downtown where everything's waiting for you

Jonah and I took a little trip to the downtown library by bus today. We do this periodically.

Jonah likes to load up my big backpack with the books and CD's to return. As we wait for the bus just around the corner from our house, he watches and comments with great interest on the various vehicles going by: the noisy motorcycles carrying burly leather-clad lads; the shiny convertibles floating cheerful couples by, breeze ruffling the little hair left on their heads; the monster-like garbage trucks shaking the ground underneath; and, of course the awe-inspiring dump trucks, tankers, and big rigs spreading their magnificent fumes and heavy metal magic everywhere.

Today, Jonah got so excited he shrieked when the bus came into view, turning the corner and heading down the hill towards our stop. On the way downtown, we watched the bridges across the river go up to let a tugboat and barge through.

Downtown, as always, was a feast for the eyes: a fire engine, UPS trucks, bike messengers, delivery men, and construction.

Twice Jonah spotted a small fenced-in pit in the ground with a group of chaps in bright vests and hard hats huddling around it. Each time, he rushed me to the site, stopping just short of sticking his nose through the fence, belting out a cheerful "Hi guys!" as if these muscle men in fluorescent hues were his long-lost friends - this even before he got their attention. The dudes were totally charmed by the midget with a toothy smile. One even honked his digger horn at Jonah, the highlight of our day for sure.

Usually Jonah throws the library books in the slot and then we pick new ones to borrow and read a few together, but today the library was closed, which made Jonah sad. Instead we took a tram to a nearby bookstore to read books before stopping by dad's office and having lunch with him. Lunch with dad is usually the way our morning downtown ends. Then it's time to go home for a nap. Too bad I forgot to take my camera this time. Next time I have to document one of our downtown adventures to provide you with some visuals.

and now a word from our budding film critic

Here is a short video I made of some of the dinosaurs we saw at the science museum the other day. When we watched it, Jonah remarked: "Jonah's blurry." That was, I must say, an accurate observation. Good critique of my bad technique.

sick again

Over the last few days, we've all been taking turns being sick. Now it's my turn. This is definitely one of the stranger bugs - seems like a stomach flu, but each family member has had different symptoms from a cold to what seems like food poisoning. No fun. Can't wait for it to be over.

days with a friend

My friend and her three-year-old daughter are in town this week from the east coast. She and I and the kids spent two wonderful mornings together; one at the ZOO and one at the science museum. Our kids got along well though they hadn't seen each other in at least eight months. Ruby is Jonah's only girlfriend. All his other friends are boys.




The science museum currently has a dinosaur exhibit. Jonah is new to the world of dinosaurs. This was the first time he has seen life-size dinosaur models; some of them robotic. I could see in his face he was a bit scared. I could also tell because he started making up stories about how the dinosaurs were his friends. He often does that to counteract his fear. I hope these robotic monsters that growled and huffed and puffed don't give him nightmares.

You can see a few of the pictures I took here.

an elephant never forgets

There is a song I really dislike, but Jonah enjoys. It's one of those annoying jolly children's tunes by a singer-songwriter who probably landed in the kids' music branch of the industry because he couldn't make it in any others.

Once the song gets in your ears, you're doomed because it will take you days to kick-box it out of your skull. Anyways, the song's refrain is: "An elephant never forgets" repeated about fifty times.

Why bring this up? Because Jonah is like an elephant who never forgets, I swear. His memory is unbelievable.

The other day we went on a trip. We hadn't been to that area or anywhere close in about six months. When we crossed the little bridge leading to the beach where we'd planned to go, Jonah asked, pinpointing the exact fork in the road which led to the farm where we went right before Halloween last year to pick a pumpkin: "Where is the pumpkin patch?"

I couldn't believe it. This toddler's sense of place and memory never cease to amaze me.

a day on the beach

Finally a warm and sunny day! We spent half of it on a river beach. Take a look at the pictures from today.

the works

Yesterday was my first day back at work after more than two months away. I had been looking forward to getting back in the swing of things and to feeling appreciated outside the home. But I had been dreading the awkwardness that I would surely encounter with co-workers regarding Amalia's death.

Most people at work already knew that Amalia died shortly after birth. That made my return easier. No one asked me to discuss the details (so far, at least). Only one person asked how the baby is doing and I couldn't really dodge the question. I had to answer that the baby died.

Several people came up to me and told me they were sorry, some hugged me, and though our conversations generally ended briefly with them actually verbalizing they didn't know what else to say, their expressing their sorrow and solidarity meant so much. I never realized until this time on the receiving end that just having someone come up to you, look you in the eyes and say they were sorry could be so meaningful.

On the other hand, I am disappointed that my direct neighbors at work, including a woman who was one of the inspirations behind me deciding to have another biological child and getting pregnant with Amaila, only said as much as: "Welcome back," though we sat next to each other at our adjoining desks for several hours.

I remembered my friend Cari's words from the time she and I talked about what it would be like to go back to work after all that had happened in my life. She said: "People will say stupid things (and I should add: or not say anything). Death makes people uncomfortable." It's true.

My students, whose class was predominantly taught by a sub, were genuinely happy to see me back, which was the best feeling ever. I will spend a month recruiting and signing the next batch of students up for the upcoming course, which I will start teaching in mid-April. I do like my job. It gives me lots of autonomy and makes me feel useful in the world.

healthy lifestyle challenge update

I thought I would let you, my faithful readers, in on how my lifestyle changes were going.

I am proud to report that I am still making sure I get some form of exercise in every day. It's either a fast 20-minute walk around the neighborhood or a 20- to 30-minute Pilates workout. The DVD I got has been kicking my butt. In fact, my underutilized, flabby body is now quite sore and because of that, I decided it would be wise to switch up the type of exercise more often. I got a couple more DVDs today: yoga and qigong. I want to see how I like these. I will let you know what I think in a few days.

In the meantime, I would like to hear from you -perhaps in the comments section- what type of exercise you do and why.

Now, on the diet front I haven't been doing too bad with the challenges I set for myself recently. I have limited my consumption of meat to fish and poultry - each only once a week. I have also cut down significantly on the amount of processed and refined foods as well as on the size of meal portions and snacks. At the same time I have added more whole grains and leafy greens to my diet. So far, I have been enjoying these changes.

The hardest thing to scale down on is coffee. I have a habit of drinking a cup twice a day. One in the morning and one in the afternoon. Though I love the taste, smell and effect of coffee on my system, I am aware that coffee significantly decreases the body's ability to absorb iron and calcium. And that's not good. So, I would like to cut out at least one of these daily cups. When the weather is sunnier and warmer, I will probably have an easier time doing this.

I will keep you posted.

a walk in the woods

Finally, now that I'm no longer an oversized two-hundred pound tanker truck, we've been getting out to nature more on the weekends. It feels so good to breathe fresh forest air. Though it's still cold most of the time, the trilliums are blooming and the moss is fresh and green. Spring is around the corner! More photos here.

my tot, the Terminator

Before I was ever a mother, I used to have a romanticized idea of what we, human beings, at our core, were like. I thought we were loving, pure, and innocent until exposed to violent media or cruel encounters with horrible human beings. Not so. Inside my little boy lurks a Terminator, always ready to pounce.

When he's angry, he tends to scream, throw, kick or hit.

He has somehow latched on to every violent verb accessible to a toddler who does not watch TV, go to daycare, and whose parents aren't known for their cursing or fighting prowess.

Lately he has been enjoying telling stories in which at least every third word is one much like these: smash, crush, cut, crash or hit. Each time, my little barbarian emphasizes the violent verb by raising his voice, clenching his teeth, and making a large, abrupt guillotine- or sledgehammer-like gesture with his arms. The stories roll out at race car speed, so I haven't been able to capture one yet, but here is a quote that exemplifies what I'm talking about:

"I'm bad. I'm a hitting guy that has a bone, hits a tree and smash(es) it."

My little angel.

the dreaded question

• At the supermarket, a surprise encounter with an acquaintance: "How is the baby?"

• In line at the post office, Jonah asks loudly: "Mommy, where is your baby?"

• The midwife checks in: "How are you feeling emotionally?"

How do I answer? What do I say?

Monday I go back to work after weeks of being gone. Will a lot of people ask?

my latest distraction

Here are a few more fantastic videos I discovered today while avoiding items on my to-do list. I just had to share these. The theme here is what I would call the Czech psychedelic music video wave of the late 60's and 70's. The first song is called The Fair Has Arrived (as in "the circus and rides are here"). It was made in 1973, the year I was born. Note that there is no mention of little boys, yet we see two little boys in a fish bowl peering and pointing at the singer a few times during the song. The second song is entitled Child's Eyes and it's about a girl who has childlike eyes. The last tune is called Dracula's Answer and, though it's actually a pretty song, the visuals are uber creepy, to say the least. Enjoy.







And here is the bonus track:

our landlord's alter ego

Periodically I must post something about our odd landlord. Today I ran across the video below and thought: if our landlord, whose favorite conversation subject is caulk, was a singer (and a Czech), he could very well be this guy. (Don't quit halfway through because things really don't start happening until the 1:20 mark.)



The performer, Jiri Korn, is actually one of the most famous Czech singers of the 80's - my childhood.

Here are some other sexy Czech (and Slovak) guys... vra vra vroom!

who let the dogs out?

I've got to get something off my chest. This morning I was on my speed walk through the neighborhood - you know my new routine I wrote about earlier - when a dog appeared out of nowhere, charging at me, flaunting its huge canine fangs. It was growling, barking and even jumping at me, though luckily it only dared to land about two feet away from me.

As you have probably guessed by now, it wasn't on a leash and its owner was straggling lackadaisically about a block behind the dog.

As if that weren't enough, this incident happened on the edge of elementary school grounds. Fortunately the kids were all inside.

I yelled at the owner to put his dog on a leash and he retorted, as most dog owners do, that his dog would never bite. Did he not notice his little darling's pea-sized brain switched into attack mode when it saw me coming? Some dog owners...

Maybe next time I should carry something like this - in leopard print, of course. That would teach them.

food, friends, and family

I have really enjoyed this kick we've been on lately. We've had people over for food every day for the last few days. Eating and shooting the breeze with friends and family is one of my all-time favorite activities. Every day we've had someone different visiting: brunches, after hours snacks and dessert...

Today was special in that the couple that came have a toddler who is friends with Jonah. One never knows how toddlers will do together on any given day, but today Jonah and his little friend did great. Jonah shared his toys and was polite, both the boys ate well and smiled a lot. There wasn't much screaming. The parents could actually relax and have a conversation.

I tried out my first experiment from the vegan cookbook I bought yesterday: a blueberry coffeecake. Already I had to substitute a couple of ingredients. That can be dangerous. Plus I was making something new knowing we had friends coming over. My tendency to do that can sometimes be bad news. You can imagine. But the apple-blueberry coffee cake turned out delicious. Yay! My first vegan baking adventure.

Lately I have been enjoying cooking. Some meals we've had have been quite nice: roasted winter vegetables (thanks for the tips on how to do this, Cari!) and baked salmon; tofu and vegetable curry over rice; cheese gnocchi with cream broccoli sauce; broccoli and mushroom quiche, roasted potatoes and salad...

I hope my enjoyment of cooking continues. It's good for the family.

a health nut wannabe

Lately both Tim and I have become obsessed with revising our diet and exercise habits, which, I am finding, are hard to shake.

After months of literally eating for two, I am now working abruptly on scaling down the amount of calories I take in and upping the calories I exert. I am not one who has ever exercised regularly, but I am trying to get some stretching and walking in each day. To this, I will soon add a gym membership which translates to working out two or three times a week. Full disclosure: to fall within the normal limits for a person my age and size according to the Body Mass Index, I need to lose 25 lbs. That is my goal in the next few months. But mostly, I just want to exercise more because I know it's good for me and because some day when my body is used to the routine, it will feel good.

I am also trying to transition our whole family into eating more vegetarian and vegan food and have decided to personally go back to eating only poultry and fish. I haven't been eating beef for a few years, but pork somehow crept its way into my diet during the last weeks of my pregnancy. This morning I bought a new cook book, Vegan with a Vengeance for more inspiration. I am very excited to try out some of the recipes.

I must say that we have been very good at eating mostly organic food for the last couple of years. This is important to me not just because of our health, but because I want my actions to reflect my concern for the wellbeing of our planet.

The other things I want to cut down are sugar, dairy, and processed and refined foods. I would like to up our whole grains and raw foods intake.

I am now reading Michael Pollan's In Defense of Food, which is encouraging me to make these changes.

The hardest part of persevering with eating healthily (is that a word?) is to stay inspired in the kitchen, which can be hard at times since we usually eat at home all but on restaurant night, which tends to be just once a week on a random night. I tend to have stretches when I think cooking and trying out new recipes is fun, followed by stretches when I detest everything about the kitchen, including the dishes (poor Tim!). Lately I have been making most of the dinners, but when I go back to work, Tim will cook at least three times a week - the way it was before.

I will keep you posted on how our conversion is going.

bye bye, bunny

Jonah has frequently been asking about what happened to the baby. Today, for change, he asked me where my big belly is. I explained, but he wasn't satisfied, so I decided to do a reenactment of Amalia's short life using two of Jonah's stuffed animals. Gray dog was mom and bunny was baby.







When I got to the part when I said goodbye to Amalia, I didn't know where to put her, so I just ended the skit with the baby lying down and mom saying goodbye.

Jonah then took the baby bunny, a.k.a. Amalia, and performed his own version of the event. He laid the bunny down and waved at it, saying in a resolute yet jovial tone: "You're sick. Bye, bye." Then he threw the bunny across the room into a corner with a mighty force. We then moved on to a different activity.

airport-bound

I have had this idea that I'd been saving for a special, preferably drizzly day. Yesterday I finally decided it was a good day to try it.

First, Jonah and I took care of a couple errands - the post office and bank. Then I left the car parked in the errand neighborhood and we walked over to the light rail train station and rode the train right to the airport. The line actually conveniently ends right inside the airport terminal. Perfect! I told Jonah we would go watch the planes, play on the play structure that kids waiting for flights hang out on, and finally, we would have pizza for lunch, then head back on the train. Now that he is two-and-a-half, he has the stamina to make it through an action-packed morning like this.

Of course, as soon as we were done with our errands, it started pouring cats and dogs. We hung out inside the bank in the waiting-for-a-financial-consultation section, eating our snacks. When the rain turned into drizzle, we set out on our ten-block walk to the train station during which I mostly carried Jonah on my shoulders (as you can see on the picture).

As soon as we got on the train, the warmth, humming and gentle rocking worked their magic. Within minutes Jonah was asleep. "Oh no," I thought. "There goes my plan."

We got to the airport, I carried Jonah inside, and... fortunately he woke up and got excited just by the escalator, let alone the airplanes and airport trucks outside the giant windows. We played on the indoor slide for a while, then ate our pizza while looking out at the airplanes outside getting cleaned, checked, and filled with luggage.

The airport adventure would have been just peachy had I not been approached by the fare inspector on the way back. I had, of course, validated a ticket. But it turned out to be for a zone different from the one where the airport was. One zone short I was that day. The inspector let me off with a warning, but if I get caught violating one of their rules again within the next year, I will have to pay a hefty fine. The inspector checked my ID and wrote down my information down to my eye color, for goodness' sakes, to make sure I get in their system.

I was mad. First of all, the zone boundaries are very confusing and second of all, the inspector should have thanked me, and all of us riding that train, for helping to make our city green instead of harassing us about fares and treating us like we were trying to cheat the system. Oh well. Jonah didn't seem to think there was a problem. While the inspector was filling out my ticket, Jonah was staring out the windows, exclaiming excitedly: "Whoa, construction!" and "Whoa, cherry picker!" The inspector then gave Jonah a sticker of a crime stopper dog and thus forced Jonah to thank him for harassing us. Oh well, as long as my little man had a good time. That's what our trip was all about anyway.

body talk

This the nucleus--after the child is born of woman, man is born of woman,
This the bath of birth, this the merge of small and large, and the
outlet again.

Be not ashamed women, your privilege encloses the rest, and is the
exit of the rest,
You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates of the soul.

- from Walt Whitman's Sing the Body Electric


Time has been going by so quickly. I cannot believe it's already been nearly a month since Amalia was born. The physical reminders of the pregnancy and birth, the ones that have to do with my physical connection to her, are slowly disappearing. The bleeding is done, the jiggly organ feeling during any kind of movement as well as the hemorrhoids (try spelling that one) pretty close to gone, my weight is nearly back to pre-pregnancy (though my stomach still bulges out), and I have stopped expressing milk.

The last two or three days of Amalia's life was when my milk really came in because I got to hold her and bond with her. She was born without the gag reflex, so she got fed my milk, which I pumped, through a tube going down into her stomach. In about two weeks I have gone from having to express milk every two hours, an amount that totaled something between sixty and seventy ounces of milk a day (!), to weaning completely. All that time I worried about mastitis, but luckily I was able to avoid it. What will stay are the stretch marks. Amalia was, after all, a big girl. She weighed nearly nine pounds! That's a lot compared to Jonah who weighed less than seven.

Right after Amalia was born, she was whisked to intensive care. Tim went along in the ambulance, but I stayed behind, resting. The midwives said Amalia needed me and tried to hurry me to the hospital, but I couldn't physically jump out and get on the road even if someone drove me. If I tried to get up to just use the bathroom, my heart started beating like crazy, I was short of breath and felt lightheaded. Finally, after about four hours I made it out to the car and to the hospital, still feeling weak and panty. That crazy palpitation feeling when I got up to walk lasted for two or three days, but at last went away. Birth is such a huge process and transition for both the mother and baby.

Tim and I visited the hospital a couple of times together, but most days we took turns, so one of us could always be with Jonah. Between the two of us, we were at the hospital at least ten hours a day.

I hated all the tubes, machines beeping, the cold Amalia had to endure. They had her uncovered, naked save for a diaper, and cooled for the first few days to try to save her brain. She was so cold that her feet were purple. It was so hard to see that and to not be able to hold her. Everything contrary to what a mother (and baby) feels is right.

After the first three days when the brain injury is supposed to peak, she was allowed to be covered and dressed. We could even hold her a few times at that point. She did open her eyes and look at us some of the time. It's hard to tell how much she was aware of with the brain injury she suffered. But we acted as if she was all there, listening to our words and songs, feeling our skin against hers, feeling our love. The body and soul are, after all, two different entities, sometimes in sync and sometimes not.

A part of me wants to forget the hard things about her short life, but that, of course, is impossible, because her whole short life outside my womb was defined by trauma.

When I get up each morning and open the curtains in the living room, I look right at the hill on the other side of town and see the hospital where Amalia spent her short life and died. The hospital is what we see, dominating our view from the main part of the house, from the front door and the porch. I now have that sterile, machine-filled establishment intertwined with who she was and what I remember of our brief relationship. A hospital, of all places, an environment I most detest. One that, other than what it must be like in the middle of a war zone, for me is closest to hell on earth.

Regardless, today I had a good day. The sun was shining and the air was warm and almost summer-like; Jonah and I had great fun together out and about town; I thought about lots of stuff, not just Amalia; and only cried once and for about two minutes listening to traditional Vietnamese music, which reminded me of her for some reason. That, my friends, is a good day. Replenishing, to say the least.

us

Here we are at the park together today:

skate master

Our little man has found a new passion for skateboarding. We couldn't get him to come inside today. All he wanted to do was to practice his skateboarding moves. (You can see one of our cats in the background.)

It all started with Tim showing Jonah some youtube skateboarding videos and then Jonah, the fearless skater, came into being.

He asks me to hold his hand about half the time he plays with the skateboard, but half the time he practices getting on, tilting the thing and then jumping off on his own. I didn't know he would be ready for such a feat this early. I, on the other hand, am too scared to even put one foot on the thing since I have never had very good balance on any kind of wheels.

new pics

Today Tim, Jonah and I took a very nice walk in one of my favorite parks just about twenty miles outside of town. I took a few pictures and updated our photo album, which I haven't done in a while. I added some older pics that I haven't had a chance to put up yet. You can see the pics here.

the consequence of sick

This morning Jonah wanted a drink from my water glass. I told him I didn't want him to drink from it because I was sick with a cold.

After a little while he asked me: "Mommy, where is your baby?"

I answered: "The baby is not here. She was too sick."

Jonah replied, concerned: "You're not sick, mommy."

I qualified my statement: "Just a little bit." He seemed satisfied with that and went on to play.

His reasoning was clear as day: if the baby was sick and because of it will not live with us, what about mom? His two-year-old brain never ceases to amaze me.

while Jonah plays...

I am usually a person who needs to get out and go places instead of staying at home when I have Jonah all day. These days I sometimes stay in and around the house all day and don't even notice because my mind is all over the place, traveling so faraway every day.

Today I took Jonah to "Indoor Park," a place set up by the city for kids at a community center. Three days a week the gym at the center is open to families and kids and filled with toys, foot-powered cars, slides, etc. And all that for only one dollar. It's a great place to go when it's too cold or rainy to go outside.

Jonah's favorite item at Indoor Park is a foot-powered monster jeep. He can get in it and drive it for hours on end, occasionally stopping by the bench where I am parked and asking me to check the engine or gas up his vehicle. Today for the first time I noticed the jeep's wheels are bigger than Jonah's little head. What is it about monster jeeps and trucks that appeals to little boys so much?

I was at Indoor Park today for the first time since giving birth, reading my book on grief -albeit with the cover page masked so no one could tell- noticing mothers who were pregnant when I was and now had newborns strapped to their chests and toddlers running around the gym. I, of course, got emotional a few times, thinking about how that would have been me today if Amalia hadn't died.

I think of her constantly. I replay all that I remember in my mind over and over: the birth, my visits to the hospital, her last day with us...

After all the relatives left, the reality of Amalia being gone really set in. The predominant feeling now is a profound sadness, which consumes me occasionally, several times a day. Otherwise there are many times I think about her without feeling a lot, maybe just tiredness. And then, most of the time, I just go about my day in a mundane sort of way: fixing food, eating, picking up toys, playing with Jonah, thinking about the most random things like spring and all the places I want to travel.

I dread having to return to work three weeks from now. I know I will enjoy work - I like what I do and look forward to the time to myself there and the distraction of being able to think about other stuff. It's just that I don't have the energy to deal with having to talk about Amalia's death on a daily basis. I am also worried that others at work will stigmatize me for having gone through this; that they will whisper and look at me strange... I just need to remember my friend Derrick's words: "Like water off your back." He is right. And also not everything is about me. Grief is quite narcissistic, I now realize. And I didn't get that from a book.

feel better, mommy?

The other day Jonah asked me to pretend to cry. When I did, he brought me an imaginary beer: "A beer for you, mommy. Feel better?"

sad

Today I feel sad. I think of Amalia's little hand in mine and of the way kissing her warm little chest felt and I miss her terribly.

I'm reading a book about grief just so I can say I'm trying to deal with it - not just to others but to myself. It's interesting to notice that some of the things I have been thinking and feeling are very much parallel to those others who have lost a loved one have felt. I didn't know.

My guiding words have been my friend Karin's: "There is no wrong way (to grieve)."

Today we received Amalia's ashes. I didn't realize how big of a deal that little vile would be. I haven't even begun to process that transformation yet. I haven't even looked inside that little box.

back to number one son

The first days after Amalia's birth were such a stressful time. Somehow, Tim and I sleepwalked through them with my sister being here for a part of it. I hardly had the energy to acknowledge her presence, but it meant so much to have her nearby. Those days were hard for Jonah too. When he needed our reassurance most, we were often gone at the hospital, sitting at Amalia's bedside.

Jonah never met Amalia. We decided it was better that way. The situation was confusing enough as it was. Jonah was at uncle's and aunt's house during the birth and we never took him to the hospital to meet Amalia because we weren't sure she would make it from the beginning.

Jonah asks about the baby once every so often. First it was: "Who's home?" Then: "Where is baby?" or pointing at my stomach: "Who's in there?" or "What's your belly doing there?"

We explained in a simple way what happened: "The baby will not live in our house. She was too sick." or "The baby is not here. She was sick and died."

I don't know how much he can understand, but now that we are getting back to our old routine, he has finally begun to act out less and has been in a more even keel and pleasant mood (as pleasant and even keel as a two-year-old can be). He has missed routine.

As a prime example of a toddler in what Freud termed to be the anal stage of development, Jonah has had a strong need to control his environment, especially when things feel out of control. For nearly two weeks, he refused to leave the house. Going just to the store or the backyard took an unprecedented amount of coaxing. We honored some of his need to be in a familiar environment and to feel in control during that time and slowly tried to ease him out of that phase by going to see his favorite relatives: uncle and aunt and his grandparents who came for a visit the last week.

It seems that Jonah is more or less comfortable with doing stuff and going places again. He still has control issues (e.g. "Not those pants; I need blue pants!!!" or his main complaint: "No, mommy! I need daddy do it!"), but those have more to do with being a toddler than being under stress.

I will be home with him during the next four weeks before I return to work mid-March. Then Tim and I will take turns working and watching him again, picking up where we left off before I went on maternity leave.

Jonah has been so sweet when he has seen me get emotional. He hugs me and tries to console me. But I have been reluctant to get emotional around him too often, because I know it confuses him and makes him feel like things are out of control. I do believe, however, that it's not healthy to shield children from real emotions either, so at this stage, it's all about a healthy balance.

When he doesn't freak about about things not being just the way he wants them (remember the Terrible Two's or Freud's anal stage), he is a real sweetheart. Very affectionate and fun to be around.

musings on Amalia's death - part I

It's strange to be thrust into a whole different reality - a place where time moves differently and things appear dream-like. I had never watched a person die before. After losing a baby, I suddenly feel oddly connected to a whole league of women who have lost their children, whether in a war, poverty or surrounded by first-world machines and medicine potions.

I have always feared hospitals and mistrusted doctors. Amalia's birth forced me into an environment which I expected to fight with every fiber of my being. But I had no energy to fight. I had to trust and accept what was before me.

The most interesting part of this tragedy has been my surprise at not experiencing the fear I had anticipated to feel. I was terrified of watching my baby suffer, of watching her die. I was afraid that through my empathetic connection, I would take on her physical struggle; that the panic attacks I experienced at age ten after the death of my paternal grandmother would return or that I would suffer cardiac arrest. (The connection between her and me, after all, had been and continues to be, predominantly physical.) I was horrified that I would be unable to sleep or too scared awake alone at night. I was more afraid of being afraid than I actually have been afraid throughout this experience.

family

My sister was here for a few days last week. She went up to the hospital to be with and sing to Amalia with me every day. I am so glad she got to meet her and be with us during the most difficult time.

Only a handful of people got to meet Amalia: Tim's brother Andy, his wife Jenni, my sister Marta, and our friend Mike. I am glad they did. It feels significant to have had witnesses of Amalia's short life with us.
Tim's parents have also been visiting this week. Their presence is so comforting. I am truly grateful for the sense of family I feel with Tim's relatives. Since my family is so small, scattered, and distant both physically and often emotionally, I feel lucky to have the love of Tim's family.

mixed emotions

As difficult and surreal as this time is, I find laughter important and healing. My emotions have been mixed: profound sadness, confusion about what happened and why, a sense of relief - a mixed bag as any process of grieving is, I imagine.

Here is a video that makes me laugh. Lorraine is my new favorite sketch comedy character. This clip is pretty perfect for Valentine's Day: some people and romance just don't mix.

Happy Valentine's Day!

... and thank you so much for all your words of support, food, flowers, cards... all of it means a lot. It feels good to be surrounded by your love.

those wacky Czechs

Once in a while I download a youtube video for Jonah to watch. There are lots of great Czech cartoons for kids that I grew up watching on the internet. Some of them don't rely on language at all so Jonah can follow without knowing much Czech.

One of my favorite series is one called A je to! which means And It's Done! It's claymation of two guys who are friends and have a passion for building and fixing things and for inventing all kinds of crazy contraptions to do the most mundane tasks.

Here is one great episode entitled Tapety or Wallpaper. Note the bachelor lunch the main claymation hero is eager to eat is canned goulash. What a typical Czech.



Instead of this episode, I first downloaded another. I didn't realize it was one about winemaking. Well, it's European, I thought. So why wouldn't they make a claymation episode for kids about winemaking. But the more we watched, the more psychedelic the episode got. At the end, the two protagonists got so trashed, their vision tripled. I could not explain that one. Those wacky Czechs! You see for yourselves:

resemblance? what do you think?

Here is Amalia next to Jonah when he was one-month-old. Look at the striking resemblance:

two and a half

Jonah is two-and-a-half-years old today. Right smack in the middle of his Terrible Two's. Oh, we love him so.

heartbroken

After eight days of struggle in this world, our little girl Amalia died in our arms last Saturday. She will always be in our hearts.

holding Amalia

As many of you already know, our daughter Amalia was born on February 1st. She had to be whisked to intensive care, because she was having trouble breathing. She is still there and we are hoping she keeps making good progress.

Today I got to hold her for the first time since the moment of birth. What a lovely feeling!

Please keep her in your thoughts.

the house of flu

First it was Tim that came home with the flu. Now that he is feeling better, it's Jonah's turn. Yesterday poor Jonah came down with a fever.

I really hope I am able to ward off the monster since the birth of our new baby is imminent. And I definitely pray baby doesn't get the bug.

The good news is that Jonah has had half the colds this winter compared to the last. I feel encouraged by that.

Last year when we were in Prague for Christmas, Jonah had a similar bug - fever, no appetite and vomiting. It came and went fast, which I hope is the case this time too.

logo master

Ever since Jonah was about 20-months-old, I have been seeing evidence of how, from a young age, human brains are wired to recognize and read symbols. First it was the post office logo , then UPS, and now Shell.

We were looking at a magazine. One ad in the magazine took up a whole page and had a rather tasteful collage-like picture of cars and a farm which I thought would interest Jonah. Instead, he noticed the familiar red and yellow Shell gas symbol, saying: "gas station."

I can see how and why brand-marketing to kids is such a hot pursuit, not to mention a very dangerous and unethical one too.

the due date is here

Today is the due date and the baby is still not budging. What is the deal? Hey, someone tell it the world is not such a scary place. I tried to no avail.

I tell you this baby is nearly three weeks older than Jonah when he was born. It better not be a ten-pounder with a giant head and nails so long they curl and droop Yogi-style at the fingertips.

I may have to resort to some old wives' tale-style recipes for bringing about labor. Your tips in that department are welcome.

crack up

Jonah started referring to himself as "commander" today. I don't know where he learned that word, but it's quite fitting. So, he says things like: "Commander climbed up (to his chair)." or "Commander opened the door." He told me I could not be commander, that only a man could be. Well, he said this this way: "Mommy's not commander. Man is commander." Hmmm... I have been calling him Mr. Director when he gets really bossy, but Commander just captures this stage so much better.

39 weeks

I'm 39 weeks along, which means only a week till my due date, and still waiting for the baby to make its appearance. I will keep you posted.

craziest pregnancy dreams yet

Last night tops all the wild dream nights so far this pregnancy. A kitten appeared in our house that looked like a miniature version of our female cat Sarafina. They frolicked and slept together, but Tim looked under its skin like one would look under someone's glove and said the kitten was sick; that it had problems with its veins.

Warning: not for the faint-of-heart - I ended up tasting the kitten without the kitten even registering it. It just went about its kitten business as I chewed on its gamy meat. I would not recommend tasting kittens to you, even if you are dreaming.

In my dream last night I also danced with an ape. The dance resembled what I imagine the multi-armed Hindu goddess Durga would look like dancing. But the ape was dressed like a traditional Thai dancer with a pointy headdress.

What does this all mean? And what about this friendly ape that danced with me? What was it supposed to signify? The input of any dream interpreters out there would be greatly appreciated.

11 days till the due date!

My belly is stretched to the max. New scars seem to appear every few minutes. They burn and itch alternately. The baby seems cozy in its protected little world. We might have to wait a couple more weeks for its appearance. My guess was that the baby would be born on January 8th, Tim's on the 15th. Only he can now be right.

word games

Jonah loves to have fun with words. He soaks them up like a sponge and remembers ones he surprises with for weeks. He is now able to participate in the famous fill-in-the-blank game of MadLibs as well. Here is one we did today. The underlined words are the fill in the blank ones. See if you can guess which words he contributed. I will list those at the end.

Police Call

Calling all cars...Calling all cars!
Be on the lookout for Jonah. He is wearing a grody suit, a gray UPS truck, and is carrying an old brown fart. He was last seen in the vicinity of a bathroom, waving a loaded daddy. He is charged with holding up a candy store and running off with the owner's mommy. He is also accused of stealing a 1955 alligator and a stupid tiger. It is advisable to approad this person with snotty caution, as he has been known to carry a loaded pickle knife. He uses the alias "Billy the Hamburger" and has been known to disguise himself as a monster jeep. Watch out for this stinky criminal. That is all.

Jonah can't quite understand this story yet, but he enjoys having it read to him and having the words he contributed pointed out.

Which words do you think are his?

If you listed these, you are correct: Jonah, UPS truck, daddy, mommy, alligator, tiger, monster jeep.

new project

Inspired by my friend Karin, I decided to start a blog that will give me a chance to devote some time to creative writing. Hey, now that I'm on maternity leave, I've got to invent some kind of non-parenting related work for myself.

The idea is to write a short little piece each day for one year about a different person that I have known. Writing every day is quite a big commitment, especially with a new baby coming soon, but why not give it a try. These short pieces don't have to take much time.

Most people who have a 365-type blog (yes, lots of people do) have an exact word count for all their posts. For example, each composition must be no less or no more than 35 words. I will just try to keep my posts short. Counting my words and trying to edit my writing down to the same number of words each time feels too rigid. I like the idea of writing something creative every day and of reaching into the crevices of my brain for memories that may otherwise never resurface.

Here is the link to my 365 experiment. Let's see how long I can keep it up.

patience... what a virtue

These days when Jonah and I have a good day with tantrums kept to a minimum, I feel relieved and elated in the evenings. It truly feels like a miracle. But on the days teeming with emotional upheaval and toddler violence, I sometimes have a hard time liking the fellow. Not loving him, just liking him.

Today was one of those days. A tantrum about every little thing, violence towards the cats, and even me. All day the words of my friend Jenn, mother of two toddlers, have resounded in my head: "I've been there." That helps ease the pain a bit though it's hard not to feel completely at a loss and disheartened.

Hopefully Jonah will learn to cope with boundaries and his emotions in a gentler way soon. I'm trying to teach him in a trial and error sort of way, as best as I can with images of Supernanny, the cop, floating around my brain as I attempt various disciplining and distraction techniques. I too must remember to breathe and be patient.

Dick Cheney snuck into my dreams!

Last night I dreamt I was in labor in Dick Cheney's van. He drove it and let me use his cell phone. He was going to let me stay in his apartment for a while since I was away from home, but it was a fifth floor walk-up. There was a snow blizzard outside. I never saw Dick from the front; always from behind. Surprisingly he wasn't an asshole to me. That still doesn't change my opinion of him. Just one request - Dick, how about you get out of my dreams!

2008 with a bang

The New Year started with a bang for Mr. Jonah & me. But first, let me share how we celebrated the Eve. We went to our friend Karin's party early and stayed just past Jonah's bed time. Though it was mostly adults -except for Jonah and a two-month-old baby girl- our son was entertained. As usual, he basked in the presence of adults having a good time, chatting away and eating tasty hors d'oeuvres. I included a picture of us at the party on New Year's Eve.

Our New Year's day was a little rough with Jonah being extremely moody and dictatorial, playing if-one-parent-is-hard, let's-try-the-other-one nearly all day. But we did have a good portion of the day, playing outside and getting together with a friend of mine, Kyle, that Jonah likes in an uncle sort of way. Kyle is a high school teacher and a football & basketball coach. He always gives Jonah sports paraphernalia. In fact, he is the only friend who does. Someone has got to fulfill that niche, I guess. Jonah likes Kyle so much that I cease to exist when the two of them interact. Too bad Kyle is so busy, because I would love to take advantage of his Mary Poppins magic and evaporate while the two of them do their manly thing for a couple of hours sometime.

On the 2nd of January my friend Megan came over with her son, Jonah's friend Finn. The two of them are nine months apart in age, with Finn being the older one, but their age difference has never seemed so small before. The two boys played like never before, sharing toys, running around, tackling and hugging each other alternately, snacking together -feeding each other, actually- and imitating each other's made up words. This was such an incredible experience for me. Megan and I could actually talk uninterrupted for quite a while. Before that, the two boys mostly fought over toys and got stressed out around each other. And before that, they barely interacted. Parallel play, they call it at that age, I guess. I had never seen Jonah play with another kid like he did that way. That made me so happy! He is getting older, I suppose.

37 weeks!

Yay! I made it to 37 weeks! (This is a picture of me taken today, by the way). The baby is now considered full-term and I am relieved. Now we expect the birth could happen any day. What a life change we are about to experience. No matter how hard I try to imagine life with two little ones, I can't quite picture it. Soon, though, it will become a reality. I hope it will not be as hard as many people make it sound.

Happy New Year!

I am meat

The other day Jonah laid down on the coffee table and said: "I am meat. Eat me, mommy."

I asked him who cooked him. He replied: "Uncle Andy."

"How did he cook you?" I wondered. "In a pot on top of the stove, in the microwave, in the oven or in the toaster?"

"In the oven, pancake-style." Jonah said and stuck his hand in front of my face: "Eat the bone; the crunchy part, mommy."

Christmas on the coast

We just returned from spending three days at the Oregon coast. We were about the only people, other than about two retired couples with miniature lap dogs, that spent our Christmas there in the rain and wind. Actually, one day it hardly rained, but the ocean was so wild we almost got swept away trying to walk on the very edge of the beach.

The hotel was nice. It's been our favorite. We brought a giant load of groceries, so we didn't have to go to the store at all and could cook all our meals. I made Czech-style potato salad and fish for Christmas dinner. We also brought homemade Christmas cookies, bread, and a little potted tree to decorate and put right on the mantel place.

Jonah got the idea of presents for the first time. He kept talking about Santa, whom he discovered in one of his books recently.

We had a really nice time, though I had a pretty bad cold and the weather didn't cooperate half the time. But that was just half the time. So really we were lucky.

Jonah's favorite present was a miniature version of a UPS truck from his grandparents. He didn't want to part with it, so he asked if he could bring it to bed with him and tuck it in. He has also been enjoying the puzzles and legos I got him. Of course, there is the high tech electronic digger from grandpa which we opened after we got back. I am glad we did because it trumps all that ever was before. This piece of heavy equipment more than half the size of Jonah is complete with a country rock anthem to which Jonah loves to jump around, flailing his arms; lights; thunder volume engine sounds; and a macho man voice dolling out commands such as: "Back it up!" and "Scoop those rocks!" That one is definitely guaranteed to delight parents everywhere.

I got great gifts too - a restaurant gift certificate, an Ikea gift certificate and a new camera are up there in the top three. Warm socks and a new lip stick and mascara - yeah!

All in all we had a nice holiday. Now the countdown to new baby has started. That, along with the cold, has been keeping me up at night. How will we handle a feisty two-year-old and a newborn and get enough sleep on top of it all to survive the first few months? I don't know. I just pray we do.

here is what I look like

Here is me now (nearly 35 weeks along):



Here I am at the same point in my pregnancy with Jonah almost 2.5 years ago:



The last pregnancy we took so many pictures. Nearly one every week. This time I think we have maybe two showcasing my belly. I can just hear the second child: "Why is it you took so many picture with Jonah in your belly, but not with me!" Well, because second time, my child, it's all just old hat... ha, ha!

spooky is fun... sort of

Ever since Halloween Jonah has been interested in all things spooky. We read an average of at least one scary story a day - toddler scary. Like the Old Dark Frog.

Now after it gets dark if we don't close our curtains Jonah becomes obsessed with the reflections he sees in the windows. He will see something move, most often his own face or mine, and get concerned that Spooky is outside looking in. He seems enthralled yet perturbed by the idea.

Sometimes he hears things and asks me: "Who is knocking?" Today I could actually trace the sound to me setting my coffee cup on the table, but sometimes I don't know what it is he's heard.

The other day he looked in my closet and exclaimed: "I see a hand! What's that arm doing there?" That sent the shivers up my spine. I picked him up and had him show me where he saw that hand and arm. He pointed to a tube, which was actually a folded blanket the color of white person's flesh. Phew! I felt relieved. Just a blanket.

baby in belly

Tonight Jonah came to hug my belly. He said: "There's a baby in mommy's belly. It will come out later... and live in mommy's house."

He totally gets it. It's really amazing.

Like I mentioned in my previous post, his emotions could be escalating because he knows a big change is about to take place. But of course, like his grandma says, it is mostly "the terrible twos," though I like "tumultuous twos" better since, though difficult, this age is also so much fun.

I am, by the way, just over 34 weeks along in my pregnancy. I feel much more relieved now. The baby is still considered premature if born at this stage, but so close to fully developed that it is pretty safe to give birth now. I just hope I can make it twelve more days so I can have the home birth I envision.

tumultuous two

Our little friend is two for sure. Lately he has been asserting his will power fiercely regarding just about anything. There could be a tantrum lurking under the surface, waiting to unleash itself just about any time. And not just once, but sometimes three or five times a day.

Today, for example, Jonah did not want to get out of his pyjamas. That turned into an angry crying spell that lasted what seemed like a half hour.

Or little Mister may decide he wants to pretend to drive our family car and if he doesn't get his way, he becomes unconsolable. Other favorite things to scream and kick about have included: not wanting to get into his car seat; not wanting to have his diaper changed (though most of the day he now goes diaperless); not wanting to get dressed; and not wanting his play to be interrupted for a meal. He has been so full of strong emotions lately that at the end of the day sometimes, Tim and I are relieved when Jonah is asleep.

If kicking or hitting is involved, we give Jonah a warning and then put him on the "naughty pillow," which works a lot of the time as a good distraction and consequence. But when he decides to get up from it every five seconds and I have to carry him back over and over, his two alloted minutes of "naughty pillow time" seem to last a lifetime. With my big belly, lifting him up and carrying him with both of our emotions running high (I do try hard to stay calm, believe me), it's really not much fun.

When whining is the tone he uses, which happens a lot these days, I ask him to speak in a normal voice and to say please. This doesn't always get him what he wants, but it teaches him a little bit of self-control and politeness. He does usually respond to my request to use a normal voice. At times, though, I have a hard time reminding myself to request him to stop whining because my natural instinct, though not the right thing to do, is to do whatever I can quickly to stop that god-awful sound that makes me want to jump out of my skin. I have been trying to be diligent about getting him out of the whining habit.

If crying, screaming, and non-cooperation are the problem, we either let him cry without reasoning with him after once or twice explaining our position, or sometimes a little bargain will work.

For example, if Jonah doesn't want his dirty diaper changed, I tell him I will count to five and that he has the choice to walk over to his bed and lay down for me or I will carry him there. If he's able to hear me, he usually decides to walk over himself rather than have me carry him. At least, that way he feels a little more autonomous and he feels like he has a choice.

No wonder Freud called this stage the anal stage. Jonah, like most two-year-olds, from what I have read, is so bent on doing things his way and having a say - in short, flexing his autonomy muscles, that it does create quite a tumultuous atmosphere in our household these days.

I know this is part of being two, an age which I have otherwise been thoroughly enjoying, but I have also read that this could be part of the last few weeks before a new baby joins the family. Jonah senses the change. We talk about it and it could be making him anxious.

Well, for now, we will just try our damnedest to ride out the storm in the most compassionate, yet responsible way. Parenting really is an art.

latest obsessions

Jonah's latest imaginative games... or should I call them obsessions:

• puzzle with pictures of concrete mixer, dump truck, and other construction equipment. He will do the puzzle about three to six times in a row without help. He is now very fast at it and I don't think it's a very easy one.

• sitting on a sofa and driving a mail truck or garbage truck and playing mailman or garbage man

• "driving" all kinds of construction equipment or the ambulance or fire truck while on a chair or sofa

• riding his rocking horse, which is actually a dog, and pretending to drive a motorcycle

• occasional cooking

• occasional grocery shopping

• having books read to him, especially Toad and Frog and Owl at Home, both by Arnold Lobel. Those are actually some of the funnest books from Jonah's collection to read.

• having stories told to him. His latest favorite are ones about our cats and their adventures on their motorcycle. He also likes made up stories about Benjamin Bunny or Peter Rabbit.

• throwing a ball or pretty much anything outside

• riding his tricycle, though he still won't peddle

• "driving" our family car or shopping carts that are also cars for toddlers

• torturing the cats

jam-packed

This last weekend was quite jam-packed with activities for us. It kicked off with the devil encounter and then led right into a sleepover during which Jonah stayed over at uncle and aunt's house all by himself. He had a did well and enjoyed himself. In the meantime, Tim and I went on a date to an all-you-can-eat seafood (and more) buffet. Awesome! We were going to go to the movies too, but when we got to the theater, located in the mall, and saw the posters for the movie we had chosen for a lack of selection and the hordes of teenagers lining up for the movies, we got discouraged and decided to rent a movie instead. We still had a nice night.

The next morning, Sunday, was our baby shower, which, like last time, was held at our house. In the morning instead of sleeping in, we jumped up to do some last minute cleaning. My friend Megan supplied the food, which was heavenly! Lots of friends, both men and women, and family (Tim's cousins) came, some with toddlers and even one brand new baby. We didn't play any shower games. Just ate, chatted, then opened presents. I hope people weren't disappointed with no smell-the-poop-in-the-diaper- and taste-the-oddest-baby-food-type competitions. I put a couple of pictures from our shower here. If I look fat, it is because I am... pregnant, that is.

After our shower and Jonah's nap, we went to spend some of our gift money on important items such as a swing and a dresser for the baby. I am suddenly feeling like the clock is ticking and before we know it, the baby will be here. So we have to get ready.

The weekend was fun, but a bit much for Jonah, who had a few melt-downs by the end of it. We have to remember to take it easy with him.

encounter with the devil

Yesterday Jonah and I went to the Czech Society's Christmas dinner and St. Nicholas celebration. I prepared Jonah for the fact that he will see the devil, angel, and Mikuláš by talking about it and showing him pictures of the devil in his Czech children's books. Jonah said: "It will be a little bit scary." I told him I would be there to hug him if he needed me. He said he would talk to the devil and hug him.

When we got there, we saw a couple of other Czech families that we knew with kids Jonah's age. We sat with them and ate dumplings, cabbage and pork, a traditional Czech dish, which is definitely not a Christmas dish. Far from it. For some reason the Czech society has made that their dish of choice every Christmas season. Instead, Christmas dinner is supposed to consist of fish soup, fish (usually carp) and potato salad. Then cookies.

In the last couple of years I have really grown disgusted with carp. It tastes much like catfish. It's a bottom feeder that tastes and smells like fishy mud. It is quite a sight to watch the carp sellers in the streets fish fat carp out of their barrels with nets and either butcher them right there on the spot or just plop them in a bag live so customers can put them in their bathtubs to swim around for fun for the kids. That gives the kids enough time to name and bond with the suckers just before the carp get smacked over the head, stripped of fins and scales, and cooked.

Last Christmas when we were in Prague, Tim noticed the fish sellers weren't shy about scooping up escaped carp from the gutter right back into the barrel to resell them. I was so happy my grandmother made trout for dinner instead of carp. So much better!


But back to our dinner last night. Jonah was one of the bravest children in the group. He not only didn't want to be held; he approached the devil himself, following him around the room. When the devil finally got down to Jonah's level and asked him if Jonah has been a good little boy the last year, Jonah got a bit paler and more concerned. He reached for my hand. But he didn't panic or cry. He calmly took the bag of nuts and candy from the devil and looked inside. On the way home, he said he would share it with daddy. I was impressed.

Here is a video of the carp sellers I found on youtube. It's a little long, but it gives you a good idea of the fishy stuff going on in the Old Country. Also, the video is significant because it was filmed just a block from where Tim, Jonah and I stayed last Christmas in Prague. So we know that intersection intimately.



I also included a picture of the threesome Jonah followed around yesterday. Unfortunately I wasn't able to get a good picture of Jonah with the devil. But you get the idea.

December Holidays

Tonight, December 5th, is a very special night in the Czech Republic - or I should say was, since that special time little Czech children wait for hit about twelve hours ago.

On this day when it gets dark outside, St. Nicholas, or Mikuláš, knocks on doors and asks to speak to the children. He is accompanied by a gorgeous angel who rings a sweet-sounding bell and scary devil who rattles his chain and growls as a warning.

Mikuláš asks the children whether they have been good or bad. Each child then has to recite a poem or sing a song. If a child has been bad, the devil threatens to put the child in his burlap sack and carry it away. But he never does. All children get a bag of goodies before the curious threesome leaves. If a child has been bad, her baggie is filled with coal and potatoes. If the child has been good, she gets fruit and candy.

A couple of times as a little girl I got coal and potatoes, but after every adult around had a great laugh, I was handed a bag filled with fruit and candy.

The night Mikuláš walks around your neighborhood is so magical, exciting and scary all at the same time. Many children hide under their beds and have to be coaxed to crawl out. I always loved the holiday.


The one I remember the most was the year I must have turned five or six. I actually recognized the devil as my parents' colleague. I felt so betrayed, my world utterly shattered. But mainly I was angry about the deceit. I guess that is how lots of kids feel when they find out Santa isn't real.


On Saturday I am taking Jonah to an American substitute of Mikuláš the Czech Society of Oregon is hosting. They host a Christmas dinner and St. Nicholas appearance every year. Last year we went too, but Jonah was only one. He hardly reacted. This year he will have a totally different experience. I hope the devil doesn't give him nightmares!

I googled Mikuláš and his companions, but didn't find very many good images. I have included my favorite ones of the devil, angel and St. Nicholas.

The other holiday that this year coincides with Mikuláš for my family, is of course Chanukkah. I grew up celebrating the major Christian holidays - Christmas and Easter (and St. Nicholas Day). I come from a predominantly Catholic country after all. Half my family is of Catholic stock. The interesting thing was that I didn't really grow up with any religious tradition or understanding. My mom's side of the family is Catholic, though the last practicing and well-versed Catholic is my grandmother. The holidays were more folksy. I never really understood how they tied into the Christian religion because I never studied the Bible or went to church. Religion was frowned upon and nearly banned by the Communists in power. My family was spiritual, but not religious. My father's side is Jewish. The last practicing Jew was his maternal grandmother. My father is completely assimilated to the point that he only observes Christian holidays and doesn't really know much about Judaism.

For no explicable reason, I feel a strong affinity with my Jewish heritage, though I have no tangible connection to it. For the past several years, and especially since Jonah was born, I have slowly been educating myself on issues related to my Jewish roots. I do this mostly privately and quietly, as if hiding it from the world. But it is very important to me to do this. I am the first "mixed" child in my dad's lineage, or so he claims, and there is a part of me that mourns that loss of connection and lineage. Judaism, after all, is a matrilineal tradition, so unless I convert (and even if I converted, according to a large number of Jews), I am a non-Jew. Still, I feel increasingly that sense of personal and spiritual connection. It is something that just is, independent of laws or people's opinions.

Thus, I loop my way back to Chanukkah. I lit the candles tonight and with the help of an MP3 recording, sang my blessings. Maybe later this week I will make some latkes. I did the year Jonah was born.

Supernanny

I don't know how many of you have watched the show Supernanny. Tim and I watched it a few times before we packed our TV away in the basement when Jonah was an infant. Now a couple of her techniques are coming in handy.

For example, we have started teaching Jonah to fall asleep on his own. We used to read him a book and then lay down with him until he fell asleep. This was just fine when he would take anywhere between five and fifteen minutes to do so. It actually felt like a natural and gentle way to usher him into the world of sleep, but when it took more time than that it was a killer. We decided we better change the habit before the baby comes.

So, for about two weeks, Tim has been at it, reading a book to Jonah and then sitting further and further away until Jonah falls asleep with the idea that soon he can leave the room, shut the door and Jonah will be just fine on his own. Tim now sits in a different room, but with the door still open. I think we have a few more days left before he transitions to just saying good night and closing the door.

I have done my bedside duty a few times too, but Jonah has become quite uptight about this night time ritual, wanting his dad there always. We are letting him have that luxury for a couple more days. I work nights three times a week anyway.

When we first started this trend, Jonah cried until he almost went hoarse the initial three nights. I followed my instinct rather than what Supernanny would have advised. Instead of not paying attention to Jonah and just quietly sitting near his bed, I talked to him, explained the process again, told him I would brush his teeth one more time and then he would lay down like a big boy and fall asleep.

The next night, Jonah told me, almost beginning to sob, but holding the tears back bravely: "I'm a big boy now. I'm gonna lay down." That almost made me cry. Ever since then he hasn't cried. The gradual easing out of his room has worked.

The other Supernanny trick we have just started implementing is a time-out of sorts. Except we call it not a "naughty chair" or "naughty step" like Supernanny does, but a "naughty pillow" which is what we use. When Jonah hits, kicks or scratches one of us or one of the cats or if he throws a hard object inside, he has to go and sit on his "naughty pillow" in our bedroom for two minutes. We used to put him in his room for two minutes and hold the door shut, but he wreaked havoc there. He would take either his chair or a hard-cover book and start slamming it against the door with enraged and scared of being shut out. He knew that would get us to open the door for fear of him putting a fist-sized hole in it. So the naughty pillow has been working better for us. It gives us a consistent consequence and a way for him to break away from a destructive activity and refocus.

I never thought we would resort to TV show-style parenting techniques, but for a lack of real life models this is what modern parents do, I suppose. Whatever works AND feels right, I guess.

off into the snow!

Today we made a trip to the mountains so Jonah could really experience playing in the snow. We wanted to go before I get too close to full term. It was the perfect day to head up. The roads were clear and traffic smooth, but the mountains had inches of fresh, dry snow. The weather wasn't too cold, just a couple of degrees below freezing and only snow flurries. Just great!

We found a hill that was really a dead-end street and sledded there for a while. The snow was too dry to make snowballs and snowmen, but the sledding was fun.


Getting down on the ground to sit in the child-sized sled and then getting up at the bottom of the hill was definitely a chore for me, but screaming all the way down as I tried to remain in control of the sliding saucer was a blast. For some reason, Jonah would not ride with me; only with daddy. Hmmm...

It would be so fun to rent a place up in the mountains for a while some day that has a fireplace where we can warm up after eXXXtreme sledding.

Here are some pics from our trip and a couple of videos: