I made my first foray out into the wilds of Alaska today. Mom and Dad put me in my very adorable pink down snowsuit with faux fur ruff. Then, when I was sufficiently hot and bothered, they shoved me into the Bjorn, grabbed Dozer the dog and out we went into the 0°F temperatures. Brrrr! Although, the weather was frightful, the inside of my snowsuit was warm and quite delightful. I fell asleep a few minutes into the walk. When we got back to the house, Mom and Dad decided they needed some pictures of me actually in the snow. They plucked me out of the Bjorn and plopped me down, flat on my back in the snow. Apparently, at that point, I was supposed to start flapping my arms and legs to create a snow angel. But, the warmth of my snowsuit left me feeling a little lethargic. So instead, I did my abandoned baby impression..
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In addition to the developments listed elsewhere, the holidays in Alaska brought two other new firsts for me: 1) I came down with my first cold. Sniffle, snort. My mom wanted to record the sound of me stuffed up, sneezing and coughing to document the event, but in the end, decided it was in poor taste. Fortunately, despite my tender age, my immune system has proved to be pretty tough. A few steam baths and nights with the Vicks humidifier left me almost as good as new. Mom wasn’t so lucky--a week later she was still fighting it off. 2) I started regularly sleeping through the night. I’m not sure why it happened now; perhaps, it’s all the darkness up here in the frozen North or maybe I’m just worn out after all the eating and time spent with family. Mom and Dad have been adhering to a pretty regular routine: bath (every other night--the air is quite dry up here for my sensitive skin), a snack and then an air lift into the crib, where I fall sound asleep around 10pm, not waking up until 6 or 7am. I haven’t decided whether I’m going to continue this trend or not--I kind of like keeping my parents on their toes. The bottom of the big decorated tree at Bibi and Babu’s was chock full of presents, each of them covered in lovely colorful paper. For reasons unbeknownst to me, the grown-ups seemed pretty intent on tearing all the paper off of them. In the picture above, my mom is tearing the paper off of a present given to me by my Uncle Clay and Aunt Eileen. Mom tried to get me to help her but my motor skills aren’t quite there yet. I can grasp the paper but am not quite coordinated enough to tear it. As I understand it, opening presents is one of the prime activities on Christmas morning. We changed things up a bit this year because my Dad couldn’t join us until the day after Christmas. So, we opened a few presents on the 25th and the rest on the 26th after my Dad arrived. After he got in, my Dad cooked up a big batch of latkes to go with Babu’s king crab feast, the family’s traditional Christmas dinner. Since I’m still hooked on just milk, I looked on with a bit of envy which I voiced after giving my parents an appropriate amount of time to crack open a few crab legs. Feeling the spirit of the season, I gave my parents the gift of sleep for Christmas. I started consistently sleeping through the night while in Alaska--maybe all the darkness helped. I took my first flight on an airplane today. Mom and I flew up to Alaska for the holidays. Despite being warned, my mother still failed to leave the house much earlier than she would have pre-me (she is notorious for her close calls). As a result, we made it to the gate just in time to board. At least she didn’t have to run with me in the stroller. Thankfully, Dad got a gate pass and was able to help us get through security. There was a lot of stuff to send through the X-ray (stroller, Bjorn, diaper bag/backpack, laptop, breast milk)--thankfully not me; I walked through the metal detector in Dad’s arms. Otherwise, it turned out to be a breeze. No one so much as looked at us twice. I guess I don’t much look the part of a terrorist. Once at the gate, Mom said a reluctant goodbye to Dad and we headed down the jetway. Mom had me in the Bjorn and was also pushing the stroller. Of course, when Mom tried to close the stroller at the end of the jetway it conveniently jammed, something it has never done before. It took her several minutes and the kindness of a stranger to get it closed. Luckily we had upgraded to first class (I would have expected nothing less for my first flight), so we had a nice big seat to ourselves. All snuggled in the Bjorn, I fell asleep before we even pulled away from the gate. When the flight attendant came by, rather than commenting on my cuteness, she told my mom that I had to be removed from the Bjorn for take-off. When Mom asked why, the flight attendant told her that Mom could crush me if the plane crashed. I’m not sure how I would be safer, unsecured and flying around the cabin, but Mom partially unstrapped me to appease the flight attendant (Like me, Mom was skeptical of her “safety” reasoning). I slept right through take-off and for about the first hour of the flight. But, as soon as breakfast was on Mom’s tray and she was part way into a movie, I chose to make my presence known with progressively louder screams. Between trying to hold onto my wriggling form and all the stuff on her tray, Mom couldn’t reach the bottle in the diaper bag, so she put modesty aside, tossed a blanket over her shoulder, tucked me underneath and nursed me back to sleep. The rest of the flight was pretty uneventful. I slept through all of the bumps and descent. All in all, I’d say my first flight went pretty well. I can’t imagine why Mom and Dad were so nervous about it. On this drizzly day, I got bundled up in my stroller (tried out my new rain cover for the first time - thanks Grandpa E) and headed down to King County Vital Statistics to get a certified copy of my birth certificate. Then I was strolled to the US Post Office at 3rd and Union, where I had my photo taken earlier (looked super cute in the green sweater Bibi knitted for me). There my parents presented my birth certificate and their own IDs and applied for a passport for me. It should be here in 4-6 weeks. I can’t wait for my first trip and to start working on filling up the pages with country stamps! I suppose Dad looks more excited about this than I do, but if you look closely, I am about to break into a smile. For my first Chanukah, Dad and Mom lit some candles and said some funny words. Oy vey, just when I was starting to learn English, they launch into another language! The best part was the gifts Mom bought me - books! Now if only I could read... I think my parents had visions of taking me out to the wilds of Washington to chop down my first tree, but after an early morning trip to the airport to drop Bibi off, watching my parents wolf down breakfast at a West Seattle diner (they always seem to eat so fast when I’m around) and errands on Saturday morning I was in no mood for such an ambitious venture. Instead, we headed up to Seattle’s capitol hill neighborhood to a tree lot in the backyard of Dunshee House, which provides support for people living with HIV/AIDS. Tree shopping, like most other shopping was a snooze for me. After my parents checked out the varieties and sizes, I gave my ok to a nice little Fraser Fir that fit perfectly on the roof of our car. |
AUTHORWhen I first started posting, I was a highly intelligent and exceptionally cute infant and the milestones were coming fast and furious.. These days, I'm a precocious nearly 5-year-old and my babybook blog has been retired to serve as a window to my early years.. Archives
October 2014
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