a blend of lives past and present

Hey there me lovelies. I am here to counter the monopoly that zendaddy has placed over this blog. Just joking. I am often very impressed that he has the presence of mind to be so eloquent. I have a difficult time putting up that front however, as you see, my brain is mush. And if you can imagine, I have been quite busy.

We were out of town for the better part of last week - first down to Kenting to do a Rescue Diving course in which I was re-initiated to the Great Blue - oh how I missed her! A little sad that I couldn't have spent the time with the fish (all four of them) instead of hauling our buddy, playing dead, back across a choppy surface, rescue breathing all the way, and then dragging him out of the water. What a workout! Good skills to have though and man do I hope I never have to use them! I am also very excited to spend my next and 100th dive with some of the life aquatic.


Leaving the boy for two full day slots was ok. Grace had him and thus there was nothing to worry about. He has also recognized her as a secondary care giver and in some ways he treats her better than me! Then again, she hasn't watched him in the later evening/early morning when he is MUCH more demanding. But soon enough well will send him over there for entire weekends I am sure. Thomas thinks I am reluctant to do this, and in some ways he is right. I have a hard time imagining my little guy sharing laughs with someone else! Even howling for someone to feed him - I'm coming honey!

But on the other hand I am more anxious to do so than he can imagine. Every single activity (including bodily maintenance) in my life has been drastically altered in ways that he can't even imagine. I take three minute showers, eat meals in under ten, sometimes five. I type leaning back with a baby stuck to my chest, held in place by a partially raised leg and my elbows. I have never been much of a girly girl thankfully, so the time to get ready for outings hasn't really changed that much. However, I do like to be presentable in the very least and more often than not I leave the house these days something like this:


Dawnelle and Jude going down the stairs. Jude looks the perfect image of a hip-hop-happening little babe. Dawnelle is...well, let's just say her clothes match. Dawnelle talking to herself. Or Jude - whoever is listening.
"Ok, he's been fed - check. Clothes are clean - check. Diaper clean - check. Everything (5 nappies, 1 spit rag, wetwipes, 2 thin blankets, a change (or two) of clothes, plastic bags, rash cream, pacifier, bottle of water), in the diaper bag - check. Got keys - check."
Dawnelle and Jude arrive at the first floor of the house.
"No wait, on the table up stairs."
Dawnelle and Jude go back up to the third floor.
"Wallet - check. Money - no."
Dawnelle and Jude go up the the fourth floor.
"Money - check. Okay baby, let's go!"
Dawnelle and Jude get down to the first floor.
"Jude's hat? In his room."
Dawnelle and Jude go back up to the fourth floor. Dawnelle puts hat on Jude's hat. They go back down to the first floor. They walk out the door (well, Dawnelle does. Jude's in the snugli). Half way down the street Dawnelle realizes that she hasn't combed her hair. She hesitates. She thinks better of it and continues on their way. A bedhead works better with the slobber on her shoulder anyway.


And it will be some time before the wee boy effects him in the same way. If only I can remember to be patient. With Thomas and myself that is. With the boy it is relatively easy - Thank goodness!


If you looked at the blog then you know we also went to Taipei. It went quite well although a totally different bag not having a homebase to plug into at the end of the day. We had our first poo-eruption experience, but thankfully it was when we got back to the hotel and Jude had his first shower as a result. (Don't worry, we bathe him regularly. ;) ) I enjoyed Taipei as well. I really have never really cared about that city either way, but this visit left me a bit nostalgic for more metro-cities back home. Don't get me wrong, the country is always better, but if one has to live in the city... Kaohsiung is alright. I guess I just miss a city with bookshops in which I can read at least 50% of the books in them and a street with cafes featuring ethnically diverse food and parks and whatnot. Kaohsiung has these, they are just scattered all over the city.

And now, more of the same. I find getting the boy into a schedule nearly impossible for two reasons: a) a baby does not run on any kind of schedule comprehensible to an adult and b) now that I am unemployed I have no schedule. I know most people function better with some sort of a routine, but for maximum productivity, I NEED one. Otherwise all the days just blur together. Ah, but where to begin?


I have taken my reading class back from Thomas (to his relief as well). We just finished Dahl's Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator and what a blast that was! These particular students are fairly fluent and although I have to explain a fair bit of the puns and jokes to them, it is worth my time to do so because they will understand after I do so. I can't wait until Jude is reading age! Then again, he will probably be a movie kid knowing my luck.


I am also going back to teaching Kung Fu to the kids, and even doing some training of my own soon. Wow, it's been so long. I had a great time with the KF kids today but it is obvious we will all need to do some reviewing. I will start taking a session or two a week now as well. Will be good to start kickin some ass again!


I have started doing a bit of stretching on my own and it's slightly disheartening, but not as bad as I thought. I have so far lost 16 of the 23kgs I gained - only 7 more to go! I have a belly still, a long time before I get my abs back, I know, but I can still do a lot of the twisty bendy stuff I was into before. Not circus-style mind you, but not too bad. Unfortunately a lot of the freaky stuff focused on lower back, abdomen flexibility and as you can guess, I am a little tentative about stretchin the ol' mid-section. But soon. I have started belly dancing again and have one post-pardum performance under my belt. And I have been working on performance pieces with my dance partner, the other teacher and bestest buddy Jodi. Hopefully we can get it together for the recital on December 16th. I may even get to leave the baby at home with his dad and go for some drinks with me friends - YAHOO!


Ah yes, the boy. Haven't talked about him yet. He is such an attention magnet. He and I approach a table of hip, happening young, childless adults and all conversation stops and turns to him. I am used to getting attention, just not indirectly. I can't help but think that I am missing some groundbreaking ideas from hitting the airwaves, or impeding people from sharing them as no one can concentrate when a baby is around. I find it strange to be on this end of it as i have never been a baby person myself. Not that I didn't spend a lot of time with kids; as the eldest in my family (immediate and extended on my mother's side) I have spent a lot of time taking care of, entertaining and being responsible for children. Maybe I could therefore be taking that sort of exposure for granted. As an "adult" I haven't really spent that much of my free time with kids, and as a teacher, on off hours I avoid them like the plague. Okay, not that vehemently but you can guess what I mean.


But this one is a conversation stopper to the world at large, as all babies are I am told. He is becoming more and more conversational as time goes on and as zendaddy said, it gives us great joy to see him smile and gurgle with him. I always swore I would never baby talk my kids, but as it turns out there are practical reasons to do so. That's what they hear the easiest and that's what they can say - imagine! - and so I have decided to get on the Guhgugroo Train. It is well worth it.


Jude is now two months and a week old - today actually, and we had our second visit to the doc yesterday. For all those interested, he is 6.7kgs (14lbs 11oz) and he is 60.5cm (23in) long. His eyes are a dark blue-ish grey with light blue rings in the center. He is slowly getting hair on the top that looks white blonde in sunlight and a bit darker otherwise. No teeth yet (mum's nipples rejoice!). He is very good at meeting people and is rarely fussy when we are out. It is only at home when he is so. But not after midnight, oh no, after midnight he is happy as a clam and lookin for some chat time. The beginnings of a social butterfly.... or a bar fly?


Unfortunately we haven't seen that much of our big dude in the past two months as he has been working very hard on their current theatre production. But he has definitely made his presence known in the past two weeks and it is wonderful to share this experience with him. And although I get insanely jealous of him leading the life we used to share out there, he is also making it possible for me to be here with our little dude and working very hard to do so. He absolutely adores the little guy and has already started teaching him bad habits, along with a few good ones. He is getting into this fatherhood thing more and more all the time, which relieves me of a bit of responsibility. There is nothing I like more than watching some movies with my gentlemen or watching Thomas speak with Jude - it brings tears to my eyes. And we wouldn't want the kid turning into too much of a mamma's boy now would we? ;)

The past few years have definitely altered my awareness of time, but nothing like having a baby. These past two months have vanished in a breath and yet it seems that I have left a lifetime somewhere off in the distance that I can vaguely glimpse with hand-shaded gaze, and the wind has long since blown dust over my tracks. Wild. Could it be the hormones? This new identity is a hard one to wear as well. It's like someone has gone into my closet, taken bits and pieces of my favourite items out, filled in the gaps with equally cool bits, but not necessarily stuff I have ever seen before and I am left to mix and match.* I accept that I am Mother and yet I don't feel any different. I mourn the loss of my freedom and individuality and yet I hesitate to hand the babe over. I am excited by the prospect of having a little sidekick and yet completely overwhelmed by the responsibility. I am in total control and yet at an utter loss. I am infinitely bitter and yet abounding with joy. I am a bar of semisweet chocolate that's been nibbled on, the rest of it waiting in the refrigerator for the light to come on again. Whatever.

Anyway, I really must be off. I have used up my JUDE'S PASSED OUT ON THE COUCH. YOU HAVE 20 FREE MINUTES card and now have to get something to eat with a baby strapped to my chest. Will probably be something cold for supper. That's ok though - who in the whole world would I rather spend my Saturday evening with? No one I know is half as charming, disarming, or handsome as our little Jude. Sorry zendaddy, take a number. ;)

mamafrog signing off for today. big smooches from me and the little dude. xxx

* I was looking in my closet for something suitable to wear the other day and I thought of this analogy I included in this post. Funny thing is that I went into my closet and took out bits and pieces that didn't fit. Literally AND figuratively that is. ;)

Words and love

Jude, with Ada Wang, kick-ass chick extraordinaire.

Taipei, November 2006.

There's a very cool district in Taipei, close to the National Taiwan University, called ShirDa. It's reminiscent of Glebe in Sydney, with cafes and clothing stores, student pubs and Chinese street markets. Funky. We took Judo to meet Zendaddy's former students Ada and Vivian, both now studying in the capitol. Ada (a very gifted human in physical skills, with a powerful, passionate personality and intelligence to boot) started doing kung fu with him when she was 16 and a student of dance at the arts school in Kaohsiung. She now trains at the Culture University, taking martial arts as her undergraduate degree. (WOOHOO!) Vivian is a brilliant human academic (of awesome character and mind) ZD met in a cram school advanced English class in Changhua, when he was just newly arrived in Taiwan. She was 14 (now 21) and is currently pursuing liberal arts (drama, international relations, several languages including Spanish, English and German; is that right Viv?). Vivian will be President of Taiwan when she chooses, and Ada will rock whatever world she wants. So we were all happy (Nelle is a training sister of Ada's and has come to know and love Viv). Judo was mostly cheerful, but for this shot unenthusiastic. Can you tell?

Zendaddy is reading one of the books that made him, Heinlein's Stranger in a Strange Land, for the first time in some years. Valentine Michael Smith (that peculiar angel) manages to be a beautiful dreamer in a [con]text that (as my friend Pieter put it, noticing the book last night and commenting that he had just finished reading it) is misogynistic by certain contemporary standards. Ooh yeah. Girls (I mean wenches) are cheerful providers of food, drink and friendly bums (for patting). Mama Frog has decided to describe me as a "fuddy-duddy", because of certain reluctances, and now suspects a latent sympathy with such attitudes. I hadn't realised it was latent.

It occurs to me, however, that Jubal's cynicism is essentially intelligent common sense, and Mike's liberalism derives somehow from natural truths, or hopes. I may be deluded. I always liked Jubal though.


Jude reminds me of Michael. He is angelic, and innocent, and utterly full of love (whether you grok the word or have, as I do, problems with it - but only according to others). He teaches us and learns us and breaks our hearts all the time, in a good way. His smiles and gurgles are the most wonderful reward, and we find ourselves (at least I do) playing him with everything we've got to coax out the joy. HE'S SO CUTE!

That word, of course, being always in the past flavored with distaaste, now hums a lovely chord of goodness.


And I should say, I think there is a lot of wisdom in the Stranger's view. Our conventions do not suit our truest selves.


Nelle giggles and rocks. She has added meaning to that word. Parents understand, I'm sure, that the perpetual motion engine only requires an infant for fuel. It can be awfully difficult to take a photo of a nursing mum, 'cause she won't stand still!


So we took Jude to Taipei last week to organise his official identities. One doesn't really exist, after all, without paperwork. He met Nick and Amy and their kids Elentari and Sebastian (Ella's name is from Tolkien, and Sebastian is named after no-one in particular; but it's a good name. And Nick is one of the men that ZD feels closest too, is most wonderfully true friends and mates with).

PINCH MY FACE?

I like Ella.



Flying in aeroplanes for the first time (outside the womb) was no hassle - in fact, he slept through both trips. But we got him in a suitably comprising position at one point - and here's the NAKED TRUTH.






Don't accuse me of anything except honesty and joy, you bastards. Judo T presents it all...

Here is a picture of Nelle, the Mama Frog, with our true friend Pieter Vorster (mad seeking surfing bon vivant) who deserves mention, and attention, and continuance. She's getting all thin and sexy again, btw. Can't keep a fit sheila down.




He loves to talk and gurgle (Jude, not Pieter, though I may be being redundant), and we love it too. Mama Frog and Zendaddy get so much out of our conversations with the wee ninja. Funny thing though, as soon as the camera shows up he gets all serious and silent. It's a trick to get him talking and record it. But we're trying. So watch this, and see for yourselves.

He is more lovely and fun every day, and we know that there are a few of you out there who'd like to be around. This blog is no substitute, but we offer it for your vicarious pleasure.

We're hoping to head down under early next year, and thereafter we plan to mail the lad off to various friends and relatives around the world for short periods so you all can get to know the young feller. Kind of like a chain letter, really.

So until the next...peace! and clean nappies.

zendaddy

Communication

Jude is two months old, and Mama Frog and zendaddy are both wrapped up in the joy of talking to Jude. It is a joyous experience because he has begun to talk back.


A few days ago the wee dive ninja spoke his first word (or so we were told by his godmum Grace when we came back from a day of Rescue Diver training in Kenting). He was surrounded by Chinese-speaking friends and loved ones, and was apparently asked the question "你好嗎？", to which he replied (with gusto) "好". Now in English this sounds like "Ni hao ma?" (meaning "How are you?") and "Hao". The Chinese word "hao" (3rd tone) is one of the most simple and fundamental in the language. It means "good", and the character is composed of two separate parts which mean 'woman' and 'son' respectively. It is an interesting anthropological note that in Chinese culture the concept of goodness is represented by the association of a mother and child. Jackie Chan used the word as a transliterative pun to a native American in the movie "Shanghai Noon".


Now, zendaddy delights in evidence of his progeny's brilliance (and there is of course plenty of it - see how efficiently the boy eructates) yet this story seemed somehow...spurious (which is a good word for Judo). Firstly, he has surely not had the time to develop skills of linguistic differentiation, let alone pronunciation, and secondly, Chinese sounds like baby talk anyway, with its long breathy vowels, indistinct consonants and high-pitched tonal variations. It's the easiest thing in the world for an infant to sound like he is babbling in Mandarin.


Really I'm just jealous. Of course he would start talking with other people, in a foreign language.


Nelle and I are having the most wonderful time having conversations with him now. When the moment is right (he is clean and not hungry, awake just right and all the rest) we sit and have conversations with him for minutes on end. He recognises you and has a smile that splits his face.





His eyes light up with joy and wondrous, simple laughing delight. That's what it is - delight. Judo is DELIGHTED to see you, and truer words were never spoke. His grin spreads right across his jowly face.

So we spend long moments in our days with these conversations, which come more easily all the time. He loves his mother's laugh, and will stop everything when he hears it anew. He loves to have his chin stroked; that makes him smile. He takes a special pleasure in delicate stroking of his head, by the zendaddy. He loves music, and is intrigued by the tribal masks that adorn our kitchen walls.

Jude smiles a lot now, and will talk to you, as long as you don't patronise him too much. He will mimic sounds you make and offer his own. We are figuring out which sound means what, but already we recognise how fierce and busy is his mind.

We're falling in love with the little bastard.

So here are two brief and unedited videos. In a few hours we must fly to Taipei to endevour to arrange the lad's legal citizenship of two nation states. Thus no fancy titles and soundtrack.

At home with masks, November 22nd 2006:



Talking with Mama Frog, November 16th 2006:



Much love to you all from the zendaddy.

When we were young

Mama Frog and the Wee Dive Ninja / Mister Squirmy-Wormy / Rastace / Buddy / Judo T

Zendaddy had a mail from his lovely and wondrous mum just now.

Billie wrote:

"Today I went into the city to hand in my retirement papers to the superannuation people and at Town Hall a whole lot of young Grammar boys got on - probably year 7 or 8 and my mind wandered back. I watched some of them gather around a big photo of the year, laughing probably at teachers, a few of them read the give away afternoon newspaper - straight to the puzzle they went, one fell over his bag, another plugged his MP3 into his ear. I couldn't take my eyes off them. Young, clear, faced, intelligent, happy. Suddenly it was Wynyard and all the people were getting on. I jumped up with a start, jerked back into the present."

So here is some of what I replied:

"I haven't been online much in the last few days since my home computer got a bug. I think it's OK now, although I'm not sure. Just spent the night with the boy while Nelle went to her Chinese class and then to dance with Jodi at the Space. So him and me for hours and...it goes ok. He's been in a bit of a 6-8 week funk of late (the 'arsenic hour' i've seen it named) where he might scream for no apparent reason for an hour or so; but we're getting it settled. His problem spending time with me for long periods is that when he suddenly wakes and wants food he WANTS IT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!! and zendaddy must endeavour to teach the lesson of patience (it's getting warm, nearly there, breathe and relax son, you must learn patience...it's warmer, hang on....) while the milk heats to drinkable temperatures.

And isn't that the thing about time, and the past? For Judo, a few minutes is a significant proportion of his life-to-date. The more time we have, the older we become, the more our perception of experience stretches and lengthens, deepening into what one historian called durée. So those school boys who take you back (and me also) to a moment 22 years ago (when I was one of them) are so alive and beautiful because they live a qualitatively different life. Their experience of every moment is more immediate, more vivid, more present, since an hour to them holds a degree of significance discommensurate with that of their grandparents, to whom the same measure of time may be a trifle.

What do you think?"

Jude is easy to adore. He teaches us the lesson that while patience is learnēd virtue, there is more significant consideration; that love is the first power, the ultimate motivation.

Today I have remembered Camberwell Heights (a house a home I shared with friends James, Rogan and Liz in Wilson Street), my school and its people, a girl I loved in Taiwan and Australia, funnel web spiders and the call of currawongs, Rodney Knock's tie collection, the Prophet, XF Falcons, Donkey Kong and some of the things I should have done yesterday.

(I would have included Star Trek but that occurs to me every day.)

Patience, and love.

The little boy ("He's ours, not yours!" cried Mama Frog so rightly) enforces the lesson of love.

When the cry goes up, the heart strings tug hard.

Zendaddy also remembered today how much he is grateful to the two people who made him. Grateful for the gift of life, for the opportunity of experience. He hopes Judo will feel the same.

Much love to you all, from a heart full of love.

a look at the family

Hey there everyone. Just wanted to get a few more pictures up. This were taken in hospital when all of the family members were here. My mom Colleen and sister Amanda came all the way from Canada to see the little babe. It was my mom's first trip out in a really long time. Unfortunately, they didn't get more than two days with him, so I am trying to get my ma and pa (Paul) to come out in March. Good luck getting the farmer to take some time off right? ;) Then again, for the first grandchild in the family, it may happen.

My sis is an intrepid individual though, and she's heading off to Australia in the new year. But even she said she had a good time in ol' T'wan, and Jude of course was happy to meet her.

Here's a pic of Billee with the babe as well. She came all the way from Australia and stayed out here for a few weeks, which was great since I hadn't met her yet either. She is a marvelous lady! Jude is very lucky to have such wonderful grammas! (And snazzy granddads - Paul and Ron,   hip aunts - Chris, Jo, and Caro - and cool uncles - Patrick and James. He'll have to wait a bit to meet all these though). I am assured that they are all very anxious to meet him. And he is very anxious to meet them too, when he's not hungry, that is!

And here is mama frog with her main little dude. Everyone is so impressed that he is looking so much bigger, and she is very happy to be looking so much smaller!

a message

a few words of wisdom passed on from our dear friend Kam:

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let our bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

Kahlil Gibran

42 days later

As part of zendaddy's continuing mission to explore strange new technological frontiers, and be a little more involved with the people of his world, he offers you this embedded YouTube video link...of Jude Anarion Thomas, bien sur, aged 6 weeks old.

six weeks with me main little dude

Mama Frog's log star date some day early in November, 2006. Getting time to type and share this madness and the wonderous, fantastic joy that is watching and helping our son grow is ridiculously difficult. Not that he is difficult. No colic, or general discomfort, he usually just fusses and uh!s to let me know that something is up. Unless he is hungry - if he doesn't get it soon, then he howls! I am sure there a few better-behaved babies out there, but frankly, we're super lucky. I figured a kid of mine would be a nutcase for sure. Any other parents out there think I have spoken too soon? ;)

If I am lucky he passes out while I am at the computer and as he often wants to pass out in the arms of a parent (these days having breasts that smell like his lunch is key), this means we both win. He is still small enough to pass out and "stick", something like a treefrog, to my chest.



I am a little at a loss what to post on this blog. As it will be used by family for updates, I think it would only be reasonable to use is for progress reports, among other things. And of course, given my candid nature, amusing anecdotes of the three of us growing up together. On the other hand, I am a little concerned that this may be a source of great embarrasment for the boy. All of our stories right now regard the three P's (pee, poo, and puke), which is all cute and funny for us to read about, but what will the young and desperate mind of teenage Jude think when he reads this blog? I imagine a few fits would come from this, no doubt. But then again, my parents (my dad mostly) had no qualms about embarrasing us by telling similar stories to family, friends, strangers in department stores when we got older, and now we fill in the missed details in the telling. He'll just have to suck it up. Figuratively as well as literally, that is. ;)

Speaking of which, I have postponed my life-public and taken on a life-private to make sure the wee guy gets what he needs. Breastfeeding wasn't as strange as I thought it would be, and like I mentioned before, Jude is a natural. Thomas has taken to giving him the nose test - if Jude is hungry and Thomas moves in for an extreme close-up, Jude will lunge for his nose. Or anyone's chest-al area, if you happen to be the one holding him in the crook of your arm at the right time. He spends his time between states of pure placid peacefulness and frantic activity, and one thing he is frantic about is food. He howls for his dinner and when he finally gets to mummy's arms he stops howling and excitedly starts gaping for the breast. If he doesn't find it in his mouth immediately he starts wailing again. I always put a cloth between us as he makes quite a mess in his excitement (we both get drenched), and as soon as he feels it on his cheek, he starts lunging again. When he finally docks to the mothership however, he is calm as a hindu cow.

It's amazing how fast he is growing. He is 5.1kg (11lbs, 3 oz) and nearly 60 cm (23in) long. He has grown these big chubby cheeks and very strong legs (though they are accursedly short like his mother's) - even the doctor commented on this. He has a little whiteman's no-butt and he is losing his hair. You may have noticed from the pictures that he was actually born with some and it was a bit reddish at that. He has since begun losing it. He currently has JLP (Jean-Luc Picard) hair, and is slowly losing that. He does have a little cap of white-blonde fuzz though. As both his parents prefer to be clean-shaven, we're not very concerned. He may have other opinions though.


I am a bit saddened that I have already lost a month. All you parents out there will understand. He is six weeks old and what he does and is able to do is different every day. He no longer makes the face that I love. It was a very intense one - his little brow all furrowed, eyes fierce and piercing, his wee lips tight into a small "oooo". Something just about, but not quite like this:






The one I love could burn a hole through concrete!





From birth on he was a big frowner, as you may have noticed from some of the posts Thomas has made. At ten days he was beginning to smile in his sleep; ten days later he would occasionally laugh in his sleep, and in the past two weeks he has begun smiling all the time. He has mastered pooing and eating at the same time (babies subscribe to a constant balance of matter - if something goes in, then something must come out. Anyone need a thesis for a physics paper?). When he was just new it was pure comedy to watch him eat as he would be drinking away and then get this look of pure contemplation on his face(or sometimes a very dazed expression) and one would immediately assume that he was considering the meaning of the universe. Then a loud riiiiipppp! would be heard, signaling the need for a new nappie. He's mastered it now though, no problems at all. Luckily he is not a hurler.

I love watching him sleep. Admittedly deep sleeping is not that interesting - he just lies there, arms open, legs in a psuedo-yoga pose. It's very cute. (Could I use that word more?). In this regard, he sleeps like the dead.

But when he is semi-unconscious, it is wonderful to watch the expressions come to his face and melt away in moments. I would love to know what he is thinking. He'll open his eyes a crack and then maybe give me a half-grin, or a sleepily defiant "I know you are waiting for me to wake up, but I'm not gonna do it!" and drift away again, or roll them back in his head and keep on dreaming.

I wish I had a picture for every face that he makes. There is just too many of them, and the camera flash is too bright. And I can't hold him with a camera in my hand. Admittedly, a bit of the magic has worn off as he has kept me up until 03:00 on more than one occasion. The early hours of the morning has recently become his favourite time to be awake though. He doesn't cry or anything, he just wakes up and wants to talk and hang out at this time. As I am a night owl, this is not a problem until I get a bit run-down, as I am now. But I do my best to entertain this marvelous little dude.

And he is our marvelous little dude. I do selfishly miss all the other things that I was doing before he became more than just a distant idea. It would seem that even now I can't let these things go. But being here and watching him grow and being his #1 human bean these days (I know it won't last) is really worth it. It is entirely unglamourous, but so intensely real and I wish I could burn every single moment to my memory. Ah, but memory is a fickle thing, even for the best of them. In that way maybe it is good that we are here, so far away from our family and many friends as it means we will work harder to keep concrete evidence of the passage of time. As they say, there is no time like the present, and this present, his presence is a present, a gift that I am so blessed to receive.

Well, I must be off for now - the ramblings must end for today. I will keep at it however, and hope you all enjoy these random mumblings and that they find you well. Great hugs from the three of us on asian island. Mama Frog signing off.

Infant Joy

"I have no name;
I am but two days old."
What shall I call thee?
"I happy am,
Joy is my name."
Sweet joy befall thee!

Pretty joy!
Sweet joy, but two days old.
Sweet Joy I call thee:
Thou dost smile,
I sing the while;
Sweet joy befall thee!

- William Blake

Friends of Jude

Hey Jude!

(How long before he gets wearly of that, eh?)

This is an email zendaddy received from a beautiful lady - Wu Pei Ling. She is quite clearly a hippy, but that's OK.


Dear Jude,

You are born into a world of little microspheres of unidentified wishes and blessings...
The good news is, each and every one of them is up for grabs! Just don't forget to get your little fingers ready to poke, and burst, them.

In this big big Universe, there is more than the stars that shine at night and the birds that chirp in the morning. I hope you recognize that the little microcosm which you live in, is one that is saturated with happiness, honour, praise, peace, and good karma.

It took courage for your parents to bring you into this world. And I wish upon you, the same courage to live your life to the fullest. The courage to get lost, then find your way; the courage to fall, then stand up tall again; and most important of all, the courage to love yourself, and the others around you.

With love,

Pei Ling



Jude has a lot of people around him, most of whom seem to think he's awfully cute. So here are some images of the Friends of Jude.



Godmum loves him:


Gorgeous Caila approves:



Mia the dancer smiles with him:

Jodi is Jude's wonderful namesake, and she thinks he's all right.



And try as he might, zendaddy cannot get Blogger to accept anymore uploads. So other FoJ will be appearing in the future.

Shanti

Images of the first month

Tao of zendaddy

The Tao that can be spoken is not the Eternal Dao


This is Jude the Important, a few hours or days old.



My life has always been full, and now more than ever. There seems never to be time enough for all the words one should write, so until I find my voice (or my pen) once more, let me offer thousands of words instead. I am so happy Jude is here, that he is. Tat tvam asi, my son.


Each day he is more lovely and strangely...a person. He is utterly present, yet every hour brings him closer to what we recognise as compos mentis. He is so alive, and so much a youngling. Gods, how do I speak this experience?

Thomas, Seth, street, whatyouwill - each of me is energised by his being, his scent, his foci. I haven't even begun to consider his possibilities.

Whether you be a parent or not, my friends, allow me this comment. My son has brought me great thinkings, and feelings, and passions and potentials. While voices in me shout "Don't breed, the world can only bear so much humanity, and there is more than enough!", other senses dwell in satisfaction and hale pride. The bio-urge rings, and yet my consideration, my academe, feels well content in this new life.

Jude is this lovely, laughing, beamish beautiful baby boy. He is just so cool. He's interested in lots of stuff, seems to be learning about the world around him with ease and spped.

We take him into different environments, and he enjoys them all. As long as the lad is fed, and clean and burped, he's good to go.

Nelle, by the way, rocks. Hve I mentioned I love her to bits? The hip hick chick who became my private passion remains a most wondrous woman. (And woman has been perhaps my most passionate study.) Mama Frog is way cool. A leader in the field. Thank you, Nelle, for all of this.

Until the next, anon. Zendaddy out.

Airing out my innards

Mamafrog's Log Star Date 10/27/06 We have decided to remember the pain for the sake of our readers everywhere. This is not about Jude. This is all about me. This is the story of how I got cut open A SECOND TIME in less than 36 hours...

So as I mentioned previously, little Jude was a fantastic little guy from day one and a born sucker. Hurdle #1 passed. But I felt shitty, to say the least. I was all drugged up and huge (I had no idea how huge until I saw the pictures later) and didn't get out of bed thanks to el-catheter and a whole lotta Demerol. As I had a big nasty wound (that Frank cleaned up nicely of course and put clamps in instead of stitches to help with the scar - hahaha if I only I knew then), I wasn't on diaper or burp duty. I just had to lie there and when the little dude was hungry, let him eat. It was very cute (and kind of unnerving) as he quickly learned that when he was horizontal and near my chest that a boob was near and would start sucking the air in anticipation. And I had a flock of enthralled family and friends there to pick up the slack. I was still very sore and was not really interested in moving much. I didn't get out of bed all Saturday, but as I said, I didn't really need too. And I didn't notice that I was still very swollen as that was the only view I had had of my abdomen for the past four months anyway.

The next day Thomas took my sister to Kenting to finish the dive course she started while she was here. As my mom was around I thought nothing of his absence. She was more than happy to have a full day to hang with the boy as they were leaving on Monday. I got out of bed and hobbled to the bathroom early that morning with Thomas' help and tried to avoid doing it again as much as possible. I think I made it out of bed that day about three times. I was in great amounts of pain.

At about noon Frank came to check on me and was instantly very concerned. He could see that my abdomen was still the same size it had been when I still had a child in it. He tapped my stomach lightly and I couldn't help but cry out. He then said what no one wants to hear after major surgery - "That's not so good." They brought an ultrasound machine upstairs and he discovered that I was still bleeding and a fair bit of blood had gathered - too much to disintegrate by itself. He told me that if he didn't remove it I could get an infection and thus, I was wheeled to surgery again. This time, I had NO light reflections on Monty Python. Did I mention that I was in a great deal of pain? It was much like contractions only it didn't peak and then go away, it peaked and stayed there. More pain than I have ever been in in my life. The changes from one stretcher to the next were agony. And I have to say I was more than a bit freaked out. Surgery is a bit frightening anyway and I have never experienced it before. So take the regular anxiety and multiply it by...oh I don't know how much because I didn't understand what anyone was saying as no one in the room except Frank and the intern spoke English.

This is probably why I love Frank so much. He kept talking to me throughout the whole thing, reassuring me that things were fine, telling me stories and whatnot, and that was probably what kept me sane until the epidural kicked in. And yes, I got another epidural (Frank was saying they usually use an epidural for abdominal surgery as that way they can keep the patient conscious to monitor his/her condition) and this time paid a lot more attention. I first lost feeling in my right leg, then my left, and the numbness crept through my lower body. I could definitely sense that my feet were still attatched and could "feel" them in proximity to my legs, but had no hope of moving them. But get this - I was in so much pain the epidural did not eliminate all sensation. I mean, it didn't hurt any more but I could still feel the edge of my former agony. I don't know if that makes any sense but that's as close as I can describe it. I had full sensation to just below my clavicle, and this time I was fully aware that there would be no moving me feet.

So there I was for the second time in less than two days, lying on an operating table, with my guts exposed. Starting to feel a bit like a M*A*S*H extra. I calmed down a fair bit after the drugs took effect - 15mins for this to happen to be precise. And of course this procedure took much longer than the last one. When he went in to get Jude he got to cut his way there. This time he had to carefully undo all the work he had done the day before. It took a long time, time of course that I spent strapped to the table calmly imagining worst case scenarios. No fairy dust for me, I tell ya.

I looked up at one point and realized with morbid fascination that I could see what they were doing. They had turned the big lights to a different angle and I could see the reflection of my open middle in the polished stainless steel. It wasn't as bad as you would think though; I couldn't see anything that clearly and I couldn't feel any pain so it wasn't that bad and mostly intriguing. Still a bit odd, seeing two pairs of hands wipe up your guts.

Ok, not my guts exactly. You see, the blood clot formed between my layer of abdominal muscles and fascia, and the blood came from a ruptured blood vessel in my abdominal muscles. When they do the surgery, they cauterize all the vessels as they go, but it is possible they missed one. Or I could have ruptured it doing something as simple as lifting my head while I laid in bed the next day. This is what I get for being so determined to have nice abs. Pain, and loads of it. The blood clot they removed was 500cc - that's like 500mL in volume and that's a bottle of soda. It was huge. Frank even showed it to me - it barely fit in his hand. And because they had to remove so much blood, I had to have an infusion. So I had an IV in both arms. Really hard to hold a baby with pins in both your wrists. Somehow we managed though.

Finally, two hours later, they were finished and my middle was closed for business. I was wheeled back up to my room to where my mum and Jude awaited. Mum, being the babysittin' ninja she is, got him to stop crying. (Incidentally that second day is the most he has cried in his life so far, but I am sure that will change in the future.) And I wasn't allowed to sit up for 8 hours, while all sorts of guests roamed around my room and held my baby, damn it! The second catheter meant that I didn't have to get out of bed for another day, but that it hurt to urinate for the next two weeks. My Demerol drip (and the extra shots I requested a few days later when they took the drip machine away) were my best friends. Eventually I became well enough to burp and change Jude on my own and we enjoyed the rest of being left alone for a few hours at a time.

I didn't get released from the hospital until the following Saturday (September 30th) which means that I spent 10 flippin' days in there. But I was happy to after the mess I was in - better to be safe than sorry. Jude got discharged before I did (Wednesday) but he was happy to camp out and keep me company. The fact that I hold the monopoly on his food source may have swayed his decision.

So that's it. I survived and the pain became less and less (until my milk came in on Monday and I had GI-NORMOUS breasts that were ROCK-HARD! Guys, you have no idea!). And now, five weeks later, I am almost entirely healed and lookin' forward to going back to my training classes in a few more weeks. But being very, very careful doing sit-ups. Maybe only neck-ups. Or roll my eyes maybe........


Oh, and sorry, no pictures of any of this. Sorry. Didn't want to gross out any of our more squeamish of readers.

And ladies, if I may make a suggestion. If you want to have a child, even if you plan to have a natural birth (I have learned there is no "plan" with anything involving children), let your abs go. Stay fit - that's probably why I had such an easy pregnancy - but let your abs go. You'll be much happier in the end if you do.

- "'Imagine your pain, the pain itself, is a white ball of healing light.' - I don't think so!" --Tyler Durden, Track 12 Fight Club Soundtrack

Forcibly ejected

Infant Sorrow

My mother groaned, my father wept,
Into the dangerous world I leapt;
Helpless, naked, piping loud,
Like a fiend hid in a cloud.

Struggling in my father's hands,
Striving against my swaddling bands,
Bound and weary, I thought best
To sulk upon my mother's breast.

-Willam Blake

Mamafrog's Log Star Date 22/10/06 Hey there me lovelies. Finally the mail you have all been waiting for. Well now, where to begin. I know you have all been waiting patiently for the details I have been promising but I would like to take this opportunity to say that I am no more adept at getting things done beyond taking care of the wee dude's needs than any other new parent out there. Man, does a baby suck up your time. Even a very well behaved one! But finally, here is the story (from my perspective of course) of our snazzy little guy's entrance into the world.

I would have to say that of the three major life-change experiences I have had in the months as of late (they being birth, pregnancy and the intro of motherhood) I would have to say that I like the former the least and the latter the most. To be a bit more clear...as many of you remember I really didn't enjoy being pregnant very much - month 7 when I wasn't entirely uncomfortable and was not going in to work anymore was probably the best. And month 6 I felt pretty good, other than being allergic to everything on the farm. But the two months I was terribly hot and uncomfortable and downright bitchy, as most of you recall. I also informed some of you that if the babe didn't appear before September 20th he would be forcibly ejected from the premises. Easier said than done.

I was really hoping he would come earlier as my dear mum Colleen and me dear sis Amanda were coming out to see me and him and Colleen is baby crazy (especially as this is her first grandchild, with no others in sight for awhile and arriving on the other side of the globe no less). But September 11th came and went, as did the 12th, 13th, 14th (the day he was "due" to arrive so we celebrated by taking a 1.5hr trip down to the beach), 15th, 16th and so on. Finally the 20th arrived. Thomas and I took my bags and went to the hospital. The reason my doc (a totally wicked dude - I love him - he rocks and if there was some way to see him more often withOUT having another child I would do it!) wanted to induce labour is that from all signs me and the babe and all my inner bits were raring to go, so he figured we should just get a little kick start. So I began taking the medication on Wednesday afternoon. To no avail. Here they give you pills for the first six hours and then an IV drip, which they increase every 10 hours or so until the contractions come quick enough. So I was there, all hooked up to machines that went "beep beep beep" (not quite "Bing") for that entire day. And still nothing happened.

The next day (Sept 21) the doc came back and asked us what we wanted to do. Initially we thought maybe go home, but Dr. Tsai said that often it takes awhile to get going and we should give it one more day. I thought that if it was a choice between going home and being big, bloated, bitchy and uncomfortable in the heat and staying in the air con hospital, I would pick the hospital. So we signed up for the second day.

Friday morning (Sept 22) I woke up and noticed the "real" contractions starting. At about noon they were consistent and noticeably painful and I had finally dilated to 3 cm. At 14:00 they were 4-6 minutes apart but still bearable, although that quickly changed. But 22:00 I couldn't take it anymore and was almost sold on having an epidural. Unfortunately they could not give me one until I was 4 cm. And after 10hrs of intense, painful contractions in rapid succession, I was still at 3 cm. This is what I get for being so bloody concerned with having ripped abs! On top of that, my little guy did NOT enjoy what was happening in there and was fighting back with every ounce of energy he had - very, very counter productive! As if labour wasn't painful enough, my son decides to kick me during the whole thing! At this point I was in tears and not really able to focus on breathing exercises. The doc came back and said that as soon as the surgery was clear, he wanted to do a cesarian. The baby was still ok but the doc was concerned that if labour continued like that, he might - like his mother - go into distress. So we got ready for surgery.

Every jolt on the ride down to surgery was a nightmare. I couldn’t help but think of the skit on Monty Python’s the meaning of life as I rode down, but unfortunately I was NOT smiling! And then the three stretcher changes almost put me over the top. Thomas arrived in surgery and the intern told him he had to wait outside. With almost ferocious certainty, Thomas told him he was coming in, so they decked him out in surgery gear and we went in.

To receive an epidural one has to get into the fetal position (ha ha – the irony! And the pure ridiculousness of having to squish up like a fetus when you are HUGE and in gi-normous amounts of pain, nearly impossible!). But the small sting of the needle in my spine was nothing compared to what I was going through.

The epidural was a strange experience to be sure. Having no experience with drugs of the painkiller nature I was dubious as to the overall effectiveness of the medication. After a minute or so, Frank (my doc) asked me if my one leg had gone numb yet. In fact, both had. They settled me back down lying flat and the tingly sensation crept through my lower body. I became immediately calm. (Thomas commented on how unnerving the change was later). They strapped my arms down (loosely) and put up a curtain under my chin. I was aware of where my feet were and kept telling myself I could move them if I wanted to. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Thomas, all decked out in scrubs and looking more than a little weird, was more than interested to witness this whole procedure. Maybe it was his interest in first aid training. As I said I wasn’t convinced that all sensation in my lower half was gone. And then Thomas said, “Can you feel anything?” and I knew they had begun.

I was totally relieved that I couldn’t feel a thing so I asked him what it looked like. He compared it to that scene in The Empire Strikes back when Han cuts open the Tauntaun to stick Luke inside. Now some would not have appreciated the image, but as I was kind of experiencing it third person it was fascinating. When they got to the layer of abs, Frank said something in Chinese and then to us said, “Good, strong muscle!”. At that point I was flattered, although I would rue this fact later. I could feel my body being moved around only by proxy to the parts that were still retaining sensation. And then Frank said, “Are you ready?”, and I felt force or pressure on my abdomen pushing up toward my head. Then I saw the look on Thomas’ face - his eyes nearly came out of his head and then kinda like a whooshing sensation the other way. A second later, our dear boy started crying and Thomas looked down at me with tear in his eyes and tears came to me as well. Our little Jude was finally out and howling like there was no tomorrow!

Thomas told me later that the pressure I felt was Frank putting his hand inside, got the baby by the neck and pulled him right out. Which is why Thomas' eyes nearly came out of his head.

Then of course the pediatrician took Jude away and Thomas disappeared from my view. Frank began stitching me up and I felt a bunch of painless tugging on my lower half. Thomas came back after a few minutes and said, "He's beautiful! He looks just like your dad and he's got the biggest scrotum I've ever seen!" Men, eh? (Kaz Cooke - my Australian authority on everything baby says that it is normal for the private bits for newborn babies to be a bit swollen at birth. Although others have commented much as Thomas did since the great ordeal! ;) ) Jude scored an 8 out of 10 on the initial APGAR test and then a 9 out of 10 on the second. Already an overachiever!

After his tests, a screaming, red and wrinkly Jude was brought back to me and put in the crook of my left arm so I finally got a look at him. His face was red, his hands were blue and he was inconsolable. Apparently he did NOT want to come out that day! Then they took him down to the baby room and Frank finished sewing me up (took about twenty minutes). At some point after that I was wheeled back to my room where my ma and sis were waiting for us.

At 04:00 Jude was brought back to me to attempt his first docking on the mothership as a solo fighter. He took to the breast like a professional. A nurse later told me that she had never seen a baby take to it so fast. I believe it was because he got lots of practice in the womb. We had several 3-D ultrasounds taken while I was 8 months pregnant and every time he was sucking on his umbilical cord. Practice makes perfect right? He stayed with us until it was bath time and we finally got some sleep. But how could one sleep on such a momentus day?

The details:
Jude Anarion Thomas was forcibly ejected from the premises on Saturday, September 23, 2006 at 00:19. He was born on the Autumn Equinox of this year and also on the cusp of Virgo and Libra, to be ever plauged by indecisiveness. He weighed 3276g (7lbs and 3oz) and measured 50cm (19in). And from the very beginning, he was a cute-T!



-- "Nothing is worth more than this day." - J.W. Goethe