A To-Do Day And Then Tah Dah!

It was a jiggedy day today whose middle was filled with errands and to-dos but it ended in a grand "tah dah!"  It was made of many stepping-stone parts that formed a satisfying whole.  Mondays are often like that; they seem to flop into big chairs and slump with a feeling of "whew, now that was something," like Sunday took all the good things and left junk behind.

First, I swam with friends, back in the pool again finally after a two-week holiday break. Fitness has slipped and I need lots of hours of work to get back in shape.  I had lunch at The Breakfast Club in Seaside where a waitress who was petite, wiry and looked like a roller derby player brought me an enormous plate of salad and a bowl of soup.  It was almost as big as she was.  I saw her staggering along with it and the other plates of food she brought to us.  She needed a U-Haul truck for goodness sake.

Gabriel the New, grand-nephew of minute proportions, age five months, gazed upon his world philosophically until he was handed a big shiny teaspoon.  While I and two loved ones ate our massive lunches, his eyes fixed upon a teaspoon and both hands grasped it with the strength of ten monkeys.  Into his mouth it went, sure as sunrise, for evaluation.  He gummed everything he could find while we talked and caught up on news.  After some good-luck kisses on his soft cheeks, he and his mom said good-bye, to meet again in a week or two.  He is handsome already, and it is assured that girls will find him irresistible, but he will not know they exist, I'll bet.  We shall see.  He has to get out of diapers first.

Friends and errands took up bits and chunks of time until I realized sunset was nearly upon me.  There are many dramatic vistas on our local shores, and today's very low tide produced unusual features of rock, exposed seaweed and stampeding breakers backlit by the setting sun.  Every day, cars and bicycles migrate to the western shore, assembling along Sunset Drive and at Asilomar State Beach.  Clumps of people stand along the walking path or sit in their parked cars to witness the inexorable slow descent of the sun to the horizon and its tatters of gold shredded across the sky.  I don't know how they feel exactly, but in my mind there is music and the Almighty is present in a grand and commanding display.

Santa's Little Helper

A small boy visited me today, riding on his mother's hip and leaning out over all he surveyed with twinkling interest in his blue-gray eyes.

Our little grand-nephew Gabriel the New is almost five months old.  His hat proclaims him Santa's Little Helper, but all he can do is wriggle.  In his jaunty red snap-closed jumper, he rolled and squeaked on the floor while the giant adults all around him watched, delighted.

Nothing quite compares to a cute baby in a good mood.  This one, of course, is our current favorite and barely has to move to set everybody within shouting distance rushing to his aid, which he loves.  In truth, his expression says he is somewhat amused by what goes on around him, but show him a cell phone or other small gadget and his attention is riveted.  His feet kick, his body bucks and bounces and his hands reach slowly toward the dazzling gizmo.  His eyes lock onto it and his mouth forms an O.  I hope teachers in his future can get that kind of response to what they need to teach him.

All 15 pounds of Gabriel are healthy and will increase to 16 pounds soon and beyond.  He is well loved and has oodles of confidence and basks in the secure comfort of total affection, a lucky boy, captain of his ship and master of a tiny universe.  There is no cringe or ducking shyness in this little one.  No, he will be a handful when he gets his feet under himself.  Until then, every last member of the family and friends everywhere adore him and love is innocent immobility for now.  I kissed him for luck and hope I see him again soon.

Gabriel The New: So Far So Good

His Newness, Gabriel, my grandnephew, has reached the tender age of 12 weeks, a very healthy boy.

I visited the little one two days ago when his mother and I could intersect our schedules for a half hour.  She is doing very well, regaining fitness and taking a place alongside mothers her age who have infants his age.

What can you say about babies?  Mothers have lots to say.  So do dads, of course, and they notice every subtle shift in mood or wobbling movement.  Their every hiccup or yawn is delightful and adorable.  With skin is so soft you second guess the sensitivity of your fingertips, you wonder if you have actually touched them.  

Gabriel sat as I held him on my lap and wobbled vigorously, and when I stood him up before me, his little legs made repeated pogo hops up and down, bouncing automatically, like a marionette.  Being only 12 weeks old, very little is willful about him.  His body is spasmodic and uncoordinated, and yet he is very strong.  He is adored, appropriately so, by all who see him, and his parents are doing everything you hope parents will do to support the growth and development of their child.  Everyone kisses him, talks to him, wants him to hold.

Yesterday, two days after I visited Gabriel, I encountered a young man who had, by all accounts, never been given any fraction of the love and gentle guidance that His Newness has been showered.  The young man I met, not much past his teens, had been given street drugs when he was in first grade and had begun "partying" with his parents when he was in middle school.  He was hooked on heroin at the age of 16 or so.  As I looked at him, I saw Gabriel, all wobbly and helpless but absolutely developing confidence and curiosity about his safe and secure world, even now.

I wonder if there is a bigger crime than ruining your own child's development, distorting their neural activity and undermining them socially and emotionally from the outset of their lives.  I don't know.  All crimes are monstrous, certainly.  Good parenting is crucial, something I naively hope we all understand.

I am even perhaps naive in believing that parents who try to raise their child well are what is needed to get that child to adulthood without mishap.  Values and beliefs guide the child, good or bad, weak or strong.  If a baby like Gabriel, who is soaking up every little sound, every nuance of every word, gleaning information at all times from his home and family, is in a pretty consistent steady place, he has a better chance of understanding how to be an effective adult.

His Newness is at the funny stage of being easily distracted now from nursing.  He leaves off and looks all around the room, at the people with him and what he does not notice would barely fill a thimble.  His mom and dad have to be just as aware, interpreting and teaching him, guiding, setting limits to keep him safe.  They are, and he is thriving.

I didn't tell them about the drug addicted 20-something young man I'd encountered whose life is so marginal right now.  The stronger and more positive their love and joy can be, the better they will weather storms ahead.  Besides, holding Gabriel, all cute and wriggly and warm, was a good balm for me, too.  I'll be going back for more very soon.

Cute Babies and Insect Feet

It's an odd thing to be looking at insect feet and wondering how they hold on to slick surfaces that are vertical, especially when everyone else is watching a cute baby gurgling and smiling.

I like cute babies, but, you know, they just cannot walk on walls or ceilings.

I don't know where to go with that thought, but there it is.

I'm glad babies don't have insect feet, because mothers would never want to nurse them up close to themselves.  You can imagine the screaming and edginess, can't you.  I hope genetic engineering never gets to that point.  Babies need to be cute so that parents won't really notice how much diapers cost.  Speaking of diapers, mothers who nurse need little porta potties to tie around their waists so babies nursing can just get potty trained at the same time.  In one end, out the other.  One stop shopping, so to speak.

I am thinking I am ready to go visit Gabriel The New again soon.  He is about a month and a half old, has gained weight steadily and is charming every visitor for miles.  His uber super mother, has finally finished her masters degree in sport psychology.

I guess, too, I could check out the insects' feet if I see any while I'm there.  Don't you think it's like Star Wars that insects can walk on water, rest upside down on ceilings, migrate hundreds and hundreds of miles?  Not one single insect looks capable of doing anything, really, but they do all sorts of bizarre things.  I mean, you aeronautical engineers, what are the chances a bee can actually fly?  I'm pretty sure no jets are patterned after them.

Babies, on the other hand, grow like mad when you aren't looking.  They get really stout, then they fall asleep solid as a little rock and grow taller all at once.  I heard that some babies have actually been measured after a 24-hour growth spurt two inches longer.  That's equal to insect feats. Or their feet.  

It's all mind-boggling, no matter which creature you choose to admire.  What can you say except it's all much stranger than fiction.  You can't make that stuff up.