March and April 2008

Dear Friends and Family,

There's this scene I keep thinking about from "The Once and Future King" _ I know it's not high literature, but bear with me for a minute here.

The young King Arthur has, for his own safety, been brought up as a stable boy unaware of his heritage and given the nickname "Wart". One day he stumbles into Merlyn's cottage in the woods. And Merlyn asks 'Wart' whether they've ever met before, and the boy tells him, no, this is the first time. And he notices that the wizard, who is eccentric but kind, appears to be crying for a moment. Then Merlyn wipes his glasses and shows the boy around the cottage, which is full of weird funny stuff, and he goes on to become Wart's tutor.
I think the author leaves it up to the reader to figure out that for the wizard, who (mythology fans will remember) is living backward through time, the first meeting is actually the final goodbye to an old friend. Hence the tears.

So, that's what it feels like for me being around Zephyr, all the time.

We're constantly saying goodbye to the him-that-was. For me, loving him _ though he makes me laugh every day _ well, I guess I'd describe it as mostly pain. With some worry thrown in.

I feel so sorry for him as he suffers the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.

I worry he doesn't eat enough. The alternative would probably be worrying that he's too fat. I praise the stars that he appears to be a pretty normal kid. I feel a twinge of regret that he's not precocious.

Then of course, there's the physical pain he causes me. Lately, he's picked up the endearing habit of scratching my face in unguarded moments to see how I'll react if he gets at my eyes, or "tickling" me in the neck by pinching hard enough to leave bruises.

He turned two years old in March. Here are his vital statistics:

Height: large when squirming away from me; tiny when viewed running amongst other children. "Average" on the growth charts.
Weight: skinny
Eyes: blue
Hair: blond
Distinguishing features: lumpy pinky toe on right foot.
Habitat: Amsterdam and environs.
Likes: Music! Listening and attempting to play it. Swimming, dancing, watching videos on the computer; walking on the market; pretending to cook; putting on his own clothes (when possible).
Also: enjoys biking (being biked); motoring around on his little ladybug car; being carried; being read to; and is an enthusiastic climber. Sandboxes. Some slides. Light switches.
Friends: Isidoor; Younis; Emma & Sophie; Fern; Eloi & Valerie; Ame
Favorite foods: Tortellini! (and other pasta). Pizza! Lolly-pop! Aardbei (strawberry)!
Least favorite foods: None, but he's not a big eater. He's fascinated by SPICY, which has expanded from its original use (hot sauce) into all things with strong flavor.
Dislikes: Diaper change when no poopie; dressing or undressing unless it is clearly linked to something he wants (i.e., going outside). Swings. Motorized cars with noises.
Locomotion: Zephyr is a bit knock-kneed (we're going to ask his doctor about it) and runs around with a jerky gait, enough so that his hair bounces as he goes.
Common moods: Playful. Happy, crying, whining, hyper & giddy, especially when tired.
Less common: Reflective, suspicious, affectionate, awestruck.
Recent accomplishments: 1st and 2nd poopies in pot (only 2 years of potty training him left to go!) Moved to "real" bed without a fuss.


"Chocolate Surprise"

Synopsis: Zephyr is a healthy 2-year-old boy. He is talkative, using the Dutch language as his primary means of expression. After a rapid vocabulary expansion at 18-22 months, his grammar is progressing more slowly (some bi-lingual confusion?).
He has been observed singing to himself, on and off-key (genetics at work?). He is interested in other kids, but not very good at playing together with them. All the same, he misses visitors and repeats their names fondly as soon as they have gone. Zephyr is a little bossy and mean to other kids if they are sufficiently smaller.
Classic example: after taking away all toys touched by Fern (1-year-old daughter of Chris Deutsch) he ordered her to stop crawling.
He continues to behave reasonably well toward Zola, though he did run into her head with his plastic car recently. Accidentally on purpose.

After this long discussion of Zephyr, Zola fans will be relieved to hear a word or two about her: she's doing fine, and we just had a glorious weekend of her to ourselves while Zeph was staying with Hinke's parents (big adventure!).



She's a very smiley baby. She's a fairly good sleeper, same as Zeph. She strikes us as more robust and healthier than he was. Blonde hair appears to be coming in.

She's displaying quite a range of noises, but we have no idea what she's talking about. Except for when she screams. That one we know means "I'm hungry."



Both the kids enjoy baths!

Professionally I've managed to dodge doing much work for the past three months, but that's a story for another time. Meanwhile my semi-public "blog" is doing brisk business lately, thanks in part to my friends Mara & Arjan, but that's also a story for another time.

(In case anybody was wondering, this 'friendsandfamily' blog is shielded from the search engines; not so 'A Lethe.')

Hinke is fine, getting into the swing of things with two kids, being a happy "earth goddess mother" as our friend Lauren put it, and she's gotten herself hired for a part-time 'administrative' job at a travel agent starting this summer.

Where will we find the time to miss Hinke around the house? Ha, ha, 'tis to laugh.

Future plans are still very much in flux. One certainty is our trip to California, booked for July 5-20, with Hinke's parents and brother joining us from the 10th.

That's all for now,

Love,

Toby

Next: A few choices, surely

February 2008

(Zola)

Dear Friends and Family,

We plunged headlong into a mostly difficult and trying February _ tempered by a few golden moments.

(milady in bath)

After Zola's swift and seemingly smooth entrance, things went south fast. About three days after the birth Hinke was in excruciating pain due to complications with the procedure she had done during the birth, which I now know is called an episiotomy. I'll spare you the gory details, suffice it to say that she was flat on her back for most of two weeks (and is still not completely healed). And then there was the breast infection and the stomach flu...

Well, you didn't come here to hear me rehearse our ailments. But throw them on top of having a new baby and a high-stakes introduction to Zephyr (who mysteriously transformed into a little boy overnight), and visitors, and some pressure for me to return to work, and you have a recipe for a very full life.

(a visit from RAIchul! as Zephyr calls her _ and all blond-haired girls)

It seemed a major victory when we finally found time this week to go down to yell at the local printer in person and get the birth announcement off the press. They'll be in the mail shortly to many members of this list; nothing fancy _ second child syndrome, you understand.

Zola is thriving and alert, or so they said at her one-month checkup last Friday (already a month! only a month?). Since Zephyr is our main frame of reference: whereas he was a hair above average length, and two hairs underweight, she's spot-on average weight (4.2 kg _ a third again of her birthweight), and a hair beneath average length. So, string bean versus jelly bean.
We were looking at some pictures of Zephyr at her age, and their faces are so alike they could be twins. The only differences are her slightly upturned (!) nose and darker hair. By comparison, Zeph was bald for many months before finally coming out blond. We think he's gradually darkening now, by the way.

It's been remarkable to me watching Zephyr's reaction to Zola. First, it has to be said, he is absolutely sweet with her. He pats her head, he smiles at her and hugs her, and (heaven damn me for a fool if this jinxes things) he so far is not displaying any direct signs of jealousy.

(look what i found)
(big brother is watching you)
(hugguth)

Now indirectly, that's a different matter. He's suddenly become quite defensive and possessive about his toys, and often possessive of other kids' toys as well, especially if he manages to get his hands on them.

An anecdote: we were at the zoo recently (we have season passes) and he came across a challenger in approximately the same weight class. They squared off, glaring at each other, silently. If eyes were daggers ... but there was nothing for them to fight over, so it was just a standoff and parents on both sides stepped in before it came to any physical contact.

I tell the story because when I picked Zephyr up to get him out of the situation, he just clung to me fiercely, buried his head in my neck, and then finally relaxed in my arms and wanted to be carried around for a while.

That's a kid under some stress.

Hinke let me take care of Zola all by myself for a few hours on Saturday, and it went well; she seems to be higher maintenance than Zephyr was during the day, and easier at night (of course that's easy for me to say with Hinke doing the work). She loves sleeping on my chest. She even took a bottle of milk from me without protest.

I really don't know quite what to make of her yet.

Some administrative matters:
-Thanks for all the cards, congratulations and so on. We're a little backed up in our correspondence, and the house is a mess, so, um, make excuses for me and don't be shy to prod me if there's anything I'm forgetting to say or do.

-I'm gradually migrating my main address to lbsterling@gmail.com, though I'll be keeping hotmail, yahoo, and ap addresses all working.

-We are planning to be in California from roughly July 5 to the 17th (no tickets yet) and Hinke's parents and brother will probably be coming out with us _ if any of you are interested in meeting up, let us know!

That's all for now,

Love,

Toby

Next: A portrait of the Zephyr as a young monkey

(Pisces / The City Kid's Aquarium)

January 2008

Dear Friends and Family,

Arden Zola Sterling, calling name Zola, arrived today quite unexpectedly on her due date, Jan. 28, at 10 minutes past 3 p.m. local time in Amsterdam.

She's obviously a young woman in a hurry, since she was born less than a half hour after Hinke and I arrived at the hospital. Full details of the thrilling and fast-paced but otherwise relatively smooth birth will follow. Mother and child are doing fine.

Those of you keeping notes will recall that her big brother Zephyr was born at 10 minutes before 1 p.m. on his due date, March 16. Zola was 3.175 kg to Zephyr's 3.120 kg (7 pounds, 0 ounces vs. 6 pounds, 14 ounces); say what you will about Hinke as an incubator, she's nothing if not consistent.

First impressions of Zola: like Zephyr, she is so far a relatively calm baby; and of course she looks quite a bit like her brother did (as do all babies I suppose).

However, Zola appears to have darker hair and darker (blue) eyes than Zephyr did. Her face is rounder. Her cry is louder. Her nose is smushed off to one side a little bit, though of course that will straighten out somewhat in the coming days. Ten fingers, for those who might wonder, and ten toes.

We love her!



Take a moment to see the pictures Hinke's Dad Lambert snapped after our glorious return:

http://picasaweb.google.com/lambertvangils/ZolaArden?authkey=MB0a-5rDFMY



And now the birth tale:
Hinke woke up this morning with a feeling of cramps in her stomach, so we thought this might be the day. I went to work as normal, but she gave me a call at around 1 p.m. saying she was having contractions.

Having learned from previous experience that Hinke means what she says in re: contractions, I promptly came home from work, and decided to skip going to the store as we had idly discussed I might do.

In retrospect, I'm pretty damn thankful I didn't. When I got home, Hinke was really moaning, so we called a taxi, checked our arrangements for Zeph, and took off for the hospital.

I don't think the driver was too happy when Hinke screamed that her water had broken in his new Mercedes, but hey, what can you do?

Once we were in the birthing room, the doctors (and nurses and an intern? four of them, all women.) were quickly in agreement that Hinke's dilation was complete and the baby was coming out. I believe their exact words were "donderend naar beneden," which translates literally as "thundering down."

Having seen Hinke's labors with Zephyr I had my doubts, but I kept them to myself.

They were having her puff and push, and around this time Hinke gave me a look that I will never forget: The eagle staring down its prey. Battle berzerker. Shiva, the destroyer.

Just when I thought we were settling down for a long night, we saw a bulge near the bottom of her abdomen. At this point they _ how shall I say it? _ cut Hinke a bit to widen the hole, a common procedure here.

Hinke resumed pushing and next thing I knew I could see some hair coming out. The doctor reached in there and with the next push, flop! out came Zola. Just like on TV.



Hinke's in some pain now. But this was a much, much better birth than last time, believe you me. This time I actually did cut the umbilical cord & Hinke was totally awake and took Zola to her breast right away. And we were very happy. Still are.

Evidence:



The rest is really just details. A new doctor came in to stitch Hinke's wound. We alerted the grandparents. I had some time cuddling Zola as Hinke showered and cleaned up. Hinke's dad drove us home a couple of hours later.

Zephyr's initial reaction was pretty positive. "Baby!" he said. Kijken? (Can I see?). Ogen (=eyes, which he tried without malicious intent to poke). Then: Computer? (meaning, he had lost interest and wanted to watch Muppets clips on YouTube.).

And later, when the baby was crying, he observed: "baby crying. Computer?" He's off to spend a night or two with Hinke's parents, and I don't think he understands that unlike other babies Hinke has picked up in his sight in the past, this one isn't going to disappear shortly.

For now, Hinke and Zola are breastfeeding sleepily in bed, and I'm writing this.

As I come to the conclusion, like last time, the great wheel of life has made another turn. Sadly, Zola missed any chance of meeting her great grandmother Nora by just a few weeks; Nora's memorial ceremony was Jan. 27th, my mother's birthday.

For anybody wondering about the significance of Zola's name(s), well, they're multi-faceted by design; but from my perspective, they refer in part to Emile Zola's famous J'Accuse, a nod to Nora's political bent and my Jewish heritage. Arden, among other things, was Shakespeare's mother's name.



For the record, just as I'm glad Zephyr Noah missed many of the emotionally-laden days around his birthday, I'm glad Arden Zola dodged being born on the 27th itself: she will have her own races to run.

Love,

Toby

Next: double trouble

December 2007

Dear Friends and Family,

Hi ho, Happy New Year, everybody.

The times they are a changing ... As part of my New Year's adjustments, I've decided to move my monthly* letters over to "blog" format. Hence this and all future emails announcing the letter will just be "reminders" to come here if you want to read it.

That said, please let me know if this format is any trouble for you, and, as always, let me know if you want to opt out of my mailing list. This would be a logical / tactful moment, since you can always just come to look at the blog when the mood moves you...

Since this may be the last time I write about my life with Zephyr as an only child, I'm going to focus a bit on him; and because of the new format, I'm going to lean heavily on 'multimedia'. Thanks to Lambert, Nilmini, and Hinke for taking some of these pictures and films...

First, the cheeky monkey himself:



He can move chairs and nothing in the house _ but nothing _ is safe anymore. The destructive power of this child amazes me again and again. Don't let the smile fool you...

Here's a clip of Zeph sledding with a suspiciously spry Grandpa Van Gils. It gives a feeling of the depths of Dutch winter.



Here's two shots of him walking through the leaves on the "Northern Mountain" (which reaches its peak at approx. 60 ft above sea level) near the Van Gils/Meeus home near Arnhem.





Here's scruffy me and shiny Hinke playing the backup Angel chorus to Grandma Meeus's rendition of the "Story of Christmas" book Zephyr got on Christmas day.



And here's Grandma Meeus in action. She's quite a book-reader.



For the record, the Van Gils/Meeus family is deeply lapsed Catholic, and Zephyr is being raised by agnostic parents on both sides.

Note Hinke's red lipstick staining Zephyr's cheek.

Dutch Christmas is very subdued compared to the U.S. version. I like the Dutch way better, but I had a crisis of confidence about whether to give gifts to his U.S. cousins, something I had previously decided against.

My emotions are complicated _ I kind of want him (and me!) to have a foot in that world, and the cousins to know us, even though I don't fully embrace the rituals. Anyhow, we didn't do stockings or anything like that. Maybe next year...

Opening a present:



And finally, a clip of an awestruck Zephyr on my arm New Year's Eve:



Before you start questioning how on Earth I could let him stay up that late _ he was in bed at 8 p.m., but woke up about a quarter 'till twelve. I figured it was destiny.

You can hear me talking with some drunk woman who I think wanted to grab my camera to take a picture of me and Zephyr, but I didn't understand her (and she didn't realize I was filming).

Anyhow, long story short: Zephyr was not in the slightest unhappy or bothered by World War III going on all around us. In fact, he loved it and kept saying "keer, keer" (= again! again!) even as I was laying him back down a half hour later.

Hinke slept through it all like a log!

Here's to a happy and healthy 2008, I can't wait.

Love,

Toby

*Monthly, or roundabout.

Here's the outtake for our "Holiday Card" which we didn't send to practically anybody. Next year better. Now there's a resolution that can take its time to ripen...



Next: And then they were four