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Sending you positive vibes from our VACATION! We're at Nana and Papa's place in North Carolina. It's real beautiful here. And chilly! Pearl gets to sleep in footie pajamas! You may recall my entry on the Houston. It's Worth It. campaign. Houston's 20 afflictions include: The Heat. The Humidity. The Mosquitos. The No Mountains. And so on! So, needless to say: we're very happy to be here.
Here's what my girl Pearl digs these days:
--> eating cereal in her high chair (and in between spoonfuls of cereal, eating her high chair)
--> playing with the labels on her toys and clothes
--> trying to pet her dog and cat (they are not digging her attempts, however)
--> watching her mom sing ridiculous songs with hand motions (the itsy bitsy spider, little bunny foo foo, etc.)
--> flinging her body backwards, from the sitting position, as though jumping into a swimming pool (an infant trust game?)
--> attention (a whole lot of it)
But I'm not refering to those funny dudes at Pike Place Market in Seattle. (Or perhaps I am?) Did you read this story about pollution in the newspaper this week? In a New York Times article, yet another environmental scary story:
The head of the Environmental Protection Agency said on Tuesday that fish in virtually all of the nation's lakes and rivers were contaminated with mercury, a highly toxic metal that poses health risks for pregnant women and young children.
I guess it's time for this mom to up and join the Mamas Brigade.
If this child were a car, she'd be revving up her engines, y'all. She can stand on all fours, just like Jake the dog. She can't go forward or backwards, but she can move her body up and down a bit. Her general sentiment seems to be that movement of any kind is superior to staying still. And today she had a new trick--rolling. Does anyone remember this poem, "The Bagel" by David Ignatow?
The Bagel
I stopped to pick up the bagel
rolling away in the wind,
annoyed with myself
for having dropped it
as if it were a portent.
Faster and faster it rolled,
with me running after it
bent low, gritting my teeth,
and I found myself doubled over
and rolling down the street
head over heels, one complete somersault
after another like a bagel
and strangely happy with myself.
-- David Ignatow
Is there a Shel Silverstein story with a similar theme? I'm remembering something, dimly.
Pearl's rolling (thus far) is sideways. Somersaults are yet to come. I'll keep you posted. [Note to self: Videotape our favorite human tumbleweed tonight.]
I thought Pearl was choking on something at lunch and started fishing for it in her mouth. That's when my index finger discovered something new: her first tooth!
So now I am contemplating what we should do when I get home. Is this a cause for celebration? In my moment of confusion--what else?--I googled it! Here's what I hunted and gathered. There's a wonderful Armenian ritual just for this occasion:
The centuries-old Armenian tradition agra hadig is celebrated worldwide by Armenians, no matter where they live -- Armenia, Turkey, Lebanon, Iran, or the U.S. Agra means "tooth," and hadig refers to a traditionally cooked wheat dish eaten on this occasion. The agra hadig celebrates the appearance of the baby's first tooth.
The Armenian people gather to perform a ritual involving the child. Having never seen it before, I pictured it, rightly or wrongly, as something like a human Ouija board.
The mother props the infant up on a table or on the floor and places five objects in front of the child; the first object the baby selects predicts his or her future occupation.
The objects traditionally chosen are things such as a knife to represent a doctor or sugeon and a book to represent a teacher or scholar. I wonder if it would be okay to improvise? Other details about agra hadig? Well, if you do the ritual in the afternoon, only women are invited and only sweets are served. The moment I read that was the point at which I started wishing I was Armenian.
I find learning about other cultures really fascinating. The only customs I know about involving teeth seem to be about losing them. Did you mark the occasion of your child's first tooth?
Pearl is sneezing a lot today. We have been blessing a lot today. She has a runny nose. She seems a little miserable. We had to squirt some pink tylenol into her mouth. Now she is taking a nap. It wasn't easy to lull her to sleep.
This week Pearl has expanded her repertoire. She has left behind her a life of just drink and has started eating solid food. Solid food is a technical term that is applied very loosely in this instance. Whoever categorized the rice cereal she's eating as a solid needs an eye exam. The stuff is grool. But Baby Pearl is making a big adventure of her foray into the wide world of food & drink.
How much of the sticky paste actually makes it into her stomach? We estimate: very little. But it's a fun game, and goodness knows she's not starving to death.
One thing we are noticing in Pearl is that she seems to have a Texas-sized independence streak in her. She doesn't want to be fed by her moms. When we try to assist, she grabs the spoon and tries to take over. Her dexterity is not perfect, nor is her aim true. Nevertheless she is determined to take control. Same thing has happened with the old sippy cup. She's a do-it-yourselfer in the making.
I've mentioned that Pearl likes to keep a full social calendar. This time it was Jake who got invited to a party, but like a trio of cinderellas, we all got to tag along.
The setting for the afternoon of fun was a place called My Dog and Me. It can best be described as a YMCA for dogs. There's a gym, an agility course, a den, a store, and so on. I hope that as Pearl gets older we're able to find a play place she enjoys this much!
Our hosts were Kat and Suzanne, Chata and Sam. Kat and Suzanne are human people and very wonderful friends of ours. Chata and Sam are dachshunds and are hyper-affectionate by nature as well as nurture. Chata has always had a bit of a crush on Jake, but he minded his manners and allowed her to kiss him as much as she wanted. I guess he sniffed out the basket of party favors ahead of time and wanted to make sure he got to take that golden hedgehog home with him.
On the agility course, Jake was no Olympic star, but 3-leggedness wins a dog many an easy brownie point. If he made it half way up a ramp, did a U-turn and came back down, everyone was impressed. 
He made numerous trips to the water cooler, being careful not to push himself too hard. When the canine fiesta came to a happy ending, we all went home for a long, long nap.
We live in a city with an image problem. The reason for the image problem is that there's a reality problem. The newest and only acceptable media campaign for Houston, as far as I'm concerned, has landed. Houston. It's Worth It. (HIWI for short) is a guerilla marketing blitz commissioned by nobody, and it's evolving into BIG because it's the catchphrase the city has been waiting for. The difference between this and all the previous attempts is simple: it's true!
You may recall the Bible story of Passover in which the Lord subjects Pharoah to 8 plagues to convince him that Moses is right and he should Let His People Go. Well, in Texas bigger is better, and so the core values of HIWI are the 20 afflictions. The list features the real-life issues that fluster all Houstonians: the flying roaches, the heat, the humidity, the traffic, and the no mountains. Despite all these obstacles, the thinking goes, somehow Houston is still "worth it."
Through their company ttweak, David Thompson and Randy Twaddle came up with the new slogan. The idea has gained popular support, and hundreds of web surfers have added their own reasons for what makes Houston "worth it."
Jordy Tollett, President of Greater Houston Convention & Visitors Bureau, denounces the renegade campaign. He feels it confirms a prospective visitor's worst fears. On the other hand, however, he admits,
...it has been a challenge over the years to come up with the right slogan.
"We've probably spent an excess of $75 million in the past 30 years on image campaigns, and we keep coming back and saying, 'Well, that didn't work.' "
One of the more embarrassing moments came in 1997 during the "Houston. Expect the Unexpected" campaign.
The Houston Image Group, a city-sponsored commission, spent $500,000 for an ad in Time magazine featuring a scratch-off sweepstakes game. Only one person among 4 million Time subscribers claimed one of the 33 prizes. (David Kaplan, Houston Chronicle)
The new Houston. It's Worth It. logo appears on the usual tee shirts and coffee mugs, but in an authentic Houston gesture, you can also buy 100% pure cardboard fans in 5-packs. Keeping us cool on our hot summer nights and days.
"They're your doctors, your lawyers, your journalists, your politicians. They're someone's son or daughter. They're someone's mother or father. ... I've seen people of the same sex adopt children, have families. They're great parents."
"Marriage has been undermined by divorce, so don't tell me about marriage. You're not going to lecture me about marriage. People should look at their own life and look in their own mirror. Marriage has been undermined for a number of years if you look at the facts and figures on it. Don't blame the gay and lesbian, transgender and transsexual community. Please don't blame them for it."
- Chicago Mayor Richard Daley
Because my family owned a business, when I was a teenager I didn't do oodles of babysitting. I worked in one of our stores, running a cash register or stocking shelves. It paid better, and I preferred the structure that the job provided. Babies scared me. One of my early experiences with young children happened when I was about 20 and lived in New Orleans. I spent a summer working with 3 year olds at the JCC.
At the time (mid-80s) the cartoons He-Man and She-Ra were popular. In the play area, it was a common sight that a tiny child would assume a stance of all-consuming confidence, flex their biceps, lift both arms and roar: I HAVE THE POWER!
This memory returns to me lately because Pearl is trying new stunts, and when she is successful, her happiness lights up her whole being. She can now sit up on her own with moderate success. If we build a tower of blocks, she can knock them down. She has mastered several of her cause-and-effect toys. If she presses a button, the song Old McDonald blasts again! There's nothing more magnificent than to watch her recognize the fact that she is doing something that she has never done before.
I'm all over the Vote for Change tour, sponsored by moveon.org. A good cause that brings together Pearl Jam, Death Cab for Cutie, R.E.M., Jurassic 5, Keb' Mo' and Bruce Springstein? I'm lovin' it. And go ahead, call me naive, but I'm hoping it might really make a difference to young voters. I figure older voters have mostly made up their minds by now. Maybe the youth of America will save us yet!
I am sincerely frightened about how 4 more years of the current administration might affect my family. In Virginia, for example, new laws are restricting basic rights of upstanding citizens, simply because they are gay men or lesbians. Today we had backsliding news from California. Here's a statement issued by one of the bands:
"As concerned mothers, women and most importantly concerned Americans, we are compelled to do what we can to inspire other voters to get involved in this year's election. We hope our participation in the Vote For Change Tour will be a catalyst for positive change." --The Dixie Chicks
By the way, I poured over the Vote for Change concert schedule provided on the moveon.org web site. Could it be true that none of the performances will take place down here in Lone Star State? Pack your bags, baby Pearl. It just might be time for your first road trip.
Sometimes she sleeps all night long. This photo was taken on one of the other kinds of nights. Her official bedtime is 7:30 p.m. Here Pearl is taking a short break to pose for the camera, before returning to her looney tunes tasmanian devil imitations. It is 11 p.m. O what a night!
Did you play with blocks when you were a child? For my sister and me, when we were kids, one of the few advantages to the arrival of our little brother was that he came (seemingly, to us) with blocks. I guess back then blocks were considered toys for boys. We especially loved the larger-than-life-size cardboard blocks that were painted to resemble either actual bricks or zebras, we were never completely sure. We built cities using blocks and Fisher Price toys, stuffed animals, and card tables covered with blankets. It all came together with a bunch of kids and a bit of imagination. We would spend many hours living in the worlds we created.
Pearl was given a beautiful set of wooden blocks, and she's just started playing with them this week. She's learning to sit up by herself, and if we place stacks of blocks in front of her, they are so enticing that she's able to balance without thinking so much about the difficulty of trying to balance.
P.S. As a child, my best friend was a boy named Block. I couldn't think of a way to fit that in, but I felt compelled to mention it anyway.
I've mentioned before that Pearl is a girl who likes a party. We, her parents, have duly noted a whiny time that seems to happen between 6 p.m. and her bedtime. Those are the facts of the case.
Using a familiar combination of ingenuity and despair, we have started attended meetings, parties, or gatherings at the witching hour whenever possible. That prompted our gleeful participation in National Night Out this year. Although the word "out" suggests gay and lesbian content, this in fact is not the case. August 3 is a designated night to throw a block party and meet your neighbors. The idea is that neighborhoods are safer if the neighbors know one another.
Let me tell you something you might not have thought about much before. When you walk every day in your neighborhood with a three-legged dog on a leash and an infant in a stroller, you may not know all your neighbors, but they certainly know you.
We had a great time hanging out. There's only one other family with a baby on our block, but we might be able to arrange sharing a nanny with them. Pearl got to "visit" with her friends, and when we put her to bed that night, she slept 8 hours straight.
If you want to analyze yourself in relation to others using a cheesy analogy from pop psychology, check out my latest entry over at DotMoms.
This outfit, donned for the first time last Sunday afternoon [courtesy of Aunt Kat], elicited more "cute baby" comments than we've heard so far. I suspect that many of these friendly strangers assumed Pearl was a boy.
Wearing a diaper, infants look pretty much gender neutral, as far as I can tell. People's assumptions seem to rely strictly on the garments. And because people are often hurried, sometimes they assume Pearl is a boy, even when she's wearing a dress. So far we have not put bows or ribbons in her hair, although we often dress her in pink because, as I've mentioned before, we gained Queens de Pastel status shortly after our baby shower.
Do you [did you/will you] deliberately dress your baby to signal a gender? How do you feel when strangers misread your baby's gender? Did people mistake your gender when you were a child? What was your reaction?
One topic that I return to often, both in this blog and in conversations with friends and family, is the topic of rituals. I have contemplated the umbilical cord ceremonies, the 100 day birthdays, and other ways that different cultures mark and celebrate the growth of children. Today I attended my first Upsheren ceremony, and I must confess that even though I am Jewish I had never heard of such a thing before we received the invitation. Just to write this entry, I had to look it up on www.askmoses.com!
The Upsheren ceremony, celebrated on a child's third birthday, commemorates his or her first haircut. Apparently the tradition is rooted in agrarian times, when people learned to never pick the fruit from a tree for the first three years. One of the prominent metaphors of Judaism is the tree of life. The rationale, then, was that you should not cut your baby's hair for three years either. Apparently the Hindus have a similar ritual called mundan. In the Upsheren, you can actually participate in the clipping process. I declined, thinking it was traumatic enough already.
I know that my mother saved a lock from each of our first haircuts and taped it into the pages of our baby books. Did or will any of your family milestones revolve around hair?
We spent the last few days in Austin. I attended a conference, and Marcia and Pearl swam, explored, and took some naps. Although she's probably too young, Pearl made her first visit to a children's museum. Did they have children's museums when we were kids? I think it's a more recent development and a splendid idea. At the Austin Children's Museum, we spent most of our visit in a "ranch" for infants. There were lots of the results-oriented toys that kids this age love. There were objects made of various textures for them to feel, wheels to spin, and tambourines to shake. She seemed curious and engaged. She liked the waterfalls that she could dip her fingers into.
For a future visit, they had a studio called Austin Kiddie Limits based on (and sponsored by) the Austin City Limits TV show. There kids could record and produce their own greatest hits. I liked the fact that the museum "docents" were 10-year-olds. We'll have to check out the Houston museum counterpart one of these days. Discovery on one's own terms--what could be any cooler than that?
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