Her Majesty

[to be posted on March 8th but I can't wait that long]

Happy One Year Birthday, AP! A year ago, you made your grand entrance onto the world's stage. Back then, your claim to fame was your calm, your delicateness, and your shock of jet black, Gund-soft hair. You were oblivious to the jealous machinations of your older brother, the power of your hypnotic eyes, and the fact that you were wearing hand-me-down newborn clothes chosen from the baby boy section. Your growth and personality development since then have been staggering. Your talking skills are dwarfed by your singing skills (this is currently your favorite song) which, in turn, are dwarfed by your pantomime skills (the vehemence with which you point for the object of your desire or express your dislike for something is enough to shake the barrettes right out of your hair). You love bathtime because it's the only time you really get one-on-one attention and are guaranteed a song or two if not an entire medley complete with Daddy and ZP bringing a guitar in and serenading you while you lounge in bubbly warm water.

It's a hard knocks life for you with The Beast on the prowl and many is the time your head has met the business end of a Thomas the Tank Engine train. But as he finally understood that you were not taking over his stuff (Daddy included) and you were here to stay, he has been pleased and proud to announce himself your big brother, your protector, your secret giver of extra vittles. Your willingness to eat, let alone eat exotic foods, still astounds us. We were burned so badly by Dr. No that every time you lean forward and open your mouth for masala channa or banana or haleem or cottage cheese, we are blown away.

Alas, your wonderful sleeping habits of laying in a crib and drifting off have fallen by the wayside, in part because you sleep earlier than ZP and have to be cloistered from his super sonic night time screeching rituals and in part because we spoiled you and you got used to sleeping next to me on the bed while holding my hand. As you are getting older, you are becoming more aware of injustice (ZP yanking a toy out of your hands and running away), the comings and goings of people (if Daddy doesn't pick you up the moment he walks in the door, there is hell to pay for everyone), and the superhero-like level of hearing you have (the moment the television turns on, you whip your head toward it before the picture even hits the screen). Such a girl, you are quite eager to dole out hugs, you are happy to lay your head on someone's shoulder, and you are extremely adept at giving smoochies. If you ever find a monkey within grabbing distance, you are more likely than not to plant a nice, loud, wet one on its head. Like your brother, you like to be scared, you like to be tickled, and you like to travel.

You have changed our lives and made them fuller and richer. You are a joy to your grandparents, aunts, uncles, and friends. You are healthy, clever, and have excellent taste in parents. We love you to pieces, even when, and sometimes especially when, you lord over us with your regality. Happy Birthday, me wee lass! Enjoy this limited-time-only clip show in your honor!

Six of one, half a dozen of the other

Happy Six Month Birthday, me wee one! I cannae believe that six months today, you came into my life. 

Five months ago, you were a tiny bundle that was shuttled from person to person in an attempt to keep you from harm's way (i.e. your big brother).  ZP was still in the throes of jealousy and the terrible twos which made for a harrowing time for all.  In fact, your arrival heralded ZP's first full sentence which was repeated whenever he saw TP carrying you:  "Baby Ziza DOWN!"  You took everything, including ZP's shrieking and banging and general havoc-wreaking, with great aplomb and and composure.  You were so very easy-going and undemanding.  The visitors you received were astonished by your shock of hair, your saucer-sized eyes, and your rosebud mouth.  You slept well, you ate well, and you actually enjoyed a good cuddle session.

Four months ago, you were your Nani's roommate to allow your poor bedraggled parents a moment of rest.  You retained your lovely hostess manners while various relatives and friends came to visit and ooh and ahh over you.  When ZP was born, we bought a new leather recliner.  This time, we craiglisted my old IKEA couch away and replaced it with two bigger, microfiber Crate and Barrel couches so that Babu could sleep more comfortably.  Your wardrobe grew exponentially as people took pity on you suffering the indignity of wearing some of ZP's hand-me-downs.  Soon, his room was strewn with as many blue shirts as it was with pink dresses.  Eventually, your grandparents had to return and you were left in the care of just the three of us.


Three months ago, the weather was nicer and we started taking you out for walks.  As it is with most babies, the fresh air would knock you out.  But for those brief moments before the stroll began, you would soak in the sights and sounds and smile.  We thought that all infants were pretty much alike in the early months, but you proved us wrong.  As energetic and volatile and explosive as ZP was, you were ladylike and gentle and sweet.  ZP started taking an interest in you and actually acknowledged your presence instead of steadfastly ignoring your existence completely unless and until TP glanced your way.  He even started to want to hold you and offer you some of his toys . . . to look at . . . for a short time.  Your sleeping and eating habits were still a welcome surprise to us and we kept waiting for the other shoe to drop but it never did.  Thanks for the sleep!  

Two months ago, I cut my own heart out and returned to work full time with Tia taking care of you and ZP. It was so hard to do and the only thing that made it bearable was that I knew you were in good hands and that I was just a flight of stairs away.  The first week was torture because every time I heard you cry, I wanted to drop everything and sweep you up.  Actually, that did happen on more than one occasion (thank goodness my work is flexible enough to allow me to do so).  But eventually, you warmed up to Tia and a routine was set and there was peace in the land again.  During the day, you play nicely on your own or, when ZP isn't charging head-first into you, with ZP himself in that you observe him playing with his toys, dashing around in circles, and singing songs to you.  In the evening, TP handles the ZP feeding duties (which I was more than happy to relinquish) while you and I have a little mother-daughter bonding session beginning in the tub, progressing to the couch for a quick dinner, and ending on the bed where we smile at each other, give each other some cuddles, and then pass out with trails of drool glistening on our cheeks.


One month ago, you took your first flight to Georgia for your Chai Khala's wedding.  As expected, you were very well-behaved on the plane to Atlanta, in the van to Columbus, and throughout the wedding festivities.  You were dressed in some pretty fancy finery that you Nani tailored for you out of some of our gently-used (i.e. old and didn't fit anymore) shalwar kurtas, saris, dupattas, you name it.  While ZP was running amok with his uncles (from ages 5 to 7), you were content to lounge around with Nani and Babu and everyone who could get their hands on you.  You took your first dip in a swimming pool/jacuzzi with Uncle KG and, much like your lavender-scented baths, you found it to your liking.  The next week, you played the gracious hostess again when the wedding party arrived here for the second part.  The evening drives to the parties when you were hungry and/or tired were not so much to your liking.  Nonetheless, for the most part, you still displayed a good nature, a super wattage smile, and (once again differentiating yourself from your brother) a stunning preference for vegetables over fruit.

Now, you are half a year old.  You just sprouted your first tooth.  You have graduated to the 6-9 month clothes.  You enjoy giving raspberries and are starting to babble a bit.  You love gnawing on board books, trucks, and power tools.  Alas, we celebrated your six month milestone with yet another doctor's visit in which you were pronounced a happy, healthy baby and then jabbed no less than four times as a reward. But the day is bright and sunny and pleasant enough to enjoy some time at the park which is where you are now.  I love you, Aziza Baziza!

She Sells Sanctuary

Dear Baby Aziza,

Sorry I've been so lax in documenting your arrival and subsequent stay with us.  After last night's tornado touchdowns and downed power lines, it appears that my office's server is down and so, while everyone else is asleep, I finally have a free moment to report.  So.

It was a dark and stormy night.  As we raced through the cobbled streets of D.C. (well, they weren't cobbled, but they were so busticated and full of potholes that they felt cobbled), I clutched the armrest and my stomach when we hit a bump or when my bump hit me.  My contractions had started that afternoon but they did not cluster together until about 8 p.m. that night.  You politely waited until we finished our meeting with ZP's "Tia" to discuss future employment plans.  Then, after they left and we started getting ZP down for the night, your patience ended and the blindly painful contractions went into full force.  I called up LB and KG to scream at them to hurry over and babysit ZP (who, thankfully, had gone to sleep without much fuss) so that we could get to the hospital.  It was a Friday night and therefore easy enough for them to stay over while we ran out into the rain (well, TP ran;  I had to waddle along and pause to double over and catch my breath now and then) and drove to Sibley.

Thanks to early planning, the hospital already had all of my information and I was able to get a room right away.  My brain was filled with angry bees and I couldn't concentrate on anything other than getting through each contraction and waiting for the epidural.  When the anesthesiologist arrived, I nearly wept with relief.  He waved some forms in front of me, making me promise not to sue in case I ended up paralyzed or turned into a swamp monster.I scribbled my names on the forms, nearly breaking the pen in half.  Then, he tried to give me a verbal notice detailing what the forms said.  "Do you want the long version or the short version," he asked me as I bent over to have my spine swabbed.  Was he kidding me?  I almost laughed and wanted to answer, "oh, the long version please.  And don't give me the shot until you've finished and I have considered the options for a long while."  "SHORT VERSION," I gritted.  I got the shot and about half an hour later, I was calm enough to ignore the waves of shrieking pain that I knew were crashing over my body because I could see them on the monitor, but I couldn't feel them any more.  I also couldn't feel my legs; they just felt like two balloons.  Or, perhaps two heavy slabs of meat would be more accurate.  Either way, I was happy.  I felt better - enough to think again, enough to tease TP, enough to realize that, yep, this is it.

The drugs wore off after a while and until the next hit, I was instructed to take deep breaths through the contractions.  My mind swirled around to find something to latch onto so that I could remove it from my body and get through the pain.  Scuba diving.  Scuba diving in Belize with LB where we learned how to breathe slowly in order not to run through the tank of oxygen.  The doctor flitted in and out to check on me (and in me) and finally announced that it was time for the big show.  Memories of the grueling three hours of pushing and tearing and bleeding gripped me but this time around, it was infinitely easier.  "Push!  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.  Okay, breathe.  Push! 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.  Okay, now just half a push.  1, 2, 3, 4 HERE SHE IS!"  And there you were.  Tiny, balled up, perfect.  Full head of hair, gentle cries, and finally someone in the family who resembles me.

 You were a dream at the hospital and got rave reviews for your raven locks from the staff.   After the clean-up crew left and it was just the three of us, I realized it was the first night I had ever spent away from ZP.  It saddened me, but I was excited to see ZP's reaction when he first met you.  LB and KG had been taking good care of him and brought him over the next day to make your acquaintance.  It was a pretty successful meeting and ZP was interested but only vaguely so; I was just glad he didn't have a melt-down (that was to come later).  I think part of his pleasant demeanor was due in large part by balloons, cookies, and buttons to push to make the bed go up and down.  Your Nani and Babu were stuck in several inches of snow trying to get to D.C. so it wasn't until we took you home that they got to snatch you away and shower you with adoration and awe.  

So, there's the first day(s) down on paper.  I'll try to jot down the highlights of months one and two before the month three milestone passes.  Suffice it to say, you rock.  More in a bit, my baby doll.