We recently went to Biltmore again. Yes, once is enough in a lifetime, but J hadn’t ever been, so we went.
The gardens were not nearly as spectacular as we would have liked because of the record low temps in April. But it was pleasant anyway.
Results For "Month: May 2007"
Kanał Part II
L, most unexpectedly, also has her own little canal. It too is singularly effective at channeling .
L doesn’t do much of anything without putting her full effort into it, and pooping is no exception. But with pooping, she has a particular gift. Without some much as a raised eyebrow, L can expel her cottage-cheesy poop with such energy that, upon impacting the diaper, it follows the path of least resistance, right up her back.
A good poop means that she leaves wet marks mid-way up her back. A spectacular poop goes three-fourths of the way up to her shoulder blades. Her personal best is just below her shoulder blades.
It’s spectacular. I had no idea babies could achieve something as wondrous as pooping halfway up their backs. And when she’s done, there’s a little mischievous smile that, though I know is from relief, seems like it just might also have a bit of pride mixed in.
Kanał
Only a Pole could make a movie like Kanał (Canal, 1956). Such resigned nihilism can only arise from a country that has literally both ceased to exist (the Partitions) and been razed completely (Poland 1939-1940).
The second in Andzrej Wajda’s trilogy about World War II, Kanał tells the story soldiers in the Polish Home Army who were encircled by Germans during the last days of the Warsaw Uprising. Ordered to retreat, the 44 soldiers try to escape via the sewer system. Most of the film takes place in that most unimaginably horrid location: encircled by the enemy above, surrounded literally by s— below.
While at first glance Kanał seems to be a film about Poles resisting the Nazis, it’s equally — if not more — a critique of the lack of Soviet intervention during the Warsaw Uprising. The common Polish view is that the Soviet army camped out on the eastern bank of the Vistula and did little if anything to help the Polish soldiers. Some historians, it seems, dispute that account, but having lived in Poland and married a Pole, I am partial to the Polish view (and, generally speaking, the majority view, I believe). In that sense, it’s a minor miracle that the film made it past the censors, as it not only lacks a show of communist brotherhood but even hints at the opposite.
Certainly not a movie for simply “kicking back,” but well worth viewing.
Limits and Liquids
We went to visit family yesterday. This meant a lot of time in the car, which meant, for L, a lot of time in the car seat.
We discovered, much to our surprise, that L doesn’t really like the car seat as much as tolerate it. Imagine — she doesn’t like being strapped into a virtually immovable position for hours on end.
We think liquids might help, because she seemed to cry much less violently during that last hour when she was working on a bottle of tea.
In Poland, in summer, potatoes — those ever-present tenants of the Polish table — are always served with fresh dill. All told, I had to scrape of pounds of it during my years there, and no one could understand that I just don’t like the stuff.
“Tea!? You give your 5-month-old tea?” I can just hear the voices now. Well, to call it “tea” is really a stretch. It’s a special granulated herbal concoction J brought from Poland with her. It’s made specially for infants, and it’s made from dill and aniseed. To my nose, it stinks like the dickens, because I don’t like either one. But the girl likes it, and it eases her stomach, and it will undoubtedly ease time in the car.
After all, K and I buy green teas for the road. Why shouldn’t she have something to drink to?
Maybe it’s just one of those paradigms you slip into when your baby is breastfed. Additional drink is like additional food — unnecessary. What we’re learning is that that is only true — duh — for the first four or five months.
Subtle
When I was in Poland, I eventually reached a point in my linguistic development at which I understood everything going on around me. It wasn’t fluency, because in any given sentence there might be one or even two words I didn’t know, or couldn’t immediately place, but I learned that understanding 100% of the language doesn’t mean understanding 100% of the words spoken.
Once I reached that linguistic milestone, it felt I’d always been at that point. It felt like I’d always been able to understand everything, even though I knew it wasn’t the case. Like swimming and reading, understanding Polish was something I couldn’t remember what it was like not to be able to do. (What an awful example as a teacher I’m setting with that sentence! And this one…)
Today, we went to see my cousin and her recently-adopted baby. The little girl — S — is six weeks. She’s about a pound heavier than L when she was born. And I looked at that little girl, her eyes still mostly closed, and I couldn’t imagine L being that size. I know she was. We have the pictures to prove it. But, as with the language, I just feel she’s always been this size; that she’s always been able to hold her head up; that she’s always been able to look around, to smile, to cry from boredom, to giggle, to coo.
And then, a little voice: “That is how you’ll wake up one morning and realize she’s going off to college and for a brief moment, feel complete unprepared for it, and feel she’s completely unprepared for it.”
It’s not quite synonymous with “taking for granted,” but it’s awfully close.
And I think that’s one reason why I’m trying so hard to write in this silly blog so often. To mark the lines of development; to make a record for later — to make an online baby book.
Besides, what else am I going to write about in my newly realigned universe?
Entropy
The first time I was in Polska, I started making a little ‘zine that I’d mail out to friends and family. I called it “Entropy.”
I remember that yesterday evening and wondered who had “entropy.com.” I knew it wouldn’t be available, and I typed “entropy.com” in the address bar.It re-directed me to “entropy.ie”.
“Entropy — Secure Networking.”
I’m not sure how much faith I’d put into a networking security company that’s taken its name from a principle of decay.
What would its logo be? A frayed networking cable?
Anticipating user confusion, the company included this explanation:
Conall Lavery founder of Entropy decided upon the name after reading a book called “The Crying of Lot 49” by the American author Thomas Pynchon.
In the book the professor uses the two theories of Entropy (thermodynamics and communications) and invents a perpetual motion machine that is driven by telepathy.
There are various definitions of Entropy.
According to the Collins dictionary, Entropy means “a thermodynamic quantity that changes in a reversible process by an amount equal to the heat absorbed or emitted divided by the thermodynamic temperature.”
In my view, that doesn’t help clarify things that much.
Cut!
L’s had a lot of hair since she was born. Recently, we decided that it had grown too long — at least the little lock that was swooping down into her eyes.
First step: wet the hair and get it standing up — as Elmo looks on…
Next: cut it. Given L’s propensity to jerk suddenly when a flash fires, I didn’t actually get a shot of that.
Finally, comb it.
And in the end, she looks like one of those wet-hair-look Euro-trash boys (and I say that with tongue firmly in cheek).
All she needs now is a tracksuit and she’d fit in perfectly at any Polish soccer match…
Note To Future Parents
When playing with your child, some common sense is in order. After eating, for example, is not the best time for bouncy play.
That’s fairly logical, but there’s a derivative from this: after eating (up to, say, an hour after), avoid any play that places the child’s head directly above your head.
As a newly washed car is to a bird, so your face, with it’s stupid, wide-open-mouth smile, is to your child…
Perspective II
A (redacted) email I got today:
I just wanted to get back with you to thank you for your interest in [our high school] and to inform you that we have decided to go with another candidate. I wish you the best as you continue to positively impact the lives of young people.
Amazing how an earlier, accepted job offer can mitigate such an email. It is, in short, nice to be that “another candidate” for a change.
Funny thing is, though this letter reads like I’d interviewed for the position, I’d never even spoken to the principal.