Sunday, June 11, 2006
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
The Race is on!
Just yesterday Sofi began to make very clear word sounds with some sort of intention. Alot of “Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba,” and “Ma ma ma ma ma ma ma ma.” It's completely adorable and brings tears to our eyes every time. But while Sofi is fighting the war against her tongue to make words we can understand, there is another war being waged in the background.
The first word war. (WWI for you vets)
That's right. The battle has begun. Like boxing coaches, or acting coaches, Dana and I each have Sofi in our respective corners, both teaching her to say a word, but it's not the same word. Oh no. We are each teaching her a word so powerful that when said, will make a grown man or woman jump out of bed from the most solid of sleeps to do anything and everything the speaker of these magical words utters. The words are Ima (mommy) and Daddy (Aba). Easy to learn. Impossible to ignore.
These two words are magical keys that unlock doors we didn't even know existed. Until now, communication with Sofi has been, for the most part, a one way street with the occasional acknowlegement on her part in the form of a smile, a laugh or an uncontrolled screech. But once she is armed with one or both of these words the rules of the game will change forever.
For the past six months, Dana has been doing most of the hard work during the long night while I dream and drool obliviously next to her, like sleeping on the edge of a volcano that is erupting, unaware of the chaos she has been enduring in the name of motherhood. Granted, I am often on the 10pm to midnight shift, which is usually uneventful, and on the other end of the night for the 5:15am to 7am session until Dana wakes up from her beauty sleep of 3 or 4 non-consecutive hours––if she's lucky. So, the moment Sofi masters the word 'Daddy' I will be forever on call all through the night ready to come to the rescue of my little squishy, like a superhero who hears the faint cry of someone in peril miles away.
But until then, I'll be sleeping like a baby, drool and all.
Oh, and if by some chance she learns to say 'Ima' first, I don't even want to know the consequences of that. I might have to legally change my name to 'Ima' so that Dana can get a solid nights sleep.
The first word war. (WWI for you vets)
That's right. The battle has begun. Like boxing coaches, or acting coaches, Dana and I each have Sofi in our respective corners, both teaching her to say a word, but it's not the same word. Oh no. We are each teaching her a word so powerful that when said, will make a grown man or woman jump out of bed from the most solid of sleeps to do anything and everything the speaker of these magical words utters. The words are Ima (mommy) and Daddy (Aba). Easy to learn. Impossible to ignore.
These two words are magical keys that unlock doors we didn't even know existed. Until now, communication with Sofi has been, for the most part, a one way street with the occasional acknowlegement on her part in the form of a smile, a laugh or an uncontrolled screech. But once she is armed with one or both of these words the rules of the game will change forever.
For the past six months, Dana has been doing most of the hard work during the long night while I dream and drool obliviously next to her, like sleeping on the edge of a volcano that is erupting, unaware of the chaos she has been enduring in the name of motherhood. Granted, I am often on the 10pm to midnight shift, which is usually uneventful, and on the other end of the night for the 5:15am to 7am session until Dana wakes up from her beauty sleep of 3 or 4 non-consecutive hours––if she's lucky. So, the moment Sofi masters the word 'Daddy' I will be forever on call all through the night ready to come to the rescue of my little squishy, like a superhero who hears the faint cry of someone in peril miles away.
But until then, I'll be sleeping like a baby, drool and all.
Oh, and if by some chance she learns to say 'Ima' first, I don't even want to know the consequences of that. I might have to legally change my name to 'Ima' so that Dana can get a solid nights sleep.
Friday, March 24, 2006
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Fluid by Design
Every seven years or so, every single cell in our bodies is replenished. We are liquid by design. A flowing river of flesh and blood. We are poster-children for change .
What does this mean for us? It's proof that to hold on too firmly to anything that is your physical makeup is the same as grabbing a handful of water. Try it next time you're at the ocean, or in the bath. With a strong hand, reach down to grab a fistfull of water. Hmmm. It seems that the harder you squeeze, the faster the water escapes your grip.
Now try again, but this time with a cupped, open hand. Gently lift the water. Notice how the water peacefully remains in this almost effortless position. Now think about the firmness of your mental grip on your own identity, and the identity of others in your life, family, friends, acquaintences or enemy. Keep this in mind always.
This photo Dana took of Sofi and I was a happy accident (credit due to TV Painter Bob Ross here) that shows how fast she's changing before our eyes, and in turn, how fast we all must have changed in front of our parents eyes.
Monday, February 13, 2006
Almost Five Months Old...
Sofi came with Kung Fu Action Grip™
Don't ask me where the time has gone. It's a mystery. It just keeps pumping out of the great faucet in the sky. I just wish for a minute that we were able to simply turn the knob––you know it would have one of those grimy phony chrystal handles on it like they do in the YMCA––and shut it off for a while. Take a look around you. Check out your scene and really appreciate what you've got right next to you. In this modern world we're generally so focused on what we haven't got. A bigger house. A nicer car. A fancier cat. This or that person's glamorous lifestyle. And I think it's sad that it's so easy to exist anywhere but in the present moment. If you're like me, you spend half of each day worrying about yesterday, and the other half worrying about tomorrow. If you're a skilled mathmetician, you're realize that it leaves nothing left to appreciate the most important part of it all. The Now. Yesterday's tomorrow, Tomorrow's yesterday.
Oh. And if you haven't figured it out yet, I just finished reading "The Power of Now" by Eckhart Tolle. That's right. I'm not ashamed to start preaching right away something I only read a day ago... That's the way things work, only most of the time people wouldn't admit it. Call me honest. Call me a fool. I don't care. I'm tired.
This picture made me think of Bjørk.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
The Face Tells a Story (Part I)
Well. We're back in the states after what felt like a month-long trip, and before I go into detail I'll ask you to take a good look at Sofia's face in the photo above. Ok, now what do you think is going through her head at that moment? I'll tell you. It's a single word, one syllable: "Why?"
That's correct. "Why?" As in, "Why did you two drag me down to Central America when I wasn't feeling so well?"
Hmm. That's an excellent question Sofia. We'll need to think about that one a while. Can we give you an answer when you're, say, 30 years old? Great, thanks.
If you haven't heard already, or were not there to experience it first hand I will try to paint a picture of our tropical getaway down in Panama. Before we left, we brought Sofi to the pediatrician who, after checking her, reassured us there was nothing to worry about and that should she come down with a fever to take her to the doctor on the island. But at this point, she had mild congestion and no signs of an immenent fever. So we were relieved to hear exactly what we were hoping to hear. That our vacation would still happen. Though I must admit there was a moment during the doctor visit during which I hoped he would tell us "Look, you two are smart... just stay home, give up the dream of this vacation and do what's best for the little one... there's always next year." But that thought was quickly silenced by another voice in my head, this time it was me floating in a pool with a sweet tan, beverage in hand, and a cool breeze in my face saying "Whatever man...you're going to give this up... look at this place.. it's paradise!" (takes sip from drink as a monkey knuckles over to poolside with a fresh drink) Damn, he's right. I mean, I'm right. I mean, we're right. So we lugged our luggage because that's where the word comes from anyway and we always like to do the proper thing.
The flight from Newark to Panma City (Tocumen Aeropuerto):
...to be continued
Saturday, December 10, 2005
She's growing fast.
Soon she'll be talking and telling us stories. (let me know if you can't view the movies. Tell me what type of computer you are using, Mac or PC, and what browser)
Sofi laughs as daddy hits her buddy Miles with a pillow. She has the evil streak in her.. just like her daddy.
This is Sofi's new friend Annie from Warwick. The had a little hand holding session that was really cute.
Sofi laughs as daddy hits her buddy Miles with a pillow. She has the evil streak in her.. just like her daddy.
This is Sofi's new friend Annie from Warwick. The had a little hand holding session that was really cute.
Monday, December 05, 2005
Drawing
Drew this one a few weeks ago.. just finally got around to scanning it. I think it captures something of Sofi here.
Short on time, so I'll lay off the words this morning. There's a dusting of snow out every window.. it's around 30 degrees farenheit.. the car windows wouldn't open due to ice. The cats might be totally frozen out there. Then again, the little killers are probably busy tracking something down for the kill. They usually bring home something new every other day or so, rabbits, squirrels, mice, birds of all sizes, chipmunks too. I'm waiting for the day when I open the front door to get the mail and I see one of the neighbors kids on our doorstep that Cassius or Francis dragged over. Or a snowman. You pick.
Friday, December 02, 2005
The Secret to Getting What You Want
Just yesterday Sofi used her hand to reach out and hit something and, after seeing what the result was, she did it a few times after that with big smiles. For some of you reading this it might not seem like a big deal. But for Dana and I it is a crucial step for Sofia on the path of development that is cause for celebration––and yes, a bit of bragging.
When we are infants we are whole (notice I said 'we' as it's easy to detach from our own beginnings and only recently am I making the connection myself). We are at unity with the world and everything in it, our sense of self is no different from our sense of 'other' or 'else.' For infants, everything is happening to them. Light, sound, touch, a car driving by, a plane over head. It is quite the opposite of the way we experience the world as adults with our world diced up and arranged into neat categories with value judements attached to each one like product descriptions in a mail order catalog. According to many philosophers and theologians, my favorite Alan Watts our problems are rooted in the misperception that we are separate from our environment, that there is a 'me' and an 'everything else' category.
But back to the thread of this posting, before I go into orbit. Watching Sofi focus intently on something dangling before her (one of those plush mobiles) has been an enlightening experience for us. In order for her to finally reach out to touch the thing, days and days of preparation needed to have taken place. She began with simply becoming aware that there is, in fact, a thing hanging in front of her face. Next, after mulling this over for a while, realized that she too can touch this thing to make it move like we do. Major problem: she doesn't realize she has the use of her arms. Until this point she's been on autopilot, 'flying the invisible stunt kite," as if she was controlling two strings, one in each hand making it twist and dive above her.
So we keep an eye on her as she focuses all her powers of concentration on this one object hanging before her. So intense a moment that she begins to bubble at the mouth, her tongue darting in and out, a sign of things to come (so many kids use their tongue to guide their hands when doing things like coloring and drawing... I used to use my tongue on road trips when I was a boy to skip over the cracks in the highway.. when one came close to the front of the car.. I'd snap my tongue to the roof of my mouth and when I sensed we'd made it over.. tongue would drop back down) So a few days of this intense focusing on the hanging stuffed elephant and suddenly her left arm responds to the desire to reach out and touch it. I wouldn't call it control, but there's no doubt that she hit this thing a few times, smiling after each turn, aware that she had made a giant step.
Now, of course I don't write about any old thing. You're thinking: "What's the lesson here, Tommy Boy?" (To be honest with myself, I have to admit that no one is asking that and it's only me.... so be it.)
What I learned from watching this play out is that in life, you cannot achieve something if you do not truly and whole-heartedly desire it. Some of us complain over and over: "I don't know why I didn't get that job," or "I wanted to go to Europe, but I just never really had the money," or "I wanted to go to the moon with the Apollo, but there were no more seats available." But––and it's taken me until thirty-one years of age to truly absorb this–– they didn't want it bad enough. Simple. I want to play music, make an album, play shows all over the world, be interviewed on radio shows... but how bad do I want it?
It's something to think about, for all of us. How bad do you want to touch the dream that is dangling before your face like a carrot on a string? If the answer is "With all my heart and soul, Tom" then god bless you, go out and grab it before it's too late.
I'm right behind you.
When we are infants we are whole (notice I said 'we' as it's easy to detach from our own beginnings and only recently am I making the connection myself). We are at unity with the world and everything in it, our sense of self is no different from our sense of 'other' or 'else.' For infants, everything is happening to them. Light, sound, touch, a car driving by, a plane over head. It is quite the opposite of the way we experience the world as adults with our world diced up and arranged into neat categories with value judements attached to each one like product descriptions in a mail order catalog. According to many philosophers and theologians, my favorite Alan Watts our problems are rooted in the misperception that we are separate from our environment, that there is a 'me' and an 'everything else' category.
But back to the thread of this posting, before I go into orbit. Watching Sofi focus intently on something dangling before her (one of those plush mobiles) has been an enlightening experience for us. In order for her to finally reach out to touch the thing, days and days of preparation needed to have taken place. She began with simply becoming aware that there is, in fact, a thing hanging in front of her face. Next, after mulling this over for a while, realized that she too can touch this thing to make it move like we do. Major problem: she doesn't realize she has the use of her arms. Until this point she's been on autopilot, 'flying the invisible stunt kite," as if she was controlling two strings, one in each hand making it twist and dive above her.
So we keep an eye on her as she focuses all her powers of concentration on this one object hanging before her. So intense a moment that she begins to bubble at the mouth, her tongue darting in and out, a sign of things to come (so many kids use their tongue to guide their hands when doing things like coloring and drawing... I used to use my tongue on road trips when I was a boy to skip over the cracks in the highway.. when one came close to the front of the car.. I'd snap my tongue to the roof of my mouth and when I sensed we'd made it over.. tongue would drop back down) So a few days of this intense focusing on the hanging stuffed elephant and suddenly her left arm responds to the desire to reach out and touch it. I wouldn't call it control, but there's no doubt that she hit this thing a few times, smiling after each turn, aware that she had made a giant step.
Now, of course I don't write about any old thing. You're thinking: "What's the lesson here, Tommy Boy?" (To be honest with myself, I have to admit that no one is asking that and it's only me.... so be it.)
What I learned from watching this play out is that in life, you cannot achieve something if you do not truly and whole-heartedly desire it. Some of us complain over and over: "I don't know why I didn't get that job," or "I wanted to go to Europe, but I just never really had the money," or "I wanted to go to the moon with the Apollo, but there were no more seats available." But––and it's taken me until thirty-one years of age to truly absorb this–– they didn't want it bad enough. Simple. I want to play music, make an album, play shows all over the world, be interviewed on radio shows... but how bad do I want it?
It's something to think about, for all of us. How bad do you want to touch the dream that is dangling before your face like a carrot on a string? If the answer is "With all my heart and soul, Tom" then god bless you, go out and grab it before it's too late.
I'm right behind you.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Two Month Mile Marker
We passed the two month mark and I can't get over how much she's changed in such a short while. Sofi now has an awareness of her surroundings and is beginning to notice her hands. It's hysterical to watch her as she follows her own hand as if it were not connected to her body thinking "what the heck was that?" She melts our hearts all day and night with her attempts at making sounds as she discovers her little voice. It's only a matter of time before she's yapping away, making up stories of her own.
Saturday, October 22, 2005
1 Month Mile-Marker
Yesterday our little Sofi hit the one month mile marker. That's thirty little days in this world that a majority of us take for granted, due to our various routines that we all inevitably end up in––notwithstanding the strong of heart and mind who refuse to get sucked into the whirlpool of the rat race. But, like parenthood, it's all about sriking a balance. A balance between home life and work life; between sleep and wakefulness; between our youth and our adulthood; between selfishness and magnanimity; between the without and the within.
Watching Sofia change so rapidly before our eyes forces me to consider the changes that I too am most likely going through, that Dana is going through––or rather changes that are taking shape in us, rather than us going through them. As Sofi's facial features become more defined from the generic mask of infancy she wore when she arrived, I notice things about myself that no one else can see that are becoming more defined, things like my sense of self, and sense of a greater force that holds everything together with invisible thread. While Sofia's little body is aclimating itself to life on earth as a human being for the first time, Dana and I are adjusting our minds and spirits to life on earth as complete human beings, and even for a life beyond the horizon of our powerful yet limited view of what it means to be alive.
Parenthood is a religion unto itself. No saints. No prophets (although it can be argued that each child is prophet sent to re-teach us how to love unconditionally) No mantras, creeds, no punishments. Only lessons. Only experiences. Parenthood is the great democracy, for there is no monarch on a throne. Each house is it's own kingdom. Each it's own judicial system. Each set of parents playing God, creating life, guiding and shaping life, all with the innate knowledge imprinted in the very fibre of our composition. Boil the ages down, and this is all there ever was, or ever will be. For every king comes from a woman and a man. Every soldier comes from a woman and a man. Every woman comes from a woman and a man. Every great revolutionary invention found it's birth by a woman and a man at some finite point in history, coming together––even if for a moment–– like hydrogen and oxygen to form something new, something bigger than themselves. Water where there was only air. Life where there was none before.
I can't help but think how, most things in life that we posess need to be purchesed, borrowed, taken or found. If one wants something from far away, it must be shipped to one's door. But a child. It comes from far away, for sure, but it comes from within. At one moment, there are two living in a house. A moment later... three. There need not be another soul in the house––although it's recommended to have a qualified individual.. say.. a Doctor or Doula––for a new life to be.
That is the miracle.
Watching Sofia change so rapidly before our eyes forces me to consider the changes that I too am most likely going through, that Dana is going through––or rather changes that are taking shape in us, rather than us going through them. As Sofi's facial features become more defined from the generic mask of infancy she wore when she arrived, I notice things about myself that no one else can see that are becoming more defined, things like my sense of self, and sense of a greater force that holds everything together with invisible thread. While Sofia's little body is aclimating itself to life on earth as a human being for the first time, Dana and I are adjusting our minds and spirits to life on earth as complete human beings, and even for a life beyond the horizon of our powerful yet limited view of what it means to be alive.
Parenthood is a religion unto itself. No saints. No prophets (although it can be argued that each child is prophet sent to re-teach us how to love unconditionally) No mantras, creeds, no punishments. Only lessons. Only experiences. Parenthood is the great democracy, for there is no monarch on a throne. Each house is it's own kingdom. Each it's own judicial system. Each set of parents playing God, creating life, guiding and shaping life, all with the innate knowledge imprinted in the very fibre of our composition. Boil the ages down, and this is all there ever was, or ever will be. For every king comes from a woman and a man. Every soldier comes from a woman and a man. Every woman comes from a woman and a man. Every great revolutionary invention found it's birth by a woman and a man at some finite point in history, coming together––even if for a moment–– like hydrogen and oxygen to form something new, something bigger than themselves. Water where there was only air. Life where there was none before.
I can't help but think how, most things in life that we posess need to be purchesed, borrowed, taken or found. If one wants something from far away, it must be shipped to one's door. But a child. It comes from far away, for sure, but it comes from within. At one moment, there are two living in a house. A moment later... three. There need not be another soul in the house––although it's recommended to have a qualified individual.. say.. a Doctor or Doula––for a new life to be.
That is the miracle.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Sunday, October 02, 2005
Heartbreaking...
Sofi likes to scratch her face.. so she needs to wear these mittens. We're heading out the door.. just wanted to get this pic up on the page.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Time-lapse Living
Watching Sofi's face change reminds me of time-lapse film footage of weather patterns, or of a building coming together––while our lives have virtually stopped, the hands on our clocks reluctant to move to their next tickmark, our little beauty is transforming at an incredible pace. Her head is taking shape, no longer cone-shaped, time is now bringing her tiny features into contrast, hinting at the beautiful woman she will someday be.
Here's a link to a photo album that will be updated regularly...
http://www.nyclabs.com/blog/sofi/sofi.html
Here's a link to a photo album that will be updated regularly...
http://www.nyclabs.com/blog/sofi/sofi.html
Monday, September 26, 2005
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Let the days of one-handed typing begin!
Wow. For fear of not doing justice to the miracle of life, I am not going to write much (yet). But for now, meet our little Sofia (sofi) born Friday, September 23, 2005 to two of the happiest people in the world. Thank you Dr. Solomon, you were amazing... and thank you Tami for being a tireless, supportive guide for Dana. It takes a long time to write with a little package in one arm––you weren't kidding Paul!
Friday, September 23, 2005
She's gone into labor!
Been timing contractions since 1:30am... it's 5:45am now... we're about
4-5 minutes betw contractions.... this looks like it!
We'll let everyone know when it's for sure...
Friday, September 16, 2005
As you can see...I'm not nervous at all.
I've got it all under control. We went to our doctor yesterday and after poking around, she informed us that Dana has begun to dilate 1.5 cm so far. It's beginning, and I repeat... I am not nervous, despite what the photo might imply. It's really starting to happen and I've got butterflies in my stomach like you wouldn't believe. We're hoping it's tonight. But it could be Saturday, or Sunday... man I can't stand this waiting anymore. We'll let everyone know what's going on for sure.
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