Easter, 13 years, and Any Day Now

Enzo colored Easter eggs for the first time this weekend and he enjoyed himself very much.  He is such a beautiful boy.

Then, Mama hid them for him twice and he got to find them  in the yard two times.  He definitely got into that!

His grandparents and cousin and aunties were clapping, and then he started clapping, and then he was smiling after finding each egg.  Good times!

(Me on my first bike.)

Also, today is the 13th anniversary of me riding home on my first motorcycle.   It was a 1986 Yamaha Radian purchased for $2,200, all told, from the BMW dealer on San Carlos St. in San Jose, California thirteen years ago today.  I only got the shortest bit of a ride in today on this anniversary but I did get to ride and those couple of miles felt great.

In other news, our second baby will be arriving any day now.  I realized, beyond a doubt when driving to work this morning, that there is a part of me that is nervous about the upcoming birth experience.  I don't want to be nervous, but I am so that's OK.  It's just that it's an experience that I must go through, I can not avoid, and that knowledge tends to make me feel a little anxious even though I want the experience; as I do in this case.  Knowing that I have not the option to avoid the ordeal gets me anxious.  Knowing that I can not walk away, postpone, or ignore an experience makes me anxious.  I can not avoid that our daughter will be on her way out soon and I don't want to.  It's just that I can't and that has it's effect on me.  Another part of me has embraced the adventure, welcomes the experience,  is feeling good, comfortable, and very excited to meet and welcome our baby into the world outside.

I think this is how I have learned to deal with this flavor of anxiousness.  After the summer of my freshman high school year, an important summer in the making of me, I started noticing what I was afraid of and then taking on those fears directly as a challenge.  This started out as asking girls out, volunteering to speak in front of the class, walking up to people and talking, and generally embracing discomfort.  This mentality has served me well and provided for a lot of experiences that have made my life flavorful.  With so many of the experiences that I have relished was a choice to take on the experience and that came with the knowledge and comfort that I could have changed my mind and my direction if I chose to.  Other experiences have been beyond my control, at least at some point in the unfolding, and I have had to face them willingly or not.  Some of these I have embraced and savored and others I have not embraced and those have resulted in a less than desirable ozone-like flavor and aroma.  Examples of these include when I cut my hand in a window as a child (was I nine?) and instantly thought, "Well, there goes my night, this is what I will be dealing with tonight, I can not take this back, there is no way to undo this, I will have to go to the hospital and deal with this."  I did not embrace that experience.  This resistance to what I can not avoid, this mode of thinking, or of feeling, is what I believe makes it difficult for me to deal with death and even hypothetical events beyond my control.  Whether by my own making or by nature's consequence, it appears to be the same anxiousness, same solution, and the same satisfaction in coming through to other side of an uncomfortable situation if I embrace the experience.  It is a slightly different flavor when knowing that I can't avoid a path into the experience, but a similarly full and positive feeling results when I accept and embrace the event anyway.  Interesting.  I am making my way through this perspective for myself as I type it.  Plenty for me to think about and a good reminder to accept my nervousness and embrace the event of my daughter's birth as I did with my son's.

My baby girl is on her way and just knowing that I will soon be holding her and loving her in my arms makes me smile all the way from my deepest inside straight through to my everything.

First Word

(Lunch with Abuelita.)

I don't know when you call it a first word.  Some people would have declared Enzo's first word a while ago but I just don't know what the requirements are for official declaration.  For example, he says "Mama" a lot.  But he never says it to his Mama.  He says "Popi" a lot.  But he never says it to me.  When I am coming in the door, Tami will tell him "Popi is home" and he'll say "Popi", get excited and run to see me, but he never says it to me.  He does sign language for several words so we know he communicates in words.  But today, Enzo said a word directly and audibly that I can finally say is incontrovertibly a word used appropriately with appropriate meaning.  And the word?…. Agua!

We were having breakfast at home this morning and I asked him if he wanted more agua (Spanish for water and pronounced, by me anyway, as ah-wah).  And he said "agua" reaching for his water container.  Awesome!  He did it a couple of more times after.  So, I don't know what his first word was, and I never before had thought to consider that the declaration of a first word depends very much on the criteria decided on by the adults, but I'll declare now that today, Enzo definitely spoke a word clearly and with meaning.

Tami and I had wondered what the first word would be and whether it would be in English or Spanish.  Agua makes sense as we say it often and consistently in Spanish.  In fact, our family says agua as well when speaking to him, perhaps from hearing us say it so often instead of water.  So this is one word where the bilingual input Enzo receives is minimized.

(Easter Egg hunt in Newark.)

I wonder now how long it will take for him to use the word primarily.  While he used it a few times today, his own version of the sign language for water continued as his his favored method of asking for water today.  Three fingers spread like a "W" and brought to the mouth is how we ask him if he wants water.  He uses his single index finger and brings that to his mouth to ask for water.  I think of it as equivalent to a childish slur in pronunciation of a spoken word from a young speaker.  But today, the word was audible.

The first confirmed word of Enzo Raines has arrived.  Agua.

(Walking with Papi.)

Relative Thinking

Last week I met Nathan and Laurie's new baby Charlotte. A beautiful little newborn girl.  I have been friends with Laurie since high school and Nathan since middle school.  Long term friendships.  And now they have a child together.  Those kids we were have turned in to us adults.  A slow form of magic.

Holding Charlotte, only a couple of days old, I was instantly reminded how delicate a new baby is.  How small and delicate.  And I realised how gradually though steadily my assessment of Enzo's smallness and delicateness has changed.  I never stopped thinking of him as a little baby or as requiring me to treat him delicately as compared to adults.  But I don't think of him as I did Charlotte that day, as I did think of him when he was newly born.

What I'm trying to say is, there was no banner over an arch that I walked through where I discarded an old concept of my son and dawned a new one.  My perception changed quietly but my vocabulary did not.  Rights of passage, life ordeals; they are important to mark and prepare us but reality moves on whether or not we have such events to mark our days and time.  And so my adorable son is no longer that little beautiful baby that he was.  He is a bigger descendant, a here and now little boy with strong links to that perfect little baby that he was.  Now, the perfect 15 month old Enzo.

How much of who I am in my own perceptions is outdated, old vocabulary, remnants of a different me, factors left unmarked by rights of passage or ordeals?
I'm still in my 20's, my body is in it's 30's.  That's how it feels.  Like the me that is me is younger than these years my body has been around.  Maybe not.  Maybe this is just what it is to be in my 30's and my concept of 20's and 30's has just been wrong.  After all, I was just a little kid looking at my family through a little kid's mind when I formed these perceptions of adult 30's, 40's and 50's.

So then........ I am really 30 something and also in my 30's, body and person.  Huh, so this is what it feels like. It's not what I thought it would be.  It's a little funnier, with more music, and lighter hearted than I expected.  Nice!  I thought it would be much more serious.  Maybe it was more serious for my family back when I was forming these perceptions.  Maybe there are others out there with the reverse realizations to make with their harder life circumstances right now at odds with a happy-go-lucky assessment from their youth.

A one could get lost in this relativity.  With no base point to consider unmoving and solid from which to compare all other points or to which one can return when needed, it seems wisest to take in as much as possible, like an insect landing on the river's water, 'fingers' and 'toes' spread wide to find its stability on a moving and undulating body of never-stand-still.

Going to Sleep

A couple of days ago I was trying to help Enzo fall asleep.  He was spinning around in bed, talking away in his pseudo-language, and generally having a good time being tired and awake.  Eventually, he slowed down a bit and I decided to move him to have his head in the same direction as us and then lie close to him so he knew I was there.  His eyes were closed by then, he wasn't moving as much, but was still squirming a little.  I lie there inches away admiring this beautiful human in the low light when I see his tongue dart out and taste my hand.  I say taste because he then sort of smacked his lips as though he were trying to figure out what flavor cupcake frosting he had just discovered. And as quickly as the first time, his tongue shot out for a second tasting and the connoisseurs mouth moved around approvingly. At this point I was stifling the laugh; he was so close to finally falling asleep I couldn't make a noise. My stifled laughs caused my chest to rise and fall but no sound left my clinched lips.  I knew I couldn't bare another licking and keep quiet so I regrouped, moved my hand under me and scootched my forehead to his instead.  And then it got awesomely ridiculous! Eyes still closed, his tongue stretched out to find the world of air only, like a snake just inches from my face.  To the ceiling we must have appeared a scene from a baby adventures version of Indiana Jones with me staring at the advancing tongue.  The tongue pointed right at me and was trying to get closer. I steadied my weight behind my forehead to hold The Kid back. I thought only a second about the need to keep my laughs on the inside while his baby forehead pressed into mine, twisting his face for any possible gain in position, tongue edging closer to my face which was frozen in stunned amazement and then, the slightest last effort of his and llluoooooomp! He licked my nose! I retreated my face into the pillow, barely kept the laughs quiet and in my belly.  Awesome. This last effort seemed to satisfy The Kid, tongue tired and sated, he quieted and slipped into the last millimeters of sleep.

Enzo's Giant Burrito

Enzo making up for lost meals.  He ate 1/2 of a Giant Whole Foods Burrito in one sitting!

Food Works

(What's for dinner?)

It was a week of stomach flu for Enzo.  Not fun for anyone.  It sucked, as a parent, to watch my kid vomit so often and to see him uncharacteristically less playful for most hours of the day.  And, because of the warnings to keep a child hydrated, it was a bit stressful every time he did vomit to consider how much water was not absorbed, how much food was not absorbed.  He didn't look too bothered by the experience, he just went through his days.  We called the advice nurse three times and spoke to a pediatrician by phone once.  All said that Enzo was doing well, the facts we described were all acceptable for the situation, it was stomach flu, and that it could be several days before it went away.  I took that advice just fine for a couple of days but as the one week marker became very close, my concern increased.  Enzo still looked fine.  He always did seem to perk up for at least an hour in the day when he would play and look happy enough.  He was always hungry though.  The medical advice was to only give him very small portions of food and water, and then to wait so that it would digest before giving him more.  The foods were all simple like toast and rice.  Enzo was always hungry.  He knows the baby sign language for 'more' and 'food' (and others like 'potty' and 'water') and so he used those signs over and over and over.  It was sad to stop him from eating and watch his sadness and frustration over not being allowed to eat and drink more in a serving.  Like I said, it sucked.  Enzo wasn't completely himself but he was still super cuddly and adorable.  He liked being held even more so during that week and I was happy to hold him as much as possible.  Finally, we decided to see our pediatrician and so Tami took Enzo in to her one morning.  It was comforting to hear again that Enzo was doing fine, all the symptoms were normal, we were doing everything right, and all would be well soon.

Thankfully, the stomach flu week is over now and all is in fact well, one week after it began.  Enzo is back to his super happy-smiley self.  Playful, energetic, and allowed to eat as much as his body would like.  It's happy days again and I feel so much better knowing he is feeling good.

(St. Patrick's Day dinner at the Campbell Cafe.)

This morning he was so cute.  Enzo was lying back, one leg propped up on a pillow after breast feeding, looking as relaxed as could be in his milk-full laziness.  And then his smile came out, the twinkle of mellow alertness appeared in his eyes, and the morning while I dressed became delightfully punctuated with smiles and giggles.  I will smile all day thinking of his smiley happy face this morning.  It's the kind of thing that simultaneously can get me through the day away from my family but make me want to do nothing but spend my day with my family.  He is adorable, my happy beautiful boy.  His mother is lovely.  And his sister is less than a month away from her big expected day.

(Rocking away.)

Speaking of The Progeny, we have made one more step towards being ready for her arrival on the outside.  We co-sleep, meaning that Enzo sleeps in bed with us.  Which is great.  However, his sister is coming soon and so Enzo needs to make room.  We have been considering our options and Tami came up with one that we started as of Sunday.  We took the crib front off, that side that goes up and down, and pushed the crib up to our bed.  Basically, we added a wing onto our bed.  I was wondering how Enzo would take to it as he is used to sleeping between us and would now be out to my side on his own bed.  He has taken to it quite well and it's working out for naps and at night time.  He is still close to be breast fed, close to change a diaper if he pees in the night, close to watch and love; all the advantages of co-sleeping but with room in the middle of the bed.  And in the morning, when he wakes, it's just an easy move to bring him next to his mom where he can smile and giggle as I get dressed for work.

3 Weeks of Impressive

 The wonderful The Kid.  In the last three weeks there have been several new developments.  Enzo climbed up and into his stroller and sat in it just because it was in the room.  Enzo claps now.  It's also fun when he looks at me from his potty, grabs a finger from each of my hands, and laughs as he makes me clap my hands.  The Kid is adorable.  He laughs a lot when I start clapping really fast while he holds on to my fingers.  The Kid has been running up to me or Tami and giving us big hugs.  He also likes to wrap his arms around Monte's neck and hug him too.  That dog gets more love from Enzo than anybody.  Enzo talks more now and he sings to music, all in his own pseudo-words and sounds.  One sound is becoming very close to 'mas' when he wants more food.  I wonder what the first English or Spanish word will be.  Tami wondered aloud which language will be first.  Mom-like and Dad-like sounds are pretty common as well.  Enzo can walk side ways and take steps backwards, too.  He climbs on things a lot and its always fun to watch him learn something new.

Playing with blocks the other day I showed him that we could stack on top of the wicker block-box, turned upside down, to make our buildings taller.  Then he realized, while getting close to hug me that he could turn around from me after standing atop the box to open higher drawers on my dresser.  Ahh!  I moved the box away to the farther side of the room and turned it upside up then went back to play with Enzo.  As it is I have to put all of my shirts and boxers back in the lower drawer every couple of days when I come home.  Enzo just got up, walked over to the wicker box I had moved, dragged it back over, flipped it right in front of me where I sat laughing, and climbed up to a higher drawer to open it.  I love this kid.

His sister is doing great too. Our midwife says she is growing perfectly and that she is head down.  She said that The Progeny just might stay pointing down until her big birth day.  Tami's belly is nice and huge.  I feel good just thinking about this family I am part of.  It's fun as it is but soon I get to play with two kidos.  I hope they love each other as much as we do... and as much as they probably will love us and Monte.

I sent Tami a text with my favorite names yesterday.  So, we are getting closer.  It doesn't mean any of those names will be The Progeny's but we are a step closer.  Still too soon to share the ideas with the world, though.  The names go through my mind often and I'm beginning to feel my way towards certain names more.  We'll see what The Progeny thinks of the names we offer her when she enters the outside.

Super cool... as I typed that I just flashed back to The Kid newly arrived.  He was lying on the scale, after snuggling with mom and then dad for a while, when I presented him his name options.  He had three combos to choose from.  He was so beautiful.  He has grown so much and matured in his beauty.  He is a perfect Enzo Raines.  I wonder what he will think of his sister.  I wonder what he will think of his mom when he eventually gets to know what she looks like when not just before, just after, or while pregnant.  This will be so new to him!

Mel

Melissa was buried a week ago on Friday, one week after her death.  The advantage of being young and well loved when you leave is that you 
leave your loved ones with so many people to console themselves with.  So many people to help each other accept your being gone.  So many people to share stories in a packed church and outside.  So many people to help each other marvel at how much life you packed into 33 years and to be ok, though sad, that you had to leave.

Mel was an impressive human who lived a full experience and I accept this.

*Updated- I spent a long while at home Saturday night crying and talking with Tami.  I think it's safe to say that a bit of the funk I was in when I wrote this and the previous blog posts was me dealing with these feelings of loss in my life.  I feel better, though worn out, having gone through the grieving.  My eyes burn even the next day.  I'm drained.  I'm in a better mood.  I'm dealing with loss and accepting the grief.

Lost

When I was young I became enamored with the idea of being a bit lost, questing, searching, looking, traveling, trying for answers to unanswerable questions.  It affected conversations, book selections, adventures, music and movie likes.

A couple of nights ago I left work late and the air was chilly but hinting at a warmth to come.  It struck a chord with my memories of youth and reminded me of nights with a slight beer buzz, a lust for girls, an unknowing of life, a lack of understanding of my place in the world, an insecurity of how I would survive, an energy that I would now identify as related to anxiety I didn't know I was prone too.  These feelings that I found comforting and was addicted to, feelings I welcomed.  Feelings I was comfortable with and felt odd without.  The kind of feelings that would cause me to smell the subtleties in the air, take note of the beauty in the sky and the force of life within me, poetic in my own way over the beauty of experiencing life.

I thought, as I drove home, that these nights would never be the same for me again.  The world is not mysterious in the same way for me any longer.  It is rarer that I get into the same flavor of semi-manic state like jumping around inside with the music while wondering if I would get a kiss and not knowing how I would make a living in this world, how to make sense of life, how to be ok just being.
I remember referring to a familiar feeling when the time of year changes and the air is distinctly different and I would refer to it as spooky, but in a good way.  It was a good fear to me.  I see now, again, the heightened anxiety that was an unidentified part of me, a friend of habit like an odd addicting relationship.

I remember an ex girlfriend saying that she didn't like her dad when her mom was busy doing other things because he became hollow as though he didn't know how to smile or entertain himself.  I was sad for him at that moment, partly for his loneliness in his own home and partly because his own daughter judged him.  Maybe I felt sympathy, a part of me subconsciously recognizing my own potential to be in that experience.

In those younger days I was happy to spend half my time socially exploring and half my time traveling alone or reading alone or thinking alone.  I was never a hollow shell when with others or when alone in my wondering, not usually anyway.

Today I was to go on a motorcycle ride.  Tami and The Kid are at dance class.  Somehow I ended up eating too much left over pizza and watching TV instead.  I barely escaped, eventually, on foot to get to downtown.  The motorcycle ride I craved seemed without flavor so I didn't even start the bike.  No book on the shelves seemed worth it.  I'm in a funk.

In a funk, I'm a poor judge but I wonder if I am at a crossroads.  My habitual drive to be lost at odds with my present understanding and pleasure in my child, and the world I know well enough that the unknown is of a different flavor lacking at the least that spice of insecurity.

The pleasure in what I know about my career, my family, my world.... at odds with my habitual refined comfort in unease, anxiety, natural high in the mystery and frustration.  I am a bit hollow right now.  I am in a funk.  Diversions seem as no more than diversions.  I could almost let it go and just be..... but I am not quite ready to.  I could almost cry to get there but I know instead that I could let this unease at this crossroads build as a substitute discomfort and get by, my own form of methadone until a distraction would take and I can set this facing of truth aside to wait for another day.  I hear Arcade Fire playing Ready to Start.  Ironic as it is beginning to work as a release for the false stress acquired.  In effect, making me ready to postpone this reckoning for another day.

Hit replay on my ipod, and my body is dancing in itself.  I can wait for another day to deal.

A Scratch on the Surface of Death

My friend Melissa died.  Her phone number is on my phone.  Her email is there too.  You can see her in the picture above.  Melissa is no longer alive.

I remember when my friends, a few of them, got married.  That was weird in a sense because we are just too young.  But it happens.  I remember when the first of friends got divorced.  Young, but statistics say it is supposed to happen.  I remember when friends had children.  Cool.  We are young, but cool... and that happens.

If any of us died when we were 19 or so from a stupid car accident, well then that would be tragic but understandable.  We are in our early thirties and we all survived that so what the hell is up with Melissa not existing as I know her anymore?  Melissa is the first friend to die and I am not quite ready or equipped to deal.

I have only had to deal with a couple of deaths on a personal level and I have not been successful in dealing with either of two significant and particular losses.  My grandfather died when I was in middle school and I have not fully processed his death.  I love him.  I miss him.  I am not over loosing him in my life and I am now in my 30's.  Just a couple of years ago my dog Agusta died.  Every, of only a few, dogs I have ever had are dead by now except Monte who we have and who is struggling to sleep near me as I type this.  But the first two dogs were from when I was four and then there was recently Agusta and I have still not fully dealt with his no longer being.  I love him.  I miss him.  We had a thing.

I have gone to other funerals.  I have cried for others leaving this world whom I appreciated but never completely bonded with.

I am not over my grandpa or Agusta.  I don't want to make it sound like they were the same.  They were very different in my life and those two holes in my life are very different and remain empty with a sense of longing and pain to fill the void.

But today, today I heard the news that my friend Melissa died.  Unexpected.  Young.  No longer here as we know her.

I have a large circle of friends.  I mention this because I think it is remarkable that this group of friends exists and it is a statistical anomaly.  It's a lot of people who are pretty darn close and have remained so over many years.  Within that group some bonds are closer than others.  Melissa is one of these friends who is well within this group.  She has been there forever it would seem.  She has been there while I have grown and with a hug we have talked and respected and listened and loved.  I won't play this up.  I won't pretend that I am one of the friends that had that closest of bonds that forms between all of us to some others within the group but I would have, and she would have, come to the aid of the other if ever called on.  And if not needed, we would have listened to the story that resulted, big or small.  And I am simply not ready to process this loss.

Today I got the call that Melissa was visiting family on the East Coast when she experienced a blood clot and died.  Matt was the one to call me.  They were just words.  I felt the concern... but they were still words.  Matt and Mitra hosted a Remembering gathering at their house tonight.  Tami, Enzo and I joined.  There were so many friends.  Such a crowd of good people.  Any human would be so lucky to have such caliber and mass to think upon their passing.  Melissa had that.  She has this.

And I am not ready to deal.  I will process in time.  Eventually Tami took Enzo home to bed but left me because she knew that I needed it.  I would get a ride home later.  Kissing her good buy I said thank you and that I would not be able to process this completely tonight but it will come up later and I will need Tami to talk with when that happens.  Tami said she knew that and kissed me.  Thanks Love.

I am just one of many good friends to Melissa.   Not even her super close friend but definitely a very good friend within this anomaly of friends circle.  And still, I think..... did I hug her enough?  Did I let her know she was cared for, loved, thought of, appreciated enough?  When she was at my son's birthday and I hugged her several times and talked to her and smiled and looked at her.... did I make it obvious to her that she was more than a simple mass moving through the Universe?

I know this is silly.  I know these are of those genre of thoughts that need to be countered.  I know there is nothing more I could do now or could have known then,  and I still have these thoughts.

Melissa, I miss you now.  I hope you felt loved when I hugged you.  I hope you felt more important than a rock whenever I saw you.  I hope I never ignored you and if I did I hope neither of us noticed.  I hope your existence was interesting and I am glad for your sake, and for ours, that you were here on earth.  With my love, I wish you goodness and give you my gratitude and appreciation for your existence.

To my grandpa..... I don't know that I will ever have the strength or mentality to get over you being here next to me.  I really miss hugging you.  It is because of you having to leave that I try to let Grandma and Uncle and Mom and Dad and Katrina and Tami and Enzo and Nina and Nino and my cousins and my family and my friends know that I love them.  When you have shown yourself in my dreams I have felt soooo good to be able to hug you again.  Thank you for those visits.  They mean so much to me.  Thank you for your love and your time with me in the waking world.  You deserve so many more words than I can offer you here.

To my Agusta.  I don't know how to describe the quick friendship and love that we shared but I feel awesome in that I have no doubt that it was mutual.  You were this little dog of wisdom and I so wish you could see my family now and that I could still snuggle with you.  Enzo would adore you and you would adore him.  I look forward to you visiting us in my dreams some day.  You had so much life before you came into mine but I thank you for sharing your last days with me.  I hope I was able to show you love and comfort and appreciation.  I hope it was obvious beyond doubt every day.


I don't know how we can live thinking about death.  I don't know how we can accept death of loved ones without wondering if we gave enough during life.  I don't know how I can give enough every day to those whom I love.

I just don't know.

I can't do it any better.  I don't do it enough.  I am just barely pulling off this life that I have.

There are others who matter and have left.  My Tia Soila and Tio Quate, for example.  It's a full enough world to deal with with out having to say good bye to any one.  I know death happens.  I am not great at dealing with this knowledge.

If I die any time, and you happen to care about me, just know that I do feel loved---- VERY much.  I do feel LUCKY to be here and it's been a superb existence.  Have no doubt that I have savored the hugs and the love and the time and the experiences during my existence.  My time interacting and being with you has been appreciated.  You need not doubt with me.

And I assure you, that if I have hugged you with warmth, if I have spoken to you with warmth, if I have alluded to warmth... well, I meant it.  You deserve all that I gave and more.  Thank you for all you gave and all you intended.

And for today, one of Melissa's days, I will have to be satisfied with that.  Soon, I will have to try and process that Melissa is gone and hope that I can feel satisfied that I did my part in letting her know through my hugs and conversations that she mattered and I cared.  I will also have to by satisfied that I will hug her no more in this tangible world.

The Slowest Way to Feed a Dog

 (Enzo playing at the beach during a recent trip to Capitola.)

Today is Valentine's Day.  Tami had the great idea of the three of us going to breakfast before I went to work this morning.  We went to Hobee's Restaurant.  I've come to like the place a lot.  For one, they bring all kids a fruit plate arranged like a happy face without you having to ask or pay for it and they bring out right away so that your kid has something to munch on.  Second, the faces don't always look the same so one can look forward to seeing how the cook of the day makes fruit faces.  And three, there are plenty of semi-healthy options to choose from when over eating at breakfast and somewhere in my mind that helps counter the fact that breakfast places serve entirely too much food on a plate.  A soft rain, my lovely wife and beautiful child for a leisurely morning breakfast was an excellent way to start the day.  I somehow managed to escape with out eating all of my omelet so I had a bit left over to add to my lunch.

Work was fine and amusing enough as well.  I've been contemplating, between tasks of actually working,  if the perfect job isn't being a PE teacher.  That may be the way to spend the days of a life.  You get to be outside all day, interact with the young minds of the world, inspire, and wear what basically comes down to glorified pajamas with stripes down the side every day to work.  Tempting career possibility.  Seriously, that could possibly be the way I spend the last years of my education career.  Anyway....

Then it was back home to play with my son while Tami went to pregnant yoga.  Enzo and I had a blast.  I watched him do his two newest cool tricks.  He spins now.  We don't know for sure where he learned this but he really enjoys spinning around and laughing and falling and doing it all over again.  Also, he likes to walk around with his water bottle now as he knows how to tilt it back all by himself.  We all have stainless steel water bottles and Enzo has one with a sippy cup top.  Until recently Enzo would hold his water bottle but we would help to tilt it up for him.  In recent days The Kid has learned to tilt it back for him self.  Learned may not be the right word.  It's a combination of acquired strength and increased dexterity as well, I would suppose.  Like all new things with him, it's neat to watch.

We played with blocks and made music sounds and read a book about a sparkly fish and counting.  We also played with balloons for the first time.  Linda from work sent home Valentine's balloons for Enzo.  She is always thinking of him.  These are the mylar balloons, not the rubber kind which would be a chocking hazard.  The interesting thing was that The Kid was not comfortable with the balloons at first.  He certainly stared at them but he did not want to get close to them.  That surprised me.  I know balloons seem foreign to him but everything is pretty new in his world so I spent several minutes of our play trying to figure out what it was about balloons or these balloons that made him cautious when he is usually confidently curious.  Balloons are obviously different then most things we deal with on a regular basis.  I started off by playing with the balloons and making noise with them, drumming them against the floor to make a rhythm.  In a few minutes of watching me interact with the balloons, Enzo began to play with them as well.  Later, he would occasionally return to them on his own to play with them and smile and laugh and sometimes just to pull the ribbons and stare as they floated back up.  Balloons have now been added to the list of partially understood and interesting to play with items in my son's mind.

And if that wasn't already enough adventure for one evening at home, I accidentally taught Enzo how to hand feed our dog Monte.  Enzo happened to pick up a piece of Monte's food that he found on the kitchen floor.  Concerned Enzo may eat it, not because the food would not be healthy at the price we pay for it but because the chunks are a little too big as dry food for a 13 month old human baby, I gently took it from him and showed him how Monte would eat it from my outstretched hand.  Enzo took that information and melded it with the his memory that dad has recently let him play with his hands in the dog food bag while I supervised.  I figured it must feel pretty neat and it makes a neat sound to swish around a hand in a large bad of dry dog food.  Enzo then went over to the bag and opened it, took one piece out, and walked over to feed Monte.  Super cool!  Then he walked back, grabbed another piece, walked 6 feet back to Mont and fed him another piece.  And then again, and again, and again for some time.  I had enough time to warm up a bowel of soup, eat it, pick up my dishes and then make a sandwich while Enzo continued to feed Monte one or two pieces at a time.  Sometimes he would drop the food and Monte would eat the pieces off the floor.  Eventually Enzo streamlined the process by walking over to Monte, dropping the food and going back to get one to two more pieces.

The funniest example was when Enzo dropped two pieces in front of Monte while Monte looked the other way.  The fact that the dog was distracted gave Enzo the time to consider something as he stared at the food that he had dropped for Monte.  What he began thinking I will never know.  But he decided these were not the pieces they should be.  As Monte turned around to the food, Enzo was already squatted down with the two pieces of food retrieved in his hands.  He patiently stood, turned, and walked back to the dog food bag, threw them in from above, and then shoved his hand back in to retrieve two new pieces that met his approval which he walked back and dropped for Monte.  I am so curious what he was thinking.  Did they look different?  Did he consider them ineffective since Monte did not eat them immediately as he did the others?  Was he on a rhythm that he needed to keep to?

Eventually Enzo looked at me on my second half of dinner, sandwich in my mouth, and pointed to me saying "uhhhhh" which translates as "I'm hungry too big guy."   20 minutes of feeding Monte had come to an end while Enzo ate his snack.  Tami came home and we had time to chat about our day.  This was a very good Valentine's Day, like no other we have had.  We finished the evening watching another episode of "Long way Around."  It is a multi-episode  documentary about a couple of actors who take some time off from movie making to go around the world on BMW GS motorcycles.  Tami is pretty into the series and that makes it even more fun for me.  Now, if only she liked watching Top Gear.

Small Pleasures

(My fully ink-utilized pen.)

Today I finished a pen.  It didn't dry out or get lost or stolen.  I finished all the ink in a combination of productivity, doodles and brainstorms.  How often does that happen?  It's these small pleasures I am grateful for while working late.  I accept that I missed dinner at home tonight and that my wife and son will be asleep when I get home.  I wouldn't trade dinner with my family for an empty or a full pen.  Knowing I must trade dinner on occasion for responsibility to my profession, however, I am grateful for this moment when I am given pause to reflect on a pen's ink fully utilized.

A very good Saturday

Here is an example of an excellent Saturday.  My Saturday.

I started out with this beautiful boy.

(Enzo in his high chair.)

And my beautiful wife.

And then, I hopped on a KTM 690 SMC.  It's a fantastic machine, with a seat that is too hard I think, just so that you have something less than perfect to compare the rest of the bike to when riding.  I love the bike.  The motor is superbly energetic for 650cc and the handling is sharp.  Overall, a comfortable and precise machine.  I exchanged Nathan my RC51 for it for a couple of weeks.  Nathan (on my RC51), Eric, Don and I met for coffee and then a ride.  The weather Saturday was that of a perfect Spring morning.  That is a treat in Winter.  Pretty sky with a few clouds, blue sky, the smell of plant life in the air.

 (Eric getting excited before the mountain roads start.)

The ride was good.  We went up Hwy 9 and 35 to Alice's Restaurant for breakfast.  Nathan and I took turns extolling the virtues of the other's motorcycles. We decided not to trade back yet.  After breakfast we finished one of my favorite motorcycle loops; Hwy 84 to 1, down to Pescadero Beach, back up Alpine Road to Hwy 35, and home via Hwy 9, 85 and 17.  This allows for a good variety in roads from smooth quick roads to very tight slow roads and back up to freeway speeds.  The smells change with the scenery that includes city, ocean, redwood forest, and streams along mountain roads.  I was particularly happy to see the ocean again as part of the ride.  Nathan and I decided to let the exchange go a little longer and so it was on the KTM that I cruised through downtown Campbell with Don as we had decided to stop for iced tea before ending the ride when the others went home.

 (Exploring at Pescadero Beach.)

That's when I noticed the Ferrari parked in front of Katie Blooms.  We see some nice cars through here but we don't often see Ferrari convertibles parked in front of the bar.  I thought, "Well, Matt would drive a Ferrari and park down here but he doesn't come down much anymore."  And there was Matt as I took my helmet off.  I've never sat in a Ferrari so I was quickly sitting in the passenger seat.  Had I gone any slower in hopping in the car I would have given Matt enough time to finish his question to me "Do you want to drive."  Inside my head, while my butt was surrounded in the Italian leather of a Ferrari's passenger seat, I heard "HELL YEAH," but I managed only to say "Sure" as I flew around the back of the car and popped into the much more exciting Italian leather of a Ferrari driver's seat.  How many steps did I take to get around that car's rear?  I certainly didn't take much time getting around.

(My first drive in a Ferrari.)

It was excellent.  A Ferrari 360 Spyder with paddle shift.  Thanks Matt!  It was the sound that made so much more of an impression than I would have expected.  The motor sings or screams in relation to the right foot, and always in tune.  Luxuriously stitched leather surrounds and with top down on the freeway we could carry a conversation.  I remember playing with a noise making toy from the flea market as a child.  The batteries never last long enough to the kid that controls the sound maker.  A Ferrari ride is no exception.  Over iced tea Matt told me that eventually the excitement at this level wears off when you can drive exotic cars at your will.  They are still nice but it's not like being a kid.  I, fortunately, am not at that point in my life yet.  So, basically, an 8 year old's Christmas is what I experienced.

Quite a Saturday.  After iced tea with friends, Tami, Enzo and I dressed up to go to a hair salon's grand opening cocktail party.  This is where cousin Joana will now be working.

As with all good days, I started with my wife and child and ended with my wife and child.  It's not every good day I get friends, motorcycle ride, ocean, dress up and a first drive of a Ferrari in between, however.

For the health of your own good spirits I will include the following video from New Year's Day.  This is what Tami can bring out in her son just by looking at The Kid the right way.  It will lift your spirits and add a year to your life; just push play.  Enzo had actually awoken for some reason half an hour or so before midnight on New Year's Eve and watched the fireworks with us on TV.  I don't know where he had the energy stored up as he slept but he woke up and started to play before the year was over.  He went from sleepy to full on playing with blocks and walking around the room in a very short time.  After the annual change and fireworks show, he fell asleep 10 minutes into the new year.  The next day we went to breakfast and that's when we took this video.  I recommend turning the volume up for this one.

(Enzo laughing while his mom makes faces to entertain him.)

Happy Birthday Son

It's amazing that we have had Enzo for 12 months.  Tami and I were talking on our way to her sister's house for Enzo's birthday party; reminiscing about the day Enzo got out of the womb.  Well, we've been reminiscing for a couple of days with "remember what we were doing a year ago?"  Three days of contractions and 15 hours in the hospital gives a lot of "one year ago right now" reminiscing range to work with.  And then, 12:03 pm happened and  Enzo was peacefully asleep for a nap.  I remember the nap we got after Enzo was settled in, after he was born.  Tami and I were exhausted.  Surely, Tami was more exhausted than I, and I was super exhausted.  What an amazing event Enzo's birth was.  What a powerful and significant experience that was.  And now, this beautiful kid walks around, has 6 teeth, smiles a lot, likes to make noises, likes to play with Maggie (cat) and Monte (dog).  He gets happy to see his mom and dad and likes to be held by us.  He laughs like crazy sometimes, especially with loud kisses to his belly.  He has the sweetest baby cheeks to kiss.  This year with him has been spectacular.  He is happy and beautiful and we are so lucky to be a family.

One year old.  His first lap around the sun.

Here are a few pictures from Enzo's birthday party.

Calmly Gliding Through Space

Today the earth traveled through a place in our solar system worthy of note.  Having already passed through this spot just 12 months ago, at 12:03pm on December 30th, loudly declaring his existence to the world and to anyone in the vicinity, Enzo marked this significant moment in his time, this time around, by calmly and quietly gliding through space.

Enzo, baby girl, and a dash of OCD

(Looking for our Christmas tree.)

So much has been going on and big days are ahead.  Enzo's first Christmas is nearly here as is his first birthday.  So, I better post a bit of recent events before these big days happen.  Enzo will be 1 year old in just one week!

(First haircut.)

Updates on Enzo first.  It took two Sundays but we found the perfect tree.  My dad wanted to take us to cut down Enzo's first Christmas tree.  The rain was heavy on the first day so we avoided the mountains but didn't find what we were looking for.  We did the next week in the Santa Cruz Mountains.  Our perfect tree.   Since then, Enzo's 5th tooth has broken through and it looks like the other teeth adjacent to his currently exposed center teeth are ready to join in.  Also, Enzo got his first haircut from Cousin Jo.  It's been a big month for The Kid.  It is amazing to think he will be one year old in just a few days!

(At the Academy of Sciences Museum in San Francisco)

And for baby girl?  She is doing well.  The big news is that I felt her moving for the first time two Tuesday's ago.  Awesome!  Tami says she is moving a lot and, apparently, she is like her brother in that she likes to play on Tami's left side and kick around.

As for me, I started going to see a therapist regularly.  I mentioned this in a previous blog.  It was my preemptive strike to make sure that panic attacks are not an issue as we approach the birth of our second child.  I was told that I have made plenty of progress with panic attacks having learned to deal with the anxiety and having not had a full panic attack in over a year.  My therapist said that I am, however, experiencing general anxiety and so I've been working on that.  Then, she mentioned that she would like me to see a psychiatrist.  So, I did, last week.  That's when I was told that I have OCD.  That's the big news in my personal psychological epic.  The psychiatrist tells me that all of the various anxiety ailments are connected and people who experience one issue often experience more than one.  He told me that while he could be wrong, he thinks that OCD is the main issue for me and has been for a while.  The general anxiety and other anxiety related issues I experience are the results of frustration and stress as I'm dealing with OCD.  Interesting.

I really did not see that coming.  I have always referred to certain things I do as "OCD tendencies" but never thought of myself as having OCD.  I live a pretty normal and successful life and nothing I deal with seems to get much in the way.  I've got my own methods for dealing with my "tendencies."  Now, as I learn more that OCD is not just odd actions, but includes thoughts, I understand that my tendencies have been around for a long time and really do have a major affect on my life, thoughts, decisions, and time.  The O, obsessive part of OCD, are the intrusive thoughts.  The C, compulsive part of OCD, are the methods and rituals to deal with the stress of the obsessive thoughts.  And the compulsive part can be thoughts to alleviate the stress caused by the obsessive thoughts, not necessarily physical actions. I use both thoughts and actions to deal with my obsessive thoughts.  Okay, I can see that I have OCD.  I've been diagnosed for all of two days but everything looks a little different as I try to analyze my experiences through a new analytic frame.

I met with my therapist yesterday to go over the results of that meeting and to talk.  I was reminded not to think of myself as having a bunch of issues but as dealing with anxiety that has expressed itself in a few ways.  I feel pretty good.  I wish I would have gone to a therapist a long time ago.  A year ago I would be satisfied to not have panic attacks as a regular part of my life.  Now, I find that so many of the thoughts I have are not necessary, that there is a way to learn to deal with them just like I did with panic attacks, and the associated stress that I have taken for granted as a part of being a thinking human being are not requirements for that status at all.  Knowing that has made feel hopeful and good.  To sum up with a simile; it's like not knowing I had a piece of glass in my foot and dealing with what I thought was the normal pain of using both feet to walk.  And then, feeling optimistic when someone says: "Hey, you have a piece of glass in your foot.  The pain you feel there, it's not normal, but don't worry.  You don't have to accept it.  I can help you get it out and you will feel better.  It happens to plenty of people and we're really quite good at removing glass from people's feet.  In fact, here's a book to get you started."  That's where I am at.  Hopeful, with a book, and a beautiful kid, and another on the way, with a great family, and two weeks off from work to contemplate and enjoy it all.

Entropy and Construction

 (Enzo the Helper.)

In the last couple of weeks, some of Enzo’s new skills have become increasingly obvious.  Tami tells me that this week she watched him take notice a toy on the ground, squat down low without sitting, pick up the toy, stand up and continue walking with the toy.  Also, he’s learning how to get off of our bed, with us watching but not always helping him, by turning so that he is feet first getting off.  Tami has been showing him how to this for a while but I didn’t expect him to learn how to do this already and to remember to do this most of the time.  It’s really neat watching him do things that require planning.  And, there is another trend that has been building.  One that showed itself very clearly last night. 

Enzo’s general play, as is to be expected, is entropic in nature.  He is an agent of chaos in his actions even as his body builds him with the force of order into a larger human.  In keeping with his entropic nature, Enzo likes to see stacked blocks and then wave his arms through them until they fall.  My task is stacking them quickly and watching him knock them down again.  It’s fun.  Besides blocks, Captain Entropy likes to wave his arms about towards pillows or his mom or his dad when he is excited.  Enzo especially loves helping mom and dad by finding any box, or clothes hamper, and pulling everything out for us.  Adorable.  Messy, but adorable.    Lacking the dexterity and practice to manipulate, it makes sense that children first learn how to use their power to break apart and create disorder.

Eating has been the exception for some time.  Enzo can use two fingers to pick up small pieces of food and move them to his mouth.  I like watching that, too.  Recently, however, and this is the new trend that I alluded to above, I have seen Enzo place toys or clothes back into a container.  Yesterday, I watched him empty and refill a toy box (meaning a small box he likes to play with as a toy) with several wooden blocks.  It was like watching him practice putting blocks away.  He would place them in and get them to be relatively neat.  Then, empty them to do it again.  But the next time, he might try to throw them in from a couple of inches away.  Some would go straight in.  Some would bounce.  In one case, he kept throwing the same block at the area where it would bounce out, several times, making only the slightest adjustments to his throw.  The “throw” here was less than four inches.  He would throw other blocks in to the middle of the box.  But the one that bounced off the edge he pursued until it just barely cleared enough of the edge to go in.  It looked as if he was testing the situation to be sure of consistent results and then testing to see how to change the results. All of this took place while he was calmly sitting and focused.  I sat behind just watching.  There was no doubt that he was finding pleasure in organizing his blocks this time.  He was an agent of organization and construction, not only an agent of entropy and chaos.  When he does interesting things I often remind myself to be still, watch and appreciate; fighting the desire to get involved and distract him with my excitement.  When he was finally done with his little box and big blocks, that’s when I went back to kissing him, making noise, and playing with him.

Baby Girl!

We are having a girl! The Progeny is a Girl! I am excited. I would be excited if we were having a girl or a boy. I guess I'm excited just to know more about our precious baby.  She is beautiful in that fuzzy ultrasound way that 19 week fetuses are.  Plus a little more because she is mine to love and care for on Earth.

 (Her first foot print, recorded in sound waves.)

I should qualify this just in case there is a surprise later. The ultrasound technician could not get that perfect angled shot, the definitive boy or girl shot.  So, she said things like "you're having a girl", "I'm leaning towards girl", "I'm 80% you are having a girl." So, a little mystery for us.  But, it looks to be that The Progeny is a girl.  While the technician couldn't get the shot she wanted she did get a shot of our baby's bottom and was pretty sure she was looking where the avocados would be for a boy and she saw no produce from the angle she had.  So, to sum up, we are having a healthy and beautiful baby girl...... we're 80% sure.  And I love her!!!!!!!  I'm going with a definite girl and if I'm surprised then that's cool too.  I can be right or wrong. I'm not the biggest fan of most gender roles and I don't think our baby is learning them just yet any how.

So, the name search begins for me.  Tami is not as anxious as I for the name.  In fact, I was under the impression that we knew at least the first name if we were having a girl.  Tami told me a name she wanted for a girl a while back and I love it so I assumed we were set.  I was referring to her as this name in my mind as soon as we learned her gender.  But Tami made a good point.  What if we see her and that's just not her name?  Valid point indeed.  So, we need some more names to consider and then there is the middle name.

We have lots of time for names.  The Progeny, our baby girl, arrives sometime around April 27th.  And that's pretty exciting.

Thoughts of November

November 2010 is nearing it's end and my son is nearly 11 months old.  He is an impressively beautiful child to me.  He gets around well, crawls pretty quickly when he wants to and walks fairly confidently for certain distances.

(At Great Grandma's house for Thanksgiving.)

I've been thinking plenty, and writing.  Not on this blog but allowing my thoughts to flow in a journal.  The thoughts that occupy my mind most lately are of going back to graduate school.  I've been spending time looking into programs, contemplating my motives, and considering my plans for the near future in my career.  Thoughts of returning to school amuse me when I consider how excited I was to be done with homework in May.  I have come to accept that I simply enjoy the process of working towards degrees or certifications, struggling with new knowledge, and a college life.  I like teaching, but I think I like learning even more.  So, I have been exploring my mind and the internet for local programs and thinking about what I will need to do in order to get in to a desired graduate program in about three years.  Normally I spend my last waking hour, when the house is quiet, going through Craigslist.org looking for interesting motorcycles or cars to unwind.  This last week I have spent the majority of that time researching colleges and programs.  It feels good to work towards something, even in the early stages before I know if I'll be needing a plan to work towards anything at all.  Some of the most interesting thoughts have been analyzing my motives, seeking to understand how much of my motivation is ego centric, career minded, and/or pleasure seeking.  Greg has made an interesting point that I can drop thoughts of my ego and quit trying to guard against it as though it were a bad thing.  He tells me there is nothing wrong with wanting to be the best at something or having goals.  Well made points as a result of a long conversation after which I began to focus on the other questions of what programs to consider and how will they affect my career goals.  This is what I think about each night and explains why last night I dreamed of visiting Universities and completing applications.  Why the security guard came into the dream I do not know.  Doesn't everyone complete their applications on a clip board, in the quad next to a gazebo in the night?  Luckily, this security guard turned out to be a friend in my dream world.

A list of November, 2010, experiences to wrap this up:  I have now begun a new phase in my vice principal career in which I conduct teacher observations and evaluations.  An interesting experience in itself.  I have separated two girl students who were very unhappy with each other.  I have realized, yet again, that I simply do not know instantly or with confidence how to help certain students succeed and I am forced in such cases to rack my brain looking for the "best" option instead of the "right" option of which I am simply unaware (I have much to learn).  I have lusted after a car again.  This is a feeling, when applied to machinery, that I generally experience with motorcycles.  I have test ridden the Can-Am Spyder three wheeled "motorcycle" in the rain with Don and Nathan at the annual International Motorcycle Show in San Mateo.  I have begun seeing a counselor again to help me continue to address my anxiety issues.  This for the sake of a good life, to continue progress in preventing panic episodes, and as a precautionary system to have in place to help me deal with any worries in the months before our second child is born.  Sometimes I think I am doing just fine and great working through my anxiety issues on my own and with certain people to go to.  Other times, like after seeing a counselor again this month, I am reminded of how much stress I carry with me even through my good life and how I could really use the help learning to process the stress.  I have just spent four excellent days with my wife and baby for the extended holiday weekend.  I have visited, conversed with, enjoyed, and watched my son play with lots of family, friends, a kitten, and two puppies.  I have enjoyed the cold and getting warm.  I have appreciated the rain from a covered patio.  I have snuggled with my Enzo.  I been loved by my wife.

 (Art in a headlamp...)

(Don getting off of the Can-Am Spyder in the rain.)

Anaheim Trip

Wednesday afternoon we were off to Anaheim, California for Tami to attend and present at an educator's conference.  I went to spend time with them and to take care of Enzo while Tami was at the conference.  It was a perfect time for Enzo and I to be together.  From Wednesday at 3pm until Monday morning at 7:30am, I was with Enzo.  This was the most time I have spent with The Kid in a long while.  This trip also provided the most time I have spent alone with Enzo... ever.  While he still breast feeds, his ability to eat so many solid foods at this point has made it possible for us to spend long hours away on our own adventures while Tami does other things.  We made the most of it.  We spent a lot of time playing with blocks, making mmmmmm and baaaaaaa noises, going on walks, napping, and eating.  Eating is a long processes.  Tami asked what I learned about my son these four and a half days spending so much time alone with him and the biggest item on that list is that this kid loves macaroni and cheese and can eat an unbelievable mass of it compared to his total weight.  This we discovered at the Rain Forest Cafe at Downtown Disney where Enzo proceeded to pack away a large bowl of mac and cheese covered in a ridiculous amount of cheese sauce.  I had to slow him down on occasion to take off layers of cheese.  I have no idea how he was able to get it all inside his belly.

Something this trip gave me was a lot of time to simply admire and appreciate my son.  He is beautiful, smiley, happy, and a joy to watch.  I was thinking about, as I have been doing recently, how cool it is that he can provide so much joy to me and thus, how cool it is that I have done the same for my mother specifically as well as for others.  It makes me happy to know that at some point in my history, though I do not remember it, my smiles and noises and explorations and happiness made my mother so happy just to be near me, to love me, to watch me, and to appreciate me.  I feel very good knowing that I provided this great joy for her.  And I did this for others who cared about me.  It's a neat feeling knowing that I did this just as my son does this now for me.  How cool it is that we start out with this ability to provide such joy to others simply by being.

Another neat thought came to me at dinner tonight.  Tami made her home made tortillas and I was enjoying them hot off the stove while our dinner, one of my absolute favorite Tami meals, her bean soup, was cooking.  I shared some tortilla pieces with Enzo as they cooled and he was hooked.  Tami's tortillas are good, so I can understand.  Then I realized that right now, as Enzo eats these tortillas, Tami is in such a neat position establishing his favorites.  She is practically programming our child.  Anything she makes that is good is now about to become the best, the absolute measure by which others are compared.  My grandma's spaghetti is delicious!  No doubt about it.  But I know that all others are compared to grandma's spaghetti and meatball because, while grandma's comes with love for me, it is also so much a part of my life's history.  The spaghetti sauce and meatballs of others may taste good but I know that that they don't, and simply can not, truly compare to my grandma's.  Grandma's are the standard of excellence to me and always will be just as my mom's Spanish rice is the standard for me.  Objectively delicious and subjectively perfect.  And Tami gets to do this now with Enzo.  She now gets to establish, through no additional effort, the preferences of our son and the standards by which his future meals will be measured for any meal she makes well and often.  I wonder if I will perfect any meals in time to have a similar effect.  It's interesting to already know my son will like thick tortillas when he is older.  I wonder if he will like oatmeal thick as his mom does or soupy like his father does.  Time will tell. 

(The Happy Lion for Halloween)