Dear Friends and Family,
"Look out! Here comes Zephyr."
-Zephyr, age 2.5
There's lots going on in the Amsterling household, but let's start below 1/2 meters (yard) and work our way up.
Two months is an eternity in kid time. The changes are most dramatic in Zola. She's now fully crawling, pulling up and furniture surfing _ I'm pretty sure she's hitting all her developmental milestones earlier than Zephyr did. Admittedly he was in a cast for part of the time, but still.
She continues to be the spitting image of her father, poor thing. Not because of that, I find myself enjoying her babyhood much more than I did Zephyr's. Her parents are more relaxed, so probably that helps her be the same. She's a pleasure to have around: healthy, laughs a lot, plays well, an easy eater, an easy sleeper, never (knock on wood) had diaper rash problems, etc. A jolly chubby Gerber (Dutch: Olvarit) baby.
Perhaps it's my imagination, but lately I see her grappling with the recognition that I exist. Hinke, obviously, is Zola's number one favorite. The baby is always craning her neck to see what she-of-the-red-hair, bearer-of-milk is doing. Zephyr is also a subject of great interest to Zola, especially when he is holding a toy or making loud noises (i.e., often). But as for me... I can just hear her thinking: "What's the point of that guy, anyway?
"He seems to be on our team. Hmm. Sometimes he's handy for moving me about and giving me bottles. Note to self: must research his function and role further."
Zephyr is getting more complicated, more interesting, and, sigh, acting his age. In addition to a general rebellious temperament, he can flare into bouts of anger and misery pretty quick when he doesn't get his way. More interestingly, I've witnessed him telling a few lies _ untruths, really. He is the worst possible source of information about, for instance, who was in attendance at nursery school on any given day. Anyone who was there, he usually doesn't mention. Anyone who wasn't there _ including pretty much anyone he has met or heard of in his life, may pop up. So: Jack Jack is at school sometimes, and so is Sascha, but the teacher never is. I can't decide if he's playing a game with me or what.
He's also taken to "hiding," which he does with no warning. He is surprisingly good at keeping quiet, given that the other 99 percent of the time he is either yelling or pounding something. Needless to say the abrupt disappearance of a child is a good way of inducing panic in a parent _ which may in fact be the motivation.
Here's just a couple of random things that jumped out of his mouth:
Q: Where did you find those blackberries, Zeph?
A: On branches.
and
Q: Wow, that new shirt is pretty cool Zephyr. Where did you get it?
A: The hamper.
"Wake up, spiders!" (shouted frequently at drainpipes. Because of the tale of the Itsy-Bitsy spider).
Many fellow parents have asked us _ sometimes with what sounds oddly like a note of hopefulness in their voices _ whether Zephyr has gotten jealous of Zola yet.
Well, to dwell on the negative, after a period of model behavior, he's becoming gradually more territorial. He makes a point of bossing her around and taking away almost anything she happens to be playing with. When he's in a hyper mode, and misbehaving, he is (intentionally) reckless in ways that are likely to hurt her...yet that preserve 'plausible deniability' for him. So, jumping on the bed right next to her while she's lying down, swinging things on strings around while in her general area, running right past her while she's trying to stand, etc.
Zola = oblivious to all this.
When she gets hurt, he makes a point of kissing her. If there's anybody watching.
I'm feeling glad, given all the turmoil in the U.S., that I didn't rush the family back to California this summer. My latest plan _ no laughing please _ is to spend the next year (or so) writing my novel. It's going to be historical fiction, based on the life of Alcibiades. Athenian history. The closest comparison with my idea that some of you might be familiar with would be "I, Claudius." This is an idea that I've been toying with since college graduation, so I'm really going to give it a try.
Yes, I'm serious. No, I don't have a publisher. Failure is an option. If it doesn't work, I'm prepared to bury this dream with an easy heart and move on with my life. But if I feel good about how things are going part way in, I will accelerate work and start looking for an agent. We'll see how things are going in a few months.
With an eye to this, I'm doing several things:
-Curtailing my "blog" dramatically
-Quitting as secretary of the Dutch "Foreign Press Association"
-And looking to move to a part-time job. More news on that as it comes in.
***
And since we were going vertically through the family: Hinke is fine too. She's settling into the rhythym of her job and fantasizing often and loudly about renovating parts of our house. A can of worms, it seems to me, but the gaping crack in our bathroom wall leaves me in a weak negotiating position.
Love,
Toby and crew
Next: Chapter One












