JourneyLeaf: Life a Page at a Time

Elijah

I'm so thankful I kept a journal while I was pregnant.  There's so many things I probably would have forgotten... 

Was it just me, or does everyone immediately start thinking of baby names when they realize they have a kid on the way?  Perhaps it is partially a writer thing.  When I write fiction, I love finding the perfect name that suits a character.  The hard thing about naming a baby, though, is that two people are involved and their connotations for a name don't always match.  I was a little crestfallen when I announced some of the names loved but Brian didn't care for them.  The opposite was also true.  So last year, as we drove across the country to our new life in California, Brian and I read through baby name lists, mentally sifted through the family tree, and even tried out place names from signs and road maps.  

I wanted a first name familiar enough that people would recognize and remember it, yet didn't want my child to have three other kids with the same name in his kindergarten class.  Social Security has a website that ranks baby name popularity each year and my goal was a first name well outside the top 100.  Brian and I both love history and share a Southern heritage of salt-of-the-earth, full-of-love ancestors, so I wanted a name reflecting that past as well.  We decided, however, that we wanted our child to have a first name all their own rather than one weighted by legacy.  (Naming a child for someone is a wonderful honor yet can also become a duty.)  

For a girl, we settled rather quickly on Laurel -- feminine with a forest and flower image, yet it isn't fussy or too sweet.  It is old fashioned, but never became so popular that it seems stuck in a given time period.  It is almost 1000 in the popularity ranking.   Perfect.  The middle name was to be Janese.  That's my middle name, invented for me by my father on the day I was born, so I wanted to pass that along.  Brian kindly agreed.  (For years I swore I'd name a little girl "River" but then it completely didn't work with our last name!)

But we didn't have a girl.

It seemed that all the boys names I liked best were Biblical ones that Brian thought sounded too "Dukes of Hazard" or that simply didn't float his boat -- Luke, Jesse, Noah, Levi, and Samuel.  But as Brian and I talked, the name Elijah kept rising up in my mind.  Although not from our family, it is one that popped up in my grandparents' stories.  (I'll tell that one later.)  During my days working in a public library, I found a children's book that I absolutely loved with an Eli as the main character.  All the Places to Love  by Patricia Maclachlan and Michael Wimmer is set on a farm in rural Appalachia and focuses on family, nature, and a sense of place.

The more I thought about it, the more I loved the name.  An "Eli" sounds masculine, but not action hero macho.  I pictured an Eli as intelligent, dependable, likable, and not overbearing.  I love that the name looks a little like "hallelujah," a resoundingly grateful spiritual word.  I love that the first Elijah (the prophet) knew to find God within the quiet (1 Kings 19: 11-13).

There were two problems, however, with the name.  First, there was a television show with the exact same name we wanted to give to our child!  But it wasn't a bad show, the Eli character was a good person, and the program was short lived.  The real problem was that the name (on its own but also short for Elijah, Elias, and Elisha) is becoming pretty darn popular.  Personally, I only know of two Elijahs, but for 2008 it was in the Social Security top 25.  On a website that lists popular baby names by location city, it was number three in the hospital where our son was born!  Horrors!  

But something happens when you find the right baby name.  It's like falling in love -- partly an emotional reaction but partly a sensation of something simply clicking into place.  It almost felt as though he was already Elijah and we simply had to puzzle his name out using clues.  

We tried very hard to call our unborn baby only by a nickname -- "Jelly Tot" after tiny gumdrops we shared on our London honeymoon -- so we could officially decide on his name after we met him.  But late one night when I was still pregnant, the baby was jumping around and, before I could even catch myself, I put my hand on my belly and said, "Go to sleep, Eli."  I told Brian about it the next day, apologizing.  "That's okay," he assured me.  "I've been thinking of him as Eli too."  And when I first met my little guy face-to-face at last, he is definitely an Eli.  I'll just be holding my breath that there won't be a bunch of other boys named Eli in his kindergarten class.

Above:  An image from All the Places to Love by Patricia Maclachlan and Michael Wimmer.  NY:  HarperCollins, 1994.  Eli's grandmother loves the river best of all the places to love and uses it to send her grandson a message.

Almost a Year

The gold and brown days of November are quietly drifting away like leaves collecting under a tree.  Soon the red berried days of December will be here.

I've been reading through old journals and blog entries about my life a year ago.  At this time of the year in 2008, I was in an exhausted race to finish the first draft of my book before Eli came.  The manuscript was due to the press on December 1 and Eli was due December 3.  What a difference a year makes!  Because of the bad economy, UGA Press had major cutbacks and are moving slowly.  They couldn't get back to me for requested changes until June and we are still going back and forth about various issues.  As far as I know, all is still on track for eventual publication yet moving slower than molasses in winter.  Actually, I'm rather glad.  My life has been so focused on other things and my free time so limited that it would have been difficult to move much faster.  

And then there's Eli.  
It has been such a challenging year in many ways.  When I was a kid, on Mothers Day I always thanked my mom for all the dirty diapers she had to change.  Wasn't that the worst?  The thought makes me smile now.  As a mom, I don't mind dirty diapers.  No, the worst is when you think or know your baby is getting sick -- the worry and feeling so bad for their misery.  And then there's balancing my needs with Eli's.  I was single for a long time and married a man who is easy to get along with, so abruptly juggling the constant needs of a baby (even an easygoing one) took some work.  Incredibly rewarding!  I've learned so much.  But it has been tough at times to get used to carefully thinking through what I need and mindfully fitting those needs in with Eli's, constructing a puzzle that changes by the hour and sometimes by the minute.  But when we achieve a workable balance, a tangible peace settles on the household so sweet that it makes it all worthwhile.  The third big challenge?  Sleep deprivation.  Eli is a pretty darn good sleeper, so I have a lot to be grateful for, but he still has enough hiccups in his sleep patterns that I often get thrown off balance just when I get a healthy groove going.  When I haven't had enough sleep, it is really hard to keep everything in perspective and keep up with all I need to get done.

But when I think back on the year, it actually isn't the challenges I think of first.  I think of a million sweet, lovely moments with Eli.  And I've been tucking those moments away like a squirrel with autumn acorns.  I have to laugh when I sift through my computer files.  In the past twelve months I've logged an average of five to six blog entries per week and my journal for the year is almost a hundred typed, single-spaced pages.  Far from home, my side of the family, and my old friends, I turned to writing to hear my own voice in this period of great change.  Most of all, however, I've been eager to savor the details of this year.  Sometimes in the evening, after Eli is snoozing and the house is tidy again, I pick a page at random from my journal and read back on my baby's early days.  Or I click through photos (an average of 100 to 250 "keeper" images per month) or video clips.  Although there have been difficulties and major adjustments, this year has been the happiest of my life.  When I have "my guys" together, that family space is the sweetest space in the world.  But I also found a fun world to explore in Berkeley and the East Bay.  Instead of being cooped up in the house as I thought always happened with a small baby, I discovered wonderful friends and interesting places that have enriched my life and Eli's too.

Life is beautiful.

 

Tiny Apples

Just the right size for a little hand.

 

 

Happy Thanksgiving 2009!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

 

 

A year after moving across the country, I am thankful for faithful family and friends who reach out to make Eli a part of their lives even from afar.  And I am thankful for new friends who have made Eli's first year less stressful and more fun than I could have imagined.

  
Poor Eli, putting up with crazy photos dreamed up by Mama!  The big pumpkin shown above became the centerpiece for a baby play day and photo session.  A dozen babies got their photos taken inside!  Here are a few...

Ashley 

 

Pia

 

Chloe

 

Claire
 

Your questions answered...
1.  Yes, it is a real pumpkin.  We bought it at a patch in Petaluma.
2.  We don't know how much the pumpkin weighed.  It was too slick and heavy for one person to hold while stepping on a scale.  We guess around fifty pounds before carving.
3.  It actually didn't take long to carve.  Proportionally, large pumpkins don't really have much guts compared to little pumpkins.  
4.  Eli didn't mind being in the pumpkin at all.  I "practiced" beforehand by getting him to stand in a big bucket, so he was used to the idea of standing in a small space!  But the pumpkin was pretty cozy too.  Once the guts were out, I dried the inside well with a towel and then put a clean towel down for the babies to stand on. 
 5.  Yup, I toasted and ate the seeds.  Mmmm!  But I didn't cook the pumpkin.  Jack o' lantern type pumpkins don't taste nearly as good as pie/sugar pumpkins.
 6.  The photos were taken a few days before Halloween in my home "studio."  I put the pumpkin inside by our large picture window so it would have pretty light without need for a camera flash.  Using wood clamps, I hung a tablecloth on the bookshelves behind it for a backdrop.  I put another tablecloth around it. 
 7.  By the 31st, the pumpkin was starting to smell strong, so I hauled it outside with the help of Eli's wagon.  I carved a jack o' lantern face into it.  By the next day, the pumpkin had mold hanging out of its mouth.  Ewwww.

Baby Claire says, "Mmmmm.  Pumpkin!"

 

 

"Wait a minute!  This doesn't taste like pumpkin pie!"

You Are Now Free to Move About the Cabin...

Yesterday morning's nap time...
I settled Eli into his crib, tiptoed back down the stairs, and then stopped at the landing to listen.  Silence.  What popped into my head was...

"The captain has turned off the fasten seat belt sign.  You are now free to move about the cabin."

Because Eli fell asleep, I was suddenly free to move about the house.  

A few months ago, Eli started to take notice if I moved across the room or stepped out for a moment.  But if he was busy playing and nap time was not looming, I could get away with cooking (since the kitchen is next to the play room) or running upstairs to grab my computer.  If I reassured him I'd be right back or sang to let him know where I was, all was well.  

Perhaps it is just teething, but for almost two weeks now I can rarely be out of Eli's sight without protests or even tears.  Where is my easygoing Eli and what have you done with him?!  Right now, Eli would prefer to be in my arms all the time, but he'll settle for playing on the floor with me if I work hard to be jolly about it.  Still, if I take a few steps away or even just stand up to get a drink out of my water glass on the table, he protests and flings himself at me.  I've spent day after day with two little hands clinging to to my knees.

When you decide to become a parent, you know you're signing up not just for the fun moments, but for the challenging ones too.  All the baby books write about these phases and I know it is normal.  But it is absolutely exhausting.  There was one night this week when I kept watching the clock all evening, yearning for Eli's bedtime.  When my own bedtime came, I didn't want to go to sleep because time to myself seems so precious these days.  Suddenly I was the one who was teary.  "What if I'm not glad to see Eli in the morning?" I asked Brian.

I have been glad to see Eli every morning.   But I've learned an awful lot about balance in the last week and a half.  I love people and can be quite social, but deep down I am an introvert.  I need to periodically pull away to recharge.  Usually Eli fits comfortably within my introvert heart.  He’s such a cheerful little guy that his ever-present company rarely chafes.  But during this super-needy, super-fussy period, I feel myself pull away mentally at times, searching for the peace I need.  I swear Eli senses this and tries harder to get my full attention.  I'm learning to stop periodically and give it to him but am also learning how to take full advantage of those lovely nap time minutes so that I get what I need too.

Monday Eli fell asleep on the way home from a friend's house after several hours of clingy mayhem.  But instead of carrying him up to his crib, I put him in my bed and lay down beside him.  I love him deeply cranky or no, yet I knew I needed to smooth a frayed connection between us.  In the quiet of the afternoon with the sunshine spilling into the room and Eli curled up atop the down comforter, I found that peace.  I put my cheek against the top of Eli’s warm head and fell asleep beside him for a little while.  When I woke up again, I listened to the rise and fall of his breathing and stopped to really take him in – the dimpled hands, the chubby arms, the flowery-smelling hair, the squashy little nose.  By the time he woke up, I felt in rhythm with him again.  And he woke up happy, so maybe he felt it too.

 

I hope this phase passes quickly.  I hate to see Eli suddenly seem ill at ease with the world.
 

Where is the Hat?

On Friday morning I bundled Eli into his warm coat...

And after snapping a quick photo with Papa, I put him in his warm hat.  It's the same hat as in the photo below.

 

Then off we went on our morning walk through the neighborhood.  Up and down and up and down.  We have lots of hills, but I figured out a route that ensures the steepest hill is one we go down rather than up.

Except that on Friday, we got to the bottom of that hill and I discovered Eli's hat was gone.  Where was the hat?  Eli pulled it off and threw it out waaaaaaaaaay up at the top of the hill, of course.

Saturday Eli managed to do one better.  He pulled off his new Crazy Eights sock monkey hat and threw it away somewhere.  I backtracked but never found it.  RATS!  

But I think I've figured out a solution.  I bought a ribbon that has clips on both ends.  It is designed to allow you to make a bib out of a towel, but I think I'll clip one end to Eli's collar in the back and the other end to Eli's hat.  He may pull it off, but he can't toss it away.

Problem with Video

Sorry for the trouble with the video from the last post.  I think I have the problem fixed.

Artiste

On Saturday, Eli went to a baby birthday party at a children's play place.  They had an art room, so I thought, "Why not?"  Admittedly, Eli tried to eat a crayon.  And he seemed to like nosily banging the crayons better than actually drawing.  Still, as someone with two art degrees, I got a kick out of sharing a little of the creative process with my child.

Eli's first drawing is clearly reminiscent of Picasso's Blue Period.  And by employing such a bold linear quality, obviously Eli sought to express the cultural tension and complex ambiguity so prevalent in today's postmodern society.

(Ain't it lovely?)

TEETH! (Plural!)

Remember the photo of Eli from a couple of days ago where he's worried about being able to eat Thanksgiving supper with only one tooth?  Clever boy!  He solved that problem.  This morning a new little tooth broke the surface just next to the first one. Now he has two bottom teeth!

For eleven days Eli could brush his tooth.  Now for the rest of his life he'll be brushing his teeth.  (We hope even when he is 105 he'll have healthy teeth rather than dentures.)

Teeth are really hard to photograph.  I have a macro lens for close-ups, but it doesn't work quickly enough to get a good image of teeth in a wiggly baby.  Here's the best I could do while Eli was semi-still in his high chair...

 

Eli had a bad night on Friday, crying out several times in the wee hours.  He settled again after some baby pain reliever, so I guess it was the tooth.  In the morning, though, he had a big scratch on his nose.  His fingernails seemed short when we put him to bed, but I carefully cut them even shorter after the big scratch.  And don't worry about the other flecks on his face in the photo above...bits of whole wheat teething biscuit!

Now all Eli wants for Christmas is his two top front teeth!

Autumn: Brown