adventures with evan and eli

Climbing the Walls!

2008-11-19T15:01:00.002-05:00

After a long, rainy, housebound Saturday, I was desperate to get out of the house. Where we went was unimportant, as long as it was a change of scenery. Pat and I agreed upon some trivial errands and a visit to the Starbucks drive-thru. As we suited up the kids in shoes, jackets, hats and gloves, Evan asked "Why are we leaving?"

Without really thinking through my response, I said, "Because Mommy is climbing the walls."

Evan's response?

"Mommy, you shouldn't do that! It's dangerous!"

Ear Infection Number 6

2008-11-10T19:52:00.002-05:00

Yes, that's right, since February of this year Eli has had 6 ear infections. He had a brief break over the summer, but now that Fall is in full gear - so are the ear infections. His last ear infection was so recent that he finished the last round of antibiotics 2 weeks ago today. It's been so frustrating on so many levels. First of all, no one wants to see their baby suffer - most especially me. But secondly, little Eli with his fiery red haired temper refuses to suffer alone. He is irritable and aggressive; he looses his appetite; and worse of all - he can't sleep. I can handle the bad behavior and the lack of appetite but the lack of sleep is maddening. Pat and I stumble through our days until we can get an appointment with the pediatrician and the antibiotics can kick in. Meanwhile, the poor little bugger gets so angry sometimes that he won't even let us come near him.

Luckily, we have ear tube surgery scheduled for Thursday. I can hardly wait! Evan had it done two and half years ago and has not had an ear infection since. I am cautiously optimistic that we will be as lucky with Eli. Of course, the tired nay-sayer in me, thinks that this may not be the end. But I really, really hope we can put this chapter of our lives behind us.

Evan's first Jack O-Latern

2008-11-09T22:20:00.006-05:00

Evan insisted it be a "Scary" pumpkin. He drew the eyes and the "scary mouth with teeth"all by himself. This may not seem like such a big deal, but before he began school, he didn't understand the concept of drawing the features on a face. Now he likes to draw faces for fun. He'll fill a whole page with faces - some scary and some happy. But of course, this pumpkin had to be scary.

Pat and I split the carving duty. Then, much to Evan's delight I roasted the seeds. So yesterday evening we turned out the lights and watched the pumpkin while munching on freshly roasted pumpkin seeds. Even Eli liked the pumpkin - although he passed on the seeds.

Since the carving, the pumpkin has become the centerpiece of our dining room table. Evan likes to go into the dinning room in the dark and watch it glow as often as we'll let him. The best part is, we still have 3 pumpkins to carve! I'm trying to save a couple for Thanksgiving centerpieces, but since Evan is so excited about his Jack-O-Latern, I'm thinking Evan should "carve" at least one more!

Trick or Treat!

2008-10-27T14:52:00.004-05:00

Yesterday was trick or treating in Manchester. The weather was perfect, and since Manchester (lamely) does trick or treating during daylight hours only, it proved to be a great afternoon for a walk.

I made Evan a rocket costume, that while very cute, proved to be difficult for stair climbing (an unfortunate and unintended consequence that threatened to ruin trick or treating). There were some tears, but a last minute costume adjustment by Dad saved the day. And then once the free candy started coming - things couldn't have been better.

Evan was having the time of his life. At every house he would loudly yell "Trick or Treat!", followed by an enthusuastic "Thank you. Have a nice Halloween!".

When we returned home, Evan was the official candy-giver-outer. A role he took very seriously. I was scorned for suggesting that he give two pieces to the kids. "No, Mommy. One piece only!"

Eli, was dressed in a kilt and tam that my mother bought in Scotland when I was a baby. With his red hair he looked like a true Scotsman. Although, unfortunately he was mistaken for a girl a couple of times.

Eli was definitely into the free candy, but was more interested in climbing onto curbs and jumping off - while hollering "bumpy bump". Next year I think he'll dig Halloween.

It's so nice that Evan finally "gets" Halloween. It made for a fun afternoon. I am already looking forward to next year.

The amusement park

2008-07-03T10:21:00.004-05:00

We drove an hour and a half today in search of the "Anne of Green Gables Country Fair" that we had read about in the tourist guide. Lured by livestock, homemade pies, period reenactors, and general Anne of Green Gables folklore we set out for Cavendish. Much to our dismay, the promised country fair, was a series of events stretched out over several days and not a fair at all. Because we had no internet to fact check this fair, the tourism folks had duped us.

Disappointed that there would be no strawberry rhubarb pie, but not to be deterred, we made the most of the day. Instead, we enjoyed lunch and an afternoon of amusement rides.

Evan went on most of the rides by himself. He particulary enjoyed the Giant Fun Slide, and the bumper cars (with Dad). He was less fond of the Ferris Wheel, which terrified him with each revolution. However, it was the Tilt a Whirl, which he insisted he wanted to try, that was the scariest and funniest, depending upon your perspective. What started as delighted giggling soon turned to a look of abject horror once the real spinning began. The look on his face was priceless. Although, I couldn't tell for sure if it was just fear, or if he might be sick.

After the ride had finished he bonded off all smiles. "That one wasn't my favorite. It was a little bit scary"

Life's a Beach

2008-07-02T10:18:00.002-05:00

Today was less exciting than yesterday. Everyone seemed to be a bit tired. We went out for a drive, picked up some supplies and then returned for lunch and naps. The sleep seemed to do us all good. We put on our suits and headed down to the beach. We ran, we played football, we dug trenches and lakes, we waded into the water. Hours slipped away, but we were all too busy having fun to notice. Until, Eli, in an expression of apparent hunger, began to attempt to eat a rock. When I took the rock away he began licking the sand of his hands. I scooped him up and brought him up for dinner. To my surprise it was 7:15! No wonder he was so hungry. As we fired up the grill, Eli sat and shoveled his dinner into his mouth.

After a delicious meal we put some marshmallows on the grill and made some s’mores. Evan was disappointed that we didn’t build an actual fire to cook the marshmallows, but forgot all about it when the chocolate came out. As we stuffed ourselves with s’mores the sun slipped quietly behind the horizon giving us a beautiful show. A beautiful end to another relaxing day.

The Wind Farm

2008-07-01T21:17:00.000-05:00

The sun broke through the clouds this morning – and it was going to be a beautiful day. For the first time we got a full view of the wind farm up the coast and were surprised by how much we could suddenly see now that the clouds had passed. It was far more expansive (and much cooler) than we realized.

We enjoyed a delicious breakfast of buttermilk pancakes, compliments of Dad, and then decided to make the wind farm our first stop.

At North Point there is a long rock reef where the North Umberland Strait meets the Saint Laurence at high tide. Since the tide was out we walked out on to the reef to throw rocks and admire the view.

After we spent some time searching for crabs and had thrown a few hundred rocks, we finally convinced the boys to take a walk with us. We headed up the shore to find the nature trail that would allow us to get up close to the windmills, and admire the spectacle of the enormous and graceful machines. The boys were distracted by mud puddles, but Pat and I enjoyed the view.

Later, after lunch and a long nap, we headed down the hill to play at the beach. Dad brought the kite. Evan was excited to help Dad “launch” the kite. Eli happily dug in the sand for hours.

Canada Day Parade!

2008-07-01T21:00:00.001-05:00

It was a full day, but the best was yet to come. After dinner we all went in to the village of Tignish to watch the Canada Day Parade. While we waited for the parade to begin we bought ice cream cones from Judy’s take out. Eli, the independent, was insistant on eating his own cone (although he did accept some help), and somehow managed to get only modestly sticky.

Once the parade beagn the boys were so excited to see the police cars, fire engines, potato trucks and of course all of the floats. The floats were especially fun because the theme of this year’s parade was inexplicably “pirates”. Each of the 30 or so floats had some sort of pirate on board. It was a little strange, but the boys loved it! Eli practiced his new found waving ability and used the opportunity to wave at every one in the parade. And Evan was the lucky recipent of a very cool cardboard pirate hat that a little girl from one the floats gave to him. He was delighted, and he looked adorable! He immediately put it on and kept it on until we got home.

After the parade, the boys got their bathes and into their jammies and then Grandma and Grampy took Evan to see the fireworks. It was the perfect end to a blonde’s summer day!

The Beach House

2008-06-30T20:31:00.003-05:00

The dirt road dead ends just before the beach begins. We take a left on to another dirt road. Our home for the week is tucked close to the end of this road sitting above a quiet stretch of beach with a view of the sunset. Our house is comfortable and quiet – or at least it is when the boys are sleeping.

To say our beach is quiet is a quaint understatement. The sand is red – as red as Eli’s hair; and the surf is calm. So calm, that Evan will wade in, fearlessly. The only other people on the beach are out of ear shot, and nearly out of sight. We have a giant tract of beach to ourselves. We can run and shout and play to our heart’s content and never have to worry about disturbing anyone.

Just down the beach we can see the North Cape Canadian Wind Farm. The windmills look like great pieces of modern sculpture and provide an elegant backdrop to our relaxation. Evan is fascinated by the windmills. He takes every opportunity to look at and study the windmills, peppering us with questions about their purpose and operation.

It's foggy today, so we decide to head out in search of supplies and do some exploring along the way.

On the road - Day 2

2008-06-29T14:32:00.004-05:00

After a quick stop at Bagel Central for the world's best, hot fresh bagels, we headed out of Bangor for the long drive across Maine and New Brunswick. It was overcast and cool again, but it was a good day for travel.

After a couple of hours of driving we stopped at New River Beach Provincial Park outside of St. John, New Brunswick. Pat and I camped here years earlier on one of our Canadian adventures, so we knew it was a great place to run around and get the sillies out.

The tide was out, and since New Brunswick has the highest (and lowest) tides in the world we had a massive expanse of beach all to our selves. Pat and Evan immediately began a game of chase. Not to be left out, Eli quickly joined in the fun. Then all four of us were running, screaming and laughing down the beach.
Once "chase" was over the boys took turns being thrown into the air by Dad. As you can see Eli got some serious hang time. Evan was more cautious, and only wanted be thrown "a little high".

Feeling refreshed, we dug out our picnic food, and climbed back in the car to enjoy a moving picnic.

On the road to Prince Edward Island

2008-06-28T14:07:00.000-05:00

We arrived at our hotel after a rainy but quiet ride. The boys slept for most of the ride and Pat and I had a chance to talk and enjoy each other’s company. Which sounds silly, since we do live together, but the past few months have been a whirlwind of activity, projects, illness and general chaos. Rare is the day that we can have an uninterrupted conversation about dinner choices, never mind anything of importance. But today the snoring from the backseat was a special break. Even though it was cold and rainy we were off to go a good start on this adventure. After all, escaping the house and it’s unending clutter, and the deck project that will not end, is just what this family needs.

We checked into a Comfort Inn next to the mall in Bangor. It was your standard sterile Comfort Inn room, far from fancy but clean and livable. However, as far as Evan was concerned, we had just checked into the Four Seasons. As we walked down the endless brown hallway (brown carpet, brown walls, brown ceiling even) Evan was giddy.

“Oohhhh, I’m so ‘cited!” he cooed with delight.

Once we unlocked the door and went inside the room Evan could hardly contain himself.
“I LOVE this place!” he screamed and immediately headed for the beds to begin jumping.

If he’s this excited by the Comfort Inn, wait until the real adventure beings.

The batting cage

2008-06-27T07:42:00.003-05:00

Last night we made a family outing to "Mel's" a family entertainment complex complete with go-carts, batting cages, mini golf, ice cream, and perhaps most exciting waterfalls!

Pat went inside to buy tokens for the go-carts but instead came out with a baseball bat. To my chagrin he gave Evan a helmet and brought him into the slow-pitch softball batting cage. Call me crazy, or over protective, or a fun spoiler (they're all true) but I was afraid that Evan was going to get beemed by a ball.

I should have had more faith in Evan's abilities. Despite the fact he is not yet four, and just barely over 3 feet tall, Evan was making contact with the ball! He had a couple of solid hits and a whole bunch of foul balls. He was delighted with himself and begged to go again. This time I was happy to oblige.

Strawberry Picking

2008-06-21T19:10:00.004-05:00

We took the boys strawberry picking today. It's an annual tradition that just seems to get bettter every year. Last year Eli slept in his car seat and Evan was more a "helper", taking the berries I had picked and putting them in the basket for me.

But this year, Evan picked his own berries, thank you very much. And Eli, he was just hungry. He would pick berries out of our baskets, take a big bite and throw it back. Since I was busy picking it took me a while to notice that he wasn't eating the whole berry. I then spent several minutes picking out the half eaten berries, (which I happily ate) before I eventually had to move the basket to a different row out of reach of his red stained hands. When he wasn't eating, he happliy wandered up and down the rows taking off his hat and putting it back on. Perhaps next year he will be ready to be my helper.

At the end of an hour, despite Eli's appetite for strawberries, we had more than enough berries to bring home and enjoy.

So Tired...

2008-06-03T19:09:00.004-05:00

I'm tired. No, make that exhausted. I can't remember the last time I slept for more than three consecutive hours. Eli has yet another head cold, acquired just days after recovering from Strep Throat. Oh! And speaking of Strep Throat, Pat was diagnosed with his second bout of it today. For those keeping score, this is our third round of Strep in 4 weeks.

I'm frustrated. The house is mess and no one feels well. I know there are better days ahead. I know that in the grand scheme of things we are very fortunate. And I also know that these setbacks in health and house cleanliness are temporary. But, sometimes it's hard to see the silver lining. It's hard to remember that this is only temporary when it has felt so permanent for so many weeks.

If only I could sleep. If only Eli could sleep through the night (instead of in his high chair!) . If only his nose would stop running, he might.

Strep Throat Strikes Again!

2008-05-22T20:34:00.004-05:00

Just when I thought our lives were returning to normal, Strep Throat came back to haunt us. It started with Eli who with a burning fever spent Saturday night vomiting. Sunday morning the vomiting stopped, but the fever wouldn't go down. We got an appointment at the doctor for Sunday afternoon. By the time we arrived at the office Eli's fever was nearly 105. My sleep deprived anxiety was in high gear.

But, as it turns out, it was Strep Throat. After a dose of Motrin that stayed down, Eli's fever broke. But he was still feeling miserable.

By the time I went to bed on Sunday night my throat was suspiciously soar and I had the chills. Awesome! Sure enough by morning I could barely function. Off to the doctor with me. You guessed it, Strep Throat.

We're all on the mend. And so far Evan has remained well. I am cautiously optimistic, but given our luck with health this month, I'm not holding my breath.

The Mother's Day Card

2008-05-19T19:57:00.001-05:00

Evan made me a beautiful Mother's Day card at school. With the help of his teacher he wrote the following:

"My mom is 5 years old.
She likes to wear Boston Red Sox Jammies.
She always goes to the grocery store.
Sometimes she buys ice cream.
The best thing about my mom is she plays with me."

Even though I actually don't wear Red Sox Jammies, and believe it or not, I am slightly older than 5, I was moved to tears. It's nice to be recognized by the little rascal and to know that he loves me in his own special way.

The Instigator

2008-05-17T08:22:00.007-05:00

I realize that often I write more about Evan. This has nothing to do with favoritism. Nor is it a result of Eli being boring or any less bright than his brother. Quite the contrary, Eli is just as quirky, smart and funny as his brother. Evan just happens to be what Pat and I refer to as a "resource hog", meaning he commands a disproportional amount of time and attention. Not to mention that his anctics are usually noteworthy.

However, since we've been home from India, Eli has been changing rapidly and becoming his own little person. And while there is a strong family resemblance, he couldn't be any more different than his brother. For starters he likes to play quietly by himself. A most golden trait and clearly one he did not learn from Evan.

He also enjoys instigating trouble, which is perhaps his most amusing trait, and clearly one he inherited from his father. Eli loves to rile up his brother. And while it is often funny, it can also be frustrating. Eli will toddle by and pull his brother's hair, or give him a playful shove. Or best of all, yell - just for sport. This makes Evan (and me) crazy. In response, Evan will scream back in anger. Sensing a game, Eli will scream again. Back and forth they scream, Evan in anger, Eli for fun. My efforts at a talking resolution are usually screamed over, and then I too have to yell to be heard. Good times. This fun little exercise usually ends with a distraction for Eli and a reprimand for Evan, who just doesn't seem to understand that his screaming makes it worse.

But the boys have plenty of fun together too. They wrestle and play ball together, and they have also invented their own games of restaurant and library that they quietly and happily play together. A little brother was just what Evan needed.

Eli is a funny little guy and had been the perfect addition to our lives. In addition to his screaming and instigating, he has many other hobbies including:

Unrolling entire rolls of toilet paper.
Putting scraps of said TP into the toilet.
Throwing and retrieving his ball
Walking like Frankenstein
Growling
Playing Legos
Harassing his brother

The cheese stick

2008-05-12T20:05:00.005-05:00

At some point last week amidst all the tooth pain and not eating I offered Evan a cheese stick. He loves them, and I thought it might be soft enough to eat. I was sadly mistaken. He tried to take a bit of the cheese stick and immediately melted into tears.

"I can't bite it Mommy" he sobbed.

It was so sad. He reminded me three times that day that he couldn't eat the cheese stick. Which was not only sad but frustrating since he actually wanted to eat it, and because we still didn't know why he couldn't. But the kicker was when we went to the dentist two days later, the dentist asked him if his tooth was still bothering him. Of course, Evan, with his razor sharp memory, says, "Yes. I can't eat the cheese stick." So, so sad.

Well, this afternoon I unwrapped a cheese stick for Eli's afternoon snack and put it on the counter. Evan walked by, saw the cheese stick and said, "Mmmm. Cheese stick. Can I eat it?"

As soon as he had taken his first bite, mouth full of cheese, Evan excitedly exclaimed, "I can eat the cheese stick! Mommy, I can eat the cheese stick again!"

Who knew a cheese stick could make two people so happy?

Grocery Store

2008-05-11T18:13:00.001-05:00

We made a family outing to the grocery store tonight. The boys and I usually go during the day, but tonight Pat joined us. Given the delighful addition of an extra set of hands we were able to split up to tackle the list. I stopped at the deli to order the cold cuts and Pat and the boys got ahead. As the man from the deli was slicing the cheese (insert your own fart joke here) we heard the sound of Eli shrieking with delight at the top of his lungs. Immediately followed by Evan joining in unison. The store was otherwise quiet on this Sunday night, except for the noisy mischief coming from the Kaplo cart. The man at the deli shook his head and said "Wow".

I blushed. "That one is mine." I said.

"Doesn't sound like much fun." He offered sympathetically.

"Actually" I countered, "Believe it or not, those are happy noises. It's more fun than it sounds".

He smiled and shook his head one more time ,"I'm sure it is."

I claimed my cheese and set out to find the cart full of shrieking children, which was easy to track. I found them six aisles away (yes, six), still shrieking and laughing as they drew smiles from their fellow shoppers.

The Tooth Fairy

2008-05-10T22:24:00.003-05:00

Evan shows off his tooth

If there is a silver lining to a tooth extraction at age 3 1/2 it's a visit from the Tooth Fairy! The day before the extraction I secretly bought a cool "Lightning McQueen" matchbox car. (For those not in the know, Lightning McQueen is an animated car from Evan's all time favorite movie "Cars". )

Thursday night I read him The Berenstein Bears Visit the Dentist. Sister Bear has a loose tooth that the dentist "wiggles" out for her and then the tooth fairy comes. It seemed like a good primer for what was to come. As Pat put him to bed I overheard him say that; "Dr. Englander (or Gan-ged-ger as Evans says) is going to wiggle my tooth out tomorrow." I was pleased that he understood.

I was anxious all morning, but Evan was excited to go see the dentist. I was sent to the waiting room during the extraction where I could hardly sit still. Fifteen minutes later they came to get me and told me he had been a great patient. My heart was racing. I was sure he would be a crying mess when I went in. Instead he was sitting calmly in the chair and was happy to see me. He chose a dinosaur finger puppet as his prize from the treasure chest for being such a super patient. He slipped it on his finger and immediately started growling at everyone. To my delight, I saw the wild, playful boy I had been missing all week.

The only time he was upset all day was when the novocaine wore off. He did not like the tingling sensation and was upset for a few minutes. Otherwise he had a great day and even had some food, and lots of ice cream - per the dentist's orders.

When it was time for bed Evan didn't want the tooth under his pillow. So we put it on his monkey throw pillow beside his bed for the Tooth Fairy to find.

This morning I woke to an excited whisper. "Mommy! It's Lightning McQueen!" I opened my eyes to see Evan holding the car with a huge smile on his face.

"Did the Tooth Fairy bring you that?" I asked

"YES! The Tooth Fairy bringed me Lightning McQueen for my tooth!"

That brief fleeting moment was a small bright spot in what had otherwise been a very difficult week.

From bad to worse...

2008-05-10T21:48:00.002-05:00

Last week was hard. Exhausting. Frustrating. By Sunday evening I was sure we'd turned the corner. But Sunday night things were really just beginning. Evan was awake again all night complaining of tooth pain. Back to the dentist first thing Monday morning. They put him on antibiotics and told me to keep an eye on things - (as though I weren't). At the same time Pat had been diagnosed with Strep Throat and was a miserable mess. By Monday afternoon Evan had a high fever and a swollen face. Since he had just started the antibiotics I knew I needed to wait 24 hours, and worked on treating the fever.

The fever broke on Tuesday, but his face was still swollen. He still wouldn't eat and continued to complain of pain. I called the dentist again. This time they discovered it wasn't the new crowns bothering him, but an abscessed tooth on the bottom. It would have to come out. My heart sank, but at least we knew why he was still in pain. We scheduled the extraction for Friday to give the increased dose of antibiotics time to work.

For the next couple of days Evan was comfortable and happy enough as long as the Tylenol was working. When it wore off he was miserable. He was still refusing to eat - even ice cream - which should be an indication of just how miserable he was. I made his favorite smoothies and sneaked in some tofu for extra protein, and then I bought some Ensure (chocolate milk to Evan) to make sure he was getting the nutrition he needed to fight this infection.

Evan is a challenge on his best day, but when he isn't sleeping or eating and is in near constant pain the word "challenge" seems quaint. He was irritable, combative and prone to screaming tantrums in very public places. Despite all of this I maintained my patience and treated him calmly. I knew what he was suffering through, I have been through it all. It breaks my heart that he had to inherit my terrible teeth. It's unjust. I remember when I was pregnant being fearful to the point of tears that his teeth would be bad like mine. I know it was and is beyond my control and I know I have much to be thankful for. Both of my boys are very healthy, bright and beautiful. I have been very fortunate. As a child I suffered through dozens of dental surgeries and I survived. It wasn't fun or easy, but I got through it and he will too. I just wish he didn't have to. Especially given the aggravation and missed diagnosis of this past week. Despite all he went through he looked forward to going to the dentist and was a super patient.

The Infirmary

2008-05-03T13:09:00.003-05:00

This has been a tough week. Not only has the weather been miserable, but our family's health has been as well. Evan came home from school on Monday vomiting. The fever came on Tuesday. Wednesday Eli was diagnosed with a double ear infection. Then Evan stayed up all of Friday night complaining of tooth pain. Saturday morning I took him to the dentist where he ended up with two stainless steel crowns. Somewhere in the midst of all of this Pat and I each came down with a head cold. I can't remember my last full night's sleep. We are all tired and frankly overwhelmed (at least I am). But I am hoping the worst is now behind us, and we can now look forward to some rest, good health, and sunshine.

New Bike Glow

2008-04-01T09:01:00.001-05:00

Still reveling in the glory of his new big boy bike, Evan woke me up this morning with his helemt on (and still in his pajamas), ready to ride. In his sweetest voice he whispered, "Mommy, it's time to wake up, so I can ride my bike-cycle."

The Happiest Boy Alive

2008-03-31T07:57:00.006-05:00

Since the weather has been getting nicer the boys and I have been going for walks in the afternoon. Everyday that it wasn't snowing last week, we would bundle up and head out. Evan rode his tricycle while I pushed Eli in the stroller. Both boys loved our walks, so most days we went out twice. Evan, however, has grown A LOT over the past year and his tricycle was suddenly way too small. As he pedaled along down the street his knees were coming just an inch below the handle bars. I mentioned this to Pat and suggested it might be time for a "big boy" bicycle.

So last night, on the way home from Boston, we stopped at Wal Mart and found a beauty of a big boy bike, called the RockIt. Evan fell in love at first sight. After picking out a helmet, he put it on and pushed his bike all the way to the registers. As soon as we got home he helped Daddy check it over and tighten the training wheels. Then he was off and riding. He was nervous at first, it was bigger and harder to pedal, but within five minutes he had the hang of it and was tearing through the house like a pro.

He would stop every few minutes and in his sweetest, most excited voice, thank us for buying him a big boy bike. Then off he'd ride again. One time he stopped and said, "I'm not going to fight with you anymore at Target, or Barnes and Noble, or Lowe's, any of those places". My dream come true! And, while that statement alone would have made the purchase worthwhile, I'm not sure I have ever seen him happier. He was all smiles and his excitement was contagious. Pat and I stood back to soak in the moment as one boy pedaled joyously through the house, and the other tentatively walked behind him.

Happy Easter!

2008-03-23T18:18:00.005-05:00

We dyed eggs this morning. Went to Meme and Pepes house for a yummy Easter dinner. And we ate lots of chocolate. Everything Easter should be!

A Little Leprechaun Love!

2008-03-21T13:15:00.002-05:00

911

2008-03-19T21:33:00.004-05:00

Eli called 911. It happened innocently enough. He loves the phone and managed to get his hands on it. He was in my lap, so I was aware that he had the phone and periodically checked to be sure he wasn't calling anyone. Then to my chagrin I heard the telltale sounds of the phone dialing. I grabbed the phone and hit "END". Eli broke into a loud, raucous scream of anger and disgust at the grave injustice he was served.

The phone rang almost immediately. No caller ID info. Suspicious. But I answered it anyway. Eli seeing me with the phone again was re-angered and began a hearty wail louder than before. I asked the caller to please hold on because I couldn't hear what they were saying. I handed Eli to Hemanth and adjourned to the kitchen so I could hear. To my absolute horror the caller identified herself as "An operator from Manchester City 911". She was calling because they had received a call from our phone.

Embarrassment, nay, humiliation surged through me. I politely explained what had happened (while Eli screamed in the next room) and begged her forgiveness repeatedly. She was kind and professional and assured me it was not a problem. I was feeling pretty small, baffled by the odds that Eli could actually dial 911 and then hit "SEND". Then the phone rang again. This time the caller ID read "Manchester City". Now I was feeling even smaller.

It was yet another operator following up on the 911 call and assuring our safety. I sheepishly recounted the story ... again, then apologized another half dozen times. After I hung up, I jokingly said, they'll probably send a cruiser. They didn't. They sent TWO! Yup. Two cruisers pulled up across the street and then came to our front door with an authoritative knock.

The officers were friendly and professional. They looked us over as I recounted the story for a third time, emphasizing that the baby was crying because I had taken the phone away, and that I had not realized that he had dialed 911. (I checked the redial and there were a dozen numbers on the screen, the first three just happened to be 911) They apparently decided we were alright and went on their way.

My private humiliation was now public for all the neighbors to see. But I was impressed with the protocol and professionalism of all involved. I'm sure I'll probably see another cruiser pass by in a day or two, but I suppose there are worse things.

The Lunchbox

2008-01-31T13:06:00.001-05:00

Evan is eating lunch at school now. So each morning this week I packed him a little borwn bag to take to school. Yesterday, however, while I was out shopping I found a very cute monkey lunchbox. I was thinking practically (and environmentally), but for Evan it was love at first sight. He carried the lunchbox through the store, handed it to the cashier long enough for scanning and then took it back. When we got home he took his new lunchbox to bed for his nap. Then proceeded to carry it with him all evening - it rode in the back of his bike, it came to the dinner table, and even sat on the couch so the monkey could watch Evan and Daddy play football. The monkey lunchbox was there for bath time, although not in the tub, and then of course into bed last night. He even had me talk to "Friendly Monkey Lunchbox"as he calls him, but not just 'Hi, How are you?' I had to talk "Alot" to him.

This morning he couldn't wait for me to put his lunch in the box. He instructed me where everything should go and scolded me for putting the jucie on the wrong side. Then he carried his packed lunchbox upstairs so he could get dressed and brush his teeth. Then, finally, the packed lunchbox made it to it's ultimate destination - the lunch box shelf at school. I had feared he would insist on the lunchbox playing with him at school, but it didn't seem to be an issue. When I returned to pick him up this afternoon he was eating his lunch with Friendly Monkey Lunchbox smiling beside him.

First Day of School

2008-01-28T20:55:00.000-05:00

Evan began preschool today, and I am happy to announce that he loves it! Upon our arrival this morning, I was nervous, but hopeful. Would he follow directions? Participate with the group? Would he meltdown? Would he have the time of his life? He gave Eli and me kisses goodbye, and without further fanfare I left.

When I returned 3 hours later he was having a snack. When he saw me he happily proclaimed that he was EATING GOLDFISH! Then he told me about painting (one of his favorite activities), the book they read about snowmen, and the cool trucks he got to play with. He was so excited, and so was I. As we put on jacket and boots to leave, Evan went and hugged his teachers goodbye. Yes, my son, the one who demonstrably hates goodbyes hugged his teachers. The same teachers who were strangers to him just hours before.

As we piled into the car, he found Blue Fish, his big stuffed fish from the story One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish by Dr. Seuss, and held him on his lap. As we pulled out of the parking lot he proceeded to tell me how happy Blue Fish was. I was beaming from the front seat. If Blue Fish is happy - Evan is happy. If Evan is happy - all is well with the world.

A Winter Hike

2008-01-27T21:38:00.000-05:00

We woke this morning to discover that it was snowing and decided it was a perfect day to embrace winter and head out for a hike.

We bundled up the boys in snowsuits and hats and mittens and then loaded them into sled and backpack and journeyed into the white silence of the woods. It was a perfect day for hiking. The air was cold, but fresh - standing in stark contrast to our last several months in India. A fresh clean blanket of snow covered the ground and the trees. The woods were quiet except for the sounds of boots and sled on snow and our contented chatter. The boys rode like kings, happy and warm, undaunted by cold or work. All of us enjoying the simple bliss of being outdoors and the cocoa and hot coffee to come.

ANOTHER Buddha!

2007-12-08T03:35:00.000-05:00

We had a 4 day weekend for Diwali and used the time to visit the Buddhist caves of Ellora and Ajanta - both World Heritage Sites. We took the overnight train from Hyderabad arriving at a painful 4:00 am. However, the caves were more than worth the journey. Fellow Fulbright Teacher, Rodney Kleber (from MA) met us in Aurangabad and together with Erin we went caving.

Tucked in to an otherwise unspectacular hillside the caves of Ellora where breathtaking. The caves served as monastaries, meditation rooms, and temples. Intricate carvings, dating back thousands of years, decorate the courtyards and interiors, the centerpiece of each being one large Buddha statue standing (or rather sitting) several meters tall.

Evan was eager to explore, or should I say run wildly, through the caves and tiny meditation rooms. He became even more excited when he discovered Buddha. In an effort to keep him distracted I showed him how the Buddha was sitting, and how he held his hands. I did my best to explain why he was sitting like that, and where his toes went, and that no, Buddha is not sleeping, just meditating. He seemed confused by the idea of sitting really still for no purpose, but he was hooked just the same. After the discovery of Buddha Evan was on a quest for more. As we went exploring, every cave became a new opportunity to find more Buddhas, and to ask more questions about what he was doing, or why the rock was so old. Before long, every carving became the Buddha. "ANOTHER Buddha!" He would shout with animated delight.

The final cave at Ellora is the most magnificent. Kailasa Temple (also known less glamorously as Cave 16) was an enormous three leveled rock-cut Hindu temple with tremendous carved elephants around the periphery. Absolutely stunning. Evan commenced his Buddha search, despite the fact that it was not a Buddhist cave, but it really didn't matter.

It was a beautiful place and a beautiful experience. The highlight for me being Evan's innocent enjoyment of Buddhist art. The really neat thing is that the experience has stuck with him. He now likes to "sit like the Buddha" legs crossed, hands in prayer. A few times we have averted tantrums by sitting like Buddha to take a deep breath. And just the other day as he was coloring he explained that he was drawing a cave with a Buddha inside.

Devaraja Market

2007-12-06T23:46:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite things about India is the bazaars. They are colorful landscapes of chaotic energy. Stall after stall of fruits, flowers and sweets piled high, all of which can be yours for the right price. I love the vibrant bustle and chaos. The bazaars are also a photographer's paradise. The enticing displays and animated vendors make wonderful subjects, as do the saree clad shoppers with enormous baskets atop their heads.

Mysore has a wonderfully colorful fruit and vegetable market called the Devaraja Market tucked downtown. Our driver tried to divert us to the pricey tourist trap souvenir markets - but we wanted colorful, cheap fun and asked to be dropped at the market. Begrudgingly he obliged.

We spent almost two hours roaming the alleyways of the marketplace. We found lanes filled with thousands and thousands of bananas of every conceivable variety. Apple and potato vendors with displays that defied gravity; succulent stacks of papaya. But there was more to be had than just fruits and veggies. The incense-wallahs enticed us with free hand made samples and a demonstration of their craft. Perfumers mix scents to our specifications. There are floral garlands by the meter and colorful tikka powder by the kilo. You might also have a key made, or buy a wooden spoon.

Two hours and 100 photos later it was time to leave the intensity of the market behind and head for lattes in the air conditioned comfort of Cafe Coffee Day.

The Backwaters of Kerala

2007-12-05T12:18:00.000-05:00

The homes, boats and scenery slip by silently as we coast through the backdrop of the lives that inhabit these waters. We are not the only houseboat on the water, nor are we the only foreigners, so the locals do not even give us a second glance. It's peaceful, and beautiful, out on these waters. The network of communities lining the canals and waterways seem just like other Indian villages, only they inhabit narrow spits of lands and the only vehicle traffic is on the water.

As we pass through one such village I hear the melodic Call to Prayer competing with the sound of clothes being washed along the banks. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. The sound of wet fabric hitting the rocks. I watch a solitary canoe glide by noiselessly.

We anchor for the night on a tiny, palm lined spit of land between two waterways. Silence. We enjoy a sumptuous South Indian dinner and share a bottle of Indian wine as we watch the sun slip below the clouds on the horizon.

We wake in the morning to find the adjacent waterway filled with lotus flowers that have opened in the early morning light. White flowers and lily pads as far as the eye could see, palm trees lining the perimeter. The beautiful silence of early morning (so this is why people wake up early!) I feel far away from India, far away from home. This brief, delicious silence is the quietest time we have spent, and probably will spend on the sub-continent. A short journey in our houseboat will bring us back to the heat and bustle of reality and steer us toward our next adventure.

The Parade!

2007-11-25T02:29:00.000-05:00

The purpose of our trip to Mysore was to see the famed Dussehra parade. Who could resist the allure of a parade that promised elephants, golden thrones, and dancing girls?

We met up with the Amstutz Family to watch the parade. Paul is a fellow Fulbright teacher, his wife Karen is a park ranger at Yosemite, and together with their three beautiful daughters aged 3, 6 and 9 they are living and teaching in Bangalore. He and his family are perhaps the most adventurous people I have ever met - they make us seem boring by comparison.

Paul and family got an earlier start and found an excellent viewpoint very near our hotel. As we walked the street in search of the Amstutz family I was in absolute awe of the magnitude of the crowds packed onto the sidewalks, in the trees, and on roof tops. Others packed onto the flat bed trucks that served as roadblocks and impromptu seating. If we saw tens of thousands at the palace the night before, then there were easily hundreds of thousands lining the streets now for the parade. The crowds alone were an amazing spectacle.

We sat, as patiently as possible, in the hot sun for hours waiting for the parade to begin. As we waited we got to enjoy the company of our American friends, swapping crazy India stories, and the joys and pains of travelling with children.

When the parade finally reached us it was more than worth the wait! It was everything a parade should be: vibrant, colorful, loud, garish. There were elephants, drums, dancers, fire breathers, puppets, acrobats, men on stilts, gods, goddesses, missiles, musicians, and a golden throne. It was sensational!

I think the parade speaks best through images, so I will let the pictures do the rest of the talking. Click on the link below to see Pat's slide show:

Mysore Parade Slide Show

Mysore Palace

2007-11-24T22:09:00.000-05:00

Dussehra is a Hindu celebration of the triumph of good over evil and is dedicated to the goddess Durga, who, legend has it, beheaded a demon and freed the people. Durga was the patron goddess of the former Maharajah in Mysore, and thus Dussehra is celebrated with vibrant zeal in the city.

Mysore is an historic city, home of royalty and a former seat of power. The Maharajah's palace and it's sprawling grounds are the centerpiece to Mysore's cultural beauty. During the Dussehra Festival the palace is illuminated in the evening with 97,000 lights, and it is a spectacular sight!

I think it is safe for me to say, without exaggeration, that there were tens of thousands of people who came out to see the palace. I could not believe the crowds in and around the palace grounds. It was an overwhelming carnival atmosphere with the lights and the hawkers and the popcorn and candy floss. It was a wild scene!

After weaving through the crowds and taking our pictures we began the arduous task of trying to find our driver amongst the chaos in the streets. It was literally like trying to find a needle in a haystack. If there is one thing about India that still amazes me, it is the sheer volumes of people everywhere we go. Tonight, more than ever, the crowds were overwhelming, but as usual we were far from being anonymous. As we tried to find our driver I got tired of the attention and the constant touching of the boys, so for the first time I put up a wall. I used my body to put a physical barrier between the crowds and my children. I ignored requests for pictures and turned away when people reached out to touch Eli. I felt rude, guilty even, but justified - there is only so much attention and touching we can bear.

36 Hairpin Turns and 1000 Stairs

2007-11-23T03:14:00.000-05:00

What goes up, must come down, and I was more than happy to be leaving Ooty and our stinky hostel in search of warmer weather and clean sheets. On the advice of our guide we took a bus down the mountain from Ooty to Mysore. It seemed like a great idea since it would be considerably cheaper than a hiring a car. Unfortunately, what we saved in Rupees we lost in time, comfort and frustration.

After circling Ooty for an hour and a half in a desperate attempt to fill the bus, I was stiff and uncomfortable. I was sitting on top of the wheel and therefore had considerably less foot room and my knees were jammed into the seat in front of me. When we finally started our arduous journey down the mountain my personal discomfort turned to abject horror. The driver, obviously a seasoned veteran of this road, sped up between turns overtaking cars, cows and motorcycles with little regard for blind curves. The engine was revving hard never leaving second gear and the brakes were creaking and groaning around the turns. The road down from Ooty has 36 hairpin turns (I wish I were making this up) and at each turn there was a large yellow sign indicating what number hairpin we had just survived. Knees jammed, teeth clenched, legs asleep, I counted down and began to wonder if the $15 we saved was really worth it.

We arrived in Mysore five hours later (more than two hours behind schedule). Our hotel, I was pleased to note, had such modern amenities as air conditioning (suddenly necessary again), cable television, and best of all sheets that did not smell of mildew. We didn't stick around long though... Next stop Chamundi Hill.

Chamundi sits just 2 km from the center of town. The 1000 meter hill provides a scenic backdrop to the tidy and charming city of Mysore and sitting at the summit is a stunning and dramatic temple. In order to reach the temple pilgrims must climb the 1000 stairs leading up the mountain - the less pious can drive. For us there was no question - we would climb!

It was a beautiful, albeit sweaty, journey to the top. There were lovely views of the city, flowers, trees, and most interestingly - hundreds of large hairy spiders hanging in webs above the stairs.

Once we finally reached the summit a fog had rolled in making the temple seem even more dramatic in scale and beauty. There were thousands of people around the temple creating a kind of festive spiritual atmosphere. Pilgrims bowing in prayer sharing space with hawkers selling balloons, noise makers and flutes.

I am happy to be in the swirling chaos of this place.

Postcard from Ooty

2007-11-22T05:39:00.000-05:00

Ooty... how I wanted to love you.

I was so excited to go to Ooty - a real, honest to goodness hill station. Mountains, trees, fresh air, tea plantations, I could hardly wait. We hired a car to take us up the long, steep and winding mountain road to Ooty. Our driver was a madman passing cars on every turn, but despite this fact the drive was fantastic. We passed through acres and acres of lush, green tea growing on impossibly steep terraces, and the views of neighboring mountains, valleys, and towns were stunning.

When we rolled into town I was still excited. It was cool - sweater weather for sure. The air smelled wonderfully of eucalyptus and the view of town from our hostel was lovely. The room? Well it would have been charming had it not been for the lack of heat and the smell of mildew emanating from the beds. Trying to stay positive about the situation, I decided it would be like camping. And off we went to explore what would turn out to be a disappointing, dirty, stinky little town.

Tempted by our guidebook we ate what I considered to be over hyped and overpriced pizza for lunch. Then headed to the botanical gardens for what started out as a lovely afternoon. However, shortly after our arrival rain moved in quite suddenly and ended the serenity. As we left the gardens the rain subsided enough to allow us to explore the Nepalese bazaar, which ended up being stall after stall of the same stuff. However, we did find some GREAT woolen shawls for a steal and stocked up from a beautiful Nepalese woman.

The rest of the sites we visited that day were disappointing and the cold gray weather began to wear on us. We returned to the hostel and built a fire and spent the best part of the day warm and relaxed, enjoying one anothers company.

Day two turned out to be much more fun. We hired a guide to take us on a full day trek through tea plantations, remote villages and up a mountain. It was really beautiful despite the fog and the occasional shower.

Our guide turned out to be quite friendly and knowledgeable and taught us all about the growing and harvesting tea as well as the people who depended on it for their livelihoods. He also shared the history of the region and educated us in local flora and fauna. We passed through a small village where we enjoyed a delicious hot meal in a tiny, dark, unmarked restaurant with a dirt floor. As we headed out of the village to ascend the mountain our guide pointed out a cow that was afraid of white people. Which sounds ridiculous, but he really did appear spooked as he watched us pass. The mountain we hiked supposedly had a superb view, which unfortunately, we were able to glimpse in for mere seconds before the fog enveloped the landscape again. Our guide told us we were unlucky to miss this view but later reminded us - for the second time - that we were truly "blessed" to have two sons.

I was happy to warm myself by the fire that evening, but couldn't wait to move on to warmer climates.

Postcard from Varkala

2007-11-17T04:46:00.000-05:00

By the time we arrived in Varkala it was dark. Although we could not see much, we could hear the soothing sounds of the ocean lapping the shore and the distant twinkle of the cliff top lights across the beach. After settling into our hotel, which were charming round "chalets", we headed to the beach to find some food. We took a table in the sand and ordered beer. It was the start of a wonderfully relaxing three hour dinner where lifetime friendships were forged over chutneys and coconut rice. Eli slept soundly and Evan happily made railroad tracks in the sand.

In the morning light we discovered that Varkala is small, laid back and very beautiful. Despite the dramatic setting it was not however a beach for sun bathing. We arrived with suits on ready for a day in the sand only to find a small handful of fully dressed men loitering in the sand. There were also an army of stray dogs and the sand was a minefield of poop. The surf was intense and the rip tide strong. We quickly abandoned our plans for a beach day and sought out the Taj Garden Hotel where we spent an incredibly relaxing day sipping pina coladas in the pool and dining on an "opulent" lunch (as described by Lonely Planet).

Later in the evening we walked along the cliff top and did some shopping in the myriad of Nepalese handicraft shops, t-shirt stalls, and souvenir stands. We bargained hard for some great gifts for our friends as well as for ourselves. A leisurely dinner capped off another relaxing day.

The view from our hotel

Riding the Rails

2007-11-16T06:40:00.000-05:00

We took our first train ride today on the famed Indian Railway. I wish I could say I did it gracefully. Alas the unbearable heat, cranky children and the odd anxiety of finding the right car got the best of me.

The train system in India is vast and complicated, and yet in many ways surprisingly efficient. The cars are comfortable and clean, and snack vendors and chai wallahs (tea vendors) keep you fed and caffeinated. The downside of the Indian railway system is that while all the cars are clearly marked, the order that the cars will arrive in is anyone’s guess. So it becomes necessary to stand in the middle on the platform, preferably near the middle, watch the cars pass and then hurry in the direction of your car. The other staggering negative is that there are no formal announcements at any of the stops. So you must know the approximate time of your arrival and watch for your stop – very unnerving when it is your first time to a destination.

We had an enormous suitcase – two if you count Erin’s, a diaper bag, camera bag, laptop and two children thus making quick mobility limited. So as the train approached I watched anxiously for the Third Class A/C cars to pass by. Luckily for us they stopped near the middle of the train, and thus a short walk from our lookout. As we rushed aboard, the car was cool and welcoming, the man blocking the first set of empty berths was not. He smiled politely and pointed us to the next set of berths, which were covered in blankets, food wrappers and even a pair of socks! I became horribly panicked and confused as we tried in earnest to communicate. Eli, hot tired and hungry wailed uncharacteristically.

We were getting no where with this gentleman who was saving the seats for his friends and my anxiety was only growing. In a sudden fit of hot anxious disgust I whined: “I just want to sit down! I don’t care where!”

To which the unflappable Erin smiled and soothingly said: “OK, we’ll sit here. It will be fine, we’ll just move this stuff.” She set to work moving the blankets, trash and socks while Pat stowed the luggage. After which we happily took up residence in our new berth. The cold air quickly calmed me. Eli was pacified by a snack, and before long Evan fell fast asleep. After we enjoyed a hot cup of tea I was able to have a good laugh at my own foolishness, and decided maybe this train stuff is not so bad.

The tourist in me

2007-11-02T02:48:00.000-05:00

So I purchased a skirt today. Seduced by it's orangey coolness I gave in to the ever decreasing price of the seller (and still spent a buck too much). I was pleased with my new skirt. I decided it would keep me cool in this hot, sticky weather. I was pleased that is, until I started seeing my skirt all over town. In every souvenir shop and even on other tourists! Oh, the horror! I was suddenly embarrassed by my new skirt. Embarrassed that in this city of tourists, I suddenly looked like one of them. You see, I was feeling a bit self righteous when we rolled in to Fort Cochin. Suddenly we were surrounded by tourists and trendy restaurants and good coffee!! It was strange to dine only with white people. It was relaxing not to be the center of attention. And fun to eat and drink the delicacies of home. But at the same time I didn't want to be associated with them - these other tourists. I live here. India is my home, however temporary, and I am proud of it. I realize of course that in Fort Cochin and for the rest of our holiday I would be a tourist in every sense of the word. But I began to feel bad for the other tourists in Fort Cochin. If this is what they saw of India, than they were missing the best parts. The fancy coffee shops , swank restaurants and fancy shops were great, but this is not how Indians live. For us it was a wonderful break from the routine of our Indian life. It was a treat to drink coffee and eat carrot cake and quiche. It was nice to be anonymous in a crowd, and fun to shop in the stores. But I hope my fellow tourists had other opportunities to see the real India, and experience the warmth and hospitality of her people. Otherwise I fear they have missed the real magic of India.

Me in my new tourist skirt with Erin and Eli

A Postcard from Fort Cochin

2007-11-01T03:05:00.000-05:00

October 13th. Our Dessara Holiday began today. A long awaited vacation from teaching and living in our little fishbowl. We are travelling with another US teacher named Erin McGraw who is stationed nearby in Hyderabad (her apartment in Hyderabad is perhaps only 10 miles from ours, but given Hyderabadi traffic it is an hour plus journey). Erin hails from Rutland, Vermont, and is a fantastic, unflappable, travel companion. Between tantrums, train anxiety, poopy diapers, hungry and tired children, and hungry and tired parents - travelling with the likes of us isn't for the faint of heart. Lucky for us, Erin took us in stride.

Our journey begins with a flight to Kerala, a small coastal state in the south western corner of the country. It's hot and sticky here on the coast, like Florida in the middle of summer. The air, the landscape, and the language are all different and new, but the scents and sounds remind me we are still in India.

Tonight we are staying in Fort Cochin, a former Portuguese port town. The town is small and pleasant with a warm intimate almost European feel. After checking in to our great little hotel we headed for lunch at the Teapot Restaurant. Here, at the Teapot, we realized that we were in a tourist hot spot. The restaurant was full of Europeans (and only Europeans), and the menu and decor were designed with a western palette in mind. Over pots of tea we laughed at the novelty of blending into the crowd. What a welcome change!

After lunch we headed to the docks to see the Chinese fishing nets. Stopping on the way to visit the Catholic Cathedral and to do a little souvenir shopping. Then we grabbed an auto to Jew Town (I swear I am not making this up). Jew Town is a shopping district that happens to house one of India's only Synagogues. Most of the shops were Kashmiri and sold many of the same types of Kashmiri handicrafts. Tall Kashmiri men with brilliant blue and green eyes worked the shops and offered us "Temptation Prices" on all sorts of handmade goods. Although the merchandise was beautiful we weren't feeling all that tempted. The purchase of the day, however, was a little toy auto rickshaw for Evan. It was like a dream come true for him to have a toy auto. He told me: "I don't like trucks. I only like autos." Between the plane ride and the toy auto it was a great day for him.

After an early dinner of carrot cake and the finest cup of coffee I have had since coming to India we headed to a performance of Kathakali dance. Kathakali is a famous regional dance that the guide book advised was not to be missed. I had my reservations about going, but was very glad we did. The performance was mesmerizing. The performers, wearing elaborate costumes and make-up, use hand and facial gestures to act out a story to the beating of drums and the singing of the narrator. My feeble description does not begin to do justice to the artistry of the performance or the fun in watching it. Evan went to the back of the theater and happily played with his auto on the dirt floor for 2 hours, while Eli slept - drums and all. A successful first day!

Happy Halloween!

2007-10-31T08:32:00.000-05:00

Since coming to India we have been immersed in many Hindu holidays and celebrations each more elaborate and colorful than the next. As October rolled around, we decided it was our turn to introduce the neighborhood children to the greatest of American folk traditions – Halloween! Pat's father graciously sent us a box of party decorations, balloons and face paint, which arrived just in the nick of time! A few weeks before we made piñatas with the children which we then stuffed full of candy, pens and toys. We found pumpkins for carving - which was a huge hit - and apples for dipping in carmel.

I then agonized over what sort of costumes to make for the boys, since supplies were limited and I knew the other children would have simple costumes, if any. In a flash of inspiration I decided at the last minute that Evan could be a stoplight - since I had balloons and little else, and Evan's current favorite game is "Red Light, Green Light. Since Eli is so mobile and probably would have tried to eat anything I could think of putting on him, I transformed a box into a wrapped gift. Eli was delighted to sit in his box and play, and I was happy because it also kept him out of trouble. All in all I was pleased with my last minute ideas.

As the children arrived we set them to work making spiders for the giant web that Pat made outside. Then we brought out the face paint and the girls went crazy with delight! After much discussion, they all decided to be princesses - but different princesses, of course. While the girls applied their make-up, the boys of the group, who were all a bit older, got a lesson in how to carve pumpkins. Evan was content to paint with watercolors and Eli, happy as always, rode in the carrier. The whole apartment was buzzing with excitement and laughter. Everyone was having a great time, perhaps most especially Pat and me. After a long week of bad weather, poor health and homesickness it was a joy to introduce Halloween to these very special children. They wanted to know what Halloween was, why we celebrated it, and how it was different in the US. We happily shared the traditions of costumes, trick or treating, mischief making and even the once important religious significance of the day. Since festivals are of such paramount importance here in India many insisted on shaking our hand and saying "Happy Halloween" when they arrived. It was as always, very endearing.

After pumpkins had been carved and lit, faces had been painted, and carmel apples eaten it was pinata time! Since there would obviously be no trick or treating, pinatas seemed to be a logical alternative to collecting lots of candy. We strung our homemade pinatas on the roof of Sudha's house and all the children, including Evan, got to take a swing at it. The last "child" also being the oldest at 19, smashed it open to great fanfare and commotion. While the children descended on the fallen booty with screams of delight, Evan stood back innocently concerned, asking "What happened to that balloon?"

I have always loved Halloween - what's not to love about dressing up, free candy and spooky decorations? This year, however, was not only very fun, but also very special. I finally felt like I could teach the children something interesting and fun about American culture, and in return the children reminded me of why my experience in India is so meaningful.

The Overnight Train

2007-10-25T03:56:00.000-05:00

October 24th 10:30 pm. Gunakal Train Station.

We are on an overnight train from Bangalore to Hyderabad. This train marks the end of our vacation, although as is always the case in India the journey is a big part of the adventure. We have just pulled into Gunakal Station. This station is nicer than most. It is well lit, there are chairs, trash bins, and tidy tea stalls. It is also bustling with activity at this time of night. I watch anonomously, unnoticed from the hidden comfort of my 2nd class air conditioned sleeper berth, cloaked by tinted glass. Eli sleeps beside me, Evan and Pat sleep above, and Erin, like me, lies on her stomach, rivoted, watching this spectacle of constant motion happening just beyond the glass.

I see saree clad women with bare feet carry bulky jute bags on their heads. Bands of moustachioed men rush to the next train. Three intrepid souls sleep on the platform floor. A pair of young girls wearing long skirts and jasmine in their hair giggle into their hands. A smartly dressed man with a club foot hobbles by. A muslim man sits watching. A preganant woman waddles to a chair to sit. A young man hurrys by carrying an equally young one-legged man on his back. Mysterious women in burkas pass by. An old man in dirt-caked clothing shuffles by wearing shoes of different sizes.

The train leaves the station and heads back into the blackness of the countryside. When I look up this time I only see my own reflection half lit by my tiny bedside lamp. I become aware once again of how different I look. How strange I must seem from the outside looking in. India is a mysterious place - so different, so foreign. I am captivated by the ceaseless activity, the unbounded energy. I relish these expireneces - seeing India at it's most human. No pretense, no pride, no shame. No flute hawkers, no foreigner's price, no touts. Only people living, waiting and boarding trains.

Ganesh

2007-10-08T00:25:00.000-05:00

One of many Ganesh shrines scattered around our neighborhood

Ganesh is the famed Elephant-headed god who is revered as the remover of obstacles and a bearer of good luck. The Indians have a particular fondness for Ganesh - as do I. I love his elephant head, his interesting history and of course, his status as the remover of obstacles. Each year in India there is a 10 day Ganesh-fest, more precisely known as Ganesh Chaturthi, that brings more color and revelry to an already colorful and exciting place.

Ever since we arrived small groups of young boys would come to the door to collect money "for Ganesh". I happily contributed a few rupees to each group of wide eyed boys, not really sure where Ganesh's money was going -but since I always received a receipt it seemed legit.

As it turns out my donations as well as those of all my neighbors were going to purchase large Ganesh idols that would sit in tent houses scattered around the neighborhood and the city. Ganesh was everywhere. It was impossible to walk more than 100 yards in any direction through our little neighborhood without stumbling upon yet another idol. Each Ganesh was different, some were as small as one meter, some as large as three meters. Some where garishly colored, others were plain. But all enjoyed a shrine attended by young men, and an evening ritual of prayer and party.

Every night, just after sunset, the puja to Ganesh would begin, culminating in the sharing of lemon rice and wild drum-induced dancing. It was always a sight to behold. The drumming would last late into the night often after midnight, as the revelers paraded the streets. At the end of 10 days, in a parade rivaling Thanksgiving in New York, 10,000 Ganesh idols were brought to the Hassain Sagar (the large lake in the middle of Hyderabad) to be submerged. What a spectacle! We watched live from the dry comfort of our living room as idol after idol was hoisted by crane and dropped into the water.

However, the most memorable and certainly the most exciting Ganesh evening came just two days into the festival. On this particular evening, our landlord was taking us out on a little adventure to visit a Hindu temple just beyond the city limits. As the landscape became more rural and the traffic thinned we suddenly came upon a large Ganesh idol being pulled down the road by a tractor, surrounded by dozens of men, all of whom were covered in hot pink tikka powder, dancing to a cacophony of drums.

As we stopped the car I suddenly realized we had forgotten the camera. Of all the times to forget! This was just the opportunity I had been waiting for - and no camera. Thankfully our landlord took a few shots to memorialize the experience. As we approached, the excitement of the revelers hit a crescendo. We were presented with lemon rice wrapped in a banana leaf and each of us was adorned with a hot pink tikka on the forehead. As the drumming commenced again Pat was invited to dance. He initially declined, but quickly realized this was a dance worth having and jumped into the fray with arms up. The men of the procession loved it! They grabbed Evan too and he was hoisted onto someones shoulders - to his credit, while slightly alarmed he remained calm. Once the dance was complete all of the men scrambled to shake Pat's hand and offer their thanks. There were about three dozen pink men, and Pat shook hands with them all, offering his thanks in return for another once in a lifetime India experience.

Pat getting down for Ganesh

The Camel Ride

2007-10-03T11:23:00.000-05:00

The morning started very badly. Pat woke not feeling well again. Evan was cranky and Eli bumped his head. A curtain of misery descended on the house. Each in our own way, we were feeling sad and homesick. It seemed the honeymoon was over. Thankfully, however, our funk was nothing that food and rest couldn't cure. By the afternoon we slowly began picking ourselves up out of the mire we were all wallowing in. It started with some good old-fashioned “angry music” (as Pat likes to call it). We turned on some Ani DiFranco, comforted by something distinctly western and befitting of our mood. We sang along and danced like fools reliving memories associated with each song: “Remember when we were driving to New Foundland and we met that weird guy…?” “Remember that crazy hike…?” Even Evan got in on the fun and danced along as we all played ball together. Memories lead to daydreams about the comforts of home: Sal’s Pizza, Starbucks coffee, pho with chicken, fresh air, autumn leaves, fresh apples… I could go on and on. Our day dreaming quickly turned to laughter about the frustrating parts of India – unsafe food and water topping the list. And then the camels arrived.

From our backdoor I spotted them lumbering up the street. Excitement ensued as we rushed to find wallet, camera and shoes so we could go for a ride. Since we are white and obviously made of money (another frustrating aspect of India) the camel boy wanted to charge us five times as much as everyone else. After some serious haggling the camel boy relented and Evan went for his first camel ride with Verajita. I was afraid he would be scared and cry to get down – instead he screamed with delight and ended up having the time of his life.

While Evan rode the camel I ventured to Sudha’s house. She was making an Indian sweet that she wanted to teach me to prepare. We talked and laughed and cooked and learned and ate the sweets. Then she made savory treats and we ate some more. As we snacked, I suddenly became aware of my own happiness and the fun I was having. Hours before I had been pining for the comforts of home. But now, enveloped by friendship and food I realized that this journey would end all too soon. Sal’s Pizza will wait for me and autumn in New England will come again next year. But the joy of riding camels and learning to cook in Sudha’s kitchen will pass far too quickly into happy memories.

the low point

2007-10-02T02:46:00.000-05:00

Pat in healthier times, rowing a boat at Indira Gahndi Park in Hyderabad

Pat had come home from school Saturday afternoon looking pale, and asked for some Tylenol. That was when I knew I was in trouble. If my husband asks for Tylenol it's got to be pretty bad. He perked up briefly before his fever spiked dramatically and kept rising - even after a second dose of Tylenol. When his temperature reached 104 sometime after 11pm, I decided it was time to take action. I called Sudha and asked her to take us to the hospital. Ten minutes later a posse of neighbors arrived to assess the situation. I know they all meant well, but they did not believe that Pat could be that bad off. "Just a little fever." They said. When I protested that he was in serious shape, they wanted to retake his temperature, and have him "just take rest". I finally had to put my foot down. "No! " I commanded, trying to keep the edge out of my voice. "He is getting worse by the minute, he needs to see a doctor!" After some further consulting we finally set out for the nearest hospital.

The streets were amazingly quiet, even the cows had called it a night. It was such a contrast from the congestion of the daylight hours. The hospital too was quiet at this hour. Unlike Emergency Rooms in the US, we walked in the door, greeted the doctor and got down to business. No paperwork, no triage, no waiting. Pat, burning with fever, was pointed toward a gurney in the corner. As he went to lay down on the stained sheet he disturbed a large moth that fluttered up and resumed it's rest on the splash stained wall. My confidence started to plummet as my stress level rose. Oh God, how did I get here? I would have given anything for a sheet of that annoying crinkly paper for Pat to lie on.

Vitals were taken and discussion commenced about food borne illness. I was starting to percolate with anxiety. The doctor hadn't even examined Pat but had already made his diagnosis?!?! "Is there any chance this could be meningitis?" I pleaded "Or a mosquito borne virus?" I just couldn't accept this diagnosis so quickly. After all we had eaten almost all the same foods and we drink the same water.

"No." The doctor said flatly. "No chance, Madam. He is exhibiting all of the classic symptoms of water and food borne illness. This is very common here." Our helpful neighbors who accompanied us to the ER seemed confused by my inquiry, they, after all thought he had just a little fever. The doctor explained that, unlike in India, in the US a fever like Pat's is uncommon, and meningitis is always a suspect.

Pat got a shot to reduce the fever and a shot of antibiotics, as well as an IV to restore fluids. As I sat with him we quietly laughed at the absurdity of our situation. It's 1:00am. We are in India in a reputable hospital Emergency Room lying on a stained sheet in the corner of a cluttered room. Our doctor is gently mocking our worry, and chuckling that we do not know illness like the Indians. The moth, still present, flutters by to perch on the broken venetian blinds. We are a long way from home.

Despite my initial lack of trust, our doctor is very competent and quite friendly. As it turns out, he had spent time in the US so he understood our anxiety as well as our expectations. Once things had settled down a bit he said: "I like your country very much, but the food is not good. You cannot even get a good masala." Indians are proud of their cuisine, and rightfully so. I had to agree with the good doctor, a good masala is hard to come by.

While Pat rested with his IV, I was instructed to go to the 2nd floor Pharmacy to replace the medicines that had been administered (I brought new drugs and needles back down in a bag to be shelved). While I was gone Pat overheard the nurse comment on how big Eli was. To which the doctor replied: "That is their race." Which gave us a good laugh.

Two hours later we were headed home. Pat, while still very ill, was improving. My anxiety was ebbing - and exhaustion was setting in. By morning the fever broke, but Pat, still weak spent the day in bed, finally emerging at dinner time to check his email. As exhausted as I was, I was also hugely relieved. While I wouldn't have wished this on my worst enemy - I was grateful that it was Pat and not one of the children who suffered this fate.

Queen for a day

2007-10-01T05:13:00.000-05:00

For my birthday on Friday Sudha helped me into my first saree. The saree had been presented to me as a gift at the marriage we attended last month - I was very excited and pleasantly surprised to receive it. Sudha took me to the tailor to have the blouse custom made, helped me acquire a petticoat and stitched the hem for me. As one final and meaningful gift she came over and taught me how to put the thing on. It's not terribly complicated, but will require practice. Once the saree was on I did not feel as awkward as I thought I would. As a matter of fact I felt very elegant. I actually felt as though I should be headed to a black tie affair and not preparing dinner and chasing my children around the house. Women wear the saree all the way to the floor, which I think adds to the beauty, but because of this I had to walk a little straighter to keep from tripping on myself. And when you walk a little straighter, you stand a little taller. And when you stand a little taller you actually feel a little better about yourself. The old metaphorical mind-body connection. You can't slouch (like I do ALL the time) and still be beautiful. I think maybe I am slowly starting to unravel the beauty secrets of Indian women.

It is my humble opinion that Indian women, regardless of status, age or wealth carry themselves with incredible grace, elegance and beauty. Even the woman who cleans our house, and who happens to live in tarpaulin tent, looks like she just stepped out of a magazine. For starters, woman always wear their hair in a single braid down then back - no sloppy ponytails, no loose buns, and never down, which is considered immodest. A vast majority of women wear sarees (local spelling) and the rest wear salwar kameez - an elegant, colorful pant and tunic always accompanied by a long scarf. Married woman must never be seen publicly without the tikka (the red dot) on the forehead, bangles on each arm, and toe rings on each foot. I love these small touches of adornment and find they are like the icing on the cake. American culture places such an emphasis on sex appeal. But here the emphasis is on modesty and simple beauty. As a result, I think the beauty of the women in India is unparalleled.

Even at home women wear what they call a "nightie" which is definitely not the type of nightie that I know you are thinking of. A nightie in India is a short-sleeved, floor length, cotton house dress. As is the case with all Indian textiles most nighties are dyed and printed in exquisite designs and colors. I am now the proud owner of two of these house dresses - and I love them! My downstairs neighbor, a young, newlywed named Laxmi, came to visit the other day while I was wearing my nightie, and told me I looked "very, very beautiful - much better than in the pant-shirt". I happily accepted this backhanded compliment because I actually agree. I feel very awkward in my pants and tee-shirts while everyone around me looks so elegant. Being tall, white and blond I stand out enough - but add in a pair of pants and a tee-shirt and I feel like I'm wearing sweatpants at the prom.

To remedy my self consciousness I have acquired some toe rings and bangles. I have also been slowly amassing a new wardrobe of Indian textiles, that, while very beautiful and modest, are not necessarily what local women are wearing -but are far more beautiful than my Target clearance rack pants and shirts. My saree wearing days are not over, however, my frumpy, crunchy granola look just maybe on the way out.

Head Wobbling

2007-09-28T02:22:00.000-05:00

Each culture has gestures, slang and body language that is unique unto itself. What’s fun as a traveler is watching and learning not just the big picture of a culture – but also these little minutia that permeate daily life. My favorite example of this is what we refer to as the "head wobble". How to describe the head wobble…? I fear this is no easy task.

It is not a nod, in the traditional chin to chest “yes” gesture that we know. Nor is it a chin to shoulder “no” gesture. It is, if you will, a cross between the two – more of an ear to shoulder type of nod. The irony of this gesture is that while it looks like a perfect love child of yes and no, it’s meaning is multi faceted and wholly dependent on mood, circumstance, and perhaps weather. The head wobble, can mean: “Yes!”; it can mean “No”; it can mean “Maybe”; it can mean “I don’t know”; it can mean “You’re welcome”; it can mean “I hear you”; or “I understand” or even “Yes, I hear you, but I don’t understand, and therefore I’ll just wobble at you and hope you’ll move on.” The latter being my least favorite meaning, as it is hard to know that this is the implication.

As disciples of a definitive Yes/No culture it can be enormously frustrating to try and decipher the meaning of the head wobble. After some nervous trial by fire I came to realize that the wobble of the auto drivers is the easiest to read, but not perhaps the best to study.

Me: “Venkatapuram?” (This, by the way, is the name of our neighborhood. If we have an actual address I couldn’t tell you what it is. Nor am I certain that our street even has an actual name. But I digress…)

Auto Driver: Head Wobble. Pause. Speeds away without a word.

This is a strong indication of the negative. Either, “I don’t understand your ridiculous accent.” Or “No, I will not take you there.” Either way, I get the picture. By contrast the affirmative, usually goes like this:

Me: “Venkatapuram?”

Auto Driver: Head Wobble. Pause. Then he switches on the meter. The pause can seem like forever sometimes, especially in a monsoon.

The other random miscue we have noticed is the use of the word “OK”. Indians use “OK” quite a bit. Even those with very limited English know and use “OK”. Here, in India, it is very much an affirmative word. You would not use it, for example, to explain mediocrity, as in: “The soup is just OK.” There is no subtlety or multiple meanings. OK is good, or yes, period. When we eat out and the waiter comes to ask if we would like anything else Pat and I used to be in the habit of saying: “I think we’re OK.” In response to this the waiter would typically give us a look of perplexity just before wobbling his head, leaving, and returning with a menu. Or less complicated, might be: “More coffee sir?”. To which Pat replies, “I’m OK.” At which time the waiter head wobbles, and pours more coffee into his cup. I’m not sure if it's just Pat and I who do this, or if it's an American trend, but I suddenly realize how ambiguous we sound. We are trying to reform ourselves, but old habits die hard. And here I thought Indian head wobbling was odd… Since it's near impossible to photograph the head wobble, I have included some of my favorite recent pictures. In the top picture are my favorite head wobblers - Dr. Sharma's 2 girls and a neighborhood boy. The bottom picture is from the festival of Ganesh... more on that later!

Tying the Knot day 2

2007-09-13T23:46:00.000-05:00

Since it seems I forgot to mention who was getting married in my previous blog - some background: Dr. Sharma is our exchange partner who is currently living in our home in NH and teaching at Pat's school. Sudha is his amazing, out-of-this-world wife who has stayed here in India with their two beautiful daughters - Verajita, 13 and Vipanchika, 7. Sudha and the girls have been taking remarkable care of us throughout our journey thus far, and the marriage adventure was no exception. The marriage was between Dr. Sharma's nephew and a young woman from this village of Miryalaguda where we have traveled. Both bride and groom are young and well educated, she is a mechanical engineer and he is a software engineer. This is an arranged marriage, as is still very much the custom here in India. I have been told as many as 75% of marriages in India today are arranged, and this is down considerably from only a decade ago. Although, we have never met the bride or groom, we have never felt more welcome and we are treated as honored guests.

The second day of the marriage proved to be just as colorful, spectacular, and hot as the first. It all began, of course, with breakfast. Delightful South Indian breakfast foods with sweetened coffee served up with the insistent pleas of our hosts that we were not eating enough (although I felt like I gained 5 pounds in those 2 days). While the puja began sometime around 11, the atmosphere remained social and relaxed despite the seeming intensity of the offerings and Sanskrit prayers. Patrick and I spent the morning socializing with our respected sexes, as there is a social order here that seems to frown upon mingling with the opposite sex without a husband present. I enjoyed very much talking with some of the young women I met, who were very well educated and all very eager to practice their English. Some of the older women spoke less English but with a baby and some sign language we all understood each other.

In the course of all this I was offered a henna tattoo or mahindi on my hand. (My secret wish come true!) For the next hour my newest friend, a cousin of the groom, labored with painstaking detail on my hand. I, however, got to sit back and relax, my children cared for, and listen to the Sanskrit chanting as my hand was hennaed. After the design was complete I could not use my hand for another full hour, which naturally got to be difficult given the fussy baby factor. The fussy baby, taking a page from Murphy’s Law, only fusses when mother: a) is about to eat b) is trying to nap c) has her hands full – or in this case damp with henna. With some help from a dozen random women, Eli was walked, bounced and cooed at for most of that time. When he was finally inconsolable I took him in my left arm and paced him and my arm to sleep.
Evan was, as usual in India, the center of all the children’s attention. He doesn’t necessarily like being the center of attention, but he does enjoy having lots of children around to play with. Between games of tag, Evan spent some alone time arranging the plastic chairs in the function hall end to end in a straight line 15 deep. His focus and stubborn determination had half the room giggling and snapping cell phone photos.

The puja continued through the afternoon, but we returned to the air-conditioned oasis of the hotel for a few hours of rest. At the appointed hour we returned to the function hall for the evening festivities, starting, of course, with tea and a snack.
The function hall seemed even hotter in the evening. But we were ushered to the front in range of some very powerful fans. There was a pergola of fresh flowers and palm frowns set on a stage where the wedding party sat with their respected families. The band was playing. All of the women tonight wore saris of exquisite silk – I was feeling a tad under dressed in my cotton kameez (tunic), but even if I had been wearing the finest silk I think I still would have felt like an ugly duckling in this crowd of colorful silk swans.

The puja began around 7:30 pm with some traditional rituals, including the bride’s parents washing the groom’s feet, an exchange of intricately carved coconuts, offerings of food and blessings. After sometime the bride emerged in a large basket carried by her uncles. She was stunning. Outside of the buttery rich silk sari, jasmine, marigolds and roses cascaded down her braid like a waterfall – easily several pounds of flowers. She had two-dozen bangles on each arm, and intricate mahindi designs reaching each elbow. She truly did look like a Hindu princess – at once exotic, elegant, extravagant and beautiful. After 2 more hours of colorful, sometimes playful, often serious puja, at last the groom tied a knot around the bride’s neck - signifying the official joining of husband and wife (kind of like kissing the bride, only there is no public kissing in Hindu culture). It was lovely. As we went down for another decadent dinner I vaguely recall thinking to myself that a day’s worth of puja followed by a 2 and half hour ceremony was quite an undertaking for a young couple. Little did I know there were still seven, yes, SEVEN hours to go!I’d like to be able to tell you more about the evening’s pageantry and puja, but by the time we had finished feasting it was 11pm and the boys were tired. So we retired to the “luggage room” (since we had all checked out of the hotel, everyone’s luggage was stored in this space). There was one king size bed in the room and it was covered with kids. I claimed the foot of the bed and laid down with Eli, Pat and Evan took the head between us were 4 kids and a Grandmother simultaneously playing and resting. We spent the next several hours dozing on and off as best we could –it was a school night after all. Until 4am when the bride and groom emerged looking faint but happy for one final blessing and the offering of a sweet – the laddu. Bleary eyed, tired and overwhelmed we boarded the bus for home at 4:30. Despite the long, late night it was well worth the journey. A once in a lifetime experience punctuated by heat and feast; silks and jasmine.

Tying the Knot day 1

2007-09-12T00:01:00.000-05:00

The bride with her father and mother. The Brahman, or priest is in the foreground

You know it is hot when a South Indian tells you it's hot. And that's just how hot it was on Saturday when we boarded the chartered bus that would take us to our first Indian marriage.

We left our apartment at noon and hurried by auto into Hyderabad proper to catch the aforementioned bus. It was a bumpy, gritty, teeth clenching, 45 minute ride, but I was relieved we had made it with time to spare. We were whisked into the home of the groom's uncle and immediately served with a plate of food and a hot cup of tea.

Finally at 4pm (1.5 hours behind schedule - or right on time in India) we were rushed to the bus which would carry us along with the entire groom's family to the wedding. Part of the delay involved the blessing of the bus, which was adorned in marigold garlands, and a ceremonial coconut - I did not get an opportunity to ask about the coconut.

"Please Sir, please Madame it is beginning to rain." On to the bus we rushed as the afternoon monsoon began. A little rain (even monsoon rain) never bothered anyone... but the bus was not air conditioned and the windows were our only source of fresh air. As we sat waiting for the bus to load you can imagine how quickly it became very, very hot. As if the stifling heat were not enough, some of the windows began to leak copious amounts of water onto our seats. The combination of the human heat, the muggy air and the lack of air movement was nearly intolerable. Finally, finally after more delays 45 minutes after we boarded, the bus began to move. Once moving the air from the windows made the temperature tolerable, albeit sticky.

After 3 hours we reached our destination, a village called Miryalaguda located about 150 km south of Hyderabad. After a quick shower to remove the road grime we headed to the function hall for the evenings festivities, it was 9 pm and hot. The kind of arresting unbearable heat you get on a still bus with no a/c, only this time we were in open air...

However, the uncomfortable heat temporarily took a backseat to the sensory feast happening around us. Like all things in India this celebration was a display of sights, sounds , smells and tastes unlike any other I had experienced. The music, the intoxicating scent of Jasmine hanging heavily in the air, the heat - I truly felt like I had been transported to a different place in time and space.

The bride's family greeted our bus and adorned each of us with a tikka - the red dot - on the forehead. Each of us, except Evan - he wanted no part of anyone touching him. A 5 piece band - consisting of 2 different drums, a couple of very unique reeded horns, and some sort of squeeze box that resembled a large black book opening and closing - played the traditional wedding music as we walked from the bus to the hall.

The men and women were adorned in beautiful traditional dress. The women wore richly brocaded saris of every imaginable color, almost all of them in silk. They all wore jasmine flowers in their hair, and their finest gold jewelry. The men of the wedding party wore traditional dhotis of rich white silk.

The puja, or prayers and ritual commenced immediately in a small, un-air conditioned room on the second floor of the building. We were brought to the the front and given seats of honor. The bride's father greeted us happily telling us in broken English how honored he was to have us present at his daughter's marriage. The evening's ritual was loud, jostling, and playful, lasting almost 2 hours. The bride and groom each surrounded by their respective families slowly and playfully walked toward each other, hoping to meet in the middle. If they met too far onto the groom's side, this would mean the bride would be too dominate, too far on the bride's side the opposite would be true. The idea, of course, was to meet in the middle to achieve a balance in the marriage. With the families pushing and pulling it became a playful act lasting for quite some time. And did I mention the heat? It enveloped us in it's unwelcome embrace all evening. Despite the heat and noise Eli fell fast asleep - sweating and sticking to me. Evan, tired, drenched in sweat and overwhelmed eventually found some children to play with, and given the circumstances was relatively well behaved.

Following the puja there was a traditional South Indian feast - rich, spicy, and finally, delectably sweet. By the time we finished dinner it was midnight. At the conclusion of day 1 we knew Sunday would be a long day, we just could not have known how long it would turn out to be...

Evan the Terrible

2007-09-06T00:44:00.000-05:00

Evan has had to make the biggest adjustment to living in India, and it has not always been easy. For starters, there is no TiVo, no playgrounds, he has only a limited amount of toys, and to top it all off there are people everywhere that want to touch him. As we meet people, he has, at times, been down right awful - throwing himself on to the ground, running away screaming, or yelling loudly whenever someone tries to speak to him. On several occasions it has been really embarrassing for Pat and me.

What to do? While his behavior has often been inexcusable, I recognize the fact that Indians have a different set of social norms when it comes to children. They are, in a word, direct. And when I say “Indians” I literally mean ALL Indians – men, women, children, literally everyone. A typical interaction between the person on the street and Evan goes something like this:

Stranger: “Come here.” (Yes, people actually say this)

Evan: “NOOOOOOOOOO”

Stranger reaches out to touch Evan on his face. “What is your name?”

“AAARRRHGGHHHH” Evan runs away screaming, usually, but not always, ending with a dramatic fall to the ground.

In my mind, through my forced smile, I want to yell: “Please don’t touch him!” Instead, I end up apologizing for his meltdown with a feeble excuse of his being over tired.

At home in the US there is a clear unwritten social rule about not touching someone else’s child. Since being in India I’ve had to learn very quickly to relax about people touching my children. In those first few days it was unnerving to have a complete stranger whisk Eli from my arms, and then touch Evan on the face, or worse yet, try to pick him up. I can’t say as I enjoy these type of interactions, but I have learned to accept it – what choice do I have? Evan, however, still hates it. He hates to be touched by anyone – even me sometimes. Even back when he was in daycare, he would occasionally get “written up” for taking down other toddlers who invaded his space. Like his mother, I guess he has a big personal bubble.

Pat and I are doing our best to keep a level head about this. We have instructed (begged, pleaded, threatened, cajoled and bribed) him to say “No, Thank you” if he does not want to be spoken to or touched. This has yielded very, very limited success – but, hey at least 1 out of every 10 interactions is not quite so mortifying.

If there is a silver lining to this, it is that Evan’s new playmates (most especially Vipanchika – Dr. Sharma’s youngest, who is 6) understand that he doesn’t like to be touched. They will instruct other children and adults not to touch in their native tongue. I find this intimate knowledge, and big sisterly protection to be very endearing, and frankly a relief.

Little Laddu

2007-09-05T12:51:00.001-05:00

“Laddu.” Giggles, all around. “Laaadduuuuu”

Eli, recognizing an opportunity to work his charm, laughed on cue to the delight of his admirers; which at this particular moment is a group of women speaking rapidly to one another in Telegu (the local dialect).

“Are you calling him Laddu?” I asked, pleased that I not only recognized a Telegu word, but also understood it’s context.

Laughter. “Yes.” More rapid Telegu speaking. More laughter. “He is very cute and very fat,” someone offered, as they took turns lightly pinching his cheek and then kissing their fingers – another distinctive and charming Indian mannerism.

A Laddu (pronounced lad–dew) is a traditional Indian sweet. It resembles a donut hole in size and shape, but the taste and texture are completely different and distinctly Indian… and did I mention delicious! Of the many varieties, we have only sampled a few, my favorite being the basic - which is heavily scented with cardamom… yum! Because it is easy to make (or so I am told) it has been used for as long as anyone can remember in wedding ceremonies, celebrations and religious offerings. It also just so happens that “Laddu” is a pet name given in India to plump babies. Being slightly donut hole shaped, Eli is now affectionately referred to around here as Little Laddu.

Eli has really stepped up to fill the role of ambassador. Indians love Eli! He often stops people in their tracks, and sometimes attracts an adoring crowd. And Eli loves the Indians right back. He seems fascinated by their faces and will stare and smile at whomever is holding him at the moment. Perhaps his current favorite Indian is Verajita, Dr. Sharma’s oldest daughter, who is twelve. She adores Eli, and takes him from me whenever she can. The fondness seems to be mutual, as he often seems excited when he sees her.

In addition to charming the local population, Eli has been growing at a rapid clip. I swear he has grown at least another inch and has easily gained a pound or two since we left New Hampshire. He just looks so … well, so… big! I know he’s always been big, but now I feel as though I am watching the last vestiges of infancy slip away. In it’s place is this cheerful, even tempered, plump, active, chatty baby, who enjoys sleeping while riding through the bustle of Indian traffic. He has any easy smile and a deep belly laugh, and when he gets really excited he makes a panting sound – yes, much like a happy dog, but without the tongue hanging out. I know it sounds odd, but it is actually quite funny and terribly endearing.

As for his hair, this too is growing rapidly, he might just have a Kaplo coifs by the time we get home. But the real story is the color – it has become unmistakably red. Not just red in certain light, undeniably red in any light.

But the biggest news of all is that he is on the move! Crawling that is. The poor thing had no choice! Because we have marble floors, I never dare to leave him sitting unattended since he still occasionally flops over (not that I leave my children unattended for long periods, but I do have Evan to chase too). Therefore, if I need to turn my back, I always place him on his belly on a mat on the floor. Out of necessity he started slowly inching towards things beyond his reach. He is rapidly getting more efficient, and his movement is starting to resemble actual crawling. Whatever you want to call it, if he wants something, he can get there quickly. Just tonight we watched with delight as he chased a water bottle around our living room – I know that sounds terrible, but he was enjoying himself immensely… really.

Our new home

2007-08-18T03:56:00.000-05:00

At long last we have arrived at our new home. We are living in a great little neighborhood in Secunderabad - the twin city of Hyderabad. I am pleasantly surprised by it's beauty and comparative serenity. Our apartment is on the 3rd floor of a "family house" - not an apartment building as I mistakenly called it - each floor is one apartment. It is a brand new construction, so we are the first to live here.

We are already surrounded by new friends. There are children everywhere, and colleagues, friends and family of Dr. Shrama have come out of the woodwork to meet us. Sudha, Dr. Sharma's wife, our kind hostess, feeds us non-stop and everything is incredibly delicious. While we are greatly enjoying her hospitality, I am anxious to stock up on supplies and get settled.

In the meantime, here are some pictures of our apartment:

Our front door is on the left. The door on the right, in Hindu tradition, is supposed to be left open during the day to allow prosperity to come into the home.

This door leads to the Puja Room - found in all Hindu homes. Puja means prayers or offerings. So this room is meant to be a temple within the home. Being the foolish western that I am - I thought it was for the washer. Turns out the washer sits outside on the back balcony - of course.

The kitchen with propane operated stove top and combination microwave/convection oven. We also have a water service and milk is delivered every morning at 6:30 am. Very cool!

Evan's room. He has his own bathroom.

Our bedroom. Love the color! It was as though they knew I was coming. We have a/c and our own bathroom with "European flush" (I'll explain another day) and a hot water shower - very rare, and very appreciated.

Before our arrival the house was blessed - as indicated by the turmeric puja marks by the doorways. We see the swastik a lot here. I have been unable to get a satisfactory answer on what it means in Hindu culture - it appears to me to be a welcoming symbol. I do know that it has none of the negative implications of Nazism.

Monsoon view from the back balcony - where of course, the washer sits.

View from the front door.

Chandni Chowk

2007-08-17T13:46:00.000-05:00

Back in Delhi. With the Orientation behind us we went out today to do some sightseeing in Old Delhi. After a quick tour of the massive Red Fort, we crossed the street (approximate crossing time: 5 frightening minutes) to the Chandni Chowk shopping district.

Street after street of shops and stalls, food vendors and hawkers. Chandni Chowk is an intense experience, offering a true assault to your senses. The crowds. The smells of cooking food mingling with incense and diesel fumes. The heat. The calls of vendors beckoning you from the street over the bells of passing bicycle rickshaws and the ever present honking of traffic. The dizzying array of goods for purchase - bangles, books, fruit, gold jewellery, shoes, textiles, electrical gadgets, sweets, saris. If you can name it is probably for sale.

We choose a random street - one of many - to wander down. Even more chaos. Should we bring the boys down here? It is loud and crowded... and hot. Neither of them seems to mind. Evan is sitting comfortably on his father's shoulders taking in all of the action. Eli rides, as always, in the Bjorn carrier turning his head side to side while wiggling happily, then falls asleep. At the end of this street, hot, thirsty and overwhelmed we head for the nearest auto. We make a half hearted effort at haggling our fare - the potential 50 cent savings not worth the trouble.

Driving in India

2007-08-16T22:51:00.000-05:00

Driving in India is not for the faint of heart. Let me rephrase that: Riding in a vehicle in India is not for the faint of heart. Driving in India should be left only to Indians. It is an organized chaos that must be experienced to be believed. Like an intricate dance, cars, buses, rickshaws, mopeds with entire families on board, fruit carts, camel drawn wagons, and cows all share the road. The painted lane markers are largely ignored - you drive where ever you can go the fastest. The yellow divider line is merely a guideline - if you can more efficiently and easily pass by moving into oncoming traffic, by all means cross over. The horn is used constantly - alerting whomever or whatever is in your way that you are coming through. Adding to this confusion for me is the fact that Indians drive on the left side of the road. Somehow it all works - almost beautifully.

Our first day in India started with a 3 hour car ride - talk about baptism by fire. It was our first glimpse of India in the daylight and it was riveting. The sights, the sounds, the pollution. It was overwhelming. Despite the fact that we were all tired from our journey no one could close their eyes. There was just too much to see. It was like a never ending movie playing out side our windows. Everything was new and fantastic. The sheer volume of people lining the streets, the countless fruit vendors, the colors, the cows, the remarkable traffic pattern. Everything new, everything unbelievable and exciting.

We've been in country for 2 weeks now and each time we travel by auto (local vernacular for auto rickshaw) it is like the first time all over again. Hair raising excitement as we weave effortlessly between buses and trucks often passing with mere inches to spare. Evan loves riding the autos. He sits mesmerized occasionally pointing out tractors, cows and trains. Eli too seems to enjoy these rides. He rides silently in the Bjorn through all of the excitement and honking, often falling asleep. How anyone could sleep through an auto ride is beyond me, but I guess living with Evan has been good training for India.

This is a video Pat shot from our moving car, which he also posted on his blog. It is a mere glimpse of the excitment of riding in India.

The long awaited elephant ride

2007-08-15T22:30:00.000-05:00

For months Evan has been talking about taking 2 airplanes to India to ride an Eph-a-nant. I too had been anxiously awaiting this opportunity. Despite the fact that I was concerned about the animal's treatment and care, I checked my bleeding heart at the door and climbed aboard.

I wish I could say that it had been "Awesome!", but instead I will say it was kinda fun. Evan was whining endlessly while we waited in line. We tried our best to distract him, but to little avail - he didn't want to wait in line.

When we finally boarded the beast and made the 10 minute journey up the hill to Amer Fort we were seated side saddle on a large pillow topped platform. It was not terribly comfortable and I got splashed with some elephant pee, but I can't say I didn't enjoy it. Evan came around half way through and enjoyed seeing all of the other elephants around us.

Before we were allowed to disembark, the elephant driver(?) informed us we needed to give the elephant a tip - despite having paid for the ride. Once we were on the ground we actually had more fun watching the dozens of elephants make their way through the court yard. Sadly we do not have any pictures of the four of us on the elephant but we managed to get a few nice pictures of the countless other elephants.

Our Elephant Driver

The ride up the hill

The Littlest Ambassadors

2007-08-15T12:28:00.000-05:00

The people of India are exceedingly warm and gracious and their love of children cannot be overstated. Our experiences at the Taj have not been isolated. Everywhere we go people smile and approach us. They ask the same questions: "Boy or girl?; or in many cases just "Girl?" - as boyish as I think my children look, Indians always guess that both boys are actually girls - and then of course they want to know their names. These questions are punctuated by a stroke of Eli's cheek and an attempt at patting Evan's head - which he hates. Everyone from doorman to bathroom attendant to hotel manager shares in this ritual.

Travelling with children as young as ours has been one of the most difficult and simultaneously rewarding experiences of my life. Much like child rearing itself. You make many sacrifices - in our case, a limited stay time sight seeing, many missed photo opportunities, and a few meltdowns in very public places. Despite these relatively minor set backs they have made our experience thus far richer in so many ways. Most especially in allowing us to connect with Indians in a deeper, more meaningful way.

Just yesterday, at the stunning Amer Fort in Jaipur I saw two women clad in magnificent red saris each balancing a large bowl of mixed concrete on their head, they were peeking through a doorway at Eli and me smiling broadly. I smiled and bowed a greeting before I approached. They spoke almost no English, they were lower class laborers bare foot but still adorned in bangles and nose rings and somehow immaculate in their appearance despite their work. They touched Eli's cheek and nodded when I said "boy". Through sign language and broken English I came to understand that they were mothers too. As we stood together their faces were radiating a warmth and happiness, the depth of which I lack words to describe. It was a very quiet, yet powerful experience for me. I would have loved to have taken their picture and wished I had the camera at that moment. But, in the end it was about more than the visual souvenir I could have had, it was a shared connection between mothers of very different places and means. It was beautiful. I will keep their image in my mind for years to come.

Evan enjoys the elephant carvings at a Hindu temple just outside the gates of the Amer Fort

Delhi Belly

2007-08-14T11:59:00.000-05:00

Our first full day in India was magnificent, spectacular; it was… ahem… the Taj Mahal of days. It will be a day I will never forget. The amazing drive to Agra, the majesty of the Taj Mahal, and Evan falling asleep on his menu at dinner – all wonderfully exciting and new.

Our second full day in India was much, much less glamorous and will also likely be a day I will never forget. Pat woke first with some intestinal trouble. I woke feeling nauseous and dizzy, and poor Evan started his day by vomiting on his father. Although, after he was sick, he promptly asked for breakfast - which we took to be a good sign. Pat took Evan down for food and I crawled back into bed until it was time to leave. Little Eli was the only one of us unperturbed by the adventure thus far. His smiling face reassuring of us of happier times to come.

Pat and Eli standing out at the Mosque at Fatepur Sikri

Once we were in the car everyone seemed to have perked up a bit, although the very thought of eating made me queasy. Our first stop was Fatehpur Sikri a beautiful, abandoned, royal city, a bumpy one-hour ride from Agra. It was hot, but there was a nice breeze blowing through the monument so it was bearable. Unfortunately shortly in to our tour I was overcome once again with a wave of nausea. Evan too was getting restless so he and I went back to the air-conditioned car to lie down. Pat went on to have a wonderful experience touring the rest of the city and the beautiful mosque while Evan and I napped. Later when I was feeling better I was a bit jealous of what he experienced, but at the time I was grateful for the chance to lie down. By the time we left for the excruciatingly long and bumpy four-hour ride to Jaipur I was feeling worlds better.

Evan however, was sick again just an hour later. I hate to see him sick. I had been worried for months before this trip began about him getting ill, and here he was suffering from a mild case of Delhi Belly and I found myself calm about the whole thing. I knew we had done everything right. I had watched him like a hawk since we landed – making sure he didn’t touch anything dirty, that his hands were washed and sanitized, and carefully monitoring everything that went into his mouth. He wasn’t running a fever and he didn’t have the runs, so I knew it wasn’t that serious. My hunch was that it was just his immune system running in overdrive.

Sure enough, by evening he was swimming in the pool and downing an entire pizza (thank goodness our hotel offered western choices – the thought of anything spicy today made me uncomfortable). For our part, Pat and I soldiered on, our discomfort of minor consequence when your baby is sick.

Evan, feeling better, sleeping off a long hard day.

For more pictures of Fatehpur Sikri click here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/43788174@N00/sets/72157601703908239/show/

The Taj Mahal

2007-08-13T00:15:00.000-05:00

At breakfast this morning we were served Taj Mahal Tea. The tab on the tea bag had a tiny picture of the Taj that I showed to Evan. I explained that it was like a giant sand castle and it was very beautiful and that we were going there for a visit. He kept the little picture in his pocket and told all of the Indians we encountered that we were going to see the “Zhaj Labal”. But I digress…

Everyone says that if you’re coming to India you must see the Taj Mahal. My expectations were high and I had a nagging fear that I would be disappointed. Like everyone else in the western world I had already seen dozens of photographs and I was familiar with at least some of the history. Was it really going to be as spectacular as everyone says? But, when I walked through the North Gate and the whole building came in to view, it literally took my breath away. Even from the gate it was majestic. Photographs seem to do little justice to the splendor of this magnificent structure.

As we stood near the gate listening to our guide I became aware that someone was standing beside me. I turned to find a woman in a beautiful yellow sari just inches away posing for a picture beside me and Eli while her family stood by giggling. I did what any good Yankee would do – I pretended not to notice, despite her proximity I did not want to embarrass anyone.

Not a minute later a group of young men came along. They stopped several feet away staring and laughing before one of them came over to stand beside me for another photograph. Admittedly I was slightly annoyed, but I just pretended not to notice and we moved on.

As we progressed, however, it became apparent that people were very, very interested in us. Everyone we encountered – and there were thousands of people – stopped, smiled, pointed, and nudged those around them. Soon people were approaching us to touch the boys – this is not a taboo here, Indians love babies and they are not shy about showing it! Those that could speak English would ask “Boy or Girl” and “Name?” There were more pictures. More introductions. I found myself standing with whole families smiling for photographs. And the children… the Indian children were awe struck with Evan. It was like he was from the moon. The children crowded around him each just wanting to touch him. It was very surreal to see his little white face surrounded by a sea of Indian children. Evan handled it with grace, although towards the end I think he was as overwhelmed as I. So this is what it’s like to be a rock star? No wonder the guidebook recommended dark glasses.Here we were standing before one of the Seven Wonders of the World and for a brief period it was as though our children, not the Taj Mahal, enjoyed this title. I thought surely these people have seen Westerners before, until our guide reminded us that people come from all over India – rich and poor – to see the Taj, and some may not have ever seen “our kind”. Of those that have I’m sure they’ve never seen a redheaded baby in Bjorn carrier on a blond woman before.

On our way back to the car, the armed guards and souvenir hawkers all stopped to gawk and elbow their neighbors as we walked by. It suddenly became apparent that our children were going to give this journey a unique richness that can't be enjoyed by other tourists. They are going to open doors and make connections that Pat and I could not our own.

For more pictures of our trip to the Taj click here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/43788174@N00/sets/72157601608978740/show/

Namaste from India

2007-08-12T00:00:00.000-05:00

As the plane made it’s final approach in to Delhi, we were able to catch our first glimpse of India. It didn’t look like much… just a sporadic patchwork of orange lights twinkling through the haze interrupting the otherwise dark of night. There were none of the familiar lights of highways or buildings visible. The air quality in the plane suddenly became very poor, the smell of India reaching us before we even touched the ground. I was suddenly overcome with fear. Instead of butterflies I felt as though I had a swarm of hungry locusts with hard edges writhing in my stomach. Tears filled my eyes. What on earth are we doing? Why am I bringing all that I hold dear to such a foreign and exotic place? Will we get sick? What will I do when the children get sick? It’s too late to turn back, and quite honestly even if I could I would not.

Happily, as soon as we were on the ground my fears of this unknown place seemed to melt away. Despite the dreariness of the airport and the filth of the bathrooms, I was suddenly excited to be in India. India! …At last.

Once we left the airport and were on the road the sounds and activity of Delhi began to take shape around us. Despite the late hour the streets were teeming with activity - cars, trucks, buses, rickshaws, mopeds, cows, everyone was out. It was then that I realized that this is a journey of a lifetime, one that will change my life in ways that I cannot yet imagine. While Eli will never know where he has been I hope that Evan will take a few fuzzy memories home with him. I am already grateful that I did not let my fear of the unknown diminish this opportunity.

On your MARKET, get set, GO!

2007-08-10T12:56:00.000-05:00

"On your market, get set, GO!" Evan screams for the 100th time in an hour. He has decided Amsterdam is a great city for racing. This despite, the narrow streets, the even narrower cobblestoned sidewalks, and the multitudes on foot and on bicycle. He took a couple of good spills - one of which resulted in a skinned nose, but even this could not deter him from his game. I don't mind this game too much since a) it wears him out quicker b) he moves faster when he is racing and c) he quickly learned the difference between sidewalk and road and always stops to hold hands when we cross the street. The problem with this game is the sheer volume of pedistrians and cyclists. He is more interested in going fast than staying out of the way. Which makes me very nervous.

When he is not racing, he is asking to be carried. "Mommy, Carry you?" - meaning, of course, carry me. We've walked all over this beautiful city, and we've encouraged Evan to walk as much as possible. But there are times for safety, or efficiency that it is easier to carry him. He has walked more than his share though, and after a while I know he gets tired. If he didn't weigh close to 40lbs this really wouldn't be such an issue. By the end of the day we're all tired not just from walking but also from carrying these two giant children.

Other than racing, Evan also enjoys looking for sharks in the canals, crossing bridges, and best of all watching the public train, which he calls Thomas. We've actually ridden the train a couple of times just for fun. As silly as that may sound, if you could see the excitement on Evan's face you would understand why it is worth the ride.

Overall Evan has been very good, albeit a bit wild at times. There have been a few meltdowns, but largely (and thankfully) this is in the privacy of our apartment. He rarely misbehaves in public, save one or two tantrums. Publicly he is usually just guilty of not controlling the volume of his voice, not watching where he is going, and occasionally walking painfully slow so he can touch each and everyone of the traffic barriers -which are short poles spaced two feet apart all over the city. On the grander scheme of things these are minor inconveniences, but they can be frustrating to his parents. We have done our best to encourage him to be quieter, or slow down, or speed up - and we switch children often, sharing the load (both in weight and discipline). Sight seeing with such small children is a totally unique experience. Once upon a time Pat and I would have set a break neck pace, taking in all of the museums, churches, markets, and ahem coffee shops we possibly could. These days we are content just to be able to be out side walking in the city. And we were both delighted with our fragmented hour at the Rijks Musuem. We each had the opportunity to spend 30 minutes admiring the art of the Dutch Masters, and 30 minutes of riding the glass elevator with Evan. Somehow it was enough, and Evan had his thrill. Someday the boys will be old enough to enjoy the history and beauty a city like Amsterdam has to offer, but for now I am content to enjoy the antics of a 3 year old racing the streets of Amsterdam.

Boat Ride

2007-08-09T18:12:00.000-05:00

Since Amsterdam is a city of canals, and Evan is a lover of water, it seemed only fitting that we should take a boat tour of the city. This is probably not something I would have done without children, and probably not something I'd rush to recommend to others. But as usual Evan made it enjoyable. He absolutely loved riding the boat. He stood on the bench with his head out the window with all the wonder and innocence of a three year old.

For those who have never ventured to Amsterdam, she is a city of water and thus by default, of bridges. 1200 bridges to be exact. Evan loves bridges, this of course is old news. He has always loved to go over bridges but now he also loves to go under bridges. Of Amsterdam's 1200 bridges I think it is safe to say we sailed under about 50 of these canal bridges. As we approached each bridge Evan would stick his head back into the boat, hold Pat's face in his hands and with a big smile declare: "Daddy. Another bridge." Yes, for every bridge. All 50 of them. Somethings just don't loose their magic.

The journey begins...

2007-08-08T17:34:00.000-05:00

After weeks of often stressful preparation for this journey we are finally on our way, and boy does it feel good. It occurred to me at dinner that I had nothing to do and no where to be except here in Amsterdam enjoying the city and my family. Finally! After weeks of cleaning, packing, stressing over passports and visas and various other details I can sit and relax.

Our neighborhood in Amsterdam

The plane ride to Amsterdam went amazingly well. All of my anxious worry was for naught - at least thus far. Evan could not have been more thrilled to go to the big, giant airport in Boston and ride a big, giant airplane.

Because of fog our takeoff was delayed by 30 minutes... a very minor inconvenience. As soon as we were allowed to board we got to take an escalator down to the sky walk. This was a tremendous thrill and seemed only to enhance the excitement to come. As soon as Evan was in his seat he started asking: "Now Mommy? Is it time to take off now?"

"Not yet. We have to wait until everyone sits down in their seats and puts on their seat belts."

"OK." .... pause .... "Now Mommy?"

I'm sure he asked us 20 times. When we finally did take off he was very excited - giggling and grinning from ear to ear. It was fun to watch him experience what he had looked forward to for so long. After enjoying his pretzels - one of his favorite treats - Evan settled in to watch a movie. Could life get any better for a three year old? We didn't hear a peep from him until we declared bedtime. He then laid down across the extra seat and slept for about three hours. Could life be any better for Mom and Dad? Eli for his part was also a perfect angel. He has become quite the little busy body. So he fidgeted and chewed and sucked on whatever he could get his hands on, until at last he fell asleep for most of the remainder of the flight - at least 4 hours. And there was no crying.

I was the only one who didn't get any rest, and I was not feeling too hot when we landed. I was consumed with exhaustion, but Evan was ready to take on the world - on just 3 hours of sleep. A good 2.5 hour nap perked us all up, and we hit the town the town running - and I do mean that literally.

Personal Introductions

2007-07-24T22:06:00.000-05:00

Evan was feeling particularly gregarious at the park this evening. When we ran in to a colleague of Pat's, Evan proudly declared "My name Evan Allen Klaplo of Boston Red Sox Team." (Note: Kaplo is pronounced Clap-low) I didn't completely understand him at first and thought he was just rambling on about the Red Sox until he introduced himself to another little boy as "Evan Allen Klaplo of Boston Red Sox team" and then again to another mother, who, of course, thought he was very charming. None of his new friends completely understood what he said, but I couldn't stop myself from laughing each time he repeated his introduction.

I'm quite sure this can be traced back to his favorite game of "hit the pitch", which like all of Evan's play is full of ritual. Whenever Pat plays hit the pitch with Evan, which is nearly everyday, he offers a fantastic fictional play by play commentary - announcing each pitch, calling strikes, keeping the count and then making up plays to correspond with each hit. Evan loves this, and it really is quite funny. But Evan's favorite part comes before the game can even begin. "Do letters Daddy!". Which is Evan's way of asking for a proper introduction and thus the official start of the game. So, in his best broadcaster persona Pat says something like this:

"Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to Fenway Park, where tonight the Boston Red Sox take on the New York Yankees. Leading off tonight for the Red Sox is Evan Allen Kaplo."

So, given his love of doing "letters" I didn't find it too odd that Evan would make this introduction to random strangers at the park. What I did find odd was his sudden shift to introducing himself as "Ooola". That is a real mystery.

Mischief

2007-07-17T21:34:00.000-05:00

Last night as I was walking outside to put dinner on the grill, Evan, soda bottle in hand, stopped suddenly and looked at me with a surprised and guilty look.

"What are you doing Evan" I asked. Knowing full well that he intended to empty the contents of the recycling bin into his wading pool. A little game we have been trying to discourage.

"Ummmmm" he was looking for his lie. "I, ummmm, I just looking at these bricks." he said pointing to the house.

His first out right lie! And it was funny! I was impressed with his clever attempt at deceit. But I decided I should try to make an honest man out of him so I ask, "Are you sure you weren't going to put all the recycling in to your pool?"

"Yeah... I just put them in my pool."

And how could I argue with that?

Baseball!

2007-07-10T22:29:00.000-05:00

We took the boys to see Manchester's Minor League Baseball team play on a recent Friday evening. Evan was very excited to go see the "Red Sox" play - every team is the Red Sox to him, so we played along.

Evan was enjoying himself immensely. There was a lot to see and plenty of popcorn to eat. Occasionally his attention would even wander to the game. Whenever there was clapping or cheering of any kind for any reason Evan would get especially excited, he would clap hardily and then yell "SAFE!!" complete with umpire arm gestures. This little display caused waves of laughter from the people sitting around us. The attention of course only encouraged our little umpire, who began randomly calling strikes, line drives, and homeruns "over the Green Monster".

It was a fun evening and just as cool as Fenway as far as Evan was concerned.

Fireworks

2007-07-04T22:32:00.000-05:00

Evan has a complex relationship with fireworks. He loves the idea of fireworks. He loves to "make" fireworks by splashing water, or banging the mop. He even likes to talk about fireworks. But actually viewing fireworks terrifies him. This point was driven home when we went downtown to watch the Manchester city fireworks. Evan was very excited and talked about it for hours. As we staked out a piece of sidewalk to watch the show, Evan asked "Where are the fireworks?". And then they began... Evan clung to his father as though his life depended on it, burying his head in Pat's neck. Then came the whimpering and a feeble declaration that he "no like fireworks", which quickly escalated to sobs of terror and pleads to go home. The funny thing was that he never even saw any of the fireworks. The sound alone scared him and that was enough. Had he actually seen them he just might have enjoyed it.

Huh...?

2007-06-29T08:17:00.000-05:00

Say anything, and I do mean anything, to Evan these days and he will immediately respond with a "Huh?".

Me: Evan, what would you like for lunch?
Evan: Huh?

Me: Are you ready for our next adventure?
Evan: Huh?

Me: Good morning Evan.
Evan: Huh?

I'm not sure why or how this began, but it is driving me crazy. Like nails on a chalk board, I cringe every time I hear him utter it. Occasionally for effect he will also add: "What's that? I can't hear you." or "I no understand you." Did I teach him this? Pat is quick to say yes. Sadly, I probably did. However, in my defense, Evan talks a lot, all the time actually, (which by the way is not a Girvin trait) while I am eating, changing Eli's diaper, checking my email, driving the car, going to the bathroom it doesn't matter. Since he talks every waking minute, it is impossible for me to always give him my full attention, and sometimes I can't always understand what he says. So I must throw in a "huh?" now and again. If that is the case then I am on a mission to reform myself, and purge the word "huh" from my vocabulary - and hopefully Evan's too.

Evan or Eli?

2007-06-26T21:05:00.000-05:00

I was looking through some photos of Evan at 4 months and I was struck by how much Eli looks like him at that age. Can you guess who's who?

weighing in

2007-06-24T21:10:00.000-05:00

Eli went for his 4 month check-up on Thursday, where he weighed in at an impressive 16 lbs 5.5 ozs and 26.5 inches tall, which puts him in the 90th percentile for height, 75th for weight. In 4 months time he has grown 5 inches and nearly doubled his weight!

In addition to his impressive growth we learned that he has an "auxiliary nipple" (that's medical speak for a third nipple) and that his eyes are going to be brown.

His hair is still dark red, although less fuzzy than when he was born. Judging by his hairline, I think he is going to have a fuller head of hair than his brother. I also think that he is looking more and more like Pat everyday... but we'll see.

Physically he is getting stronger and his motor skills are improving. He has recently made a sport of rolling over. As soon as you lay him down on his back he immediately flips onto his stomach. This makes diaper changes a bit more work, but it is fun to watch him wiggle and squirm on his belly. He has also recently fallen in love with his Whoozit toy (which never interested Evan). He coos and giggles and screams with delight while he plays. He's a lot of fun to interact with and his giggles make my day. He watches his brother like a hawk - which could be trouble - but for now it is very endearing to watch a brotherly bond forming.

Rolling over...

2007-06-12T20:23:00.000-05:00

Eli is really starting to become his own little person. He is entering a very fun and exciting stage of development. As a matter of fact, he rolled over for the first time today!

Last week I put him into his jumper for the first time and he loved it. He's not exactly jumping yet, but he seems to be getting stronger and more confident moving around and bouncing. It's fun to watch - and convenient. We keep it in the kitchen, so I can get things done without having to wear him in the Bjorn carrier all the time. Not that I mind, but he is heavy!!

He has also recently discovered that the best way to observe something closely is in his mouth. Fingers, rattles, thumbs, and his favorite toy - a little soft lion. I keep the lion on the little jumper tray where he then tries to suck on it while he bounces. Inevitably the lion falls and Evan comes running (often leaving the dinner table) to pick it up for him. "Here you go Eli." It's very sweet.

Eli for his part can't get enough of his brother. Whenever Evan talks to him he smiles and laughs, which delights Evan. In the car Eli almost always keeps his head turned toward Evan and watches him intently. As I see how sweetly they interact with each other I think, one day they are going to get into lots of trouble together...

Beach Love

2007-06-12T08:41:00.000-05:00

The forecast had called for rain, but Sunday turned out to be a beautiful beach day. So we packed up the van and headed for Hampton for what turned out to be a fun and relaxing day. After we had settled in Evan and Dad made some excellent sand castles. Then we headed to the rocks to explore the tide pools. As we were looking at crabs and "waterfalls" and finding rocks to throw, a little girl came over to show us her snail. At first Evan didn't want to be bothered, but as she was imparting her wisdom of snail life cycles to me, Evan decided to greet her: "Hi!" he said "Wanna hug?". As I suppressed my laughter, the girl, clearly confused, looked at him blankly and then wandered off without a response. Unperturbed, my little Romeo found the perfect throwing rock and went on his way.

athlete extraordinaire

2007-06-06T22:34:00.000-05:00

Anyone who has spent more than 1o minutes with Evan knows that he is quite coordinated for his age. At 34 months he is already a pretty good athlete, and his repertoire of skills keeps expanding. His latest is playing catch with his new kid sized baseball glove. The glove is a bit big for his hand, but it doesn't really matter. He can catch the ball if you underhand it from a short distance, and he certainly has no problem with the return pitch.

Tee ball is another favorite. A neighbor was giving away the tee ball set, so we walked over and grabbed it. It has turned out to be one of our greatest acquisitions ever. He can hit balls happily, and usually by himself, for long periods of time.

His current favorite game is called "hit the pitch". This involves one of us pitching a soft plastic ball that Evan attempts, and usually succeeds, to hit with his "indoor" baseball bat. I'm guessing here, but I'm willing to bet that I toss at least 100 pitches a day, probably more, and this does not include all of the pitches from Pat in the evening. The beauty of this game for me is that I can pitch while nursing, although I do occasionally have to duck or shield the baby from hard hit line drives. Just this afternoon I got beamed between the eyes, and poor Eli has also been hit once or twice by balls that have been deflected off things like the lamp, the picture frames, or the window. Nothing is safe when he is hitting. Thankfully the ball is very soft, and our living room is Evan proof.

Daddy's Little Helper

2007-06-02T22:34:00.001-05:00

Evan woke from his nap on Saturday ready to help Daddy in the yard. Of course putting pants on was not an option. Pat was digging a new garden at the foot of the driveway. Because the area was covered in gravel the area had to be excavated several feet before the top soil could be added. So armed with his Elmo underwear and his purple beach shovel Evan climbed in to the hole to help daddy.
Once he tired of digging, Daddy sent him to water the garden. A job he loved. I mean what could be better than watering the garden in your underwear on a hot day? The one problem with his watering technique is that he forgets to move the hose. So if he's not reminded, one little basil plant will get several gallons of water and the thirsty zucchini plant will get nothing. And because he is stubborn, sometimes a gentle reminder to move the hose on to the next plant is met with a loud "NO!"; which illicits a threat to turn off the water, which in turn gets him to happily move on to the next plant. He's learning though...

Camping!

2007-06-02T14:03:00.000-05:00

Last Friday we went on the first ever Kaplo family camping trip. And boy did we have fun. In one of Evan's favorite episodes of Bob the Builder "the team" goes camping and roasts marshmallows on a camp fire. He talks about it all the time, so I knew Evan would enjoy camping out "just like Bob". I just couldn't have known how much he would like it. His happiness and excitment were contagious.

We had a beautiful water front campsite at Pawtuckaway State Park (just 30 minutes from home), and the weather was perfect. The first order of business was not setting up the tent, but throwing rocks in to the water. The shore was down a short, but steep embankment, so Evan needed an escort for his rock throwing exploits, which delayed the set up of camp but was well worth it. He was very excited to see all of the boats speeding by, but the real thrill was seeing how far he could throw the rocks, or how big a splash he could make.

After exhausting a large pile of rocks we asked him to find sticks for the fire while Dad set up the tent and Mom fed Eli. He was delighted by this chore and would happily announce each new stick or twig he found. This kept him busy for quite some time. After the tent was up, we started a fire - which delighted Evan no end. We cooked veggie burgers over the fire and then settled in for some "marsh-mesh-ow" roasting. Evan can toast a pretty good marshmallow, which of course he had to do by himself (with just a bit of help from Dad). As darkness began to settle someone across the lake launched a rather impressive display of fireworks. As infatuated with fireworks as he is, they still scare him, so he clung to me with his face buried in my neck until the fireworks were finished.

At bed time we all climbed into our giant tent (or "office" as Evan called it). Evan has his own twin air mattress, Pat and I have a queen and Eli had his car seat between the mattresses. It was a perfect evening for sleeping outside. The temperature was about 68, the air was still and the stars were out. The one exception to this Utopian camp out was the slow leak in the queen mattress. Around midnight I woke up to find that enough air had leaked out so that I could feel the ground. Misery. I tried to get comfortable to no avail. So I decided to crawl on to Evan's mattress which was still very firm. For a little guy he takes up a lot of bed, and he moves ALOT. I tried sleeping at the foot of the bed, but the ground was at a slant which made it uncomfortable. So I suffered through a long night with a wiggling, bed hogging toddler, which just may have been slightly more comfortable than sleeping on the ground on top of a flat air mattress like poor Pat.

I woke first, followed closely by Eli who woke with a smile and a coo, after sleeping through the night. He was so calm and happy the whole time we were out, we decided that like his brother he must be made for camping. He didn't seem to mind having his diaper changed on the picnic table, or sleeping outdoors in a car seat. He also enjoyed watching the light of the fire and going for exploratory walks with his brother.

It was a beautiful morning. The lake was still and we could hear the cry of a loon - which is one of my favorite sounds. When Evan woke we threw rocks in the water for a while and then went exploring. We heard a woodpecker (a bird hammering his nose), saw some chipmunks, and then listened to more loons. Unfortunately the bugs were enjoying the still dawn as much we were so we fled back to the tent and woke up Daddy. It was at this point that we realized with dismay that despite having brought our plastic french press and our Starbucks coffee we had no mugs. This may not sound like a big deal, but Pat and I don't function well without our morning caffeine. As a matter of fact, it's best not to talk to Pat until he's had a few sips. So we packed it in early and headed for the nearest Dunkin Donuts. As we were leaving I was excited to think that we would have many more of these camping adventures. But next time I have to bring the camera!

Over the river and through the woods...

2007-05-21T23:20:00.000-05:00

This past week Evan, Eli and I went to visit the Great-Grandparents. What an adventure! Back in the good old days Pat and I could make the drive in a little less that 4 hours. Travelling by myself with the boys it took me 6. I was sure I was going to lose my mind before we arrived.

I had carefully planned my departure time, so that I could make it to Queechee Gorge before nap time. The plan was to get some miles in, go for a hike at the gorge, feed the baby, and enjoy lunch at the snack bar before setting off again. What I didn't factor in to this equation was the driving rain, or the fact that Evan would actually fall asleep before we got there. So much for careful planning. I pressed on past the gorge, only to make it to Woodstock (just a few miles down the road) before Eli's cries could no longer be placated with the pacifier, which by the way took some major contortioning on my part to hold in his mouth while driving. Unfortunately as soon as I stopped the car Evan woke up, after only a brief 30 minute nap. By now the rain was coming down in sheets. I parked as close to the restaurant door as I could, but we still managed to get wet. While we waited for our food I nursed the baby and tried my best to politely ignore a very talkative dad at the next table.

Once back on the road, we made it to Rutland (about 30 miles) before Evan needed to use the potty again and I needed a cup of coffee. I went out of my way to a great little coffee shop downtown, only to discover it had gone out of business. Moving on, we made it another 30 miles this time to the VT/NY border before Eli decided he needed to eat again. After feeding Eli, Evan and I played frisbee on the wet grass until the rain forced us to move on. To my relief that was the last stop. Eli went to sleep, but Evan was growing restless. I really couldn't blame him, but it took all of my energy to keep him occupied. I had remembered to pack the portable DVD player, but I had forgotten to pack more than one DVD. By the third showing, the 30 minute Elmo video was driving us both batty. And so we filled the last hour with "I spy with my little eye" which is a great game if you are not riding on the Northway in the Adirondacks. Because there is nothing to "spy" except trees, and highway signs - but I managed to stretch the game out until at last our exit came in to view.

Our visit was more than worth the effort of the journey. Evan enjoyed his Great-Grandparents very much (and vice versa of course).

Buff-fa-flies!

2007-05-12T15:28:00.000-05:00

This past weekend our friends, the Wiatrowskis, came with their 4-year old daughter Alyssa for a visit. We all had a good time together catching up, flying kites,eating ice cream and playing frisbee (Evan's new favorite sport), but Evan particularly enjoyed having a playmate closer to his own size and age. There were some issues with sharing early on (Evan is not too good at it), but after a while the two of them were playing and sharing like they had been friends for years. It was particularly funny to watch Alyssa whisper into Evan's ear - it was like an instant game of telephone. Evan would duitfully repeat what he thought he heard to everyone's amusement. "Let's go out for ice cream, okay?" became "ice cream cake!"

On Sunday we all visited the Butterfly Place in Westford, MA. What a cool place! The Butterfly Place is a giant atrium filled with butterflies and flowers (and the occasional quail and iguana) that visitors can stroll through. The butterflies were a huge hit with both kids, and they really were beautiful. But once Evan saw the coi pond - forget about the butterflies, it was all about the fish. This kid never tires of fish. The coi were quite beautiful (and big), but in order for Evan to see the fish he had to be held, since the pond was well hidden behind a stand of butterfly bushes. The fish got old real quick for those of us who had to hold him.

Inspired by our visit we purchased our very own butterfly pavilion. I have sent away for the larvae, once they arrive we will be able to watch them form a chrysalis and then eventually hatch into butterflies which we will release in to the wilds of our backyard. I hope Evan will enjoy this as much as I will. More to come on this...

2007-05-05T21:37:00.000-05:00

Kite Flying Day 2

Go Fly a Kite!

2007-05-04T21:32:00.000-05:00

I took Evan to the park this afternoon to fly his new kite. Today was perfect kite flying weather with nice gusty winds - perfect for novices like us. The first time I got the kite into the air Evan was screaming with delight and of course, being the independent child that he is, he wanted to hold it. So, I showed him how to hold on and run and then I let him take control. He actually flew the kite pretty well. He held the string tightly like I showed him and then as soon as the kite was airborne he would take off running laughing hysterically as he went. The wind was pretty strong today and I kept the string short so the kite would climb quickly (with my help), dance around wildly for a minute or two before eventually crashing spectacularly. Evan was thrilled by all of this and was shrieking with laughter the whole time. It was so funny to watch him giggle and scream while running wildly through the field. Once the kite would crash he would let go of the string in an effort to pick up the fallen kite - this is where my sprint to keep the kite from flying away would begin - I couldn't convince him that this was a bad idea. I wish I had had my camera or video camera with me. It was so much fun to watch him. I kept thinking of my Grandfather - Evan's namesake - who also loves kites, and helped me build paper bag kites as a kid; as a fellow kiter I know he would be proud. We are going to go kiting again tomorrow - this time I'm going to bring a camera!

New York City!

2007-05-04T10:26:00.000-05:00

If New York is a city of dreams then for Evan it is a city of dreams come true. With taxis, garbage trucks, police cars, ambulances and buses on every street - Evan was on overload. Not to mention the cool grates, and bulkhead doors that line the sidewalks that he got to walk and jump on. We had carefully planned our itinerary around activities that would interest Evan - The Natural History Museum, The Bronx Zoo, Central Park - but as far as Evan was concerned we could have just ridden the subway all day and had just as much fun. The excitement of riding the train was palpable and Evan could hardly contain himself. As soon as we descended the stairs from the street Evan would begin making choo-choo noises, as though we were about to board an old time trolley. Woo Woo!! Chug, chug, chug, chug! He caused many a New Yorker to turn and smile.

We arrived on Sunday afternoon. First stop: Tompkins Square Park, two blocks from Emily's apartment. It was a beautiful day and the playground was full of children and their hipster East Village parents. Very good people watching - and strangely lots of children in their underwear - we clearly weren't in NH anymore. Evan quickly found a slide he liked and formed a routine of climbing and sliding. He eventually adjusted to sharing his personal space with all of the other kids and politely tolerated kids who didn't wait their turn.

Monday we headed uptown to the American Museum of Natural History. Since Evan is currently infatuated with dinosaurs this was the place to go. The dinosaur bones were of course a huge hit. Sadly there was an incident in a crowded elevator that resulted in a spectacular tantrum. Word to the wise: always, always let a two year old push the button in the elevator - even if someone else has already pushed it. A hard lesson learned, one that reduced both of us to tears. Barring that incident the museum was great, but we were quickly overwhelmed. It is a an incredible museum, and while Evan definitely enjoyed it, I think he'll enjoy it even more in years to come.

Tuesday we rode the subway to the Bronx to visit the zoo. The train ride was 45 minutes of pure joy for Evan. The zoo was great. We saw giraffes (my favorite), lions, monkeys, tigers, camels, peacocks, and ...ducks. Wouldn't you know the ducks were Evan's favorite - the same type of ducks we see at the park down the road. I guess there is something comfortable about the familiar. But the highlight of his day wasn't the animals, it was eating an ice cream and riding the aerial tram or "rocket ship" as we called it.

It was a very fun, but exhausting trip for all of us. After 3 days of a mixed up schedule and very short naps, Evan was tired. But, once we were back at home he slept like a champ. When I asked Evan what his favorite thing about New York was he told me "see big bridges" "see Emily" "see train". For Evan it's the simplest things that make a great adventure.

A Day at the Aquarium

2007-04-21T08:40:00.000-05:00

I have wanted to take Evan to the Aquarium for a long time. He has always been infatuated with fish, and ever since he watched Finding Nemo he has been both excited and terrified of sharks - so much so that we have to skip the shark scenes in the movie. He loves Nemo and Dory though. So we finally visited the Aquarium last Saturday, and despite the $30 fee for parking it was well worth the trip. Of course, the fun began before we even arrived at the Aquarium, because we got to cross the Zakim Bridge! For those not in the know, the Zakim Bridge is Boston's newest and showiest bridge and Evan LOVES it. He usually talks about the bridge in unison with Val and Joe. It usually goes something like this: "Go Boston, see Zakim Bridge, see Val Joe." Crossing the bridge elicits screams of delight that make any trip worthwhile.

However, the real fun happened at the Aquarium, and it began the moment we arrived. While Daddy and Eli waited in a very long line to purchase our tickets Evan and I went to look at the harbor seals in their large outdoor tank (pictured here). At first he was a little afraid but once he understood that the seals were behind the glass and wouldn't hurt him - he couldn't get enough. We watched them swim and frolic "lundel laddel" - (that means "under water" in Evan speak) - and then when the seals would surface we would quickly jump up to look at their whiskered faces. Evan was screaming with delight as I dutifully practiced "Catholic Calisthenics" kneeling, standing, kneeling standing, until my legs began to shake. This went on and on, even after Daddy came back with the tickets. After a minor tantrum, we convinced Evan that their were cooler things to see inside and he reluctantly followed. But once inside, forget about the seals, there were penguins!! And Fish! And Turtles! And SHARKS!! We also got to touch a star fish, and a hermit crab - just like in the book "A House for Hermit Crab.

The sharks brought on waves of terror. Evan would clutch me, bury his head and say "I scared a shark". Yet as soon as the shark swam out of view he would ask "where the shark go?" After a while the fear dissipated and the sharks all had names like "Sid", "Sherman", and my personal favorite "Mommy's cereal".

The penguins were a perennial favorite throughout the day. You can look down and see the penguins from almost anywhere in the Aquarium and Evan took every opportunity to do just that. He also astutely observed that the penguins were "flying" under the water.

But according to Evan his favorite thing was seeing "Nemo" and "Dory" (pictured below) in the tropical reef tank. Although by this time he was tired (it was well past nap time) and hot, but very excited none-the-less to see his friends.

Eli the tank

2007-04-20T14:51:00.000-05:00

Eli had his 2 month check-up on Friday. He weighed in at 13 lbs. 13 oz and he is 24.5 inches long. I have a feeling that one day in the future Eli will be the bigger brother. The days of Evan's dominance maybe numbered...

It goes without saying that he is a sturdy baby. He has what we call "fat sleeves" (the fat on his arms creates a line at his wrists resembling the sleeve of a shirt), rolls on his legs, and dimples mark his elbows. In addition to being rotund, he is also very strong and can hold his head up for extended periods of time. He is a very happy baby. He smiles and coos and waves his arms in apparent joy. He always responds to Evan with a big smile. Evan for his part loves to talk to Eli and is mostly gentle - sometimes he likes to kiss a bit too hard. Evan seems to genuinely like Eli actually, and asks to hold him nearly everyday. So I prop Eli up beside him on the couch and then take the opportunity to try like crazy to get a decent picture. Which is much harder than it seems. Evan is a blur of constant motion (as you all know) and has lately taken to making strange faces for the camera. Eli is pretty easy, but occasionally loses his patience with the whole ordeal.

Eli has thankfully become a very good sleeper (knock on wood), and will sleep a six hour stretch at night and then sleep for four more hours. I am still exhausted though... We like to call Eli the "Nap Inhibitor". The name says it all, it doesn't matter what time of day I try to lay down - that will be the precise time that Eli wants to be fed, then changed, then carried, then fed again. My theory is that the silence of Evan sleeping keeps him awake. Since Evan fills our house with a non-stop symphony of loud noises, all of which Eli will sleep through, the silence must be deafening for the little guy. I am hoping that someday in the near future both boys will decide to nap at the same time.

Who ever told me that two boys was more than twice the work was right. I like to think that things will get easier when Eli isn't eating every two hours, but by then I'm sure there will be other exciting challenges.

Spring Cleaning

2007-03-27T12:08:00.000-05:00

What better way to celebrate the warm weather than picking up a yard full of recyclables! This year the melting snow revealed a back yard mess of "white-trash" proportions. Why had our yard become a dumping ground for glass, paper, and #1 and #2 plastics? The answer, as you might by now have guessed, involves a game invented by one very busy, precocious, 3 ft, blond. It seems that throughout the winter Evan had been hurling the family's recyclables off the deck one by one, week by week. Thereby leaving our our yard to resemble the town dump. Perhaps it was his way of exacting revenge on us for bundling him up and depositing him outside in the cold of winter, or maybe it was just fun. Either way, I convinced him to help me clean up the yard by lying to him about how much fun it was to pick up dirty, wet recyclables. Lucky for me, he bought it. And as we worked he declared: " Thanks for helpin' Mommy" which is actually his way of thanking himself - (not Mommy)- but it also means that he was enjoying himself and was proud of his efforts. Unfortunately the call of the swing set was stronger than the call of the recyclables. So, the wet paper products became my job - but that was probably just as well.