Jane update: rainbows, unicorns, Skittles, and baby logic

Time for a brief Jane update!

Jane is now 9-1/2 months old. We went for her well baby check-up a couple weeks ago, and of course, she is as healthy as can be! Developmentally, she's about two months ahead of schedule, waving "bye-bye", helping when being dressed, turning the pages of a board book, and understanding "No No." In addition, rainbows and unicorns appear any time she passes gas, and when she poops, all we find are Skittles in the diaper. Yes, she's just that perfect.

Jane's a very playful little girl, and will initiate a game of peek-a-boo by hiding behind the bed and then popping her head up and shrieking with laughter, then darting back behind the side of the bed, or she will fight you for the last Cheerio on her plate, laughing when she pries it from under your finger and quickly shoving it into her mouth before you can get it back.



This past week, in an effort to redirect her when she's been willful or crabby, I'll play a song I recently downloaded (Barrel of a Gun by Guster), and I'll scoop her up in my arms to dance around the room with her. She grabs my shirt as I bounce and twirl her around. I've done this a half-dozen times to the same song, not giving it much thought. Then this afternoon, Steve was watching Jane, giving me a break and a chance to work out. When I turned on my music to work out, Barrel of a Gun came on. Jane was right in the middle of sneaking over to the cat food bowl to purloin some kibbles when she heard the music, and suddenly stopped mid-crawl. She sat up on her knees, feet behind her and looked at me, then slowly started swaying back and forth to the beat of the music as a smile crept across her face. This was the dance song, and she knew it. She raiser her arms to me, so that I would pick her up and twirl her around, which I readily did. Such fun.

This afternoon I let her crawl around outside, which she loves to do. We have a fenced yard, and she will sometimes cruise along the fence where she might pick up a piece of the bark that lines the flower beds. As it is, everything goes in her mouth. If she could manage it, the cat would go in her mouth. For several months now, I've chased her down and removed all non-food items, such as leaves, grass, flowers, bark chips, lint, and paper goods from Jane's mouth. For a while, I would drop pieces of lettuce outside, in hopes that Jane would choose that to put in her mouth over random dried leaves in the courtyard. Finally, I think I've managed to channel that mother of three small children: I swept the area clean, then I chose two large chips of bark that would be too large to choke on, rinsed them off, and placed them in Jane's path. At least she would chew on "sanitized" bark... As it was, rather than fight me to keep them in her mouth, once I OK'd the activity, she lost interest in eating the bark.

This may seem like good news, but I know better. She's already copped the attitude of: "Well, if Mom disapproves, it must be fun!" and the corollary, "If Mom thinks it's OK, it must be pretty boring."

Yeah.

Where's that Dr. Dobson book again?

Sorry, Jane. No kibbles for you.

Jane's May recap

Jane had a busy month! Here's a recap of the more significant activities.

May 1 - Jane is six months old now. She is rocking back and forth on her hands and knees, the pre-cursor to crawling. She will lie on her stomach and turn herself around, or roll to where she needs to be. We start baby-proofing the rooms of the house, knowing that crawling is imminent. She has started eating rice cereal as of this week, which she eats without protest and seems to enjoy.


May 6 - Jane tries homemade sweet potatoes. She is a very good eater. So far, she has rice cereal in the morning, and then rice cereal and sweet potatoes in the afternoon. Otherwise, she's still getting her primary nutrition from a bottle.

May 9 - While she is not fully mobile yet, Jane is dragging herself small distances. She will scoot herself in the direction of a toy placed just outside of her reach. (video)

May 12 - I lay a piece of yarn on the carpet to see if Jane has the manual dexterity to pick it up. I'm surprised and delighted when she not only picks it up, but switches it from hand to hand. (yarn video)

May 14 - Jane crawls in earnest today. It's only a few feet before she stops to sit, but she is crawling.

May 20 - Even though Jane has been crawling for less than a week, she will support herself on her legs in something of a downward dog position. We hope she will crawl longer than two months before she starts walking. She begins to go up the step from the living room to the entryway.



May 21 - Jane's first real road trip, from San Diego to Albuquerque. We spread the trip over two days to minimize the time confined in the carseat to as minimum as possible. Jane travels well, provided we stop to let her crawl around and have some time out of the car seat. In Albuquerque, the other children are not really on Jane's radar. She registers that there are other little people, and watches them intently, but does not really interact.


May 25 - Jane tries homemade peas. Rejected! I substitute the store bought "Garden Medley," which causes her to scrunch up her face, squint her eyes, and shake her head. I laugh long and hard, which catches Jane's attention. She continues to eat the garden medley, but also continues making faces and actually joining me in the laughter, as if she is suffering through these new veggies so that she can amuse me. I would not be surprised. She smiles and laughs often, and enjoys making others smile and laugh too.

May 27 - Kevin, one of the grandfather types at the cafe, teaches Jane to clap her hands. (clapping video)

May 28 - Jane is well-behaved for Ascension Liturgy, then is miserable and fussy all afternoon. I feel the first tooth break through on her bottom gum in the late afternoon and finally understand why she is so miserable. By the next day she is fine, and back to her happy self.

May 29 - A busy week for Jane, she closes the week by successfully maneuvering herself down the step from the entryway into the kitchen. (step video)

Jane plays by herself rather well, enjoying best her taggy dog toy and a little plush tiger that roars when squeezed. She likes music, and will usually quiet down to listen if she is protesting a nap in her crib and a classical music CD is played. She is very aware of her surroundings, and will often crane her neck to see things that catch her eye. If we go into a restaurant, she will usually notice the turning ceiling fans before we do. Most of all, she is a happy, curious, very contented child.

I am officially a Mom

I've been Jane's primary caregiver for five months now. I can tell you what each of her distinct squeals and yelps mean. I can tell when she's hungry and even when she needs to pee. But I really FELT like a mom the day I found a toy under the seat of my car.

Water bottles, bicycle chain lube, stray packet of energy gel... these are things I find under the seat of my car. Not toys. Especially not little stuffed pigs that make a noise when you shake them. The metamorphosis had occurred. I had found a toy AND a stray packet of energy gel. Cool.

Then a few weeks later, I went to bed one evening after Jane and I spent a lazy morning playing in our jammies. I rolled over to get comfortable and discovered something in my bed that was not my bed nor the cat. There was a toy in my bed. Socks I'm used to finding, but this was a first. Wow. This is really different, but kinda cool. A toy in my bed and a little reminder of our mommy-daughter fun that morning. I really knew I was a mom then.

But nothing prepared me for the realization that my life had changed forever when I returned from changing Jane in the restaurant restroom to the table where my mother and I were enjoying lunch. Just as my fork was lifted to my lips, I glanced down to find a little yellow poop smudge on my T-shirt. I knew I was REALLY a mom when I just sighed and kept on eating.

Yep. I'm a mom.

Jane's Baptism

Jane's baptism was really beautiful. In the Russian Orthodox manner, by the end of the service no baptismal stone was left unturned, so to speak. Combined with the liturgy, the baptismal service takes almost two hours. Since many people are not familiar with Eastern Orthodox Christian baptism, I'll tell about it here.

Upon entering the church, you see the baptismal font next to a table with the items that will be blessed or used in the baptism.


Jane Anne was born on Oct 26, 2008, almost 101 years to the date from her great-grandmother's birthday. My Grandmother Annie Jane, in whose honor we named Jane, was born Oct 29, 1907. Jane Anne will wear Grandmother's century-old baptismal gown for the service.

The baptismal service begins in the narthex (entryway to the church), just before the nave (main body of the church). The parents are largely not a part of the service, as the focus is on the one being baptized and the Godparents.

Traditionally, the Godparents are not related to each other nor to the one being baptized. In choosing Godparents, Steve and I consider which two families we would like to graft into ours to be a source of Christian advice, encouragement, and mentoring to Jane in the future. We choose Levan and Tanya, and hope that we do as well with Jane as they have with their children.

In the narthex, Levan and Tanya stand before Fr Alexander and, on Jane's behalf, will voice the responses to the prayers he says. Fr Alexander breathes gently into Jane's face, makes the Sign of the Cross over her, and lays his right hand on her head. The service begins with three exorcisms, followed by a prayer of acceptance.

By way of explanation, this synopsis comes from the St Barbara Greek Orthodox Church website:

The Sacrament of Baptism is divided into two distinctive services. The first service takes place in the Narthex of the Church and is known as The Service of the Catechumen. It is during this service that several things occur, first, three prayers of exorcism are read, asking God to “empower,” the soon to be baptized Christian, “to triumph over Satan and his vile spirits so that having found mercy with You, (God), they may be found worthy of Your immortal, heavenly mysteries and offer up glory to You O God….”

The Priest then asks God to bless the soon to be baptized Christian with a guardian angel to guide, guard and protect them all the days of their life.

Once the catechumen prayers are completed, the Godparents recite the Symbol of Faith (the Nicene Creed), and enter the nave. At this point, the Divine Liturgy begins.

In the picture below, you see the baptismal font with candles, Fr Al reciting the prayers, Tanya holding the candles, and Levan holding Jane who is wrapped in a white towel.

Father blesses the baptismal water and the oil that will be used to anoint Jane. Then he traces the Sign of the Cross on her with the oil, from head to toe, saying:

(on the forehead)
The servant of God Jane Anne is anointed with the oil of Gladness, in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

(on the chest and between the shoulders)
Unto the healing of soul and body.

(on the ears)
Unto the hearing of the faith.

(on the hands)
Thy hands have made and fashioned me.

(on the feet)
That she may walk in the way of Thy commandments.

After Jane is anointed, she is taken for baptism. Holding her upright and facing toward the East, Fr Al will immerse Jane in the baptismal water three times, saying:

The servant of God, Jane Anne, is baptized in the name of the Father, Amen (immerse). And of the Son, Amen (immerse). And of the Holy Spirit. Amen (immerse).

This is generally where the otherwise peaceful and quiet child is shocked into consciousness. If the child hasn't cried up to this point, the water usually prompts him. We are all amazed that Jane doesn't make a peep and hardly even blinks.

After the immersion, I meet Tanya in the back of the church to clothe Jane in Grandmother Annie's gown while the choir sings Psalm 32.

All dressed and back inside the church.

The liturgy continues, as the baptism is woven into the service. Tanya brings Jane back into the nave, where Fr Al administers the Order of Holy Chrismation, in which she is anointed with Holy Chrism, a consecrated oil. With a brush, he traces the Sign of the Cross on her forehead, over her eyes, nose, lips, on both ears, her chest, her hands and feet, each time saying:

The seal of the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Fr Al the leads the Godparents and Jane in a circular procession around the Baptismal Font while everyone sings:

As many as have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ. Alleluia.

The Prokeimenon is read. Today happened to be Steve's day to read, so he was able to read for Jane's baptism:

The Lord is my light and my salvation: Whom then shall I fear?

The liturgy continues, and the Epistle and Gospel are read. Her Godparents continue to hold Jane until the time comes to "wash off" the consecrated oil, which Fr Al does by wiping it with a small sponge. He dips the sponge in water and sprinkles Jane, then wipes the chrism from her face, head, chest, and other places where she has been anointed saying:

You are justified. You are illumined. You are sanctified. You are washed: in the Name of the Lord, Jesus Christ, and by the Spirit of God.

You have been baptized. You are illumined. You have been Chrismated. You are sanctified. You are washed: in the Name of the Father and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Immediately following this, Fr Al says another prayer over Jane asking God to bless her who makes her first offering "shorn from the hair of her head."

O Lord our God, who, through the fulfilling of the baptismal font, by Thy goodness dost sanctify them that believe on Thee: Bless this child here present, and let Thy blessing descend upon her head. And as Thou didst bless David the King by the hand of thy Prophet Samuel, bless also the head of this Thy servant Jane Anne, by the hand of me, a sinner, inspiring her with thy Holy Spirit; that as she increases in stature, and even unto a ripe old age, she may ascribe glory unto Thee, and behold the good things of Jerusalem all the days of her life.

And with that, Father takes his tiny scissors and cuts small pieces of hair from Jane's little head in the shape of a cross.

After the Baptism has been performed, Fr Al goes to the back of the church and takes little Jane between his hands, as you would hold a child you were handing over to someone else. He enters the nave and raises her aloft, making the Sign of the Cross with her body, saying:

The servant of God, Jane Anne, is churched: In the Name of the Father and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

As he walks through to the middle of the nave, he says:

She enters into Thy house, to worship towards Thy Holy Temple... In the midst of the church shall she sing praises to Thee...

Finally, Father takes little Jane and lays her gently at the top of the steps leading to the sanctuary. She lies there quietly as the choir sings the Prayer of St Simeon:

Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, according to Thy Word. For mine eyes have seen Thy salvation, which Thou hast prepared before the face of all people; a light to enlighten the Gentiles, and to be the glory of Thy people Israel.

As the song comes to an end, Father asks if there is anyone who wishes to claim the child. Steve and I walk up to the steps and I scoop her up into my arms.

Jane receives her first communion at this time, and is recognized as a full member of the Church. She will begin to go to confession when she is old enough to reason, somewhere between five and seven years old. Orthodox confession is much like a brief counseling session with the priest to help you put your thoughts and actions back on course, not simply a recitation of your wrongdoings.

Shortly after communion, the service does, in fact, end. Eastern Orthodox are not known for doing anything in half-measures. At the end of the service, you KNOW that something really significant has happened.

After the service ends, we all go over to the parish center for a reception. The Godparents have taken care of all the details I would have forgotten about, like the cake. Tanya has remembered that I'm a pie girl and has no less then three pies waiting for me, even rhubarb!


For the reception, I change Jane out of the century-old baptismal gown and into one made especially for her by my friend Mary Jane. Now Jane will have one to hand down to her grandchildren.



Here we are with the immediate family, the Drexlers and the Gillilands.


The church family: Nino & Levan, Steve, Tanya & Dale, Jane and I.

And our adoptive family, Steve, Jane and I with the girl whose immense love and courage made our adoption of Jane possible, Jane's birthmother Karinna.

Thank you to everyone who made the day possible: Fr Alexander, Nino and Levan, Tanya and Dale, Bonnie and Harford Drexler, Patricia and Jerry Gilliland, and Karinna.

more info on Orthodox Christian Baptism can be found here.

Sunny Ride with my Baby Girl (Jane)

originally posted on the Bruise Chronicles


Jane Anne, my new still-under-warranty baby girl burst on the scene in late October. Before she was even born, I purchased the Burley trailer and began practicing towing a sack of potatoes. I probably should have dressed up the sack of potatoes with a little hat and tiny sunglasses, but I digress.

I was nervous about taking little Jane more than a few minutes from the house... I mean, what if she started crying or something?? You new parents, you know what I'm talking about, while you parents of two or more just chuckle and roll your eyes. I know what you're thinking...

And this is where I force myself into "Mom of three small children" mode as a coping mechanism. See, a mother of one infant behaves a certain way. She jumps when her kid makes the slightest noise. But a mother of THREE, now, there's a rock. She can have one kid banging pots and pans with a spoon, another eating dirt, and the third screaming for a bottle, and all she'll do as she makes her way calmly to the kitchen is pick up the dirt-eating kid and tuck him under her arm, grab a dishrag to wrap around the spoon to muffle the noise, and sing louder than the crying kid while she prepares the bottle. Mom of one gets rattled when her infant sneezes once, while mom of three snickers and mutters under her breath, "Amateur."

I told myself that if Jane cries while in the Burley, and I know she's not in any real distress, I'll just make my way calmly to the nearest stopping point, address the issue, and continue the ride. I'll have to channel a mom of three small children to do this, but it won't be too much of a stretch. I've been channeling a ten-year-old boy since I started riding mountain bikes. What's one more person?

In preparation, Jane and I took a trip first around the neighborhood, which went very well.

In the infant snuggler inside the Burley bike trailer.

Laura and Jane riding around the neighborhood.

We went around the neighborhood for ten minutes on our first outing, then it was just a matter of making longer and longer trips.

On Sunday afternoon, we bundled up well and made our way to Donny's Cafe.

Cute happy kid.

By the time we arrived, despite a few bumps in the road, Janie was fast asleep.


It occurs to me as I write this, that many of these pictures of a kid in a Burley trailer look alike, but as a new mom, I think I'm bound by contract to show you every last one of them. Oh oh!! Here's another...


So TODAY was the big day of lots of errands. First, we went to Target to pick up some photo Christmas cards...


The folks at Target were great about letting me bring my bike and trailer into the store and park it while I picked up my photo cards. Thanks Target people :)

Then we went to Donny's Cafe where we both had snacks.


Refreshments...


After the cafe, we stopped at the bank...


Then we had one last stop to mail a CD to a friend.


Once we had all our errands done, we headed home, taking advantage of the bike path and the chance to get a little dirt under the tires.



It was a great day to be in San Diego.



The only problem we ran into was on the way home. There's this cactus called cholla that grows just about anywhere in the Southwest. This cactus is the reason that I carry pliers in my camelbak when I'm mountain biking. It tends to break off at the slightest perceived provocation and jump into your path, clinging to anything it touches, and breaking off into smaller pieces that stick to other parts of you and your bike.



This is what we came upon today, and before I knew it, I had rolled right over a small chunk that had strayed into the street. The tire of the Burley hit that bad boy and I knew immediately that I had to get it out and then get home before the tire went flat. Now I'll have to add pliers to my list of things I carry in the Burley.

We made it home with air to spare. Yay!! All in all, a great morning of work and play that I was able to share with my little girl.

New Baby in Da House

originally posted on the Bruise Chronicles

Jane Anne Drexler


It's been a long and arduous journey... and I've only got as far as my own front door. The journey is only beginning.

By the grace of God we have an adopted newborn in the house. Jane Anne was born on Oct 26, 2008, at about 11:30 am.

8lbs 11oz, 19"

I don't know why these are always the things that people ask. Probably because it's really all we know about her at that point. The day she is born, we go to see her in the hospital. I am reduced to sobbing tears when the birth-mother places her in my arms.

I tell the guys at work that I will come back to the shop to work if we leave the hospital early enough. When it looks like we will not be getting back early, I call the shop.

"Cisco, I just wanted to let you guys know that I won't be coming in today after all," I explained, "I'm still at the hospital."

"The hospital! What happened?" he asks. It's a legitimate question if you know me and how I tend to ride my bike.

"Nothing. The baby we're adopting was born today. We're here to see the baby," I tell him.

"Oh! A baby! Boy or girl?" he asks with excitement.

"A little girl. Jane Anne," I tell him.

"Oooohh! I little girl! Is she beautiful?" he asks expectantly.

I blink. This baby has just been smushed through the Play-Dough Fun Factory of Life and looks like... um, a newborn. What kind of question is that?

"Cisco, she's three hours old. She still looks like a semi-reconstituted prune. Ask me again in a few days, OK?"

I'm still on edge about seeing the baby, because she's technically not ours, and will be with the birth-mother and not in our custody for another week. I will be an emotional wreck for the next 24 hours, knowing that I'm expected to visit the baby again the following day, ooo and aaaah over this little child that is not mine, then detach from her at the end of the visit, knowing that anything can happen in a week while the birth-mother nurses her and cares for her. This week will be difficult for everyone.

I'm forced to re-focus, put my own angst aside, and remember that this healthy baby girl has made her debut on the planet, full of life and unexplored potential!

Here's a pic from the hospital.

The week following her birth is torturous for us. Although the birth-mother is an amazingly focused and goal-oriented individual, and is determined to give up the baby for adoption knowing that she would not be able to provide her a stable two-parent home, we must prepare ourselves for any outcome, including the birth-mother's choice to keep the baby.

According to the laws of California, the birth-mother has thirty days to change her mind, from the day we take custody. I will be mentally preparing myself to take care of God's child, not my own, knowing she could be taken from me any time between the day I get her and about Dec 6.

Steve and I take custody of Jane on Nov 2, 2008.


Asleep in my arms.


Mr "New Dad" prepares for an afternoon nap with Janie on Monday, the day after we bring her home.


It's been almost a week, and I must say, we totally won the baby lottery. She's not fussy, but only cries when something is going on - she's hungry or wet or uncomfortable. She started to open her eyes to the world and hold her head up on Tuesday, Nov 4. It looks like she might have hazel or brown eyes.

She has long beautiful fingers - perfect for playing the cello or piano.

She hasn't started smiling yet, but it won't be long. She tends to furrow her brow in what I affectionately call her "perma-scowl," that appears on her face when her eyes are open and her newborn blurry vision can't quite make out the smudge in front of her. But we are all happy smudges, looking for the can of "scowl-be-gone."

As I tell my stories, centered around my latest adventure heroine, I realize the entire shape of my world has changed. It's been over ten paragraphs and I haven't said anything about bikes or bruises or crashing or pain. I spent the entire morning on Wednesday cleaning the house and watching the baby and feeding the baby, and planning dinner. When it occurred to me that this was how I was filling my day, I stopped short, stuck for a moment right in that moment. The remarkable thing was not that I was there, but that I was enjoying being there.

This image kinda sums it up for me:


Like the dog with the stupid grin, I've been domesticated. And it's really not too bad.

Finally in "News of the New Mom that you Just Can't Make Up" here's a morsel for you. It was 4:45am on Friday morning. I had been up with the baby since about 3:30am when she awoke hungry and I got up to nurse her (Yes, she's adopted and I'm nursing. Ah, the miracles of modern science.)

Anyhoo, she's all done, but she has the hiccups, and I can find NOTHING that will help her out. I put her on my shoulder, I walk around the room bouncing, I pat her on the back, and just when we get nice and settled down and I think she's going back to sleep... HIC!

I'm exhausted and no longer thinking straight. I've tried everything. Finally I bring her to bed with me, hoping that... I dunno, the power of my charismatic sleepwaves will overtake her and she'll fall asleep. Her hiccups awaken Steve.

"Honey, the baby has the hiccups," he tells me quietly.

"Yeah," I mutter sleepily, "I'm hoping they'll go away."

"Put her vertical," he suggests.

Not moving from my prone position, I prop the baby up vertically, as she flops over onto me with a HIC!

"Honey," Steve says, now awake, "you want me to take her?"

"Oh, would you? I just can't anymore," I mutter.

"Of course. That's what I'm here for," he says sympathetically. He takes the baby and I fall immediately to sleep.

When I awaken, I stumble into the living room where Janie and I had been a few hours before trying to deal with her hiccups. That's when I see it: the little mini paper bag I had found, and in desperation had tried to get her to breathe into to stop her hiccups. This is what they call a "facepalm moment." Somehow at 4:30 in the morning, trying to get a newborn to breathe into a tiny paper bag to cure the hiccups seemed like a reasonable thing to do.

Sleep deprived? Naw... just um, resourceful!


"Here, Janie, breathe into this." HIC! (yawn) "Trust me."