Welcome, Private! We are Your Family

Welcome, Private! (Theo!) He doesn't move much yet,
but he's well on his way to all sorts of baby exploits!

Impossible to get a non-blurry photo these days.
We are movers and shakers!

Non

Stop

Movement

A few days ago, before our new and first first cousin entered the world mommy reminded us of the gift of life and said that Zemmy (Zia Em or Aunt Emily) would be having Theo soon. But we babies set the record straight forthwith.

"No," corrected Lucas. "We are going to have Theo soon."

Yes. The cousins shall have him. We claim him. He is one of us. He is ours.

And now it has happened. Officially, Theodore Walter Boyd arrived to our world on Jan. 26, 2016 at 7:59 a.m. Zemmy did all the work but we all have him now.

Now we don't know much if anything (nothing really), about the birds and the bees. We do know this, however: We are going to have Theo. All. To. Ourselves.

We shall disciple him. We shall teach him the ways of babies. We shall pass on all of our natural and acquired wisdom to the new cousin, Private, as he shall be known to us. He shall join our adventures.

I know that with this statement Zemmy and Uncle Hart are trembling with fear, but are also relieved that we live so far away and may not be able to exert our influence on a daily basis (save for telepathically). But we are nonplussed. God has created each baby with an innate knowledge of "the code." Theo already knows how to be baby! He will follow in the path we have carved for him. And we will show up a few times a year to conference on how we can all enhance our baby skills.

A theory that floats about is that one's birth experience as a baby is indicative of their personality. Take our family for example:

• Me, Daniel: Extremely dramatic - Check!
• Lucas: Right on time but most painful - Check!
• Raia: Impatient and bulldozer-esque - Check! Check!

What does this mean for Theo and his birth? Slightly early yet extremely stubborn in actually  making his way down the hatch. Hours and hours. It can only mean good things. And good luck to Zemmy and Uncle Hart! That's all I can say.

Here is our official welcome to Theo and you can see how he fits perfectly into his new family in the following video starring Rico as Daniel, Skipper as Lucas, Raia as Kowalski and in his debut role, Theo as Private!! (As per Lucas and his observation... seriously he made the parallel a week ago after watching the movie.)

We are so excited to see how Private will participate in our shenanigans!!

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Baby's First (Cognizant) Christmas

It ain't Rockefeller Center, but it's the best we got (Jerusalem YMCA)

Getting all geared up for the big day!

It's actually her third Christmas, but this is the first time that Raia has any conscious grasp of the holiday. For her first Christmas, Raia was 6 weeks old, smaller than a stocking and was still supposed to be en utero another three weeks. Hence, she was oblivious to anything but milk.

Raia spent her second Christmas suffering from jet and baby lag as we celebrated in NY having arrived a week before. Christmas was more like an appetizer for Zemmy's (Zia Em) wedding than a holiday in itself that year. And Raia slept through the main part of the day which includes opening the presents that awaited us under the tree.

But this year was different. Preemie no longer, Raia now manages several spheres of influence in the world. And thus she was all ready for Christmas this time around.

It all started with decorating the tree. She didn't just participate, she owned the tree decorating. She hung dozens of ornaments (on the same three branches) while Lucas and I grew bored and tried to break them.

Then she fully dove into our Christmastime tradition of watching The Little Drummer Boy every night before bed. We line up on the sofa for our mini-movie and repeat words like "frankincense" and "crystalline." Afterwards, Raia stands, bundles up her blanket in her arms, turns to the tree and says, "G'night Christmas." And she heads to bed.

Raia also vociferously participated in making gingerbread cookies this year. Mommy, trying (and failing) to outsmart us, attempted to take us separately to cut and decorate our own cookies in order to mitigate a disaster while enhancing our fine motor skills. However, Raia was present for each cutting and decorating session, impossible to extricate from the kitchen. Every cookie has her fingerprints.

I was chosen and anointed by God to place the star atop the tree

He was jealous

Nevertheless, we are working against the tide regarding holiday spirit. While you in the West are wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and angling to leave work early on Christmas Eve, we - 3 miles from the very birth of Jesus - have zero sense that the holiday is lurking out there auspiciously on the calendar. Tomorrow.

It is a regular work week here. There is no wind-down to vacation. No lights on the apartment buildings. No music in the stores. It's all a bit anticlimactic.

And as Lucas noted, "There's no snow!" Yes, welcome to the Middle East, my son.

In fact, tomorrow is a full-on day of normalcy including schools and shops operating an open house at a school my parents must check out for us for the future (registration begins in no time for next year).

Hence, and since we are all still babies to some extent lacking in cognizance of calendar days, we shall officially declare Friday Christmas Eve and Saturday - Shabbat and a day of hushed traffic and shuttered shops in Jerusalem - Christmas! And we babies shall be none the wiser!

Every day for us babies is like the movie Groundhog Day. Whether a holiday or a weekend, we arise in utter darkness at 6, the latest. We don't know sleeping in and we don't know calendar dates. As far as we are concerned, you rally us to get ready for school or you don't. And then, for mysterious reasons, such as "the weekend" or "holidays," we stay home.

So we would have no idea if holidays were on a certain day. Christmas could be in July. You say it, we believe it.

But most importantly, in an effort to ease her guilt at faulty parenting and to ensure that we have the right idea of what's going on here, mommy randomly asks us why we celebrate Christmas or who was born on Christmas. To which, (to her relief) we answer, "Jesus!" Whew.

So as we prepare to celebrate, Merry Shabbat and Christmas Shalom!

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Grand Central Station Takes on a Whole New Meaning!

Divergent heights and yet no fear of heights!

Mommy is wondering when the bathroom in our home will cease to smell like a New York City subway station.

With three toddler-through-little kid babies in the apartment, and with the attempted eradication of diapers all around, going to the bathroom is sticky business around here these days.

Luckily most of the misses occur in the bathroom and not on the sofa, so mommy shouldn't be complaining. But the other, shall we say, misplacements mean she must clean the bathroom every few hours of every day.

We are all in that transition time that includes issues such as potty attachment or no potty attachment, and height, particularly for male children. Questions plague us like: Do we sit or stand? Do we stand on a stool or without? Do we sit on the potty attachment or on the regular adult-sized throne? Do we even have TIME for all of these decisions?? No. Especially not when nature calls!

Hence there is always some tidying to be done. Some of us are in between heights: stand on a stool and you knock it out of the park. But stand on the floor and risk watering the tile. With Raia, her conundrum is less about sitting/standing as it is about patiently waiting until the entire process has been completed. Patiently being the key word.

But until we resolve these issues, the pervasive smell of a NYC subway station will continually remind mommy of home. She was sort of hoping for other reminders, but she should will take what she can get this holiday season!

Have the new iron bars stifled or enhanced our curiosity or what lies below?
The jury is still out!

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Common Core Math: 3/3=2 (Solution: The Third Child has turned Two)

This is love

This is tolerance

Today is the auspicious occasion of Raia's second birthday. It was not supposed to be today and the three of us were not supposed to be this close together in age. However, Raia has been her own person with her own opinions and ideas - even extending to her birth date - for two+ years now.

In fact, Raia was supposed to put at least two years between herself and Lucas. But she forced her way into the world two months early, and has never looked back. She has been a force to be reckoned with ever since. Without a vestige of "preemie" left in her blood.

Now, we have a gap of three years and three months between the eldest and youngest: 1.4. between me and Lucas and 1.11 between Lucas and Raia.

I suppose one must be strong if he or she is the third child, especially following this particular Act 1 (moi) and Act 2 (Lucas) in our family. Because we are also sort of pushy and strong-willed and extremely dramatic plus all those other wonderful adjectives that describe extremely outgoing, independent and supremely self-confident children.

Welcome to the toddler+ world Raia! She had her first cognizant
experience at the zoo last week. She was too young to care on prior trips.

I doubt two months extra en utero would have made a dramatic difference in the ease of handling us three babies, but it certainly didn't make it any easier. If birth circumstances dictate one's personality then Raia was born to be a bucking bronco. She will one day have to recount her entire birth story, which essentially took place over the course of one month, but suffice it to say that she handles herself with aplomb amid two older brothers. Fear is not a factor. And getting bumped or pushed doesn't phase this girl, sometimes known as Godzilla.

Leading the charge!

Despite the fact that it defies reason, there is somewhat of a case for having three babies close together. It is called Compacted Cuteness. You have a cuteness overload squeezed into a few years rather than spread over time (in addition to sleep deprivation, infant and toddler milestones). And as a bonus, after you've survived the early years, the parents can look forward to having three teenagers simultaneously!

Birds of a feather, bird watching  

The three wise men

The three stooges?

Charlie's Angels??

School strike! Yes there are children beneath those backpacks.

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Fun times, Cute Faces

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Fun Math: Counting Down to Vacation!

We three.

The countdown began in earnest several days ago, but now, after a lot of meaningless and annoying erasing of numbers in a gimmick designed to teach us math, we can finally see light at the end of the tunnel: We are leaving for New York City in mere days! In fact, you can almost distill it into hours. But do so at hour own risk.

Here's a lesson for parents of small children: Don't start counting too soon. For instance, 30 days, never. Eleven days, pushing the limits. Three days, perhaps. One minute, best option yet. 

See, we have zero concept of time. Seconds blend in to years and we don't even know what that means. All I am aware of is right now, the present, and what I want at this very moment. So if you get me excited about seeing GongGong and the Statue of Liberty, my excitement indicates that I expect to see them NOW! I don't know what 10 days from now means. 

Hence, you, dear parents, have caused my slide into depression since all this hype has yet to be fulfilled. You keep saying GongGong and Mimi and yet all I see is you in the morning. 

And we haven't even embarked upon 12+ hours of plane time plus excruciating hours of security lines and changing planes at the Italian airport. You are taunting me with your promises. 

The countdown was exciting. For the first few days anyway.

Time is vague. Lucas, for example, uses the word "tomorrow" to indicate yesterday, today, later today and, obviously, tomorrow. Also next week. Tomorrow is now. Tomorrow happened. Tomorrow is yet to be. It is vague. Days, even more vague.

"Sleeps," maybe that makes more sense. But still somewhat obscure.

The Empire State Building ended up looking more like the Chrysler Building. Oops.

In his excitement, Lucas built a Statue of Liberty
replica comprised of blocks and Raia's bottle

But he had to defend it vociferously from certain destruction 

Raia had a point - it was her bottle. 

Look out America! Here we come!

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Best Bed Time Routine for Babies

Four little monkeys...

...launching themselves from the bed like NASA rockets...

...and enjoying every single moment of this semi-legal activity.

And this time none fell off and bumped his or her head! And no one jumped on Joshua either! Joshi, as he is known in our place, stood for a few seconds and then realized it was more fun (safe) to sit and benefit from our jumping. All of the bounce and none of the work. That's a baby for you - the younger they are, the more brilliant!

Our overall Monkeys on the Bed fall score is Raia 3, Daniel 2, Lucas 1. I'm uncertain who is considered the winner or loser here because in the world of babies, bruises and bumps are badges of honor.

Mommy has sanctioned this particular activity. Though extremely dangerous and prohibitively unacceptable in most beds worldwide, mommy ratified bed jumping at our home: In lieu of a backyard, which we do not have, we are allowed to jump on our parents' bed in order to spend our limitless reserves of energy. This is much easier and more accessible than gearing us up to brave four flights of stairs to find a nearby park.

We do not take this allowance for granted. Oh wait, yes we do! We toss their pillows on the floor, scale the flimsy ikea headboard and lick the wall in order to add flavor to our makeshift trampoline game!

It was the storm before the calm. But we slept well that night. After we were actually corralled into our beds. 

Eventually. 

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Aria of the Parents of Teething Babies

Who is the real victim here...

The teether or all those who surround her?
Ask any baby and they will tell you
the correct answer: It's the baby.

Lately mommy has been insisting that those swollen pink bulges on Raia's top gums will manifest in teeth in a matter of seconds. Mommy actually holds Raia's lips up so she can watch as those fresh ivories finally poke through. (Which they have not.)

In fact, she's been insisting for days now that the tooth would definitely emerge "tomorrow." And the "matter of seconds" that she so readily threw around has become innumerable. And yet with full faith - or hope - she continues to say that the tooth will pop out tomorrow. And then, she hopes, that she and abba will begin to see some semblance of sleep.

In the meantime, Raia shrieks in pain. And mommy just sings.

Mommy's Song

The tooth will come out tomorrow
Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow
there'll be a tooth.
Just thinkin' about tomorrow
Clears away the cobwebs of exhaustion till' there's only some

When I'm stuck in a day that's frazzled and whiney
I just stick up my chin and grin and PRAY oh...

(...Please God!!)

...The tooth'll come out tomorrow
So you got to hang on
till' tomorrow, come what may!
Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya, tomorrow
You're only a tooth away!

When I'm stuck in a day that's weepy and cranky
I just smear on the ora-gel and grit (my teeth) and PRAY oh...

(Repeat Chorus)

Raia doesn't just seem innocent. She is!

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Staying Cool this Summer

Yes, every color of that ice now holds permanent
residency on Lucas' white shirt

Two, too cool for school

We are too cool to need to lose the pacifiers. We
learned this from abba. Not the part about the pacifiers.

Yo, Bro!

I'm too sassy for my hat! :)

Edible.

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Mommy Told him He Couldn't Drive the Car

Call it sleep deprivation or find any excuse you like for this utter meltdown. But the caption states the truth:

Lucas after mommy told him, no, he was not allowed to drive the car.

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On the "Run" with Daniel, Lucas and Raia

He came, he ran... he won! In my book/blog anyway

Runners with a cause - and cool T-shirts! Go Team Shalva!

Abba - making it look easy!

YAY! Abba crossed the finish line as did Zia Em, Renee, Jes, Alisha and Mati and thousands of other runners. But mommy and Rob were the winners of the whole 2014 Jerusalem Marathon day: They managed to keep Lucas, Raia and myself alive and from completely melting down for about an hour while waiting for abba's Jerusalem 10k debut at the finish line.

Now this was more than a week ago and yet it hasn't made the blog yet. That is because, as you know, we babies have a way of driving a wedge between our parents and their computers and that was the case for over a week as I prevented mommy from posting my blogs.

So it is catch-up time now. I will allow space for abba to describe his experience and express his appreciation for those who supported his run for Shalva, my school:

Hi there,

I wanted to thank you again for your support in my 10k run for Shalva. I had a great time running this race and will plan on running the Half marathon next year.

I was very blessed to be running for team Shalva but your support was not only a blessing to me but more for the children of Shalva.

Shalva is a growing organization and are in need of your financial support to continue the great work they are doing.

If you want to know more about Shalva and donate please click on the following link: http://christianfriendsofshalva.org/

Sincerely yours,
Tony Jansezian

On March 21, abba and our other friends tackled the hills, the heat and the hoards of runners during the race. But the true marathon was the one headed up by mommy with Rob coming to her rescue: somehow getting three kids - babies in strollers basically - to the finish line. Babies who, if they walk, demand to go their own way or flop to the ground in protest. Babies who are on the edge of a meltdown if their needs or desires aren't instantly met. And babies who apply the Law of Babies to all situations in which they find themselves.

Jes and abba - dubious about the run or
about babies arriving at the finish line?

And herein lies the true story. It all began when we were ushered into a hotel room the night before the race. What new discoveries awaited us! An entirely new room for our search and destroy missions! Bureaus upon which to climb. A TV and all sorts of outlets at our perfect height. And better yet, Lucas and I were to share a sofa bed which meant we could come and go without encountering those pesky child barriers that interfere with - but certainly do not prevent - our escapes from our normal beds.

Do not be deceived: This serene scene was short lived

That night, the eve before his big race, abba slept one solid hour. The rest of the night hours were interrupted by cries, whimpers, massive and invasive dumps and the inevitable rising of babies before the sun. And this all occurred in one small room where there was escape from neither sound nor smell. And then, when he arose, just as refreshed and full of energy as we were I'm sure, abba and mommy whisked us off to breakfast where they watched us annihilate the buffet all the while trying to prevent plates and glasses from flying or silverware, such as knives, to be mishandled. Never mind the humus embedded in our clothing and Lucas' swiping of abba's pineapples and almonds when he wasn't looking.

Then our parents escorted us the 20 minutes all the way to the starting line where we watched the endless stream of runners take off and Lucas nearly snuck into the start area with the Jerusalem Mayor Nir Barkat.

Zia Em, abba and Renee look chipper - before the race

We high-fived Alisha as she embarked upon her 10-ishK

And Rob swooped in to the rescue

Lucas waited for a golden moment to break through the bars
and start running. He actually had his chance when Mayor
Barkat cut through these very gates to start his run. 

Starting line shenanigans including high giving Alisha as she embarked upon her journey:

After this nerve-wracking couple of hours abba was supposed to run the race of his life and mommy was supposed to, essentially, herd cats/babies along with Rob who helped the herding process. It took about 30 minutes to get to the finish line which should only be 10 minutes away. We made it with time to spare to see abba gracefully swoop into the finish line.

In the end, everyone was a winner, just some people were more weary than others, basically anyone older than 4 years.

Scott, Jireh, Kat and abba - all medalists

Scott became one of my biggest fans and blogmates 

Scott and I

Mati and abba for Team Shalva

The crew

Lucas stopped running his own marathon around
Sacher Park in order to get into the action as well

And then those weary adults shuttled us to the Shalva victory lunch where we ran about 42.2 kilometers around the tables in the auditorium as we wavered between hunger and indefatigable exhaustion. We ultimately found ourselves in a wreath of balloons that we dragged across the hotel and ended up somehow in the bathroom.

And in video where you can really appreciate the depths of us having lost control:

Where was Raia in all of this? Quiet and well behaved in her stroller making Lucas and I look very naughty and needy. Hmph!

So quiet was Raia that no photos of her were taken
until she got home

Not that she minded!

After all that non-running running around, Mommy has a new idea for next year: not just Run for Team Shalva, but BABYSIT for Team Shalva! She contends that running a marathon would be easier than herding the three of us to another finish line.

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