Smejko
Thank you Omama and Opapa for a wonderful, beautiful week together!
In addition to his Slovak immersion course, Sam got a new nickname last week: Smejko. I bet you can guess what it means. Look at his face for a clue.
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Mommy wow ... I'm a big kid now
Imagine my surprise when I responded to Sam's crying and opened the door to find this sight. He is changi
ng much faster than I was expecting. 
When did we go from Swaddled Sam to how-the-hell-do-i-get-out-of-here Sam?
Life's Beautiful
We took Baby Chi Chi swimming for the first time. And, really, why wouldn't we take a 6 month old baby swimming in an outdoor, albeit heated, pool on a snowy spring day?
He loved it! I did, too. Download swimming_video.AVI
In fact, this memory is sure to be among my favorites of raising Baby Chi Chi. The water was warm-ish. The temperature out of the pool was super cold. And there was Sam in his little swim trunks loving every second of it. It was sort of like trying to keep a grip on a slippery, splash-happy seal. James Blunt's song "You're beautiful" played in the background while we splashed and danced for as long as we could stand it. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I didn't flinch at the thought of getting into a swimsuit. I'm stoked that I'm in the pool in a swimsuit six months after giving birth to him. It is important to me that I don't let my weight/body image stuff hold me back from enjoying and living my life. I don't want to miss out on experiences with Sam waiting for the day when I am more comfortable in my own skin. I've come to the conclusion that transformation has to happen in my head before it can happen in my body and I think I'm getting there. Meanwhile you can find me in the hot tub at happy hour tonight.
What she didn't know
My friend Sharon died before I could tell her that I loved her.
I hope she knew it anyway. What she didn't know is that her words of advice carried me through some of my darkest hours living at the Coast.
My friend Sharon, a fellow Pisces, left me speechless more than once. She had a way of saying things that made you cock your head to think. Subtle and sharp, at once. I remember walking into her house one afternoon to find her ripping pages out of her journal and throwing them into the fire.
What the hell are you doing?
Burning my morning pages.
Seriously?
Sure. Who's going to want to read this after I'm gone.
Wow. We are so different.
She was a Wisconsin-born European. She didn't seem to care what everyone else thought. And she didn't give a shit about the local leash law. She had a way of enjoying ordinary moments and creating extraordinary ones. She didn't hesitate to call you out on the lies you tell yourself. In fact, around Sharon it was hard to be anything but yourself - and not just the best parts. She told the truth about things and used her hands when she talked. She was a healer and yet suffered herself. She was as strong as she was fragile.
We got word she was sick. I took Sam to visit, sure we'd be back again soon. Maybe we could come over and read to her, I thought to myself as we left that last afternoon. Sam, as I may have shared, seems to have been here before. He seemed to know something I didn't that afternoon. He was so wiggly all day but when Sharon wanted to hold him he simply sat still on her lap and looked out the window with her. She told me he was beautiful and to enjoy him. Not to worry about the details. Not to rush. And I trust those words will carry me through darker hours to come.
We were going to visit again soon. I planned to bring chocolate. Instead, I made brownies to serve on a fish platter in honor of her, my fellow Pisces.
Little Ladies' Man
It's not easy being Future Mr. Right, but Sam pulls it off. Here he is with his Borbek cousin Cassia and Nevesta Ella. And, of course, proud Auntie Melissa.
So I have this thing I do before leaving on a trip that basically involves making lists, then lists of lists and then having a complete nervous breakdown. There is no time or money for therapy. Luckily, I've been here before and recognize the signs. The panicky feeling in my chest, the sending belated birthday cards and organizing my recipe box when I need to be packing and freaking out about things like this: Oh my God. Sam doesn't have a birth certificate yet. I was supposed to do that, um, six months ago. What if something happens to me. I need to do that right now.
Thankfully, Sammy's Godmother Neighbor called with some free time to snuggle him so I can get my crazy on.
What a great little town doesn't need
If you've talked to me for more than ten minutes, you probably know where I stand on the issue of strip clubs, porn shops and the like. Imagine my surprise while reading Saturday's News-Register that a bar on my street will be adding "adult entertainment" to the menu. Awesome.
Let me paint a little picture for you. I walk around this town pushing Sam's stroller feeling safe and grateful to live here every single day. A typical day's walk usually includes a stop at the post office, the coffee stand (even if it's just to say hi), a trip through the local grocery store to recycle cans/bottles and strolling around this "great little town" (that really is the town motto).
So I have to wonder what kind of person walks around this "Great Little Town" with its safe neighborhoods, children riding BMX's and playing at the park, its outdoor pool and friendly people and says to themselves, "Man, all this little town needs now is a strip club." No one. That's who.
What I got from the city council meeting last night was that while the council can't do much to stop it from coming, the citizens can apply enough (legal) pressure to encourage the owner this isn't the place for his, uh, enterprise.
So Sam might be joining his first picket line via Baby Bjorn if this thing takes. Meanwhile, I'll be asking anyone that'll listen to write a letter in protest and for God's sake don't let me see your rig parked near his joint.
Dear Mr. I-want-to-ruin-a-great-little-town and contribute-to-the-subjugation-of-women:
Let me introduce myself - I'm the one who walked by as you sat in the doorway of your tinted-window establishment this afternoon; I was the one pushing a stroller and hissing at you.
Are you out of your damn mind? You're going to put a strip club in a shared parking lot with the local grocery store. So when I send my kid to the store on his BMX for some milk, he's going to peddle his happy little self by your joint? Because, see, before this little brain child of yours, this was exactly the kind of town where I'd feel comfortable sending my kid down the street.
What possessed you to decide "hey, what this friendly, safe, clean and mellow town needs is some pole dancers in pasties?" What made you think that was going to be okay with us, the locals? What made you think property owners here wanted to invite perverts and people who disrespect themselves and their own families from near and far to get off and get drunk and drive around our town?
So help me God there isn't a person I'm not going to talk to about this and encourage to write a letter during this comment period. And if, as I suspect it will, be passed, I will be the one picketing with my baby tucked into his Bjorn.
With disgust and dismay,
Nathalie Hardy
Firsts
Sam, it turns out, likes to surprise us by demonstrating his new talents in unexpected ways. This morning, Matt went to get him at his 6:30 a.m. waking time. Sam, like his daddy, is one prompt little dude. Through the monitor I heard Matt exclaim, "You're sitting up?!" And sure enough, Sam has mastered the art of sitting up all by himself. The other day he surprised the hell out of me by deciding to start crawling right there on the changing table. As I reached over to put the Desitin away, Sam decided he would like to play with it, thank you very much. He flipped himself over, popped his naked little butt up in the air and started crawling toward it. The "firsts" abound lately: crawling, sitting up, cutting teeth (good times), first pears, cheerios, first time in the play pen, first picnic, first grass stains, first in-grown toenail (still trying to figure that one out). He is one busy baby!
Time Warp?
It turns out the world continued to rotate on its axis and time kept on ticking while I was in some sort of a coping-with-newborn-in-the-house time warp. I keep running up against all these little signs that time has in fact passed. The contest entry I meant to do, deadline is still months away. No, it's come and gone. This outfit, way too big for Sam. It even says "6-9 months" on the tag. I should put it in my "clothes for later box" but no. He's six month old.
Damn. It went fast.
What got me thinking about this was I meant to read Crescent by Diana Abu-Jaber, author of The Language of Baklava, before she came to McMinnville, May 1st. I had "forever" to read it. Not anymore.
Also, we've been looking forward to my parents' visit since Sam was born. His Opapa hasn't met him yet and it's been nearly 6 months since his Omama has. This visit seemed like it would never come. And suddenly it's on the calendar for next week!
A few of my favorite things
I wrote a letter to my friend Laura, a good-old fashioned letter. I started it in the middle of the night more than a month ago and finally finished it last night. Seems like I used to be able to dash those off one-two-three. It's crazy how much Sam's changed just since the first few lines of the letter! Thought I'd share this excerpt.
"Life is good here. Awesome, actually. Of course, I'm writing on a good day. Last week I was tempted to test drive a little sports car and drive far, far away. Today I'm glad I stayed. Seems like the trick for me is to let go of trying to strike a balance and just trust that I am. Balanced that is. I'm not high, in case that made it sound like it, though chronic sleep deprivation seems to have similar 'symptoms.'"
Some of my favorite things about being Sam's mom:
- Exploring the world together from the inside out
- Being amazed by him all the time as he grows, develops and discovers new things
- Cuddling and snuggling him
- Being silly and appreciated for it
- This just in: watching him trying to crawl, up on all fours rocking back and forth looking intently in the direction of a verboten item.
- Singing out loud all the time (off-key, made up words - it's all good)
- Pretending to have my own cooking show in the kitchen, audience of one (sure you suspected I was a nerd. Now you know!)
- Sharing it all with Matt
- Watching Sam interact with others and vice versa
- Learning things from others about him - likes/dislikes (this is not to be confused with unsolicited advice)
- Reading books - mostly he likes to eat them right now
- Getting closer to my parents
- I just LOVE him
- Looking forward to the future with him and Matt
Some of my not so much favorite things:
- The emissions - constant diaper changes, spit up and drooling
- Feeling "touched out" by the end of most days
- No time to think in peace (yet?)
- Trying to figure out how to balance his needs, Matt's, mine and Lucy's
- All the unsolicited advice/judgment
- Being afraid something bad will happen
- Fear of screwing him up
- Having to mop
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