Absence Makes the Something Grow Something Something

I'm about 2,400 miles from NJ right now, thanks to an unexpected trip home to Houston. Four days away from the kid. The first time I've spent more than three hours away from her, I think. Some ridiculous number like that. And ...

When Dad's away: Rockin' the eggplant knit hat, heart-and-peace-sign onesie and a new denim jacket.

... now I have a completely new understanding of what The Wife goes through when she leaves NJ in the morning and goes to work. The Wife, getting a taste of Super Solo-ing herself, has obliged with e-mailed photos, as has a very considerate friend, but it's not the same. The first night I was gone I looked at the clock, subtracted two hours for Pacific time, and wistfully said "NJ's getting her bath right now." I actually said that out loud.

So: I'm out four days and nights. The Wife's typical week: Out five days, home for those nights. I'm going to call that a draw and say that this trip is about equal to one of The Wife's work weeks. I'm counting myself as lucky that I only have to do it once. Because I sure do miss the little diddle. I left town thinking "nice little break," and by the time I landed the dial had moved to "She doesn't nap when I'm not there!" and other hand-wringing nonsense.

Here's one thing I missed:

For the love of all that is good and holy, I beseech you, woman: No more of this pureed !#&@^!&* peas* nonsense. Daddy would never let this happen.

When you're there participating in a fiasco like that, you hit the whole range of emotions, from "This'll be nutritious fun!" to "You're so cute" to "Come on, now" to "Sheesh, kid, EAT!" and "Get your hand out of that!" When you only get a couple of photos of it in e-mail, though, it looks like it was the Best Time Ever ... and I missed it. Sigh.

Oh well. Maybe missing out once in a while will make the next Best Time Ever even better.

Update: Pureed avocadoes, not peas.

The World's Most Underrated Baby Milestone 2: Revenge of the Baby Milestone

NJ now loves mirrors. We stand in front of the hallway mirror and I point to her image, asking "Who's that right there?" She looks at herself in the mirror and smiles; then she looks at my image and smiles bigger. Then she tentatively reaches a hand up to my face, watching it happen in the mirror. Once her hand lands on my cheek or chin, she turns and looks up at me and laughs.

One Day We'll Curse in Fluent Kangaroo

We took NJ to the zoo on this very sunny February Saturday. A zoo trip has been talked about here for weeks, both me and The Wife and with our PEPS group friends. In fact, a trip two weekends ago was canceled because of wet, cold weather. I have been ambivalent about the whole thing, because I don't think six months is old enough to appreciate the zoo. Nevertheless, the weather is gorgeous and we've been cooped up in the house so many weekends in a row because of rain or illness that we had to get out of the house. And Woodland Park Zoo was the destination.

Now, NJ had a good time. She loved watching the crowds walk by, and being out in the sunshine (when it wasn't making her squint), and being passed back and forth between her mom and dad. But I don't think she saw any animals, or cared much about them if they did. Not even this guy, who reminds me of her uncle:

Here’s another thing a monkey won’t do
Go out on a night and get all in a stew
Or use a gun or a club or a knife
And take another monkey’s life
Yes, man descended, the worthless bum
But, brothers, from us he did not come

I know she saw an orangutan, because his big, flat face was two inches from the glass and I held NJ up two inches from the glass, too. She had a thing or two to say to him, but I doubt he heard. It was nothing like being at home when one of the Two Idiots roams the great hardwood savanna and is within reaching distance -- now, that's exciting. She wasn't the youngest child I saw there, but she was among the youngest. She'll love the zoo one day, but today it was just another outing with the folks. Which is pretty good, too. But not quite as good as when you know you're six inches away from an orangutan that could, if not for the glass wall, snatch you up and carry you off.

Things That Fascinate My Daughter

NJ has toys spread out across our house. At any given moment you can reach to the coffee table, the living room floor (inside her play tunnel), the dining room table, the breakfast nook table, anywhere in her room, the basement floor or the office floor and find something to shove into her meaty little hands. Still, there are mundane and random things around the house that positively mesmerize her.


When NJ gets her evening bath in her tub, which fits into the kitchen sink, she loves to look at her distorted reflection in the kitchen sink faucet. Recently she's learned that it swivels, and The Wife and I are on constant alert now to make sure she doesn't bang herself in the mouth with it.


Whenever NJ is playing on the floor and one of The Two Idiots goes strolling by, play time is suspended until he's out of sight or lays down somewhere. NJ loves to pet Willie (L) and feel his soft fur, which we allow under very controlled situations. Zeus (R) never really gets close enough for that. He'll duck in and sniff the top of her head, then dart off like he's stolen a candy bar from a counter display.


As mentioned before, this ceramic bass hangs over an entrance to the kitchen. That's where we take NJ to dance the fussiness out of her, something she enjoys greatly. When she looks up and happens to get Fred the Kitchen Fish in her sights, she locks in on it and pretty much doesn't stop staring at it until she's out of the room. Go figure.


Trying to get ready for the day in the morning, but NJ is crabbing and crying on the bed? Start brushing your teeth with an electric toothbrush and show her what you're doing. Something buzzing weirdly in your mouth -- it's a show-stopper. I can't tell if she is intrigued or horrified, but her eyes get big, she stops squirming, and doesn't move until the thing shuts off.


The washer-sink combo is a weird one. Ambient noise from the dryer and washer make for good basement nap accompaniment. But when the washer discharges its water into the sink, it's a mini-Niagra Falls. The roiling, rumbling water prompts NJ to jerk her head over to see what's going on (she can't, because there's a rack of hanging clothes between her nap swing and the laundry area). The first time it happened it scared her. Now, though, once it's over, she goes back to dozing.


Another nap-time diversion: my cell phone. She watches the reflection of the screen in my glasses and (I think) it calms her. She sees me, sees pretty lights, feels good. If she gets cranky, I call her name and wave the phone back and forth so she can see it. She watches intently and calms down.


More and more, NJ sits in my lap as I sit at the computer. And more and more, she's fascinated by the keyboard. Mommy and Daddy seem to be having a lot of fun, after all, so why not try it? She bangs the handrest area with her full hand, and lately has been reaching up onto the keys themselves. In fact, I had to start this missive over when she made the first version disappear. I think she's embarrassed about the ceramic fish thing.

Six Months: A Nice, Round Number

Yesterday was NJ's six-month birthday and her parents did nothing at all to commemorate it. We didn't even take a photo to mark the occasion. In fact, despite hitting the half-year mark, NJ didn't get any special attention. Just the usual amount of attention -- which, granted, is enough attention to choke a horse, more attention that you can shake a stick at.

Anyway, since her half-birthday was on a federal holiday, we'll just say that we got the presents and celebrating out of the way early. There's last week's Jumperoo purchase (the contraption has been moved to the basement, and I'm delighted/relieved to say that NJ has actually gotten bored in it a couple of times) as well as a couple of other new toys and books The Wife picked up on a short walk this weekend. (There's a very cool kids' clothes and toy store a mere two blocks away. A blessing and a curse.) We went on several outings, and NJ was fawned over appropriately everywhere. She and Dad Solo even had a giggle-fest at the supermarket, a place where she's usually too wide-eyed to notice her parents at all.

Sorry, kid. Six months is impressive, but you're still not old enough for that.

If we had made a really big deal of things, NJ would have had a candle plopped in the middle of a serving of pureed sweet potato. That's her favorite solid food for the moment, along with rice cereal. Pureed peas and squash? Not so much. Acquired tastes.