Back again

It has been another long break in the blogging action, in part due to more traveling, getting sick, trying to start going to work, and of course, the usual suspect – laziness.
But today, I decided to get back to it. It is a rainy day and I decided to stay home on account of, well, it is being rainy and of course laziness. It turned out to be pretty handy since my wife had a doctor’s appointment and so there was a role for me to fill. I guess some call that role “being a dad.”

So here I am being a dad – sitting next to Maya and writing a blog about being a dad. She is sitting in her bouncer and talking to her animals – toys hanging from the bar above her. Looks like she has a lot to tell them. And she is a great story teller because she does not just talk in a monotone voice, but uses a myriad of facial expressions and is moving all the limbs at once. And the animals are really paying attention. Well, two out of three – the crocodile still has his butt to her, but I think it is because he is on the guard duty today.

Sometimes I really think she should be the one writing this blog because she obviously has more to say then I do. I am guessing she is talking about how last night her parents had this disgusting smell to them (smoke from grilling) and she really hated that. And it really made her unhappy. But being a newborn, she did not do what many of us would do – go into your cave and plot revenge. No, she chose a much better mechanism, although much louder one as well, she just cried really loud. I guess children don’t start hating until they are older. Now they just cry. Watching a movie (Ghosts of Mississippi) the other day I learned that hating is a waist of time – most don’t know that you hate them, and the rest don’t care.

Oops, she really got into character telling her story and started crying again. But it ain’t no thing (as the say in “the wire”) – nothing that a careful installation of a pacifier can’t fix. Speaking of fixing, check out how amused she is when I clip her nails.

Watching the neurons grow

It is this time of life, my friends, and the neurons are growing. The connections are being made. I remember the story I heard from my math teacher about how complex our brains are. He said “think about 10 by 10 grid of dots and connect each dot with all dots next to it. The maximum distance to get from one dot to another is 10 steps, we have 100 dots, and a really messy picture. Now, the brain has about 100 billion neurons and the maximum distance is 8 neurons.” Now, I am not sure how they did the calculations, but I am pretty sure that some monkeys got killed in the name of Holy Science.

And this is the story I am thinking about when I watch Maya look at her hand while she is connecting those neurons. She is moving a finger and is recognizing that somehow if she thinks about moving her finger the finger moves. Although, it is probably more like “if I hear this pitch of “zzzzzzzzz” my finger moves, and if I hear that type of “zzzzzzzzz” my hand hits me in the face.” But it is absolutely fascinating to watch her becoming inquisitive and sometimes interested. She has been “studying” everything she sees for a while now. Particularly faces. But now she is starting to make those connections with her own body. I mean, imagine you wake up one day and there is this appendage next to you (if any of you experience it on a regular basis you really need to stop drinking gradually, get psych help, or marriage counseling). But then, after you overcome the first wave of nausea, you realize that you can actually control it. Well, not right away, but after some trial and error, you figure out a way to stop it from hitting you in the face and do what you want. Interestingly enough, the previous marriage analogy still works here.

Baby language and the false sense of security.

Some of you might have heard about Dunstan Baby Language. So here is how I understand this and you are welcome to waist your own time researching the issue on the web. She claims that she figured out what babies are saying and how based on the sounds they make you can figure out whether they want to be fed, or changed, or put to sleep, etc. Sounds like a great idea aside from the fact that I that it is not. What worse is that it gives you the false feeling of knowing what is going on and then you are insisting on what you think your baby wants while she might want something else.

To give you an example of how your baby might experience your attempt at using this new set of skills think about ordering food in France. Option one – you don’t know French, and although the waiter knows English he is not going to indulge you (probably because you are a guy, and are not making enough of an effort to fit in because you are not wearing a beret). But eventually you find a solution and just point at some lines on the menu. Option two – you have taken some French and in your well manicured French accent you are telling the waiter that you want a Caravan, while being absolutely sure that you are ordering a “Coq au vin”? I am pretty sure that the former option will get you some food, while the latter will get you thrown out.

Similarly, you might think that what your baby is telling you is that she wants to be burped (Eh sound), while she really wants to be fed (Neh sound). But since you are absolutely sure that you know her wishes because she TOLD you what she wants you are pounding on the back of a screaming baby until someone with less chutzpah or lower threshold for misery takes her away from you.

But don’t worry I have a solution. Since there are only five words in the baby language (According to Wikipedia page on the subject) you can eliminate the causes of discomfort scientifically – one by one.

Median Baby

Yesterday we had a two months appointment. They measured Maya’s weight, height, and head circumference, and in all three she was at the 50th percentile – what a well rounded baby. She also got her vaccinations, three shots in the leg and a shot of nasty my mouth, which she took like a trooper we bring her up to be.

Back in action

There has been a break in the blogging action due to a spike in the living action - we went to visit the in-laws in Texas. It was quite a spontaneous decision which stemmed directly from the fiasco of the Valentines Day dinner (see the last entry). The trip was great. Maya was traveling incognito (in the sling) and at the check in my wife was asked when she was due (“she is already out – wanna see?”). She was so quiet that the guy sitting next to us had no idea there was a baby there. How I know? He told us “I had no idea there was a baby here.”

A lot of people came to visit and tell us that Maya is very cute, pretty, beautiful, and so on. My wife’s friend, aka resident rock star, aka Paula, had quite a connection with her. Paula was tickling Maya which was rewarded with a smile, but when Paula said “I can teach you about bad things, like boys and drugs” Maya started screaming. Paula tried to correct by saying “Oh, I’ll teach you about good things like puppies and rainbows” but it was too late. The ghost of druggy boys was out.

We did take her to a bar on 6th street which is one of a must visit places in Austin. It is called Casino el Camino and it has the best burgers (3/4 pounder). Turns out that after the ban on smoking indoors bar are a very good environment for infants – it is laud and dark, and no one would care if you whoop your boob out mid sentence. What more, I got to destroy my father in law in pool (some of you might not know that he is a recovering pool hustler, Hawaiian shirts and all).

On the day before last we got to visit with Maya’s great grandma who is 93. It was great to se them together. I wish she will get to see my grand parents too. It was a long day for her with 4 hours in a car, but it was rewarded by an 8 hour break between feedings – personal best so far.

Clearly I cannot skip the bad news – Maya got really spoiled by her grand parents who held her and talked to her all the time and now she wants to be interacted with. But she really did mature on this trip and now she behaves like a real two months old.