Rising Brother

Despite Lady E. being the center of our universe for the past 5.5 months, occasionally there are posts that aren’t focused exclusively on her. This is one of them!
This time, it’s about another person who is especially important to me--my brother, Stephen. He's been a part of my universe for 17.6 years now.

Stephen graduates from high school today. Even though he has been growing up far from where I live, our mom has been very diligent in keeping me up to speed on his development. She is never shy in describing many of the small details of what he is doing, all of which point to what a wonderful young man he has become. I just want him to know –and anyone else reading this— that I am very proud of him and wish him the best as he moves on to the next stage of his life. As he graduates to a new academic pursuit, and upgrades to college student V1.0, Naomi, Lady E. and I wish him every success and we look forward to seeing him again in person. Hopefully in a nice warm place at Christmas.(Hint, hint)

It’s an exciting time, Steve, my rising brother. Enjoy it. Suck up the gravy! And congratulations from all of us over here in Sushiland.

Addendum (July): the Real McCoy...

Rock and Roll

At 5.5 months old, my daughter is as nimble as Iggy Pop. She jumps up, squirms with abandon whenever we put her in a horizontal position, stamps her feet (albeit with support from yours truly) and twists her body in rapid motions with evident glee. She has amazing levels of energy and memorable facial expressions. She works the crowd with an innate Vaudevillian streak that clearly comes from her mother, not me. (ahem)

Lady E. babbles a lot these days—“eeee ah ooooh.” yeeeeah!

And then screams at 10 decibels.
Just like Iggy Pop.

She drools without shame.
(Maybe) Just like Iggy Pop.

She likes being The Passenger…in our car and viewing new places with rapt fascination.

She puts unbelievable amounts of energy into everything she does.
Just like Iggy Pop.

But she doesn’t do stage dives. At least, not yet, because we keep a careful eye on her when we’re changing diapers.

In short, Lady E. is healthy, happy, highly entertaining and developing rapidly. She is the light of our lives :)

Lust for life--both of 'em!

Lady E’s Limousine Part I

Our vehicle of choice, the Laputa: its size…’unpretentious’ and endearingly squat. Its 64 horsepower performance… grudging and temperamental. Its ride quality…uncompromisingly standard. But it’s a mini-SUV on steroids!

Squeeze into the driver’s seat, turn the ignition key, and listen to the high-pitched squeal of 660ccs of pure turbocharged power. That is when you realize that this menace of the road really is…Lady E’s Limousine. It’s a tiny little car that is a perfect fit for our tiny little boss.

We bought it in September 2006 when Naomi was still pregnant, knowing that a vehicle would be invaluable when our child came into the world. Prior to that, we had only owned a motorcycle and a 50cc scooter—too “good with money” to maintain a car, rebels without a clue. The contrarian instinct in me cherishes the fact that our Laputa actually has an engine displacement that is smaller than my motorcycle. (Another reason I chose this vehicle was its boffo meaning in Spanish. Maybe there is a frustrated comic somewhere naming Japanese cars?)

"The Unpimpable Ride"

Anyway, our freewheelin’ two-wheel lifestyle has ended, but we aren’t in the soccer mom demographic yet because the cargo capacity of the Laputa permits onboard loading of only our beloved daughter’s baby seat and the necessary baby maintenance gear we need to hit the road. My expertise in packing and logistics has benefited significantly from this!

Now we have this little micro-mini to ferry Elena around and have some fun. It’s basically one of the most economical four-wheel drive rides going, has great gas mileage and thus is eco-guilt-free, and despite its frugal nature we love it. Having a small car affords the kind of mobility we need—given the geographical limitations of Japan, we have no desire for a grand touring vehicle.
Unless we hatch a sibling for Lady E…. !

My Baby Just Cares For Me: Lady E & Music

I confess that I lifted Billy Holliday’s famous moniker when I gave Elena the nickname “Lady E.” The reasons: not only does Elena command my attention and devotion, thanks to her regal bearing and A-list celebrity status in our household, I also happen to love music. I like to expose her to different kinds of music because I think it’s healthy and fun. This is not in the vein of forcing your toddler to listen-to-Mozart-to-develop-her-brain-functions early kind of hyper-kinetic parenting; nope, it’s a simple great music=happy mood=happy baby kind of thinking. She’ll face enough pressure later in life, why start when she is an infant?
So, this morning it was “Tangerine” from Led Zeppelin III and a small dose of “Sinnerman” from Nina Simone (another original ‘lady’ I dream that E. might emulate in some way). I’ve read that there is a biopic about Nina Simone in the works now and, before the inevitable ‘Nina boom’ to come, I want to expose my daughter to the estimable Ms. Simone’s vibe. And Pearl Jam…check out “Wishlist” from the Yield CD and tell me that it isn’t a beautiful piece of rock 'n roll: “I wish I was a messenger and all the news was good. I was a full moon shining off a Camaro’s hood.” Sweet Americana. And don’t even get me started about the Cowboy Junkies entire catalog…

Music is a way for us to expose our child to one of the finer things inherent to being alive --great music-- and makes the hours I spend standing up in our living room with our squealing four month-old all the sweeter. She can make fun of my musical taste in about 12 years or so.

The Crystal Meth of New Fatherhood...

...is watching your daughter's reflexive smiles as she slowly wakes up, eyeballs fluttering, regains consciousness in stages, and embarks on a brand new day. These minor scenes -- repeated hundreds of millions of times the world over every morning -- are enough to make even a confirmed cynic like me feel an innocent’s unblinking delight in all the new scenes encountered in a new day. Complementing this innate satisfaction is the sensation of weightier concerns, like global warming, genocide and omnipresent general nastiness, receding to a dim hum in the background as a result of my groggy little Lady E.'s smile.

Rhetorical question: if this is one of the intoxicants of parenting, why doesn't it render people incapable of doing shitty things to others, even temporarily? I feel like Bill Bixby when I transform from an aggressive imperialist carnivore to an idealistic utopian striver in the space of a few seconds under the gaze of my rising daughter.

The effect does fade and I inevitably revert to my usual self, but, overall, I think becoming a dad has made me a better human.

Baby Massage!! and a visit from some of my co-workers

Naomi and I are big fans of massages and recently we had the opportunity to learn about the art of infant massage. (This resulted in a series of extremely cute photos. I will, however, refrain from posting too many of them.) The instructor was a well-intentioned, very nice and very nouveau hippy-ish lady who has been instructing new parents on how to massage their new babies at the hospital where Naomi gave birth. She showed us a variety of techniques and explained the theory behind infant massage, i.e. that touch promotes brain growth, digestion and a host of other benefits.
Lady E’s initial reaction to Naomi’s massaging was an endearing look of bewilderment. After awhile, though, and many extremely loud cries later, we figured out she doesn’t like her back rubbed. It must be “a toddler thing” because both her parents are huge fans of getting a massage. Anyway, we decided to take the slow exposure route. Naomi is still adjusting her massage regimen and we are keeping at it because it’s an interesting concept, albeit not easy with a squirming little person. Lady E. seems to be coming around to the idea, though. When she’s in her thirties, no doubt she will long for a Thai massage, just like her parents do now. Everyday.

One of the many pleasures I have in the course of doing my job is the presence of my co-workers, many of whom are female. Of course, as a confirmed “oya abaka” (best translated as “extremely doting parent”) I bore the hell out of other staffers at my office with photos, what-I-consider-interesting baby stories and the URL for this blog! Lucky for us, Elena manages to charm them with her magical drooling powers. Anyway, a few of them came over recently for a grin and grip session with Lady E.

Thanks for coming to visit, ladies, for two reasons: 1) We are always pleased to have visitors come and say hi and meet our lilttle rugrat and 2) it gives me a chance to brag about Naomi’s kickass debut as a mother and show off the amazing progress our beloved bundle of joy is making. Elena is now 16 weeks old as of this writing, and has vowed to kick the booze and smokes for health reasons.

Viva la revolution!

Hip-Hop Cookie Monster

When my mom came to visit in March, among other gifts she brought a blue Yum Yum Talking Cookie Monster. Elena just seems to love the sounds that come out when you pry open its mouth:
"Me…love…cookies."

"Umm...de YUM…."
"Soft….deLICIOus…"
"Burp, excuse me…" etcetera.

We use Cookie Monster at crisis points to calm Lady E. down or divert her attention from screaming when the usual countermeasures are not effective. Its magical powers work like a charm nearly every time. Plus, sometimes Elena seems to really respond to it, making for entertaining gobbledygook conversations between the three-month old tiny person and the little blue Sesame Street toy.

One twist I enjoy is to add an element of my own brand of nonsensical fun to the mix. Specifically, the toy’s audio voice is activated when the Cookie Monster’s mouth is opened and two contact points inside are separated. So I figured out a way to have the elements briefly connect, making the words come out super-fast and resulting in Rain Man-esque rapid fire speech:
“So-so-so-soft. de-de-de-de-deli-sha-sha-sha-ous.”
“Ek-ek-ek-ek-ek-cu-cu-cu-cuse me.”

This never ceases to entertain me. So the Hip-Hop Cookie Monster actually amuses TWO infants in our household.

Snoop Dogg meets the Cookie Monster? Maybe if I figure out a way to upload audio files you can get a taste of this infant funk. It may seem trivial to you, dear reader, but for us, well, it keeps me laughing and my rising daughter delighted.

Later, b----es!