Looking Back: Out of Asia

Ok, this post is a bit after the fact, but in October we went to Portland, Oregon, USA (USA! USA!). Mother had a conference there, Ara went following her food source, and father went to carry spears and watch World Series of Poker on ESPN. Luckily, Portland is located on the same coast as much of Ara's extended family, so the conditions were right for some first meetings. We flew for 5 hours to Tokyo, and then another 9 to Portland. Yes, you can fly from Tokyo to Portland. As a veteran of air travel, Ara had no trouble with a slightly longer flight. Her only condition was that she be held by someone standing up the entire time. Luckily there was a good spot in the back where other parents were doing the same thing. One set of parents dead set against enjoying life had 3 kids under 5. The flight attendants alternated between being friendly and reminding us that the fasten seat belt sign was on (it never actually goes off) and that we were responsible if anything went wrong. Seven (!) people from Ara's grand-generation came from BC and California to see the little monster in action. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh were replaced with clothing, blankets, and little shoes. Farmar and Brian met us at the airport and whisked us off to their Hotel where Heather waited. For an hour or so Ara entertained the room with her cooing and smiles. It was very festive. Grandfather arrived a few hours later to see Ara sleep. When she woke a few hours later the whole scene was repeated. That night we feasted on seafood at a nice spacious American restaurant. Ara was very good and only had to be taken outside screaming once. We all took a turn holding her so the others could eat. Maybe she fell asleep at some point. A day or two later, Mother was in the swing of the conference and Gordon, Mark, and Donna arrived. More first meetings, more laughing, and more photos. Ara never really got the hang of sleeping during the night, so we didn't force it. We just stayed up all night long in our hotel room, keeping her entertained and watching HBO. When she got fussy, we headed down to the enormous lobby and walked up and down the halls. During these lobby sessions, Elisa pioneered the side shuffle toward the mirror which made Ara laugh really hard for the first time. It was the perfect joke as it combined two of Ara's favourite humour (too much canadian spelling?) elements: depth perception and movement. In order to get any sleep at all, we got into a good routine where dad bundled Ara up and stuffed a bag full of provisions and marched her over to the extended family hotel for playtime and a nap. After a few hours of sleep and an hour of World Series of Poker, dad would join the party while mom went to work the conference. After a few days, the service was enhanced and farmar collected her from our hotel. Of course she slept like a baby (hah!) once she got there making it look easy. At the end of the week, mother had finished doing her thing and farmar took us to the airport. Another exhausting 15 hours of flying later we were home! All in all, the whole thing was immensely successful and a good time was had by all. Portland ended up being as good a meeing place as any. People there were very friendly and intelligent, and the air was clean and crisp. I didn't get much of a sense of the place, but I think I can summarize it by saying that there is a high hipster per capita ratio, one gigantic bookstore, and a collection of bridges that they may or may not take pride in. Also they have very coordinated traffic signals. J-walking is nearly impossible. I wouldn't even try it if I were you. Nope, don't do it. Not recommended... Where will Ara go next?

Girl, You Couldn't Get Much Higher

Solid Foods have begun. Actually, they began a little while ago, with me, my mom, and Ryan all crouching around a disgusted Ara on the floor of the living room, trying to entice her with increasingly sugary morsels. We started out with the recommended Rice Cereal (organic of course!). We had heard wonderful stories from two women in the "neighborhood" (read: communist block apartment complex). They both claimed that the addition of a little baby rice to their childrens' diets resulted in a shift from 2 hour sleeps to EIGHT HOUR SLEEPS! So we were pretty excited. They both said their kids gulped down the baby rice (or as the scottish of the two put it, beebee rayce) and then conked out for hours. Well, Ara did neither of these. She DESPISED the beebee rayce, and then slept worse than ever before. So much for silver bullets filled with beebee rayce. Finally, however, we reasoned that there were more reasons than just Ara's sleep patterns for starting her on solid foods in earnest. We had to admit that, while convenient, it was unlikely that Ara would continue to drink from bottles into her 20's. Also, she was starting to reject the bottle, and do fake chewing a lot. But even still, the beebee rayce was going NOWHERE! We then tried beebee oatmeal, but still nothing. Then banana! Re-Jected! Finally, in a fit of teething, screaming madness, we tried maple-flavored teething biscuit! And we had success. Ara was totally happy with the teething biscuit. She could hold it herself, and slam it into her mouth, drool all over it, and best yet, chew it! But man cannot live on teething biscuit alone, so eventually we mixed teething biscuit with oatmeal (melting the biscuit to make the whole thing taste mapley) and voila! We had a child who actually likes oatmeal! (she still can't stand beebee rayce though). So, as we progressed from sloppy to sloppier, we realized that the hover wasn't going to work. To feed her on the living room floor we had to prop her up on the sheepskin, cover it with protective muslins, and then hope that she could sit up unsupported long enough to get her food down (and by "down" I mean "everywhere within a metre radius"). This was a messy business. Finally, we had to admit the wisdom in yet another conventional baby item, and came to terms with the fact that highchairs were not just a marketing ploy. Out we went, now with another grandmother (Farmar - the grandmother formerly known as "Syd") and grandfather (Opa!!) on a death march to find the perfect highchair. Well - there are LOTS of varieties of high chairs out there in the world, and nearly all of them are either incredibly ugly, or wildly expensive (though tasteful to a degree only attainable by the Danes or Swedes), or totally impractical (a high chair with no little table? With no safety harness?? WITH NO CHAIR??!!). Just when we thought all was lost, we found, to our surprise, a wooden (for the yuppy in us), practical (has both a table, AND a safety harness), inexpensive (for the chepos in us), high chair that converts - get this - into a little table and chair for later use (for the ever-diminishing sensible in us). What's more, it had a whimsical animal (cow? giraffe??) for a back cushion. So Farmar and I wrestled the high chair home, while daddy and Opa partied it up in Lan Kwai Fong watching the premiership in an "Irish" pub owned by an Aussie. We were actually kind of nervous about how Ara would take to her new piece of furniture. We'd bought her a chair in the past: a Chicco Rocker, which was more stylish than babyish, even we had to admit. We also had to admit that she's just not that into it. As in, she wants out of it! Invariably. So it was with bated breath that we observed Ara's first few minutes in the high-chair. Amazingly, she LOVED it!! She banged her toys on the little table, just like we'd hoped she would, and then dutifully spat out an entire meal while laughing her head off.