Mona Lisa Smiles

T he Bean does not smile much. This was the first smile ever captured on camera. She was waking up from an afternoon nap. Her smiles are about as rarely spotted as the Loch Ness Monster and even when I manage to spy the corners of her lips lift, I think it is my imagination. Or even more cruelly dismissed by Dr. Smith, as "Just gas.", during her first few weeks of existence.
I'd like to think it wasn't that she was going to be humorless but that she just lacked the muscular strength to actually pry apart those big cheeks in order to eek out a smile. Like parting the Red Sea. I wonder how many little smiles she has been throwing the universe at large and how many I have missed. I am like a big game hunter, forever carrying my trusty Sony Cybershot in pursuit of the ever elusive smile.

These days she seems alittle less stingy in the mornings and her smiles flow more freely. Nothing beats looking into her little bassinette and having her look up at you with all the expectations of "They did remember me. Whew. Maybe I can get some breakfast now." And then a sweet little smile of recognition. Since the photo of her first smile was taken, she has been smiling alittle more with each day, but still eyes the camera suspiciously. Why can't my mom look at me without that funny little black metal thing with the blinking orange light. To which, mom would say, one day when you have your life so well documented, you'll have me to thank, that each precious nanosecond you were in existence was relished and adored. As evidenced by these 1000 volumes.
















Sometimes she flashes us a smile downright baroque in its exuberance, big brown eyes, drippy saliva pools on the edges of her mouth, big pink gums, and flared little nostrils and we just can barely stand not giving her the kind of hug which would crush her little bones. Brochures should have been printed out warning new parents of the dangers of a baby's smiles.


The other day, not only did I witness the full fledge smile, but I actually heard laughter emanating from those cheeks. A full 5 seconds of bubbly infectious laughter, pure joy. It was the most amazing sound I had ever heard. The Bean actually laughed, not exactly a full bellied guffaw but a beautiful little giggly laugh of complete joy. It's been precisely a week and I've been trying to recreate the circumstance that lead to that first little laughter (namely kissing her 4 times on each fat cheek) but she is no performing monkey. Sure, her mouth opens and closes in the shape of an O and she smiles but no sounds come out of it. She has teased me so with the voice she has yet to reveal. Our days are often filled with words in every medium imaginable- and circumstance. They have become the white noise of our lives, it takes so much for us to really begin to appreciate the significance , beauty and sound of each little word. When I heard her laughter, and her starting to utter little sounds like "El-la", "Ewwww", "Eahhhh", "Owwww", she makes me that much more excited about what are the things she will one day say, and for her to finally reveal to me what she is thinking, if I am lucky and she thinks me worthy.

Bright Lights, Big City

A beautiful Sunday (last day of summer to be exact), and we took Tiny into the city for some fun for a change and not because she needed to get her monthly checkup with Dr. Smith (a/k/a: Dr. Cruelty, the shotmeister who thinks by slapping on some Hello Kitty bandaids on her chubby thighs, that all the pain from the required shots would be forgotten...my ears are still ringing from the wails from the last visit). We cruised down Madison Ave., and checked out the overpriced shops for kids -um, well, duh.....there were onesies being sold for $40, ate a few very tiny cupcakey muffins, oogled at the fancy chocolate shops that sold chocolate bars flecked with bacon (had those, and they are sublime) and walked past gaggles of cops on patrol for the "Fifth Ave. Mile" race.



We met up with Aunty J, Mr. and Mrs. L, for a stroll in the ever crowded Central Park- complete with a million tourists, a man who was practically a symphony by himself, toy boat races, fat sparrows, kids clammering all over the Alice in the Wonderland statue, bikers, runners, babies in strollers, old people in wheelchairs, babies in strollers lined up with nannies gossiping..... such a change for Tiny from her usual morning walk w/ Grandma and Grandpa around our quiet little neighborhood park with an occassional dogwalker, strolling retirees and the one man who does little disco dance routine up and down the park steps in very short shorts with his walkman in hand. With Donna Summer on cassette, no doubt.







As we took Tiny to the Boat Pond, it occurred to us, this was her first big trip to Central Park, at all of 3 months plus 2 days. We thought her eyes would bug out of her head, but she seemed pretty blase over the whole thing, and as far as she is concerned, one park is the same as any other park. Trees, sky, clouds, birds, squirrels. She's sort of right. Just much more expensive real estate.







Enough of the fresh air and our tummies grumbling, we went to Cafe Boulud for alittle brunch. It was lovely (we enjoyed it even more so because since Tiny made an appearance, we dared not eat out in public for fear of any tantrums). We had an outdoor table and were very entertained by all the other diners (alot of very well coiffed and perfumed people- at one point, I had a hard time eating, since all I smelled was perfume). Tiny sat in her carriage and checked out the menu.










As much as she wanted to partake, she opted for her "usual".
Similac Advanced Formula....served by mommy. But don't think she wasn't eyeing the bread basket, which would had gone perfectly had she had teeth.



We had such a nice brunch, and even saw Barbara Walters saunter by, looking younger than I thought she would look. She stared straight ahead and walked like those models practising good posture. We could have stacked a heap of phone books on her head and they would have stayed perfectly balanced. Mrs. L told us at the last elections, they were on this ridiculously long line to cast their vote, and who comes strolling up to the lady manning the booths and asked. "Do you know who I am?" The woman said, "Yes." and BarbaraWawa proceded to tell her how busy she was and how she needed to be let to the front of the line. And she was. Unreal.


After our bellies were filled, we strolled back up Madison Ave., and this time the urge to shop for Tiny was weakened (our minds had probably gone soft from all the food) and Aunty J scored some very cute little outfits for The Bean, and even her cheap mommy got in on the act and bought a few pairs of socks and alittle white double breasted nautical jacket for her nibs (on sale, of course). And in one of the shops, who did we see, but Katie Couric who looked right at us with the "do you recognize me?" look and I hope you won't pester me for an autograph and of course we knew who she was, but being the NYers that we were, we ignored her. Maybe that's why celebs love living in NY, they know they would be ignored. But I did promptly jabber in Cantonese to my sis, that's the reporter from Channel 2.



Not a bad outing for The Bean at 3 months and 2 days. I'm going to start hanging out with her more often, she was like a celebrity magnet. Needless to say, she slept well that night when she got home.






Zonk.

Tiny B's in Love

Lullabys don't come naturally to me. My repertoire of songs that can be hummed or sung is very limited. Poor Roan was getting the Jeopardy questionaire melody hummed to her on a daily basis....no wonder she was not drifting off to la la land. She was probably feeling the pressure of a thousand pairs of eyes waiting for her to ask "What is the capital of Mozambique?"

Then I had a brillant idea, why not pop in a CD and sing along, it's like me singing an inept lullaby but accompanied by some serious artistes who can blessedly drown me out.

Like many other "grown ups", I don't have many opportunities to belt out any tunes....my neighbors are breathing a collective thankful sigh of relief and have put down their industrial size boxes of ear plugs. I think the last time anyone was "lucky" enough to hear my singing was my poor husband, D, trapped in our 2 week cross country trip from CA to NYC, and I had "treated" him to me singing along to "Aretha Franklin's Greatest Hits". I am surprised he didn't abandon me at some roadside rest stop due to his bleeding eardrums.

Roan and I start our little performance at 9:30PM to counteract her usual freakout session, where her alter ego, Ro-ANNNNN makes an appearance with much tears, wails and hyperventilation. And it has been working pretty well. She seems to just relax when the CD player is on, sometimes, I put her on the bed and I hold her legs or arms and move it to the melody. Sometimes she even opens her mouth and tries to copy me singing along. Sometimes I practice my boxstep dance steps (from Arthur Murray Dance Studio daze) with her in the room. She is almost always smiling when we have our sing-a-long hour. A nice break from her usual prison guard stern disposition.

So far, Billie Holliday's "Moonlight in Vermont"has been a favorite, followed by Ella Fitzgerald's A Little Jazz, and this week, we are doing Rickie Lee Jones. Roan loves Chuck E's in Love. I grab R's chubbola legs and we just have the greatest time, swaying to the song. Sometimes I think I enjoy these little groove out sessions more than The Bean.....but I guess she'll let me know when she can speak and say "Mom, zip it." I hope that day doesn't happen for a very long while.

Not a bad gig if you can get it

Not a bad gig if you can get it. Who wouldn't want to spend all day sleeping, eating, peeing, pooping, being read to, sung to, wearing cute soft fuzzy clothes and having everyone smile at you?
Yesterday, I read Roan her first book, "The Very Hungry Catepillar" and at 2.5 months she loved it. She sat up and paid attention, looked at all the pictures. It was so much fun, I wanted to read her the story all over again and she pushed the book way. I told DB what she did and he said "She's probably thinking, 'Mom, I got it.' " I better haul ass to Borders and buy some new books. Don't want to have to start reading her the dictionary. I guess there will be lots of firsts for her...first book, first walk in the park (did that a few weeks back and her eyes bugged out), first pants (her ass looked like one of those retirees in Boca, with her bumpy lumpy diapers underneath her pink stretchy gap pants- just missing some white shoes), first social visit outside the house to see out of town friends (she wailed for an hour during our 2.5 hr visit, was so relieved we were not in public but at our friends' hotel suite), first food (wow, this I am totally excited about for her....what to eat ...what to eat...), what must the world be like for her little self. Everything is brand new. No wonder babies are smiling all the time.