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.