13 Months old

We are One Giant Birthday Celebration

I can hardly even practically believe it. After months of meticulous planning by all kinds of organized moms (needless to say, mine was not among them ), we held our joint, so collective it was almost Socialist "We are one" Koombaya June Baby Birthday Bash. There we were, me and 16 other kids my age from the neighborhood, each with our respective posses of people, taking over the park, permit and all.

And to top off the day, before I went to bed, I had a special-edition joint skype session with Memphis and Melbourne. I got to talk to all four of my grandparents at once (on different days at the same time!) to tell them about the big event. (They were so excited, they kept talking over each other... and I didn't know where to look first...)

Anyhoo, it was a picture-perfect, blue-sky summer day, and the scene captured so clearly the reason why everyone who lives in Park Slope loves it - and why those who don't, well, don't. The camaraderie, the sing-alongs, the 'we are one' birthday onesies, the cupcakes and party favors and photo shoots, all timed to a tee... It was enough to make some of our guests do the gag reflex (and believe me, they did).

As my mom explained it to me, for some folks, it may have been a little too much Type-A organizing for their liking. But for my mom and dad (neither of whom are stellar planners), experiencing it from the inside, it felt like a fabulous community, one giant tribe of warmth and support for a bunch of clueless moms and dads going on the same wild ride for the first time. It was like they all graduated together from a year-long course on Parenting 101 (clearly, they've got many more courses to go...). And all it took was a $75 fee to join some random listserve. And now, a year later - months since the breast pumps and hooter-hiders have been put away - here we are, moms and babes (and even dads), hanging out with one another by choice. Whoda thunk it? I call it a combo of good people kissed with good luck.

As for the party post-mortem, here's how it went down: As in past cases, our parents acted like complete asses at times (see video below), but overall, the energy was fabulous. Except for when it wasn't. (Again, below). I also snuck in a few swigs of my mom's mimosa, which was not half bad. More here....

One is Fun

Especially when I get to share it with my lady.

Reflections on a Year: Birthday Eve

At this very moment exactly a year ago, my mom was eating her Ciao Bella ice cream (coffee and chocolate flavors combined) on our living room couch, entertaining an old acquaintance from her nomadic backpacker days who'd blown into town. When she got off her rump to get more ice cream, my dad pointed out in some disbelief: "Uh, Mirmy?" And there it was. A massive water spot on the couch. That's when they had a feeling I was coming early.

And now it all makes so much sense. My mom says I just couldn't wait to enter the world. And that I was living up to my nickname - Mr. Curiosity - before I was even born, all too eager to see what was on the other side... I can't help it, it's just how I roll. And I must say, it's been a pretty amazing ride so far. While there's a lot of hype about the comforts of the womb, and our parents spend a lot of time trying to replicate that sensation (especially those first 3 months), I must tell you, now that I'm older and wiser, life outside is INfinitely cooler. It just is. There's just so much more to do and see - and it's just so much fun to learn and be and grow in the world. Especially when there are so many people showering me with accolades and adoration. What's not to like?

People should really relax about this whole aging thing. I mean, if being one year old is anything like these first 12 months, I can't wait for more!

11 Months Old!

Memphis!

Just when my body clock was reacclimating to North American time, I was off to Memphis - to see my grandpa, Bobelepie, Aunty Roosie and a whole lotta friends. More on this soon... I'm falling asleep at the keyboard...

Home again, home again

25 hours (tail winds), 8 bottles of milk, 4 jars of porridge and carrot mash, 9 diapers, and 2 outfit changes later, I'm home. And I slept even less on my journey home from Australia than I did on the way over. Who knew it was possible? 45 minutes of shut-eye from Melbourne to LAX. And I didn't cry a peep.

To avoid repeat episodes of sleeplessness on the way over, shortly after take-off my parents applied some homeopathic remedy (mildly alcoholic) to try to get me to doze off. When they saw no immediate results, they took it upon themselves to double the dosage. All it did was end up getting me drunk (fools), which was readily apparent by my slurred speech and unusually wobbly crawl at the back of the plane. My buzz must've made me less inhibited though, as I made a whole bunch of friends with fellow travelers. One woman was so taken by me, she took me right out of my mom's arms and started showing me off to her family and friends on the plane.

And then, the most remarkable thing happened. Amidst all the hullaballoo, chatting it up with her friends and family, my dummy (er, pacifier for the Americans) flew out of my mouth, and who was there to retrieve it and give it back to me? None other than my cougar friend Jessica! (see post immediately below) We had a fun, surprise reunion on the way home and exchanged tales from our respective holidays. She said she recognized the dummy from the plane ride over and was hoping it belonged to me. Smart girl.

Below, highlights from travel - including the lovely folks at Qantas and my reunion with Jessica.