's been a couple of years since I've been able to do this, and it's quite the Hawaiian thing to have fancy pedicures. At the recent squadron picnic, it became obvious that I was the only woman there, whether servicemember or spouse, who didn't have fancy toes. I got a lot of good-natured flak for that since I'm the squadron commander's spouse and apparently supposed to be polished. (Oh, please. It's a red-letter day if I get to shave my legs.) So I took that as a sign that I needed some pampering.
What cracks me up is the way we adopt certain expectations or customs of the culture we find ourselves in. Spending money on toenails just normally doesn't fit in with my fairly cheap nature, but every woman on this island gets pretty toes with little flower designs and bling-bling on 'em, so eventually you bend.
Well, much as I hate to admit it, I'm definitely feeling the Aloha spirit now. :) Amazing what quality girl time and charming toes can do for your mood. Even Emily is enjoying it, grabbing my feet with both hands and laughing as she tries to figure out why there are plumeria flowers on Mommy's toes.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Winds of Change
The trade winds have returned. Oh, thank goodness. Hawaii, while paradise in many ways, is insufferably humid and sticky when the air stills, which it did for awhile lately.
But on our evening walk, we were able to play in the breezes coming off the inlet to Pearl Harbor. There's a large grassy park area just up the street where one can let a dog off-leash and run like a fool. Now, I'm no fan of running (while at the FBI Academy, I told them that I run either "after" or "away from"... i.e. if one of us has a gun, I'll run), it's infinitely more fun when doing so with a baby and a German Shepherd.
While playing with Azzie, I turned to find Emily laid flat-out on the grass, staring up at the sky. She was signing to herself--"moon", "cloud"--and gazing in delight at the azure skies. How does a child of one and a half know to do that? I went and joined her, which amused her to no end. We had such a great time enjoying the beauty of the sky and the setting sun, and stood with arms spread and faces upturned to feel the cool evening breezes over every inch of our bodies.
These are the moments it feels so good to be alive. Thanks, Lord, for giving me the chance to see it through a baby's eyes and to show her the value of soaking it all in.
But on our evening walk, we were able to play in the breezes coming off the inlet to Pearl Harbor. There's a large grassy park area just up the street where one can let a dog off-leash and run like a fool. Now, I'm no fan of running (while at the FBI Academy, I told them that I run either "after" or "away from"... i.e. if one of us has a gun, I'll run), it's infinitely more fun when doing so with a baby and a German Shepherd.
While playing with Azzie, I turned to find Emily laid flat-out on the grass, staring up at the sky. She was signing to herself--"moon", "cloud"--and gazing in delight at the azure skies. How does a child of one and a half know to do that? I went and joined her, which amused her to no end. We had such a great time enjoying the beauty of the sky and the setting sun, and stood with arms spread and faces upturned to feel the cool evening breezes over every inch of our bodies.
These are the moments it feels so good to be alive. Thanks, Lord, for giving me the chance to see it through a baby's eyes and to show her the value of soaking it all in.
Welcome!
Okay, so this is something I should have done long, long ago... at least before my baby was born. I'm troubled by all the memories and experiences that I haven't journaled or chronicled in any way, and I don't want that to continue. While I'm old-school at heart and value sitting down with pen and paper, that pretty much is a pipe dream while there's a toddler climbing on me. And a dog roughly the same age.
So, hopefully this'll be an opportunity to both grab some of those memories, lessons, and experiences as well as get back into the swing of journaling.
So, hopefully this'll be an opportunity to both grab some of those memories, lessons, and experiences as well as get back into the swing of journaling.
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