Pictures of Alex

It's been a while since I've had the will or inclination to write about Dear Alex - It's summertime and the living's been busy - not so easy, and there's been so much to do both in work and in life that it's been very hard to find that small quiet place that it takes to wax philosophical about being a daddy and the awesome responsibility of marshalling the force that Dear Alex has become - so instead, I take pictures.

In the way back time before there was Dear Alex (and even before Beautiful Wife) I took a lot of pictures, pictures by the thousands from the early days of digital photography - I have a box somewhere of hundreds of floppy disks from my first (and second) Sony Mavicas and more from smaller, sleeker, faster cameras that came next - I pride myself on being able to not only identify the place and time and even my state of mind when I took the picture - I'm mostly a visual person, and it does work - mostly. BW used to give me a hard time about the pictures, my "art director shots" as she rightfully called them - and I certainly did take a lot of random pictures, mostly of things that caught my eye, or in some way reminded me that I should always remember to look - because in life it's rare that we ever pass the same way twice.
Dear Alex has given me the perfect excuse ( and BW no longer coments on the ever-present camera) to take pictures madly, exuberantly, and without a care as to what it looks like. Secretly though, I take pictures in the hope that I'll remember the little things and important things in equal measure as Dear Alex becomes less cute and novel and becomes more and more a child, and that magic and wonder is lost to the day-to-day realities of pre-school and education and potty training and...

So, at least once a week - even whan I haven't had a word to say, I've been adding pictures regularly to the flickr photoset (hoping, of course, that each one will be worth a thousand words), and I'm hoping that really does capture what's new and important to daddy and Dear Alex - the analysis and philosophy will have to come later, as there's way too much to do before the summer's over to think about it too hard.

Stuff of dreams

Dear Alex has been growing by leaps and bounds, and she's been having a lot of wonderful experiences lately - but even the day-to-day stuff is very important to her, and it's coming out in her monologues and dreams. The monologues have been going on for quite a while - for a few months Dear Alex almost always started the day early (for us - say, 7:30 am or so, but she didn't demand that you participate - she would simply talk to herself and her friends in the crib for a while before she noticed that she was wet, hungry or alone. She would have a great conversation with herself and her stuffed animal friends, mostly unintelligible, and punctuated with a laugh or squeal, and a recitation of the things she's done recently - "Alex up and down, bunny bunny mmm,waaah! (that's an Alex air kiss), it's okay, walking sandbox fountains! Tricycle shoes daddy!
It's almost as though she was rehearsing the words and language that she was going to use during the day, and experimenting with the sound and feel of saying things. It was kind of a fun game for Beautiful Wife and I to figure out what she was talking about, and what those murmurings over the baby monitor meant. She certainly was having fun, and it's been delightful to listen to.

Fast forward to the past few weeks - as her verbal and cognitive skills have increased, the dreamy delight of her morning conversations have given way to more urgent and specific calls for "mommy and daddy! change diaper cup of milk! change diaper! cup of milk! Mommy here daddy here!" It begins as a murmer and builds to a tirade of angry need - that sounds a bit negative as I write but that's not my intention - Dear Alex is nothing but sheer delight, and it's been interesting to listen to her find and use the words for what she needs. As the words come easier and more clearly, it's been gratifying to listen to her remember and talk about the things BW and I do with her, and how much of it sticks and gets played back as she grows.

The haunting

I've gone on a great lengths about the intelligence and wonder of Dear Alex, to the point that I'm almost sick of writing about it myself (hence the sparseness of postings of late), but more and more of late Dear Alex will do or say something that completely surprises me, and gives me a clue that this being a father/parent thing - while rich and rewarding - will also have moments that truly humble me and break my heart.

On Wednesday morning of this past week, we had the usual bustle of getting Dear Alex up and Beautiful Wife dressed and out the door, and for some reason on this day I was moving a little slower - BW got out the door first after nanny J. arrived, and I did my usual walking back and forth gathering things and finding wallet, keys, phone, computer accessories, etc. . The kid was a little on edge anyways, asking for "mommy, mommy, mommmmmmy", and accepted only sketchily that "mommy went to work". That was okay, more or less, but Dear Alex saw my briefcase - "daddy work, daddy work" - and me getting ready to go, and she kind of lost it, and came out with the line that's haunted me for days: "Daddy (snuff) work Alex crying daddy (snuff) work Alex (sniff, sniff) crying". It stopped me in my tracks: Daddy work = Alex crying.

Yeah, I guess she wanted me to stay and play with her for a while, but I had some storyboards that needed finishing, and a print ad to revise and I was already late - and what's a daddy to do?
I had to go, and had to hand this beautiful child off to Dear nanny J. despite my desire to stay and hold her and comfort her and let her know that there was nothing else in the world that I would rather be or do than be her daddy always, now and forever and that I'd never leave her.

Guess what? I left. The ugly reality of life is such that I did indeed have to go to work, and unless I hit lotto big time that's not likely to change...

I wondered and wished for the longest time that Dear Alex could tell us what was bothering her when she was upset by something, and I guess my wish came true, but the first instance of her new associative skills really got to me - I've been thinking about it for days, in fact. It turns out that all was just fine when I got home, and we haven't had a repeat of that particular complaint, but I know now that I do wish I could spend more than the the three or so waking hours a day that we do have together. It all counts, and I do try to make the most of it, as does BW. I wish it weren't so hard, and I wish we could make every day a Saturday.

The name is Alex

This started a few weeks (maybe a month?) ago, but Dear Alex finally figured out who we were referring to when we said "Alex" - none other than the dear girl herself. It started around the time I started putting more pictures of her up on flick'r, and playing them for her on-demand, as in her sitting in the high-chair, pointing at the computer, and saying "picture picture". That's what she knew the computer as, as really that's all it was for in front of her - her generic term for computer for the longest time was simply "picture picture" - but it's since evolved*. We'd show her pictures of Alex, and pictures of mommy and daddy, and pictures of things, and a dumb little powerpoint alphabet that I made - but one day she asked for "pictures of Alex" - Now she narrates her life in the third person - "Alex goes for a walk outside, Alex hiding" - and rushes me when I take out the camera to see "pictures of Alex". It's getting harder to take her picture.

So, the newest challenge that I have is how to teach Dear Alex the difference between "you" and "me" when she's referring to herself - It's something I've never really though about before - when do we come to that distinction, and how do you teach it? ( I tried Strunk and White, but they presume a more advanced reader) When she's tired of walking, Dear Alex will say "daddy pick you up? mommy pick you up?" - of course we pick her up without fail, but just exactly how does one explain the difference between "you" and "me"?
(cut to daddy gesturing - "I am you, you are me, when you are referring to yourself" - Dear Alex stares blankly, sucking her thumb. )
(cut to daddy gesturing - "you should be me when you mean you" - Dear Alex stares blankly, sucking her thumb. ) it goes on.

*Dear Alex now refers to computers (at least the ones in this house) as "apples" - for the never ending little grey (platinum?) apple with a bite out of it that she sees as she waits impatiently
for the pictures of Alex to appear.

Looking out

Sometime over the last few weeks or so, while I wasn't writing, but mired in work and the usual day-to-day of getting by, Dear Alex crossed some kind of oh-so-subtle line in her growing awareness of the world. I don't think there's a word or classification for it, but there's been a change that happened so slowly that there isn't one thing that I can point to and go "aha!"
It's another subtle shift in her intellect, her curiousity, and her take on the world. I have no idea if this is something that's codified as a growth stage, or if it's just something that I'm getting hung up on - the kid switched from inward-looking sponge to outward-looking person - I'm doing an awful job of explaining it, but it's like this:
Walking down the street used to be an exercise in her gesturing madly - "this?, this? this?" as you patiently explained that that was a "building, tree, flower, garbage truck," etc., ad infinitum, as there are a lot of things to name in the city. - Dear Alex suddenly seems to know she knows things, and is more than happy to point things out with glee, and tell you: " bus, truck, people walking on the sidewalk" and everything else - but this goes beyond that - the kid will look you in the eye, and tell you something, seriously - no matter that I can't understand what she's saying, it means something to her - and she's earnestly trying to share it. ( Beautiful Wife is actually much better at deciphering what she's saying than I am, much to my chagrin ) All I can do is smile and nod. But the sponge that was Dear Alex is finally over-saturated, and the knowledge is leaking out in words and phrases that I know she's taken great care to form and share. It's exciting, and (sorry) heart-warming because the all-absorbing-sponge is also starting to give back affection and interest in mommy and daddy. (as opposed to being aware of only Dear Alex) This is an incredibly lumpy post for a truly amazing on-going experience, but It kind of came to me as I came home from work tonight and ran into BW and Dear Alex outside, and the kid stopped what she was doing, and ran to me (in that funny bouncy toddler way) and gave me an expert hug. Welcome home.

We're okay, daddy's just lazy.

I want to assure anyone who happens to find this dusty back-water of the internet by accident or on purpose that Lil'screamie hasn't been abandoned - It just seems like the "daddy story" post, some ugly advertising business and spending almost all of my waking hours at a computer screen - not by choice but of necessity, has taken a lot of the fun out of sitting at this computer in the wee hours trying to think of something new to say. It turns out that it's easy to find things to say with Dear Alex and her amazing progress in the world, but how many ways can you say "She's so cute" and "she's so smart" without boring yourself and any reader to numbness?

Perhaps it's simply to write as I originally thought, about what it's like to have this incredible responsibility and love that simply overtakes everything in your life and teaches you humility and patience and how to be amazed again by little things. I wrote about "mindfulness" a while back and why it's important to keep track of the little things about her development (oh, such a clinical word for such a miraculous thing) and the things that Beautiful Wife and I do with her and for her amusement and delight, (and ours, too, as it turns out) and I didn't keep up with my own hopes for that - there will be some gaps, and I'm feeling as though if it's not written somewhere, it's lost in the ever-changing now. I want to make note of the sweet moments, and the odd stuff that we do to keep Dear Alex and ourselves entertained and educated, like this:

We came back from the country early on Sunday, mostly because Beautiful Wife and I were feeling guilty about taking Friday off and we wanted to get a head start on worrying about the week to come, so we had a bit of the afternoon to kill. BW suggested that we take Dear Alex to visit a firehouse so that Dear Alex could see a "firetruck" up close. It's an amazing thing to do with a kid. All our child knows of firetrucks is the loud siren and horn and lights as the great beasts roar up the avenue past our apartment, all thunder and light - she never fails to shout "firetruck!" and point as they pass - so, we put the kid in her stroller and set out to find our local station, and found it easily. Holding her up to the windows in the great red garage doors made her point and squeal with happiness - "two firetrucks in the garage". It only got better when one of the firemen invited us in - It stuck me that the fireman was more than happy that anyone took an interest in them and what they did, and he was more than happy to open a door for show and tell. (The NYFD guys are truly great, and I am in awe of their service and how genuinely nice they are.) Dear Alex was stunned speechless. Two sleeping giants in this great garage, up close and shiny and red and real. She loved it (and recovered her speech later - "two firetrucks in the garage!!") - this is one that she'll remember.
I'll remember it, too, because having a toddler with you can open doors and give you a point of view that you would never even think to think about - what other reason on earth would motivate anyone to visit a firehouse in New York City on a late Sunday afternoon, and feel so good about having done something so simple, yet so grounding?

A daddy story

I took a break from lilscreamie - both mentally and physically - to take a trip to Florida to more or less close a chapter in my life that's been the hardest to deal with for the longest time. After almost two years of waiting and some inneffectual attemps at "getting something done" - my sisters and I are finally getting around to settling the matter of my father's very modest estate.

My mother passed away in early 2000, leaving my dad alone. It was an extraordinarily sad and difficult time, but we all got through it, as families do. My father lived quietly and well and finally came to enjoy himself again, walking on the beach and driving his convertible and occasionally making trips up north to visit me and the always Beautiful, but not-yet-Wife. He did get to see me married, and sometimes I think that was one of the happier days of his life - he loved talking about it, and loved Beautiful Wife. I visited occasionally, too infrequently, but when the timing worked, I'd take him flying - usually someplace relatively far away, for a breakfast in Sebring, FL or a lunch someplace north, just to get the hours in and share the delight with him, - he was proud of me, and it made me feel proud to make him happy. My father came from a time when men had short hair and nearly everyone (who was serious) wore a suit - I have a ponytail, and dress (for the most part) as though I'm getting ready for yard work or going into battle - and I work in advertising so I was always a little suspect. Over the years, we worked that out, and he really did get that I was doing something (he was never quite sure what, exactly) that would keep me and mine safe in the world. Once he figured out that I was going to be okay, we got along better and better - to the point that we actually enjoyed each other's company. I'm glad to be able to say that.












After several scares and some diet changes and my wedding and a visit or two to the undisclosed location, my father's heart finally failed him - he passed away in June of 2005, but not before he got to see an ultrasound movie of the squirming black and white blob that would be Dear Alex. I would that he had lived to see the wonderful child that she's becoming.

I write this because even though the grief has passed, it can be sad and hard to realize with certainty that this is the end of someone else's story, Cleaning out your parent's house - the accumulation of 50-plus years of life together, is an object lesson in the importance of living, and a cautionary tale about the relentless accumulation of things. All of it meant something to them, but it means nothing to me (save a nod to whatever significance it held for them) so what, objectively, am I to do with it? Let it go, I think, is the real answer. The artifacts that I've taken so far are simple and small, and will fit into the very different life that I expect for BW and myself. The largest and heaviest item by far is my father's toolbox - a bulky red craftsman thing with lots of drawers full of well-used hand tools - The sheer density of it, and it's weight say everything about how it feels to have it - I lived in awe of his ability to make and fix things, and I know now that I truly am my father's child by my constant urge to do the same. The toolbox, and a few other things I'm keeping don't begin to do justice to the life my parents led or the fun they had or the things that meant something to them.


I'm tempted to start labeling the boxes of things that BW and I have collected in our (relatively) short time together - "this box of maps and these rounded rocks are from a time before you when we were young and in love and we travelled British Columbia and walked on glaciers and rode in convertibles and rode motorcycles through rainstorms and flew airplanes for the joy of life and sharing our passions and this is how we lived - and we did, and this proves it."

That narrative and context is what's missing for me now, though it's possible to piece together a lot of life and little adventures from what my parents left behind, things I remember (the green caddy convertible, endless days at the beach... ) and the stories they told. but mostly it's a sad business, and the opressive heat and relentless humidity and the fecundity of south Florida takes it's toll - their once well-kept home is overgrown by vines and mold and it's pretty clear that there's really no one home, ever again.

Happy mother's day

To any and all that might check in. Dear Alex has the best and most caring mother, who keeps surprising me with the deep love and joy she takes with our wonderful daughter. She makes it look so easy, and she really makes me laugh. Special thanks to Grammy for raising such a wonderful daughter, and for having such great love and care for our Dear Alex. I would that my own mother were still alive to know this great kid, and to know that she taught me well - and I hope to do as well for my delightful daughter as she did for me.

Mommy motorcycle

Recently I've been putting up a lot of photos on Flickr - new sets under constant revision - not pix of Dear Alex, but pictures for her. It's a great entertainment for her, and she has a real fascination with the world and things in it - and it's even better if mommy or daddy are in the picture. So, for her delight I've been adding images from our collective past - a time before Dear Alex - for her amusement and delight. The "mommy motorcycle" picture is the one she asks for by name, and I have to admit that it's one of my favorites as well - though it bears no relationship to our everyday lives. Dear Alex loves the pictures, and for some reason, I love them too - it's a reminder, of sorts, of how we got here - and what we hope to share with this beautiful child. I haven't flown a plane since she was born, and BW hasn't been on a motorcycle since we were married - but I will, and she can, and we have pictures to prove it.

Producer in training part 2

Just like Beautiful Wife, Dear Alex loves her telephones -
And what could be better than one phone? Two telephones!
A scene I've witnessed many times on the job with BW.

Producer in training

Dear Alex had a busy Saturday - A long walk down Park Avenue, and a visit to Beautiful Wife's office ("mommy office mommy office steps") where she had the chance to wander about, turn the lights on and off in the conference room, and sit in the seat of power - she's a natural on the computer, and she certainly knows how to get people to do things for her - immediately.

Beautiful

A moment of Dear Alex and Beautiful Wife together.
The little black ribbon just kills me.

2:00am

Dear Alex woke up in the middle of the night tonight, Something that she hasn't done in a long time, and as I was awake and working (the work thing again) I sort of tried to ignore it, but at the same time, her apparent dissatisfaction with the world matched my own, so I kind of felt her angst - and felt compelled to respond. It's a rare thing to be able to so surely comfort someone as a crying child in the middle of the night - I took her out of the crib, and held her and changed her diaper and did nothing more than rock for a while, repeating "It's all okay, I love you and mommy loves you and the world is yours" - Ten minutes later Dear Alex is asleep on my chest, and I have to conciously tear myself away to go back to work. I would that I could have done a repeat of the early months with her and simply fallen asleep to wake in the morning with the wonder that she hadn't fallen out of my arms to the floor. It was a moment of remembering the sleepless care and love that we all could use every once in a while. I needed that hug tonight, and without even trying Dear Alex came through.

Alex at work

Work: It's what we do, and some days it's harder than others, and some days it's pure joy - a concept clicks and an idea sells and all is right with the world. Every day, though, it's harder to leave Dear Alex - even in the capable and loving hands of nanny J.
Recently, Beautiful Wife took Dear Alex to visit at the office - a nice day for BW and the kid, with pizza in the boardroom and lots of new things to see and do and people to interact with, and even a baby friend born of a co-worker of BW at around the same time - Dear Alex had a good day at the office, and came back with the words "office" and "steps". She loves the challenge of stairs - always has - and the office in question has a grand internal staircase spanning three floors - that she climbed repeatedly "up!" and "down" - surely exhausting for Dear Alex and BW, but somehow apropos to the endless ups and downs and the true nature of work, especially in advertising.
What this is all about really, is assuaging the guilt that goes with working for a living while wanting to celebrate every waking moment of your beautiful child - we go away for most of Dear Alex's day - to do what she can probably only imagine as endlessly climbing stairs.

Sooooo right.

Smile

A much nicer day than it looks, a great time playing in the sandbox and trying out new ways to delight. That smile says it all.

Moon motorcycle airplane boat

Lunch outside - smiles all around.




Some of the words from Dear Alex this weekend, that truly surprised and delighted - it's as though she knows all about me, and which buttons to push (in a good way, of course) to get even more love, affection and attention. Every once in a while you have an experience that transcends your expectations, and the genuine surprise and delight that goes with that can transform your outlook.

Moon:
This weekend was like that - low expectations and energy at the start, with both Beautiful Wife and I having had some long weeks, this weekend was an unexpected delight. It started with the trip to the undisclosed location on Friday night, with the usual ritual of bath and bedtime for Dear Alex then the quick trip to the car for the night drive to the house. She didn't really do her usual fall-asleep-in-the-carseat, but instead stayed awake, to watch and comment on the drive and the beautiful crescent moon following us as we drove. Dear Alex was delighted to point out the moon as it came and go behind buildings as we drove. - "Moon, Moon, bye-bye Moon!" BW and I took joy in telling Dear Alex that the moon would follow her wherever we went. There was the usual flurry of activity as we got there and put her in her crib at last, to sleep, then a remarkable peace. It hit me that the house wasn't cold, there was no desperate rush to get the place warm enough for the girl or ourselves - maybe winter is over.
On Saturday, we stayed outside for the whole day, aside from the two hour nap - Dear Alex loves being outside - to the point of calling "outside, outside" at every opportunity, and rushing the door at every chance. I'm more than happy to oblige - the outside thing is my world with Dear Alex, and it makes me feel like I'm actually doing something for her development - the intricacies of navigating uneven terrain, the textures of dirt and leaves and trees and stones and the pointing out of the obvious and subtle cues of nature - things that I love and want to share with her - It's my own way of giving her the world.











Daddy's oooowotercycle, wow.

Motorcycle:
I had the chance during naptime to take the motorcycle out for a bit of a ride and I surely enjoyed it, though I must say that it's been so long I forgot a lot of the "muscle memory" that makes it easy - it was akward at first, but I do remember the laws of physics that make it work
and after a trip around the lake, I was ready to go - the ride was short, but it did remind me a lot of other times and other rides and the way it feels to just go as though there was nothing else in the world - but always, of course with the ever present now of Dear Alex, and how and when I could share it with her -
Dear Alex has a morbid fascination with daddy's motorcycle. It's the "oooowootor cycle! wow! She likes to look at it, will say "motorcycle" (in her funny way) but she won't go near it, or let daddy get on it. If you put her down near it, she'll go up to it and touch it, then scamper away as though she's daring herself. Kind of funny, but of late she's continued the fascination, and will notice a bike parked on the street with the same fervor - I wonder what she thinks.
Airplane:
Another Saturday afternoon treat, that started for me as a low rumble - the sound got my attention, and it was the familar and unexpected sound of radial aircraft engines that grew louder and made me and Dear Alex look up for the source - three WW2 era twin-engine planes in close formation flew low overhead, prompting an exclamation (uncoached) from Alex - Aaapane! aaapane! Who taught her this? She now knows what an airplane is, and will point one out whenever she sees one, without prompting - "aaapane!" This causes me great joy, and I dearly hope I live well long enough to take her flying someday.














Dear Alex tries on the fabulous lifejacket -
or, "ifeacket" - Like me, she likes any sport that requires an outfit.











Boat:
Another new Alex word, and something that we could readily demonstrate - after a trip to the local Wal-Mart where we scored a perfectly wonderful toddler-sized life jacket, BW and I debated whether we should take her out in the boat, and of course, delight won over our better judgement - On Sunday morning we should have been packing to travel home and/or cleaning up, but instead of doing responsible things we went for the immediate gratification of taking Dear Alex out for a ride in the boat - a canoe, really - plopping her in the middle, with daddy rowing as best as possible - Dear Alex was skeptical at first, but she really enjoyed wearing her lifejacket with flowers and took great joy in being on the water with mommy and daddy.

So, a transcendent weekend. The girl is a joy.

Upside down!

Dear Alex has a lot of new words - and she gets things very quickly. As part of her newfound understanding and experiments with the world around her is this exploration of the concept of the orientation of things - She really likes to turn her special Alex chair over, with the delighted exclamation "upside down!, upside down!" Then she climbs up the back - this has a visit to the emergency room written all over it, yet it's truly fascinating to watch. She already has the ability to turn the most-ordered room into a disaster scene in a matter of minutes, and this is one more skill in her portfolio of wanton chaos.

Gratuitous bath time pix

Dear Alex really does enjoy bath time.

Still growing

A favorite face - it may not be the most beautiful picture of Dear Alex, but it captures her personality of late perfectly - Beautiful Wife and I call it the 'crinkle nose' face. It's usually accompanied by a giggle or a squeal of delight, and it's Dear Alex's most profound expression of happiness. I live for that. BW and I got into a conversation this weekend about the nature of things lilscreamie, (not the blog, but the dear girl herself) and it's clear that she's developing quite a personality, and that she really is very smart - that's an easy and obvious self-congratulatory place to get to when talking about your own child, but the conversation was more about how easy it is to forget that she's still really a baby.

Dear Alex watches the world, and listens - and is now at the parrot stage with words - anything you say may and will likely be used right back at you later, sometimes recombined in funny ways. It's her way of trying things out, and it's delightful to get little glimpses of how her mind works. She's at turns questioning, serious, and declarative - and you really get a sense of her take on the world. The only thing that makes you realize that there's still a baby in there is those moments when something goes wrong, and Dear Alex doesn't yet have the words to tell us what's bothering her - or the patience or experience with the world to understand that whatever it is, it's not permanent. Our job, I guess, is to help her through the worst of those screaming moments with patience and reassurance, but we're still having a really hard time understanding what could possibly be so hard about going to bed or having a diaper change?

Keeping up

Dear Alex has been growing by leaps and bounds - and life has gotten so tremenously busy that it's been hard to keep up and keep track of her prodigious growth and progress as a human being, which after all, is what we're here for. (not me as a writer, but as a parent) There was something about the timing of the too-brief trip to Florida that brought home how much is going on with her daily, (5 straight days, including some very long ones) and how much being mindful pays off. I wrote a while back about her stage in language development, about jargoning and such, and now it's ancient history. She's a constant wonder, and It's so much fun to watch her try to make sense of things. Over the last few weeks she's gone from one or two words at a time to contextually (but not necessarily grammatically) correct three or four word sentences - and her enthusiasm for using her new words is a joy to watch - "gofora rideinda car" or the calls for "taxi, taxi" as we walk down the street never fails to make me smile. There's a thousand things just like that that I hope to be able to write more articulately about, and a thousand moments like that in the last few weeks that I hope I'll never forget as she grows and we move on to issues like pre-schools and serious potty-training. Tonight we had a moment like that - Beautiful Wife and Dear Alex took me out to dinner for my birthday(thank you!), we went across the street to the Outback (not for the quality of the food, but because it's easy and kid-friendly and I didn't feel like cooking) and we had a delightful meal - Dear Alex had broccoli and carrots and Daddy's french fries and BW's chicken and macaroni and cheese - the kid likes to eat. During the meal though, she started repeating "moon, moon, moon" and looking up. It took us a while to figure out what she was referring to, and it turned out to be simple - the light fixtures directly overhead were perfect half-circles of light, and they look an awful lot like the perfect half moon that's riding high in the night sky outside my window as I write.

A day at the beach

Well, not a day actually, but we had the opportunity to introduce Dear Alex to the ocean - a trip to the beach, about which the dear girl had mixed feelings. She loves water, and knows her tub, and the lake and can even say "pool" to describe the turquoise water she's gotten so comfortable in. The ocean was something else, something way beyond anything she's ever seen before - it kind of blew her mind. In true Dear Alex form, she gave it a chance, then decided that it was too much. We retreated to safety of the sand, where she ended up having a good time playing.
The beach has always been important to me for so many reasons, probably because I spent so much time there when I was young - It seems that so much of what I remember from my childhood was days at the beach - it seemed endless, playing in the sand, and all I really remember is the beach. I wonder how my parents did it, how they found the time to give me the time in the sand - I can only hope that I can do as much for Dear Alex. I know it's possible, and I so suddenly understand the value of time over 'things' - If I could, I'd spend a month building sandcastles with Dear Alex, just to help her understand physics and engineering and hydrodynamics and how to have fun.

In true Dear Alex form, an hour or so after she had rejected the beach as suitable entertainment, we couldn't stop her from walking back over and over again.

Travels with Dear Alex (part one)

Lil'screamie and family went on an all-too-brief vacation, a few days with Grammy and George in Florida. It was a more than delightful trip, and daddy got an awful lot out of spending 5 uninterrupted days with our ever-changing bundle of delight. First up was getting there - a bit of a departure from our usual care in scheduling travel times to coincide with naps or sleep, we decided to take a 6am flight - I don't think we'll be doing that again anytime soon. Actually, it wasn't so bad - Dear Alex handled the 4am waking in stride, the trip to the airport and through security very well - it was a lot harder on me, and Dear Alex never did go back to sleep. There is something about that early morning rising and the half-concsious bustle of getting to the plane that always puts me in a very different place - by the time I really woke up we were at 35,000 feet in the pre-dawn darkness - BW, myself, with Dear Alex between us, sitting comfortably as though this was something we did every day. For some reason, I couldn't really read, and spent a lot of time looking out the window as dawn spread, thinking about all of the times I've been on an airplane, traveling on business or to visit my parents when they were still alive, and that feeling of time-travel as the plane takes you out of the world you live in every day to some new place with different light and different air. Dear Alex got to climb on daddy and look out the window to see the pristine moon, and was moved to comment - "ish-a-moon, moon". We followed some other airplane for most of the trip south, and I was rewarded by an ever-changing dawn-lit view of a perfectly formed contrail of the plane ahead of us streaming past our wings. I wonder if the guys on the flight deck were having a little fun trying to stay in that little line of cloud.

Walking, walking, walking

Over the weekend, I took Dear Alex out for a longish walk - we wandered over to one of my favorite places - the Conran's by the 59th street bridge - I love to look at the hugely expensive and usually well designed stuff that has no place in our present life. It is, however, a good place to get great kid's books, and it's usually good for an hour or so of letting Dear Alex run around inside when it's cold outside. On this trip we stayed mostly outside as Dear Alex wanted to be "outside" (one of her new favorite words) so that she could walk around in the small park that's behind the store, and that's what this is about. One of the first things you learn (and keep learning) as a new-ish parent is patience - the patience to indulge your child the time and energy it takes to learn and obsessively do the smallest of things over and over again. This day it was walking up and down a concrete ramp, in every possible way. She'd start at the bottom, give a little shout of "up" and stomp her way up the ramp - at the top she'd turn around and give a little shout of "down" and she'd walk down the ramp, at the bottom, she'd turn around, give a little shout of "up" and stomp her way up the ramp - at the top she'd turn around and give a little shout of "down" and she'd walk down the ramp, at the bottom... repeat as necessary until you're freezing, and just a little over the wonder of it all - but for some reason, it doesn't get old - every trip had a nuance, a newness to her - she tried little tiny steps, big steps, a little shuffle, walking backwards (that was new to me) - and if you're paying close attention you get rewarded with watching that brand new brain working out how the world works.

I should point out that this entire walking exercise was an almost perfect repeat of the day before - she really is getting good at getting around.

First haircut

We stayed in the city this weekend, and one of the side effects of that was a little restlessness on BW's part - the need to do something with Dear Alex, so it was decided it was time for the girls first haircut - I was hoping to hold out until she had a little more hair, but BW won. Dear Alex took it like a champ - in fact, I don't think she really noticed. It may have been more traumatic to me. I kind of liked her wild baby hair, but I'm told that this will be better in the long run as more hair grows in more evenly to fill in the bald spots... She actually does look pretty cute.

Alex art

Untitled #782 - pigmented wax on paper. 2007

One of my favorite works in Dear Alex's ever-growing oeuvre -
part of her on-going gestural, action art phase. Note how the almost sculptural soaring forms of the swirls act as a delightful counterpoint to the rigid syncopation of the saw-toothed, aggressive scribbles at the lower right.

If she doesn't stop coloring on the sofa, I'm taking the crayons away.

Generations

It's a small thing, but very important to me - tonight we had the occasion of a family gathering - meaning, of course, a gathering of Beautiful Wife's family for a rememberance of their father. There's BW, her brother D., and her sister, T. - between the three families represented there are six adults and six children. We all gathered at Mr. Chow's on 57th street, and had a few drinks and dinner and talked about family things and skiing trips and the things that kids do, and somewhere in the course of the evening someone said "we're the next generation", meaning the we are doing what our parents did when they were raising us. It's a hard thing to describe. but it got to me in a way that I can't shake.
I come from a small family - Mom, Dad, sisters Tysh and Linda. All I ever really remember is that ideal nuclear family, with visits to my grammy (and her crazy chihuahuas) every once in a while. I'm so happy that Dear Alex will have a more robust family (too many aunts, uncles, cousins to count) to learn about and share life with - as I've said before, I'm a lucky man.
This goes on, of course, because family has become so very important, and it really is something to celebrate - I desperately miss my father and mother and wish that they could have known this wonderful child, and that she might have known them for the wonderful people that they were. Over time, of course, I will tell Dear Alex about them - her other grandparents - the ones she'll never know. That sounds a little bleak, I know, but this isn't really about that - It's more about family and what it means to know that you've got people that care one way or another what happens to you and yours. I've got that - from my sisters to my sisters-in-law to my brothers-in-law to my beautiful wife and the ever present Grammy and George, who baby-sat tonight so that we could have a family moment (without them).

18 months

Dear Alex at the doctor's office

Beautiful Wife, Nanny J. and I took Dear Alex to the doctor yesterday for the 18 month check-up. It's hard to believe that she's already 18 months old - those months flew by - it seems like nothing yet at the same time it's hard to imagine or even remember that there was a time before she existed. Odd concept, that.

Dear Alex is in great health, and was in great form for the wonderful doctor L.
(she cried through the entire visit - perhaps she knew that there was a shot coming) Alex weighed in at 24.2 pounds (with diaper) and is now all of 32.5 inches tall and growing like a weed. Most of the exam was just talking about her development, and I am proud to say that she seems to be pretty smart. Of course BW and I think she's a genius, but it's nice to have a disinterested third party confirm that she's got the verbal skills of a two-year-old. It was kind of fun enumerating her new words and her motor development (the climbing on things, her adeptness with crayons, etc.) Our excitement over her prodigious word skills was deflated a bit by Dr. L., who pointed out that in order for a word to count, it has to be recognizable to a stranger... Oh. You mean that "up-ca" (cup) doesn't count?
We know what she means, she knows what she means...

Are you smarter than a fifth grader?

This really isn't a lilscreamie post, but I don't think it's going to be possible for me to have a real thought anymore tonight - Beautiful Wife found a new television show that I think might portend the end of civilization as we know it - A game show - "Are you smarter a fifth grader?" Well, yes, I am - but the whole concept is enthralling: Get an adult and ask them questions that a fifth grader should be able to answer. (with a panel of fifth graders on hand) Fascinating, in an watching-an-accident-happen-in-slow-motion sort of way. What this says about popular culture sort of scares me, but I can't stop watching in horrified fascination - BTW, so far, I AM smarter than a Fifth grader. Can't wait for Dear Alex to be in a place to quiz me...

Missing Emma

Emma on the ottoman, with a rare guest appearance by Gracie.

I could go on a great length about what a wonderful cat Emma was, but I won't. What's stuck in my head, though, is expressing some of how weird it is to have to put a lot of the feelings away for the benefit of Dear Alex. Alex and Emma had a complicated relationship, to be sure - a little rocky at first, but eventually they became very close. It's a testament to Emma and her patience and affection that she suffered Dear Alex's early overtures with little scratching and nary a hiss. Alex learned a little bit about how to be gentle and kind and caring with animals, and was truly rewarded by Emma's acceptance of her elaborate kisses.
I truly feel bad for Dear Alex - she was down for a nap when I took Emma to the vet, out for the last time, so the girl never saw her go. I know that in time she'll forget, but right now she misses Emma, and a lot of it is heartbreaking. Alex calls for Emma at odd times - "Emma, Emma" and will sit on the couch next to me and pat the couch as I did so many times to let the cat know that it was okay for her to join us. Alex sometimes goes to the ottoman that Emma always hung around on, and just puts her head down on it - it was a favorite location for both of them - Alex could just bend down a little and be right at eye level to plant a big smooch on the cat. I think Emma actually liked it, and really did start hanging around with Dear Alex a lot towards the end, but well before she got sick. I don't quite know what to say to Alex about Emma - as it stands now, BW and I just say that Emma "went away", or that Emma's "not here".

They would have been great friends.

Rest in peace little Emma

Out for a walk.

Little steps

Over last week, the Undisclosed Location returned to it's former glory as the Fortress of Solitude, with about a foot of snow and Ice deposited on the landscape. For a brief shining moment, it's a compensation for the winter-that-wasn't, a reminder of the way of the winter Dear Alex was concieved. We played in the snow today, maybe more for me than Dear Alex, though she did enjoy herself - half the time resolutely pointing, and declaring the obvious - "schnow! Schnow!" We went out onto the lake, with Alex in her bathtub-become-sled until she'd had enough and gave the "up - up" call that indicated that it was time for her to move under her own power. The frozen surface of the lake is a wind-scoured mix of slick clear ice and stretches of wind-blown drifts and we walked for a while - there was nothing for Alex to hurt herself on, so I pretty much let her run (or walk in her funny little way) free. We played a little game of walk and follow. Dear Alex would walk, and I'd follow - with her turning once in a while to make sure I was still there - She got as far from me as she's ever been while out in the world, and it truly was a wierd feeling.
In case you're wondering about the post title - it's about those impossibly small size 5 footprints next to my size 11's that we left all over the place - that I didn't get a picture of before the ceaseless wind scoured them away.

(Lest any be concerned about the safety of allowing dear alex to roam free on the frozen surface of a lake, I want to point out that there was an ice fishing contest going on on the lake while we were out there, with a lot of 200-pound plus men gathered in groups, using gasoline powered augers to drill their fishing holes. We certainly stayed well clear of that, but rest assured - the lake was sturdily frozen.)

Happy Valentine's day

Venus chiding Dear Alex Cupid.

All you've got to do...

A few days ago I was in a vile mood, just tired and truly miserable after a few days working on some 'advertising' concepts for two differnet pharmaceuticals indicated for Alzheimers' and Cystic Fibrosis. Now these are good drugs, but both of them are basically designed to put off or delay the onset of the inevitable decline. It's nice to be working, but sometimes it gets a little depressing - that, combined with this general feeling of no-time-for-anything other than Dear Alex and the fact that it's cold and dark and February just sort of came together to make me hate the world. I parked my ass on the couch, and decided that I wasn't going to move. Beautiful Wife came home and Dear Alex was in a cheery, active mood. Nice to see - daddy didn't want to play.
One of her favorite things is to come into the living room and march up to the radio, adjust the volume, point to aforementioned radio and order you to - "dance, dance" (to me, that's the equivalent of having shots fired at your feet, like in an old movie) BW took her in her arms and spun her around, inevitably making Dear Alex squeal with delight - good for her. She stepped over the line by asking Alex if she wanted to dance with daddy. (If you ask Dear Alex just about anything these days you either get a head shake "no, nope, uh-uh" or an enthusiastic "yeah!") I got the enthusiastic "yeah!" - I shot BW and the poor girl my most withering look (BW called me on that one) but dutifully got up and and did the Alex dance. It's pretty amazing - I discovered that it's impossible to stay in a bad mood when you've got 24 pounds of wriggling, giggling baby love in your arms. She cracks me up.
Thank you for remembering me that, Beautiful Wife.

Words in common use this week

up
down
off
picture
cup
light
potty
mommy
daddy
snow
cookie
baa-baa
wash
dance
ball
hat
tissue
this
car
yeah!
clock
balloon

Weekend in the city

It wasn't the best of weekends, but that's what happens when you get lazy. It's always about how much energy it's going to take to get it together to get out of the city vs. how much there is to do at home. Sometimes inertia and the prospect of accomplishing something on the ever-growing list of things to do at home wins out - though it never turns out as you plan it. Dear Alex had her first-ever ride on the subway - the 6 train, no less, so she got introduced to the 'cattle car' right away. Something was up, some kind of delays going on, and we let a few trains go by until we found one that might fit BW, daddy, and a stroller. I could go on at length about Dear Alex's delight with her first experience with the MTA, but suffice it to say, there wasn't much screaming and she made a lot of friends coming and going. Beautiful Wife went to return / exchange something at Children's Place, or Baby Place or whatever, and daddy took Dear Alex to play in the park at Union Square - We had a delightful time in the playgrounds on both sides of the park, and I was particularly enchanted (as was Dear Alex) by the (I'm not kidding) Irish nanny singing to the two boys in her charge as they swung on the swings...

The whole point of the trip was to go to the hateful 'Babies-R-Us' at union square, to buy the Thing of all Things - a toilet training seat - "pottty, potty" as Dear Alex already knows it, though she won't sit on it yet - just regards it at a distance and declares happpily "potty" - I'm sure she knows what it's about, but isn't quite ready to play the game. Holding the bag, carrying it home, felt like one of those heavy milestones that mark a passage - whether it happens sooner or later, I'm going to pay closer attention at diaper time. I can almost see the end of buying the 200 count boxes of size 4 diapers (yeah, Costco run on Sunday). What that means is beyond contemplation right now - part of me is definitely going to miss that first diaper in the morning - full of hope and mystery - what did you do last night beautiful girl? Ah, made a big stinky. good for you. I love you.

Name calling

Who Dear Alex asks for - not a great sample really - just one evening's direct observation over the period from 6pm to shortly after 8pm. I had a slight advantage over Beautiful Wife as I arrived home 20 minutes before she did. I'm not really sure what the numbers mean, but I'm pretty sure that it has nothing to do with how she feels about who she's asking for.
Out of 97 discreet calls for someone, anyone, daddy came out ahead (by a mile). Don't let the numbers fool you, though - when Alex calls for daddy, it seems that the calls come in quick bursts "daddydaddydaddy daaaadeeee" and when she asks for mommy it's usually just one or two linked "ommy, mommie." It may be that she just likes saying "daddy", or perhaps it's because she needs to call me more often because I'm not paying nearly as close attention to her as Beautiful Wife does. It may be just a remnant of mommy not being around for her to call for.
The calls for Nanny Joan seem to come later in the evening as she's getting tired, or perhaps she's forgotten that Nanny J. left for the night an hour or so ago. The saddest and most pathetic of all, though, is her conflation of daddy and mommy into "dommie" - usually just after we've put her in the crib and left the room; "daddiedadd-eemommmieommie-dommie-dommie" - that is truly heart wrenching.

Words and music

I have always been a big fan of words, especially obscure polysyllabic words - apoptosis, echolalia, schistosomiasis, perspicacity, (I could go on) just for the sound of them - the way the rythym and beat of the syllables bumping up against each other sort of feels good to read and think about the sounds. A little wierd, maybe, but there you go. Of late I've been watching and listening to Dear Alex as she works out language and words, and my absolute favorite is when she breaks into babbling, or jargon as it's called. Technically, she's in the post-canonical or advanced form of speech development - she can break into a "a multisyllabic vocalization that contains a mix of different consonants and/or vowels overlaid with changes in intonation." However you say it, it's a wonderful thing for a word-freak to listen to - you can see her delight with the way the syllables feel. When this stage of her development started, I thought it was that she was trying to say something, but just didn't have the words - I realize now that she's just having fun with the sounds. Kind of cool. I make note of this, not because there's anything special about Dear Alex, but because it's fun for daddy to listen to, and I'm pretty sure this is a phase that isn't going to last too long.

Change

I've been going through the Dear Alex photo archive of late, and It's occurred to me that while I often blather on breathlessly about her growth and her small "person-ness", I don't really know when the change happened - when she went from inert lump-of-baby to active observer to active participant. It is astonishing (I use that word a lot) to me how much has really happened with her ever-evolving personality, but so achingly slowly (time is totally relative, here) that it only works if you take a longer view. I posted the above picture because it marked somewhat of a transition for me from lump-baby to little people. It seemed to me that she realized right around the time the picture was taken that there was a whole world to be a part of and see. There was nothing she could do about it, but she started really observing - there was a new light in her eyes.
That change was about 8 months or so ago and now the change accelerates daily, though you'd hardly notice - because it always feels like the same day - unless you're paying attention.

It's a little thing, but I remember that it took a long time for for her to say "daddy" but now I don't remember when it first happened - though it couldn't have been more than a month or so ago. Seems like forever, but it also seems like she's always been saying "daddy". Now, she adds new words (or approximations therof) daily, moves around incredibly well and climbs on and off the furniture as though she's been doing it always. When the hell did that happen? I'm guessing that it was a little bit every day, nothing big, until you suddenly realize that a: she's tall enough to reach the light switch, and b: she knows what it does and how to use it.

I guess this is just a little reminder to myself: Pay attention.

What I meant by "chill."

What I've been waiting for all winter - the still clarity of snow on the frozen lake, from someplace near the middle.

mmmm Toasty

Dear Alex finally had occasion to wear her ugg. She looks a bit like a big pink marshmallow, and I definitely want a daddy-sized one. Props to Beautiful Wife for suggesting the mod to that old baby-bathtub in the closet - I cut off the feet and attached a rope handle. We tried it on the septic mound - it's slippery and quick, and it cracked her up. The girl loved it and it's really a delight to pull.

Chill

Not for the steadily dropping temperatures, but for the mood for this weekend. Left the overwhelmingly grey drab of the almost-wannabe-winter weather in the city this weekend - in intermittent rain, and by the time we got to the GWB, it was snow. The drive to the Undisclosed Location was delightful in a complicated guy-thing sort of way. It's been a long time since I've had the occasion to drive in snow, and I'd forgotten the almost hypnotic quality of the constant stream of large flakes of snow coming at you in the headlights. As trite as it seems it was also somehow moving as it was the first time I'd felt so deeply responsible for BW and Dear Alex in the back seat. Lil'screamie did not do her usual - falling asleep shortly after we get on the road, but she stayed awake through nearly the whole journey, learning and using the word "schnow - schnow!" endlessly as we drove. Fun and funny for the first twenty miles or so, but there's that (recent parental experience) voice in the back of your head that says, 'this does not bode well' . When screamie gets beyond overtired, cranky is the only outcome.
Arriving at the house offered that rare delight of making the first tire tracks on a snow-covered driveway after a long drive with the feeling of having made a real journey, that beat - the moment after you turn the car off and relax in the snowy darkness.

There was a brief furry of activity, getting Dear Alex out of the car and into her crib, then peace. Of course, the dear girl wasn't really done - all went well until I was awakened at around 4:30 in the morning by her screams - BW stayed mercifully asleep, so I got up to deal. Alex had made a stupendous mess in her diaper, the likes of which I've not seen in a while: the consistency of Gulden's spicy brown mustard, and like mustard (have you ever noticed?) it kind of got everywhere. I hustled her downstairs, and changed her in the dark as she writhed and screamed and fought me with everthing she had - I have no idea why, but of late, she doesn't seem to want to give up the diaper. After the struggle Dear Alex is freshly diapered - and it's calm again.

That calm is what this is about. Once the screaming stopped, I noticed that it was as bright as daylight outside - there was a full moon lighting up the snow that I got to see and share with Alex. (she loves the moon) - all because of this now unusual early morning awakening. It was worth it, and it put me in mind of all of the times I'd done this way back when lil'screamie was just a peanut, and how quickly you forget that aspect of daddy-ness - the midnight wakings, the relentless tiredness is constantly being displaced by the newness and wonder of watching her grow.

Mommie!

It's official: Dear Alex has finally gotten over her righteous anger at Beautiful Wife for leaving her alone with daddy for a week , and is saying Mommie again. She went to grammie's last night, and had a wonderful time, but towards the end of the visit she had a bit of a lil'screamie meltdown. Inconsolable crying, clutching at anything that she could get her little paws on and writhing as though she was on fire - holy cow you'd have thought I'd used the electric baby prod on her. As part of the magic, just to let me know how dissatisfied she was with daddy, she busted out a perfectly formed and articulated "mommy!-mommy!-mommy!" Good for her - good for BW, who I think has been feeling left out a bit. Now when the calls in the night come, who will Dear Alex ask for?

Where does the time go?

Not a rhetorical question, I assure you - I was trying to figure out why every day seems like the same day. It turns out it pretty much is - and it sort of looks like the above chart.
The numeric values are in fractions of an hour, divided into types of activity. The darkest orange represents Dear Alex time, which actually works out to be less than it feels on some days. For what it's worth, this is my way of coming to embrace something that I've been wondering over for a long time: Why does it feel impossible to get anything significant done? Easy answer: No real time, save that large dark wedge at the top of the chart representing sleep, but you mess with that too much, and it ends up costing you in other areas. So the ultimate answer is to begin. To do the little things, to move things forward (or around) a little bit whenever you can. It's not so bad, and the kid's so much fun that it makes it easy to forget that you were going to...

FWIW: I really did work this out - Powerpoint is a wonderful app., in the right hands:
The pie chart represents 24 hours, the darkest gray represents sleepy-time, more or less.
the lighter grays on either side of that signify preparing for or recovering from sleep and / or time for personal hygiene, such as it is. The dark orange is lil'screamie time - either getting ready for, or doing things with - and in the morning (upper right on the pie) doing so while also scrambling to get ready for work. (i.e.: finding keys, cell phone, clean socks, and handing the dear girl off to nanny J. who arrives reliably at 8:30) The brighter orange wedges represent my commutes to and from work - an easy walk, and my most cherished times of day for thinking and / or getting supplies from the various grocery, deli and liquor stores along the way. Light gray is work time, with half-an-hour lunch, usually at desk. The early evening, after work is also Dear Alex time, divided almost precisely into hand-off from nanny J, reading, dancing, bathtime, and the growing-ever-longer bedtime ritual. Light grey (upper left of the pie) is TV time, or writing / reading time. And so it goes...