Beware The Ghost Of Christmas Just Very Recently Passed

When NJ and The Wife wake up from their respective naps, the Christmas tree will come down and the holidays will officially be over (don't tell my boss, though, because I have tomorrow off). The season didn't flash by quickly for me, as it has the past few years, but I'm always a little surprised when Jan. 1 and 2 roll around and I look back and say "Well, it's over" to myself. We just relegated the dead Christmas tree out to the side of the house, so it's all official and stuff: 2012 has started.

The best part of the h0liday season was NJ's complete and total warming up to my parents -- she got over her well-documented shyness in a big way. I knew things would go well when NJ, unprompted, crawled into my father's lap, spun around, sat down and put her thumb in her mouth. She'd glance over at him occasionally, and they'd smile at each other and she'd return to contently sit and suck her thumb. That set the tone for the week, right through to the morning they left for Houston and we got NJ up at a very early hour to say goodbye. It's been a little tough for her to get to know Grandma and Dad-Dad since they live so far away, but finally the shyness levee broke and the valleys of their hearts were flooded with deadly, raging love and affection.

The Wife and I managed to slip out a couple of nights for dinner, which was nice, too. NJ really raked it in, gift-wise -- a couple of days before Christmas I looked around and realized that yes, she was getting way too much stuff. Again.

The new year kicked off with The Wife laid low with some kind of 24-hour stomach bug and me limited by a sore back, but NJ was a pretty good kid on Jan. 1. She and I played and watched TV (thanks to a concert we saw, she now knows how to say "The Rolling Stones," and she can "whoo-whoo" like a pro during "Sympathy for the Devil") while her mom recovered (she's fine today). The only real glitch for NJ came today, Jan. 2, when her mom broke out the vacuum to clean up after we chucked the tree out of the house. The kid does not care for the noise that comes from the vacuum cleaner. At. All. I was able to successfully distract her with videos of Bert and Ernie on the YouTubes.

So from us to you, whoever the heck you are, Happy New Year!

NJ's Kulinary Korner, Part 3: A Real, Actual Kulinary Korner

Currently under construction in the basement, this kitchen set -- a gift from her Connecticut grandparents -- will be completed this evening:

Funny thing is, the freezer already needs defrosting.

See that post in the middle, behind the sink and faucet? Dad Solo picked the counter up wrong yesterday and it broke -- it's setting with wood glue now and should be good to go later on today. But if the thing breaks again while NJ plays with it, let's not tell her about that, OK? I don't want to be the guy who broke her favorite toy (if it turns out to be her favorite) before she even got to use it once.

The Wife sent me on an errand yesterday afternoon, and when I got back she'd unpacked everything and started to assemble. And get this -- she wanted me to drop everything I was doing (Web-surfing, TV, etc.) and help!

Once it's finished, it will be covered by a bed sheet until next Monday, when NJ celebrates turning 2 years old. She'll no doubt throw the little pots and pans (not pictured) around and ask whether her play food is organic and local.

Now we'll need to build her a little woodworking shop, a little basketball court, a little scientist's lab and a little executive's office to make sure all our bases are covered.

The Bashful Show-Off

NJ's grandparents' visit was a success, by most standards. Much like her trip to Texas, she started off all bashful and shy with my folks, but being on her home turf apparently made a big difference, because she warmed to them quickly (if not totally).

My mother got a lot of attention -- particularly when she broke out the cookie dough for a baking session after we told her NJ often holds the TV remote to her ear like it's a phone and says "Grandma? Cookie?" She was more coy with my dad, but thankfully stopped calling him "Grandma" in favor of "Dad-dad," his now-official grandparenting moniker. She was still extremely shy with him, but she always made darn sure he was paying attention to her, no matter whether she was in her crib or high chair or on the sofa or running around the living room. He got lots of smiles and giggles, and when he carried her to the table for dinner their last night here, it looked like they were BFFs.

Daddy told me the raw cookie dough is better than the finished product. And, sorry ladies, but he's right!

We (and by "we," I mean "The Wife") were worried that NJ wouldn't play nice with her grandparents when her parents went off to enjoy the song stylings of a little musical combo from Ireland. We got her up unusually early that morning, cut her nap short and took her to the zoo in the afternoon, hoping she'd be worn out by early evening and we could get her in bed early before heading off to the concert. It worked, at least as far as we know; my mom and dad insisted they didn't have to check on her once all night. Flying two babysitters in from more than 2,000 miles away to see a show for which we held tickets for as long as we've had the kid -- it all worked out in the end.

Your mom loves you more, NJ, but she's loved Bono longer.

Yesterday I took my parents to the airport VERY EARLY so they could fly back to Tejas. NJ asked about them when she woke up, later, and again both when The Wife picked her up from day care and when they arrived home in the evening. And they came up again this morning in our breakfast semi-conversation. She's got Grandma and Dad-dad on her mind, which is good. She's got great taste.

Garden Gnome

Her garden-centric grandmother is coming to visit tomorrow, so NJ used the Memorial Day weekend to get some of her planting done.


That thumb she's always sucking turns out to be ... green.

She points to the window box and exclaims "My garden" whenever she sees it now. Next up, I plan to teach her to use the lawnmower.

NJ Has Two Grandmas

We went to Texas last week to visit my parents, who were delighted to get the chance to spoil the little kid rotten. It was quite a time for NJ -- she was pretty discombobulated, but still managed to have some fun. The last time this set of grandparents saw her was way back in June, when our elaborate plot to have them babysit while The Wife and I got our Vertigo on fell through thanks to Bono's back woes. In the past 10 months, of course, NJ has blossomed into a completely different person. A person who didn't recognize Grandma and the man that, for the moment, we'll call "Grandpa."

First things first: On the flight down, NJ was a dream. We waited almost two hours on the plane while a repair crew fixed a dent in some part of a wing, and she was a trooper. Only once, after her lengthy nap, did she squawk, and it didn't last long.

Oh, Daddy, this 'heat and humidity' you keep talking about sounds divine!

At some point not long after we arrived, NJ assumed the role of the Shy Showoff. There was lots of flirting with my parents, but she wouldn't actually, you know, go to them. My father, in particular, was the victim of a lot of teasing -- NJ would watch him intently, and when she caught his eye she'd smile bashfully, cock her head and giggle. If he reached toward her, though, she'd turn her head and pull away. (She eventually turned her back on me, too, and would only consort with her mommy. Me, the guy who attended to her every need for the first year of her life. Sheesh.) NJ remembered that my mom is Grandma, but apparently thought the name applied to both grandparents because that's what she called my gray-bearded, mucho macho father, too. All week.

One day we went across the street to a day care center -- were Dad Solo himself graduated from kindergarten some 358 years ago -- to participate in the annual ritual of picking colored plastic eggs up off the ground and placing them in a basket. NJ and her mom hung around with some kids her age -- kids who were dying for some attention, apparently, because The Wife was overrun with children as soon as she stepped in the room. They waved books until she cracked one open and started reading. I went in next, and likewise was swarmed. By two cute girls in particular, Rain and Kendall. After hanging around for a few minutes, it was time to head outside for Easter egg hunting. NJ ended up with four, I think. Then, it was off for some real fun -- at a Goode Company barbeque joint.

Beautiful, right? Cute kid, too.

The next day we headed to Moody Gardens in Galveston, where NJ took yet another aquarium by storm, backing up and squealing when the giant seal swam right toward her in its glass-sided tank and watching intently as some sort of shark made the rounds in a different tank. She really started to show some travel fatigue here, though. The two-hour time difference, new surroundings, a new bed, a notable decrease in the number of available toys, problems sleeping, the climate -- these things all took their toll on the kid, and when we decided to wait another 15 minutes to see the penguins get fed, she tantrumed up right there on the floor. (There were lots of tantrums on this trip.) We hit a park that afternoon for some slide-and-swing action, one of two we visited that Dad Solo prowled as a youngster. NJ wasn't too impressed by that, though.

Daddy crawled through here decades ago? Who frickin' cares!

NJ had lots of fun on Saturday, when we journeyed an hour-plus to the other side of Houston to see Dad Solo's best-friend-since-first-grade and his family. Best friend's wife and two daughters went above and beyond playing with NJ, and they saved the hides of myself and The Wife by buying swim diapers so the kid could get in their pool. NJ loved it, even though she wouldn't leave her spot sitting on a step next to her mommy.

Go to the jacuzzi and cut sharp to the right, curl pattern in front of the inflatable turtle. On two!

That was her favorite part of the visit. Mine was when she picked up a male doll and said "Daddy," then a little girl doll she called "Baby," then a "Mommy" to round it out. She put Daddy on a dollhouse bed, then Mommy right next to him, then fussed around a bit before adding Baby right between them. Then she moved them all around and shook the bed and knocked all three dolls off of it. I marveled at her dramatic/artistic chops and keen insight into the familial condition.

When we got home we told my father that NJ had identified one of my friend's pieces of artwork as "Grandma." It was supposed to make him feel better (mind you, he took it all in good humor), but I don't think it did.

Sweetheart, that ain't no one's Grandma.

By the time we were ready to come home, NJ's sleeping patterns were completely whacked (the three of us slept in the same room, so I heard it all), and her pre-flight nap didn't do much good. At the airport, as we were saying our goodbyes, my father hugged me and reminded me that they're scheduled to visit us here in Seattle in June. "Every day between now and then," he said, "I want you to show her a picture of me and say 'Granddad' until she gets it." (So far, not so good -- although I think she may be working toward a "Dad-Dad." I hope that'll be OK with him.) Much like our first flying experience with her, one flight went really well and one flight went really not-so-well. And you've already read that the flight to Houston was a good one, so ...

Heat and humidity,' huh? The heck with that! No way!

So bad that I turned my iPod up extra-loud. So bad that we registered our first blatant "shut that kid up" stare from a fellow passenger -- blatant enough that we actually saw it. (Not "we," I guess, just The Wife. I missed it. If I'd seen it, I'd have had a chance to hone my It's My Turn speech.) Halfway through the flight she finally crashed and slept the rest of the way while some other toddlers howled and wailed. (Take that, dirty look-giving woman!)

After a day home Monday, NJ went back to day care today and, now, seems to be her old self again. As I mentioned, my parents are coming up here in about five weeks. Also, there's another trip to Connecticut coming later this year, to see The Wife's folks. At least two more opportunities for NJ to bond with her four grandparents. And to get it straight on the whole Grandma/Grandma thing. I'm working on it, Dad.

Cross-Country Kid

NJ's first cross-country trip was a rousing success. I've put this off for a couple of days because I was laid low by a nasty cold (thanks, mother-in-law!) that I brought back to Seattle (you're welcome, Alaska Flight 15!). I've tried to keep out of NJ's face since then, but that's been pretty hard to do. On the other hand, she's been a regular Super Baby when it comes to ailments, so maybe this illness will bounce dully off of her like a bullet hitting Superman in the chest. Anyway, on to the trip:

Flight to Boston: The worst moment. After checking three bags, we headed to the plane with two carry-ons, the lightweight stroller and the car seat. The car seat is the most ridiculously shaped thing in the world to have to carry around for long periods of time. We checked the stroller at the gate and put the car seat in NJ's seat, where it listed forward slightly. She didn't seem to experience any of the take-off (and landing) ear pressure problems I've seen spark screaming jags in other kids. NJ was restless, though, and The Wife spent some time walking in the aisle with her. Finally NJ fell asleep in her mother's lap and we put her in the car seat, where she continued to sleep (dangling at a precarious angle). After a half-hour, though, the woman behind us yelled at her kid and startled NJ awake -- and she never went back to sleep. So: More whiny crying. The Wife and I each walked her around some, and finally NJ settled down for the last 30 minutes or so of the flight. And she wasn't even the worst-behaved baby on the flight, there was no need to invoke the It's My Turn rule. After landing, rounding up luggage and getting our rental car, we finally hit the hotel before 7 p.m.

Boston: We stayed in a nice place downtown and had a spectacular view of the Statehouse's golden dome, the Charles River, Cambridge and the Back Bay. NJ fussed mightily for about ten minutes after we put her down, then slept like a log -- a very, very tired log that had a big, long day. The next morning we spent at the Common and the Public Garden, where Norah charmed passers-by with a big smile and her adeptness at sitting on bronze ducks. Even though it's been almost 15 years since I left Boston and political reporting, when the Park Street Church bells tolled 9 a.m. I instinctively took a couple of steps toward the Statehouse, figuring I'd better grab a coffee and get to work in the Press Gallery. Instead, though, we returned to the hotel to have breakfast with old friends Mark and Mer before driving off to The Wife's parents' house in Connecticut.

A sad NJ turns away after being informed that the duck would not start moving.

Drive to Connecticut: Uneventful.

Connecticut: Eventful. The Wife's parents are a delight and love their newest granddaughter. Their spread in Northwest Connecticut is nice, too -- NJ loved looking at the goldfish in their backyard pond, and her Grandpa bought her a wading pool that was probably NJ's favorite part of the week. To wit:

O ...

... M ...

... G!

She also visited a nearby house to look at a couple of steers, hit a nearby park for some swing time, and played a lot in her grandparents' living room with all the new toys she collected from family.

Family: NJ met lots of new folks. My brother, his wife and their son and daughter came up from D.C. The Wife's sister and her five-year-old daughter drove over from New Jersey. The Wife's other sister lives about ten minutes away in Connecticut, and we hung out a lot with her, her husband and their two boys. Also, The Wife's best friend drove over for dinner one night with her son. All these folks were properly impressed and quite taken with NJ. (Well, maybe not the grade school- and middle school-aged boys, but who can blame them? After all, there was a hot tub.) NJ slept really well, except for one nap when her five-year-old cousin just couldn't wait to play with her and crept into her room.

Look, guys, I'm crawling. Quick, laugh and smile and clap and shower me with gifts! That how this works, right?

Mystic: One day we drove to Mystic, Conn., to see the aquarium. NJ loves the aquarium in Seattle, and Mystic didn't disappoint, either. Her favorite exhibit was the jellyfish tank. I was partial to the trained seals and sea lions. Then we ate at a restaurant where I consumed fresh lobster (a sandwich) for the first time in years, and the waitress didn't keep the water glasses filled to my nephew's liking.

Back to the jellyfish, Aunt D. Let's go!

Food: The Wife's parents spoiled us with big, delicious meals. A big hot dog/hamburger blowout, lobsters and a delicious fish chowder were the highlights. NJ ate the fish chowder and all the vegetables put in front of her, to the delight and amusement of her relatives. She, The Wife and I also stopped in a Willington, Conn., restaurant where NJ feasted on bits of turkey sandwich and some of my pepperoni-and-anchovies calzone (no anchovies for her, though). We also made a stop at the UConn Dairy Bar, where The Wife and I ate ice cream while a smiling NJ charmed a couple of bikers who were waiting in line. It was semi-surreal.

Animals: NJ met her grandparents' dogs, Winston and Jake (seen here crashing a photo op). They're getting up there in years, and one of them is deaf now, but they were incredibly tolerant of the crawling little minx and her tiny, curious hands. I think she still prefers The Two Idiots, though. There was also a cat that peaked NJ's curiosity greatly (and she wasn't even aware of the cat's most outstanding feature: 25 toes). She doesn't remember Elmore -- a.k.a. the Magnificent Bastard, who was 15 years old when she was born and had to be laid to rest just a couple of weeks after she came home from the hospital -- so the idea of a sleek, aloof, not-at-all-clumsy-and-loud animal prowling the house intrigued her.

Drive to Boston: Uneventful. Although, after listening to Beantown sports talk radio all week, let me say this: Red Sox fans, get over yourselves. Seriously.

Flight home: Much, much, much smoother than the trip out. Now a seasoned air travel veteran, NJ was an angel in the Boston airport. The car seat fit better this time around, and NJ slept for three solid hours on the flight. I would have enjoyed that a lot more if I wasn't sitting there feeling my cold coming on. We got home at almost 11 p.m. and NJ went right back to sleep.

Overall: The Wife and I were extremely glad and grateful that NJ got to spend a week with her New England grandparents (they came out to Seattle last fall, too), and that her extended family members flocked to Connecticut for an audience with her. It wasn't easy for everyone -- my brother's family had to juggle four jobs and his daughter's fast-approaching college debut, for example, to make a week-long trip to southern New England. We appreciate it very much. NJ in particular.

Thanks, guys! Right back atcha!

Crossing The Generation Gap

NJ's grandparents returned to Texas yesterday after a six-day love-in. NJ has been a little cranky lately -- and with a new tooth and a touch of diaper rash, who can blame her? -- but she still managed to turn on the charm and keep it flowing. (Of course, the Texas grandparents are a pretty rapt audience, and already in the tank for her. But nonetheless, she killed.)

The grandparents are so crazy about her that Gram didn't even complain when I put NJ's Willie Nelson onesie on her. That's true love.

Thanks for Tickle Me Elmo, Gram and Granddad! Mommy and Daddy love him too! Right, Mommy and Daddy? Elmo, the naked, fuzzy red guy? You like Elmo, too -- right, Mommy and Daddy? Hello? Heh ... well, too bad for you because I call the shots around here!

And Then There Was One

Monday: Inexplicably fussy baby can't be satisfied for a solid chunk of the afternoon (see photo, right)

Tuesday: Inexplicably fussy baby turns 10 months old as Texas grandparents arrive

Wednesday: Inexplicably fussy baby takes a day off the fussy

Thursday: Inexplicably fussy baby cries with Granddad on the sofa

Friday: Inexplicably fussy baby cries again on the sofa, hurting Granddad's feelings (although he wouldn't admit it); Dad Solo peers into fussy baby's gaping maw and discovers that yes, she will indeed sprout teeth after all

Saturday: Who knows? (UPDATE: Now we know -- a thirty-minute crying jag before afternoon nap. Hooray for teeth!)

Freedom Has A Scent, Like The Top Of A Newborn Baby's Head

I was a little surprised a few weeks ago when The Wife declared she was going to recruit my parents to babysit NJ. We had plans to attend a rock and roll show next month, put on by a little combo out of Ireland who call themselves U2. Not that the grandparents aren't willing to babysit, mind you, but they agreed to travel from Houston to Seattle to do it. So she called them, spoke on the phone for about 15 minutes in the kitchen, and came out declaring that they'd be here for a week. I thought it was a pretty spectacular feat at the time, but quickly realized that the folks will jump at any chance to see their granddaughter. They positively adore NJ and they haven't seen her since Christmas -- and, of course, she's a completely different person now.

Of course, U2 isn't coming since Bono had to have emergency back surgery. (You know you're getting old when a concert is postponed not because the star got busted for public intoxication or punching a cop, but because he threw out his back.) My parents are still coming, though, and that's great. My mother even offered to come back again whenever the show's rescheduled (that'll be in 2011, apparently). She laughed when I said that by then, NJ will be old enough to go with us -- after all, for months she fell asleep to the sweet lullaby sounds of the band -- but Mom sounded a little nervous so I assured her I was joking.

So: No U2, but babysitters. Of course, we can always pop a U2 DVD in the machine. I'm sure Mom and Dad will love that.