Recently in Family Category

Well, that was awfully nice. It probably doesn’t sound like much of a holiday - seven days just sitting at home - but for Em and me, ‘twas Quality Time of the finest calibre.

The best part? On regular weekends, I’ve noticed that Emmie always tends to be more affectionate on Sundays. (Azure’s clued into the same thing.) After my absence during the workweek, I suppose, Saturdays seem a bit strange to her, like she doesn’t quite know what to make of the dude who’s suddenly loafing around the living room. By Sunday, though, she’s figured things out again. Point being, this vacation was like seven straight Sundays. I had Emelyn biting at my ankles and clambering up my knees pretty much the entire time. Good stuff!

And good timing, too: Last week we crossed the threshold between ‘Emelyn Can Walk’ (a few cautious steps here and there) to ‘Emelyn is Walking’ (such that she now prefers it to crawling, half the time). I’d a-been sore had I missed that, and so I’m tickled that I didn’t.

In lieu of a Club Med vacation, our big purchase for the week was a Hamax bike seat, now sitting stately on the back of Azure’s bike. You never know until you try, of course, but turns out that Emmie is a big fan. (She just loathes wearing a bike helmet, is all.)

We made three little trips over the course of the week - first a visit to the Green Dragon in Chesterton, where Emmie saw ducklings; then an outing through Grantchester Meadows to the Rupert Brooke, and finally, a simple ride through Coldham’s Commons, which is a series of fields not far from our house. Cambridgeshire’s geography may be flat and unapologetically pastoral, but it makes for some nice cycle paths.

We did make one trip further afield, to London. There we visited with Jen (who grew up on Waldron Island with Katrina) and Soumaila, and their 5 week old baby, Amara. As Amara is still a very wee and sleepy baby, Emelyn wasn’t all that interested in her, but she was quite captivated with the open/close button on Jen’s DVD player, and all the other blinkenlights near the TV.

The six of us also popped out to Corham’s Fields, just across the street, which is a really lovely children’s park near Russell Square. Emelyn hit another key developmental milestone there, namely, she chased pigeons for the first time in her life. IMHO, it ranked among the cutest things she’s done yet, given that she was toddling around in circles, squealing, with me holding one hand and the other one raised in the air, furiously signing ‘bird, bird, bird’.

That’s mostly it. There were some good pub lunches here and there, a very nice evening out at Cotto for Az and me (thanks, Helen!), and, of course, one big healthy dollop of lazy time for me to fritter away with various Nintendo/Apple/Nikon/Sony-branded electronics.

(* You’ve watched the videos, seen the pictures, read the blog - but did ya know that I also spent the week leading a ragtag band of soldiers in a tactically brilliant, if terribly time-consuming, campaign against the treacherous Black Hole Army? Or that Azure donated some of her own time to aid an Italian plumber and a sapient, anthropomorphic monarchist mushroom joined in a quest to rescue Princess Peach? We are busy, busy people!)

For those preferring the naturalistic filmmaking technique of cinéma vérité, here’s a five-minute-long and mostly-unedited video showing Emmie eating blueberries. And then eating more blueberries. The current working title is ‘blueberries’.

Not the most entertaining featurette, admittedly, but as they say in these parts, it does exactly what it says on the tin.

Seriously, though, the kid is crazy about blueberries.

I’ve been at home all week, having taken the week off work to simply spend some time with Azure and Emelyn. Lots to write about, later — but I’ve already stayed up too late compiling this video. Hi!

So Em’s started calling me at work, now. She’s long considered our cordless phone to be the very finest of teething toys, and if you leave it anywhere within reach, she’ll be stuffing it in her mouth moments later.

Of course, the beeping keypad on the aforementioned phone is just icing on the cake. Emmie’s definitely clued in to the fact that squeezing the buttons as she’s chewing on the top of the phone creates a pleasing series of tones, and she therefore works the phone much like one would play a clarinet or recorder - top part goes in the mouth, whilst the fingers busily press all the various keys.

A couple of weeks ago, Emelyn actually managed to call 1-1-2, which is the UK equivalent of 9-1-1, and you can bet they rang us right back. (They were understanding about the whole matter, and didn’t send a copper around, if only because they’d heard Azure in the background saying, “Who’s got the phone? Who’s got the phone?” before it hung up.)

We’ve tried to be careful about things since then, but yesterday at about three, I get an oddly-truncated call at the office that wasn’t anything but a few seconds of heavy breathing and strange slobbering noises. Caller ID indicated it was Azure. I think it’s enough to say that I felt quite confident that this was not, in fact, Azure. A subsequent call home confirmed this, a did the telling presence of drool on the ‘redial’ button.

All of which is a roundabout way of coming to this: Call me anytime, Emmie! Because I miss you dearly when I’m at work…

Not quite sure what to make of British summer. After an unbearably hot July, it feels like it’s been raining for most of August — walking down the streets of Cambridge, we’ve been smelling the familiar scent of firewood and burning coal. Great stuff, sure, just not very… August-y?

Emmie and I made the best of it this morning, at least — while Azure had a lie-in, I bundled The Boss into the backpack and the two of us jaunted up Mill Road to the ‘Nip In’ market where we grabbed a couple of fresh-from-the-oven croissants. (Emelyn passed on the pastries, having already eaten her peaches-and-apricot breakfast at home. High-fiber’s where it’s at for Emmie this weekend, at least, as she’s needed a little extra something to keep the traffic movin’, if you catch my drift.)

By the time we got home it was 8:45, and time for morning nap. We read a few Oliver Jeffers books, first — I’m a big fan of ‘Lost and Found’, while Em’s mum really likes ‘How To Catch a Star’. Emelyn, of course, is nuts about almost any printed material, so she was an easy audience, and happily turned all the pages and pointed out the protagonists in every picture.

Our Sunday afternoon was equally mellow. The three of us went to the children’s section at Border’s again, since it’s pretty much Emelyn’s favorite hangout. (Emelyn’s big discovery there this time was a plush doll of Beaker, the Muppet.) And then we very briefly went to Cafe Nero, though Emelyn started getting reeeeally fussy, such that our coffee order got changed to ‘take away’ by the time we hit the register. (Emmie apparently hates the sound of milk being steamed.)

Anyhow, if you’re keen, check out the latest video. Emelyn’s always been obsessed with the camera, but we just started realizing the fun you can have by flipping the LCD viewfinder around so it faces out, like the lens. (Basically, you can see her reaction as she sees herself on the screen. Which is pretty adorable, if I do say so meself.)

Emelyn took eight steps at Border’s yesterday. Seeing all the books and small people makes her pretty happy, you see, and she wound up distracted enough to actually walk a few feet before suddenly remembering that she can’t walk. We never got a repeat performance, but Az and I were plenty proud, nonetheless.

Emmie is also saying ‘Bobo’, which is one of three words used in her favorite story (‘Hug’, by Jez Alborough). I’m admittedly disappointed that a fictional chimpanzee took priority over ‘Daddy’, but Bobo’s also around the house more. And, as anybody who’s read the book will tell you, Bobo could do with a little attention, anyways.

By the way — the most adorable thing in the world is to see Emelyn make the sign for ‘baby’. Now ‘baby’ is supposed to be a cradle-like thing you do with your arms, but Emmie’s version looks more like the ‘I love you’ sign in ASL, and when I go out on a limb and say it’s the Most Adorable Thing In The World, I’m being totally serious. Biased and unobjective, maybe, but still quite serious.

Auntie is gone, and it’s difficult to say who misses her the most: Emmie (because she adores Auntie), Azure (because sis made life easy for four weeks), or myself (because Az and I got to run out the door whenever we felt like it, whoohoo!).

Ah well. There’s a million little things to report. Emmie’s signing ‘bird’ all the time, though she’s admittedly liberal with its usage (along with the bird in her picture book, she uses it to mean ‘outside’ and ‘tree’, too). She also signs for ‘ball’ and ‘all done’, and I’m betting her next one will be ‘PowerBook G4’.

Emmie increasingly stands on her own, hands-free, but only if she doesn’t actually think about it. (It’s all reminiscent of old Looney Tunes cartoons, where Wile E. Coyote goes running off a cliff, but never actually drops until he looks down.) Emelyn will also walk short distances with a minimally-supportive hand-hold, although the moment she figures out you’re actually encouraging her to walk a bit, she sits down in protest. She’s got her own schedule for this stuff…

Emelyn is also turning mischievous - she can turn on the TV, open a laptop latch (rather impressive, that), and she won’t stop reaching for door handles, either. We’ve started re-arranging some of the furniture and toys into a kind of Victor-Hugo-inspired barricade, in response, and that keeps her from most of the consumer electronics. Baby gates are on order, too.

Well, maybe that isn’t a million things, after all. What to say? Life here just seems to be trucking along like normal; can’t really complain.

Every summer, they throw a little fete at the Rosie Maternity ward. We discovered this a year ago, because the party kicked off while Azure was checking into the hospital. I was keen to spend a few pounds on the Tombola that day, mostly because I didn’t know what a Tombola was, and partly because proceeds went to support the Special Care Baby unit. (That had sounded like a good enough cause, then. Now we know it is.)

The ‘Premrose Fete’ is a tiny affair, really, but with a huge heart. You can toss coins at a litre of whisky, six goes a pound, nearest coin wins. Or you can throw wet sponges at one of the doctors volunteering to be a target. Better still, there’s a coffee table where you can buy a whole cake for four pounds, and right behind it you’ll find a few old ladies sitting around and pretending (poorly, at that) to be uninterested in just which of their cakes you’re eyeing. There’s a BBQ, of course, plus a little tent selling Pimm’s, and a Lucky Dip with prizes for children and the Tambola for the adults.

Anyhow, Emelyn turns 1 this week. And so it came to mind that maybe it was time for us to go back to the little party, too.

Suffice to say that Azure’s coin landed close enough to the whisky bottle that they took down her name, Jami won herself a packet of Christmas incense at the Tombola, and I bought an ‘Irish Brack loaf’ from a very pleased old lady. Then there were some steel drum players, who pretty much appeared from nowhere, and Emelyn smiled and started to clap.

My thoughts exactly, kiddo.

Sometimes you get one of those days so good, it reminds you to be grateful for all the others. Case in point: last Sunday, when Azure, Jami, Emmie and I set down for a picnic on Jesus Green, near the Cam. Now, say what you will about British weather (and I’ve said plenty) but when it’s good, it’s good — and Sunday was downright great.

There’s not much story to tell, really. We carved our way through a bunch of picnic goodies, watched the world go by, and played around with the videocamera — here’s a little footage.

Look, I’m sure there’s a funny way to set this up, a way to craft a clever tale which reserves the punchline for the very end, and transforms this little narrative into a ripping yarn.

But since this post is overdue enough as is, let’s just out with the truth, shall we?

Last week, I went to a David Hasselhoff concert in Germany.

No, I mean, seriously, I went running to a David Hasselhoff concert. Last week. In Berlin. Germany.

And now that that’s out of the way, let me try to set it all up:

Az, Em, and I have been bouncing from place to place the last coupla weeks. The ladies went from Indianapolis straight to LA; I returned for a few crazy days back in Cambridge (typically hectic workweek, with a jet-lag twist) then jetted off to Berlin for a week for the Google European Sales Conference.

Suffice to say my corporate overlords are just as post-ironic as any hipster out there; somebody high up thought it would be funny to fly David Hasselhoff over to sing to our company party for a few hours.

I was actually a few blocks away when The Hoff started his set - I’d snuck out to sightsee and visit the Reichstag, since it was around the corner - but I went running once I realized what was going on. Alas, that means I wasn’t standing close enough to be in the video. But I was there.

Anyhow, we’re still moving around. Right now, the three of us are together in Palo Alto, as I’m spending the week at the Googleplex. The ladies joined me at work for breakfast this morning at the No-Name-CafĂ©. Emmie had some whole-wheat pancake, organic peach, and scrambled eggs, while I had a blueberry smoothie, kombucha tea, scrambled eggs, and part of Azure’s breakfast burrito. Good times.

Sometimes, the journey is not the reward. Take, for instance, the 30-or-40-odd hour trek that Azure and I endured getting from Indianapolis to L.A. and London (respectively). We woke up at 5am (Chicago time) only to leave at 1am - Az and Em flew off a couple of hours before I did, but only after enduring a 3-hour wait on the Tarmac. I can only imagine.

As for me, I landed at LHR around 2pm local time, and am just now catching the 7:45 train home. Very. Long. Day.

Cutest bit was this: right after limping into work, I discovered that I was scheduled to interview a job candidate that very minute. I managed to run into the restroom to brush my teeth, at least, but I can still only imagine what the poor fellow thought of my employer after his interview. (My god, they’re all zombies! Catatonic! Crazy!)

Anyways, if the journey wasn’t so rewarding this time ‘round, the destination certainly was: our Memorial Day weekend turned out to be a great chance to meet extended family and glimpse parts of the country I’d never before visited. Indianapolis was unexpectedly verdant and green, and the local’s friendliness a contrast to the British reserve. I also managed to take in (A) a White Castle, (B) a live-bait vending machine, and (C) a sunny morning in a local laundromat that offered the best people-watching that side of the Atlantic.

Better still, we did stuff with Emelyn that we’ve never had a chance to do in the UK, like go to a big coffee shop for early-morning breakfast. (Naugahyde booths are one of the things about America that I miss most dearly; I don’t care if it’s a Denny’s or Cocos or a Bob Evan’s, a real-deal coffee-shop is one thing Euros just can’t seem to duplicate.)

Oh, and we can now tick one very minor item off the “not-a-real-American-baby-til-you-do-this” list: Emelyn finally got to try Cheerios, pawing them off the table into her mouth in her not-even-slightly-dextrous way.

It was never going to be easy, but the last couple days featured less sleep and more contingency planning than I’d ever expected. Our flight from Heathrow to O’Hare wasn’t much fun, but at least it got off the ground, which is more than can be said for the (canceled) jump from O’Hare to Indianapolis. And yet that’s still more than could be said for the ‘free shuttle’ that was supposed to drive us to a Chicago airport hotel but never showed, supposedly being “en route” for hours…

Anyhow, we’re here now, having rolled into Indianapolis in a rental Hyundai, a mere 24 hours behind schedule. Lots of family present to greet us on arrival.

Plus, I should note that traveler’s luck can go both ways: Yesterday, Em started shrieking like crazy in the backseat, obviously in need of an immediate diaper change, and what should Dad discover but, lo! - the ‘World’s Largest Fireworks Superstore’ sitting at the next offramp.

For the record — holding a happy, babbling baby in one arm, and clutching a pack of bottle rockets in the other is a mighty fine feeling.

Happy Memorial Day!

I graduated from Cambridge last weekend. It’s a little after the fact, now — I’ve been back at work for nine months, along with the rest of my class, so the whole affair wound up feeling more like a reunion than a mortarboard-tossing end-of-school finalĂ©. Still fun, though.

Sure, I have my small grumbles about JBS and Cambridge, but one thing I can’t begrudge the University is its absolute lock on pomp and circumstance — with nearly 800 years of graduation ceremonies under its belt, Cambridge gets away with some wacky stuff in the name of tradition.

Like, the graduation ceremony is still entirely in Latin. Which is a good thing, since it precludes the usual guest-celebrity commencement speech. (Boooring.) Instead, they get right down to the business of conferring degrees. (Actually, there’s one weird bit, first, where the praelector introduces the college, bowing low and doffing his hat at unpredictable intervals. Hadn’t seen anything like that before…)

And this, then, is how the actual degree is conferred: first, the praelector stretches out his fingers, and four students each grab a digit. Then, he gives a bit of a spiel about the degree, which in our case was rather funny, inasmuch the praelector couldn’t remember how to say ‘MBA’ in Latin. After an awkward pause, he mentioned something about Maestrum Negozium et Powerpointium which sounded convincing, and then in turn, we each kneeled on a small pillow in front of Magdalene’s Master, who would clasp our raised hands while giving us his own little benediction.

By the time I was down on the pillow, I half-expected somebody would pull out a sword and tap my shoulders, too, but in truth, you just get up, make a little bow, and head on out of the Senate House. I was actually quite joyous in the moment — but that had mostly to do with the fact that I didn’t trip over my gown when kneeling or getting up. It’s a small but real risk, apparently, and they warn you about it.

Anyhow, I did fine. Can’t entirely say the same thing about Emelyn — though I will proudly say she did an admirable job of keeping quiet for the first 30 students or so. She sat stately on Azure’s lap, flipping the pages of a board books, but after 15 minutes or so, she obviously felt it was time for a little dialogue with her book, instead. Now, it’s gravely quiet in the Senate House — far quieter than we’d anticipated — so Az made the call and had our babbling baby whisked outside by Tante Hannelore, in the nick of time. So it was all good.

In short: a fine weekend. We took Mom & Dad and the Hearsts over to Ely, too, where there’s a nice cathedral and some good chippies. Looking back, we took fewer photos than we should’ve, but hey, we were having a good time.

Last week, for the record, was one I never quite got the hang of.

First, Monday was a holiday in Europe, which sounds dandy, but then I was fool enough to peek at my Blackberry the night before; that unwise move kicked off a firedrill featuring poorly-translated press releases and a Spanish telecoms operator (my former employer, natch). Tuesday was no better; it was a 5:45 wake-up to get to Heathrow, to spend the day in Munich, where I visited the airport, a freeway, and an office building.

Sure, there was some travel excitement — I came within 5 minutes of missing the last plane out, and this after (and I do not exaggerate, here, swear) our Taxi-fahrer clocked 190kph/118mph getting us to the airport. Got home right before midnight, so it was cold Wheetabix for din-din.

No time for shopping, obviously, but I brought home a wonderful souvenir, regardless: my left ear has been plugged for six days now. [Aargh.]

Anyhow, that’s just the start of things. But much as I just enjoyed venting, right there, I’ve got no right to complain — Azure and Emelyn were both down with fevers over the weekend. Emelyn’s fought one virus or another since Easter, it seems, and I’m sure nothing’s easier than taking care of a sick baby than when you’re sick and alone, yourself. So a rough week all ‘round.

Better, then, to truncate this post, and point to some videos instead. Here’s our triumvirate two weeks ago, outside the Rupert Brooke pub in Grantchester. It’s Emmie’s first time on grass, not to mention her first attempts at describing her own height… ah, good times.

It was a stay-at-home weekend, as both Azure and Emelyn have a cough-and-cold combo that’s been pretty rough. (Emmie had some sniffles in Rome, but the doctors think she caught another virus right after, and it’s been way worse the second time around.) Both were running fevers earlier in the weekend, and Azure had to get up throughout the night to feed Emmie, who’s eating in smaller doses. Not easy.

On a happier note, staying in gave me a chance to go through the hour of tape we shot in Rome, and make a 6-minute movie out of it. I’m starting to understand why family home videos are so maligned- I dumped 13 gigabytes of footage onto Azure’s Powerbook, and we still had a hard time finding clips where the shaky camera didn’t leave the viewer seasick, or where my own bubbling, asinine commentary managed to achieve the same effect.

Anyhoo. Here’s the goods:

Alrighty, then. Pulling into King’s Cross as I type; so ends the nice part of Monday morning. I strongly suspect this’ll be another Week Of Pain at work - so see you Saturday!