Dinosaur Book

Today at COSTCO, I went in to buy one thing: a case of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale for the attractive wife. I emerged with a lot more including a very cool Dinosaur pop-up book for Jack which features battery-operated sounds and movement. The text is a bit too advanced for Jack three-and-a-half-year-old mind (I don't think he appreciates the difference between sauropods and therapods) but the illustrations and pop-up stuff are awesome. He's really enjoying it.

Transitions ...

With all the hullabaloo about Baby Sister (who still remains at the "hostable") Jack inherently gets that things are changing -- yet the proverbial hammer has yet to drop. My parents arrived last week to help up with the baby's arrival but to Jack, it's like a normal visit. He does see my attractive wife and I rushing off to the hostable to drop off pumped breast milk and catch the next scheduled feeding. I think he appreciates things are about to change but they haven't and he's acting out in some ways.

Still, having my folks here is great; Jack loves his Nanni and Pa. Here's a picture of them eating breakfast.

Trifecta

Well, it's been a helluva week. The attractive wife is still on bed rest at the hospital. The baby is doing fine although my wife is going stir crazy. During her first 48 hours in the hospital, she was hooked up to several IVs: magnesium (for the contractions), two types of antibiotics (to prevent potential infection) and a glucose (for hydration). The magnesium in particular had terrible side-effects: dry mouth, a burning sensation at the IV site, and general levels of crappiness. After 48 hours, the doctors were pleased that her contractions were under control and took her off the magnesium. Almost immediately, she began to feel better.

By mid-week, she was on oral antibiotics and anti-contraction medication. Yesterday, the took the hydration IV away (although she maintains a saline lock on her arm in case another IV is needed). Also, our doctor weighed in that the baby was ready to come out, via cesarean section, on Monday (which corresponds to 34 weeks gestation). As of the last ultrasound, the baby is breech (feet down) so the safest route is a C Section.

Jack has been a trouper throughout. At first, we were making daily visits to the hospital but by mid-week, concerns about the spread of Swine Flu put the hospital on lock down: no more than two visitors at a time and no visitors under the age of 16. So for the last few days, he's been asking why he couldn't go see mommy. I keep telling him she has to rest to prepare for the arrival of baby sister or (lamely) that the hospital is closed.

Jack adjusting TV channels for Mommy before being banished from the hospital

To make matters worse, Jack came down with another viral infection late in the week. Today he stared a bad cough and a mild fever. I took him to the after hours clinic and the doctor who saw him said his lungs sounded fine but that he likely would get worse before he got better. Damn.

Abuelita's 94th

My grandmother ("Abuelita") turned 94 in mid-April. On the heels of returning from Texas to visit my attractive wife's mother, we got back in a plane on the next weekend and flew down to San Diego for the Fiesta Royale.

Hugging the Birthday Girl

My aunt, Marta, is the usual hostess for this party and she spares no expense. She's got a big back yard with a pool, hires an authentic taco man and musical entertainment.

"Chunky" Sanchez performs

Jack is extremely social and loves my Big Fat Mexican family. He has myriad number of second cousins (the children of my first cousins) who range in age from one to eleven and fits comfortably into the brood.

Mmmm, tacos

It was, of course, a special treat to see my 94 year old Abuelita. She is the rock of our family.

Jack double-fisting candy. He later levitated from the sugar high.

Hugging second cousin, Ivana.

"Happy Easter Eggs!"

Last night, after Jack went to sleep, Nana and Papa hid multi-colored plastic Easter eggs filled with Teddy Grahams and animal crackers (with the thinking that those were not as bad for him as actual candy). Jack was thrilled to discover the eggs when he woke up, and made sure to wish everyone a "Happy Easter egg!" when we all woke up.

"Happy Easter Eggs!"

Later in the day, however, laughter turned to tears when Jack helped Nana decorate hard-boiled Easter eggs with Paas dyes. First Jack thought he needed to break the eggs the way you do when you are making a cake (which he has helped Mama do). He finally got the hang of dipping them in the dyes and enjoyed seeing the different colors. But then he was distraught to learn that the eggs needed to go back in the fridge, and he couldn't take them to the park. He cried Big Tears until we managed to distract him with another activity.

Scout

This weekend we are visiting my attractive wife's mom and stepdad.  One of the reasons we came was to meet Scout, a five year old yellow labrador retriever they have rescued.  In his brief life he's had a number of owners who, for various reasons, have had to give him up.  As a result, Scout is a little confused and needy.  We are thinking of giving him a permanent home but are taking our time in making our decision; Jack is handful and we are expecting a new addition to our family in mid-June.  Still, we have always wanted a dog (my attractive wife and I both grew up with dogs in the family).  

Today, we went with "Nanna and Papa" to the local PetSmart store where Scout graduated from the first level of obedience school.  Scout's trainer, Christine, told us Scout will need a lot of attention because he has been moved from owner to owner.  We are naturally concerned (we both work full time) but think we can give Scout a quality life.  Watch this blog for more news on Scout!

Backyard Bullfight

While I was away, my parents flew up from Los Angeles to help out my very pregnant wife with Jack. I arrived back home on a Saturday, exactly two weeks after I left. My folks didn't fly back until Monday morning so I got to spend some time with them as well before they left.

Jack loves my parents (well, he loves everyone) but he has a special affinity for his "Nanni" and "Pa." On the Saturday afternoon after I got back, we were hanging out in the back yard with our awesome neighbors Dewey and Day-Day. Jack had brought out a red balloon that was close to deflation. My father picked it up and, out of no where, proceeded to perform the most amazing matador-like dance with Jack using the red balloon as a cape.

Ole!

What was amazing was how he gracefully moved the balloon just in front of Jack enticing him to charge at him, just like a bull, moving it just out of reach and around him. He hardly stepped around, just sort of twisted adroitly as Jack charged to and fro. Where did my dad learn that? Maybe there's story there...

Hi There

Jack says hi to his baby sister.

Bye Kitty

Today Dewy and Day-Day's' cat, Bibi Kitty, had to be put down. She was seventeen years old. Jack loved to play with her, especially outside in our condo association's shared back yard area. Like most cats, it took some time for her to warm up to us. She was especially patient with Jack. As they got to know each other, she eventually would let him pet her in his ham-handed way. If he got too bothersome she would gracefully move just out of reach. It seemed to me she knew that Jack was a human kitten, so to speak. She never once bit or scratched him.

After I returned from my year in Iraq, she seemed to warm up to me too. She actually let me pet her when we were outside and, more recently, when we visited Dewey and Day-Day in their unit next door. Jack would see her and say, "Kitty is here!" and pet her while saying, "Nice." It was very cute to watch.


In the last week, Kitty's health took a dramatic turn for the worse. Dewey and Day-Day said they though they might have to put her down. When I came home with Jack this afternoon, Dewey told us that they had gone to the vet and had her put to sleep. They came back and buried her in their unit's back yard. We will miss you, Kitty.

These pictures date from June, 2007.

Jack is a Steelers fan

We hosted a Super Bowl party ... sort of: we had my sister-in-law and her oldest daughter, whom Jack adores, come over for the first half. Jack had a great time. My attractive wife and sister-in-law grew up in Pittsburgh so it was a nail-biting fourth quarter. Jack pretty much was oblivious but we still dressed him accordingly.

With Cousin Erin

Fourth quarter tension

Victory! Posing with The Terrible Towel

Fiesta de Navidad

After the taco eating, we got down to some serious partying. As the meal ended my aunt made me stand up in front of the group while she read a small tribute. (I should say this is the same aunt who, when my cousins and I were little, would organize the annual Christmas "show" where we would dress up as elves and sing songs. Thankfully, video technology didn't exist and no one was into 16mm film so there's no real evidence, aside from some non-digitized photos.)

Yes, she made me wear a crown.

When I left for Iraq, my attractive wife, aunt and mother all had bracelets made with my name on it. My aunt didn't take it off for the entire time I was over there. After her small speech I ceremonially took it off her wrist. I was very, very touched. Then I took off my mother's bracelet. My attractive wife had already taken her own bracelet off previously.

Then we went inside for a chaotic family picture. When my authoritative grandfather ran the show prior to his passing away in 1987, we all posed for a very formal picture after dinner but before opening the presents. Back then, we fit into roughly three rows: fathers standing, mothers sitting, and grandchildren sitting on the floor. With the family now spanning four generations, we just try to get in the same picture frame. We decided to try standing in my aunt's staircase. I didn't think it would work but was I ever wrong.

Photo courtesy of the Taco Man!

Then we started our family's infamous gag gift exchange. Back in the day, we actually gave gifts to each other but, as the family kept growing, this became increasing difficult to do, not to mention costly. For a while, we had a cousin-only gift exchange where we would buy one gift for another cousin based on a random draw. At some point, we gave up on that and just went to a gag gift exchange which is much more entertaining.

The prize gift in our family is the Boxing Nun. She made her first appearance several years ago and was an instant hit with three generations of Catholic-educated people in the audience. There's something about the maniacal expression on her face combined with the articulated boxing gloves that move in and out menacingly when she's held. I wrote in my Iraq blog how the cousin in Mexico who took her home last year, sent it to my aunt who then sent it to me in Iraq. She stayed most of 2008 with me there. Everyone in my family looked forward to her return from abroad.

This year's gift exchange actually featured two nuns. One was from a previous year and had a little damage to one of the arms. This was referred to as, "the Domestic Nun." My nun was, "the Iraqi Nun." Unfortunately, due to a packing error, my nun remained at home so I had to make a valuable coupon that the winner would exchange for the actual nun at a later date. The coupon was wrapped in a box.

Like all gag gift exchanges, gifts can be "stolen" a number of times (we decided on five times for this year's exchange) and that a gift could be stolen twice during a round. There were some good ones this year, as you can see below. Both nuns were stolen five times each and two lucky cousins went home with them: my cousin, Edith went home with the Iraqi Nun, and my cousin Beto went home with the Domestic Nun.

Beto Takes Her Home!

Cleaning Slippers -- Convenient!

The Mexican Version of "The Clapper"

...And the Perennial Favorite, "Meat Stick!"

Amidst the gift exchange chaos, Jack found some time to be ultra-cute with his Bisabuela (Great Grandmother).

After the gift exchange, my aunt asked each of us to say something that we were thankful for in the past year. I said I was thankful for being home.

Christmas Taco Miracle

My aunt Marta, who traditionally hosts my extended family's Christmas party in San Diego, asked me what I wanted this year in honor of my return from Iraq. I told her, "tacos." When my cousins and I were little, we often went to taco stands in Tijuana, where my grandparents lived. We had a nickname for these stands, "Tacos Parados" (lit. Standing Tacos) because few of the stands back then had seats. They were the best damn tacos you've ever had (trust me). A few years ago, my aunt hired a taco guy to come to her house for a party in honor of my grandmother's ninetieth birthday. It was delicious.

I figured my request was in vain since we would be holding the party on Christmas Day. No so; my aunt guilted a trusted Taco Purveyor into coming over after telling him I had served a year in Iraq and that my only Christmas Wish was a good taco.

My parents, attractive wife, Jack and myself drove down to San Diego on Christmas Day. We arrived early since I was informed I would be a guest of honor, side by side with the matriarch of the family, my ninety-three year-old grandmother (or, as we've always referred to her, "abuelita"). When we arrived the Taco Man already was set up and cooking. I introduced myself and personally thanked him for sharing our Christmas. For all Mexican families, the big night is actually Christams Eve so he told me it wasn't all that much of a sacrifice. For years, especially when my grandfather was alive, Christmas Eve was our family's big party night too and included a huge dinner, visits from an especially Hispanic looking Santa, and opening presents.

Upon arriving, I greeted my abuelita and thanked for all the rosaries she said on my behalf when I was in Iraq. It was great to see her (at ninety-three, there was no guarantee she would have survivied for another year for me to see her). When I saw her, such fears evaporated; although sitting, for the most part in a wheel chair, she was a spry, alert and focused as ever.

The forecast called for sporatic rain so we set up folding tables and chairs under the awning and close to the side of the house. We ran out of suitable table cloths so we ended up using Sesame Street bedsheets. My cousins had a blast "laying" it out, as you can see.

After a suitable amount of greeting each other (I hadn't seen most of them all in over two years), my aunt announced it was time to eat. I was asked to go first and I served up three carne asadas with everything (cilantro, onions, guacamole, and salsa). For the non-Mexicans out there, these tacos are not the Gringo hard shell type. They are served on small corn tortillas, which more or less, hold together an over-stuffed taco well. It. Was. Delicious. The perfect chaser for a year of institutional food in Iraq. I ended up eating five in all. I paced myself.

Oh yeah, Jack enjoyed the tacos too. But not as much as me.

Christmas Train

We drove down to Los Angeles to visit my parents for Christmas this year. I won't bore you with the details of the drive down from Northern California. It was about what you would expect with a three year old boy trapped in a car seat for eight hours.

On Christmas Eve, we walked down the street to visit my parent's neighbors who had a remarkable electric Christmas train set up around their Christmas Tree. Jack rode in a red wagon that my father keeps at the house for him and Jack's twin cousin boys who visit from Denver.

The train had five cars (including the cabose) all of which featured moving parts. It was like the "It's a Small World" ride at Disneyland. Elves popped out of coal tender, danced around a Christmas Tree, and ice skated on a small frozen pond. The train controls had buttons for a whistle, bell, and Santa yelling, "Ho, ho, ho!"

Jack loved it. It was the perfect sort of thing to see and play with at someone else's house; Jack is a little bit too young to fully appreciate something like this without ultimately destroying it.

California Academy of Science

My parents and I took Jack to the new California Academy of Science museum in San Francisco today. We had heard such good things about it from other friends; it incorporates an aquarium, planetarium, four-story Amazonian rain forest, South African Penguins, all in a newly renovated building.

Driving onto the 10th Ave entrance to Golden Gate Park was a quite a surprise as it now leads directly underground into a colossal parking lot. When I lived here eight years ago, this street entered directly into the park.

We arrived about 1030, one hour after the museum opened, to a sea of people who oddly resembled us: a mix of older couples and their adult children shepherding strollers and all the attending equipment that goes along with that.

Jack did well during the long drive over and took the waiting in line to enter in stride. I had prepped him for what we would be seeing. He was especially interested in seeing the "fishies" in the aquarium. He's a huge fan of the animated show, "Oswald" which chronicles the adventures of an anthropomorphic octopus and his best friend, Henry, a penguin. Naturally, he was interested is seeing examples of both animals.

After entering and getting our bearings, we made our way to the African Hall exhibit, which features stuffed animals and live penguin habitat. Jack was amazed by near real life examples of gorillas, zebras, lions, cheetahs, antelope, and other examples of African fauna. For some reason, he kept running back to the zebras. He pointed his finger and said, "elephants!" "No," I said, "they're zebras, buddy." He was insistent and I saw he was pointing just to the right of zebras. And there, in the simulated distance of the hand painted African Savannah, I saw a digital projection of a herd of elephants slowly making their way across the grasslands. It was very subtle but the movement caught Jack's eye. He was really excited to see them, albeit in the simulated distance. Smart kid.

The culmination of the African Hall was the live penguin habitat. Jack raced right up to it, his small size allowing him to weave between adults standing near the exhibit. When standing, Jack's head was still below the water level of the tank. I held him up to see the penguins standing on the simulated rocky shore. Periodically, they jumped off into the water to swim and dart around. Jack loved it.

After the African Hall we saw a massive swinging Foucault pendulum whose cable was suspended two stories above the main floor. I remember seeing a similar one with my father when I was a young kid at the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles, where I grew up. It was oddly comforting to see a similar pendulum with both my son and my father. Jack was fascinated and lingered much longer than I thought he would.

We then made our way down to the lower level where the aquarium exhibits were located. Jack was amazed and very excited to see so many fishes. We spend the majority of our visit down there racing from exhibit to exhibit. In addition to seeing fishes, Jack got to visit the tide pool exhibit and touch a star fish. He was a little hesitant but enjoyed it. At one of the last tanks, he saw a giant sea bass. It was bigger than him, easily. It slowly swam in circles, periodically coming right up to the tank much to the delight of the various kids watching it. Jack exclaimed, "it's my favorite!" and stayed to watch it swim around and around.

We then made our way up to the first level and had some lunch before heading out. Jack was running on adrenalin but finally conceded it was time to go home. I promised him we'd be back to visit again.

In the car on the way home, he announced, "I'm not tired," and then proceeded to fall asleep.

At the Park

This afternoon we went to the park or, as Jack refers to it, the "parky." My attractive wife and my mother also went. Whenever Jack leaves the house, he has to take a motley assortment of toys with him, usually so many that he has to struggle to hold them all. I think holding onto the toys helps him with transitioning from one activity to another. This time, he held tightly to a silver, robotic dog, given to him by our wonderful neighbors, Dewy and Day-Day (Jack's nicknames for them), who function as surrogate grandparents.

When we arrive, I always suggest Jack let me hold on to whatever toy(s) he's brought with him as they invariably get in the way of his climbing over the various play structures. He usually responds with "No, it's mine," or "I'll hold onto to it." It was the same today and he enthusiastically tackled the play structures holding onto his robotic dog.

When he got to the top level adjacent to a slide, he showed his dog to two slightly older girls. He turned the dog on and handed it over to them and they were amazed with it's robotic antics. Jack looked down on me and said, "I'm sharing!"

The girls then went down the slide and Jack followed. They went to another slide and Jack tried to re-engage the girl who was closer to his age. I couldn't help but think he was trying to impress her with the toy and maybe get some conversation. But she had lost interest and quickly ran away. Ah, the great game begins, Jack. Get used to it.

Next, Jack went to one of his favorite slides, an enclosed tube. Getting to it requires climbing several levels of play structure. He did so, still holding his robotic dog. What's funny about this, and other slides at this park, is their plastic construction is quite conducive to static shock. My attractive wife has a particular phobia/dislike of static shocks; I am less affected. Just after I got home from Iraq and when Jack's hair was longer, it would stand up on end as he slid closer to the end of the slide. I would always laugh which, in turn, would cause him to laugh. Today, even with his hair shorter, it still stood up.

Puffy

A few days ago, my mom was teasing her hair in the morning. Jack walked by the downstairs bathroom, saw her, and exclaimed, "Nanni! You're hair is puffy!"

Time Management

So we went to the park today with Nanni and Pa. Jack did his usual carousing around and showed off his new ability to climb several new play structures. After forty minutes or so, Pa asked if Jack was ready to go home. "Two more minutes," he responded. After ten or so minutes, he looked at me and said, "It's time to go home."

Nanni & Pa Visit!

My parents, whom Jack calls "Nanni and Pa," are here to visit for Thanksgiving. It's the first time I've seen them since returning from Iraq at the end of October (I saw them both when I was on leave last May).

We ate a great brunch after picking them up from the airport early this morning. When we got home, they gave Jack a new pair of Lightening McQueen slippers which Jack loves a lot.