A New York State of Mind

Uncontained excitement!

There is no more dramatic a way to say this than to just spill it in plain English: I AM GOING TO NEW YORK!

Or maybe the real drama here is that I'm leaving on a jet plane tomorrow!

Nay, perhaps the most dramatic part of it all is that mommy and abba are going to be guests at the Shalva dinner! And they are going to talk about me, Shalva and the wondrous experiences we have had there.

I am not so confident as to whether they will be able to do so as eloquently as I have on the pages of this blog. They will lack the advantage of the photos that speak 1,000 words since they display my utter adorableness. Nor will they have captivating videos of either myself or Lucas and all of our shenanigans. So, please pray for them. They are going to need my gift for words, my wit and brevity (which is the soul of wit) to boot!

And if you want to attend: "Live from New York, its Sunday night!" The Shalva dinner is March 11 and requires a small(ish) price to pay to see mommy and abba, who would be thrilled to see you, plus to support my "school" where I am loved to bits and where I learn so much! It will be a gala dinner at Chelsea Piers in Manhattan. Almost as yummy as my cheeks to be sure.


Or you can support Shalva here as we run/walk and attempt to survive the 10 kilometers through Jerusalem's death-defying hills. That is on March 16, and yes we will be back in Jerusalem in time for my 10K finish line debut (my full marathon debut was last year and my half marathon debut was in utero way back in December 2009).


Before I jetset to NY for the fourth time in my short life, allow me to post some photos of moi at school.

Feeding the dolly

I'm an expert at feeding others, however still refusing to feed myself at
home. Its not a motor skill, its a choice!

We play fun games like putting the blocks in the
correctly shaped slot

I share coffee with my friends

I enjoy the spa services (I'm not in this photo)

And sometimes, I simply hang out with my buddies, like Ephraim

Here are a few links that show some more specifics of my very full days at school:

Physio!

Speech!

Watch out New York City, here I come!

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My Hectic Training Schedule

Hey, look at me!

With all my physical therapy you would think I am training for a marathon or something. But no. That is allegedly mommy who runs once a week in an effort to not die when she does the Jerusalem 10K on behalf of Shalva.

I, however, have made peace with physical therapy. Once upon a time I considered it work. Unnecessary, uncomfortable, demanding work that usually unravelled into a resplendent finale of dramatic resistance and frantic tears.

But now it is all fun and games. Literally. I get to expend all of my toddler energy in a 45-minute burst centered around toys, colorful objects and, most importantly, mirrors! And that is encouraged by my personal trainer and head cheerleader, Elysa.

Elysa encourages my frolicking and frivolity during my physio sessions at Shalva. And with the requisite positive reinforcement that she provides, I am nearly climbing the walls with glee. But for now, I am climbing stairs. Walls will come, later, I assure you.

Elysa and I play exciting games in PT

These are the fake stairs with the toy bait at the top
but Elysa coached me on some real ones too

For awhile I was showing off to Elysa all my moves, which she faithfully reported to my parents since I refused to perform at home. But lately, since I feel we know each other well enough now, I have decided to pull the age-old baby trick on her by refusing to show Elysa some of the moves that I have already mastered and of which she has only heard. I only play this coy game with those I love.

For example, I am now famous for appearing on all two's at various sites in school and at home. But not during PT, naturally. The one time I did stand up for her, Elysa excitedly went to write in the spy book to alert my parents about that. However, she saw that I had already done that at home as my parents had written to her. Now, I tease her with tales of cruising and standing at home while patently "forgetting" those moves during physio. But that is mostly because I am having too much fun with all the other action.

In other PT sessions at Shalva, I work with Alan, my coach, who once referred to me as his wingman. Although now that I've conquered the hearts of every female at Shalva, Alan is my wingman. He just doesn't necessarily see it that way yet.

I had to block Alan's face so that his agent
 wouldn't charge us for using his photo

He's trying to peek

I got distracted by Talia calling to me
as I walked the plank

Ultimately my cuteness prevails.
As always.

UPDATE ON TEAM SHALVA

There is still time to donate to Shalva in honor of our big race! Of course, now Elysa and Alan have to work extra hard to make sure that I actually WALK through the finish line. If you like what you read here, you should consider supporting Shalva, which in turn supports Elysa and Alan, who in turn support me in my endeavors! Click here to go to the Team Shalva page. For more information on what crazy things we are doing, see this post: One Year.

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Graduation Day

From left to right, Miri, Liat, Michal, Avital, Yochevet and Moi.
We were missing just Esty, who just had a baby, a new friend for me. Mazal tov!  

Who knew that before I even turned one I would be earning my first diploma already! I didn't even have to go to kindergarten to receive this.


Sunday was my last day of the Me and My Mommy Program at Shalva, an auspicious occasion with a parting meeting with all of my instructors and therapists. Since October, every Sunday, we went to Shalva for "spa day" as mommy called it, unless we were in the US, or there was a Jewish holiday, or I was having heart surgery. We spent many weeks and we made many friends, both among the staff and the other families there.

My first diploma!

According to the certificate, I finished my year with distinction, at the top of my class. Sure, I was the only one in my class, but I was the top, not the bottom, which is commendable to be sure. When I started in October I was just a tiny baby, 2 months old and still in that newborn coma in which we all begin. But I soon began to recognize that spa day wasn't all fun and games. There was actual work couched in between massages and bubbles. Even in the pool some workouts were involved.


But despite the work I made some good friends, both adults and babies, and it was a nice way to mark the first year of my life. Admittedly, I had many meltdowns due to over exertion, infringement upon nap time, sudden hunger pains and bad sleeps at night that left me a tad grumpy during the day. 


And then there were my inadvertent dives into the pool - oops! Yes, twice I lost my balance while on the mat in the pool and went head first into the water. I wasn't happy about either of those times, although one of them was a dive that could probably have rated a 10 in the Olympics. It was a beautiful, one-and-a-half-rotation forward flip. The crying that ensued also rated a 10 - on the Richter Scale!


Those were rare moments and because of the gravity of the situation were not captured on video. These, however, were. On my very last day, Grandma came to see me in the pool. I had saved all of my hidden talents just for this very moment. No one had seen me do this before, but I paddled on all fours in the water and even alone! THIS was captured on video. And then for the first time, I was dunked under water, this time in a controlled manner, not an accidental dive off of the mat.  And here I am in both of these instances:

Bye bye for now Shalva, see you in the fall! Shalom!

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Braveheart!

Sharing lap space with Lucie again

With my brand new heart, I seem only to need a mere seven to 10 hours of sleep per 24-hour cycle. I just may be on a quest to completely eradicate sleep from my life altogether, thereby proving its futility and wastefulness. Amazing, right?


Well, not everyone is as thrilled as I am. While surging ahead victorious on the battlefield of sleep, I turned around to see that many have not kept pace with me. The sleep war has claimed mommy! Today, after my own therapy appointment, we trudged to mommy's doctor (turning the tables for once) to see if she could get treated for the debilitating sinus infection that is keeping her down. Unfortunately it is a virus, treatable by nothing except rest. Oops, that is where I come in. If, perchance, I slept more, then mommy could rest and regain her strength. She just doesn't have the stamina for the six interrupted hours of sleep. Poor mommy.



But enough about her. I'm sure many were wondering how I fared as I returned to the world of spa day and my trips to the gym. On Sunday I returned to Shalva, where my entrance was heralded by all the happy and loving staff members. It was a warm and endearing reunion. As they saw me, all spiffy in my Polo one-piece, many of the women remarked, "You left a baby, but you returned a man!" (Pictures tomorrow)


Yes indeed. 


My sessions were not as welcoming, however. Working on a scattered six hours of sleep isn't easy! As I began to deteriorate into tears of resistance against certain exercises, mommy would start singing "Happy Days." That was calming, since GongGong sings that to me and it reminded me truly of happy days. As long as mommy sang I could work! It was like magic. I continued on and successfully made it through physio. 


Then on to the "White Room" where lights and soothing sounds awaken my senses. I reacquainted myself with the bubbles. I absolutely adore the lighted bubbles and this time I had trouble tearing myself away. Work is snuck into this session as well and we made it to the end of the session with just a few hiccups. (Video tomorrow) (My blogging assistants are really lagging behind these days)


Lastly, we have speech, which is comparable to Coffee Talk. Although mommy was drinking tea that day. I lasted through about half the session before the sleep enemies launched a sneak attack on me! Not even "Happy Days" could revive me. Complete meltdown, quick latte and a hard-core nap such that I hadn't taken in days.


When that was over, my sleep-deprived mommy realized she had forgotten some very crucial items amid her congested stupor during the morning. While she remembered my food, her food, a spoon, a bib, a change of clothes for me, diapers, toys, her keys, phone and her wallet, she forgot my bathing suit! There would be no pool on my first day back. Oh well.


Once abba came home, mommy mysteriously disappeared into the bedroom - not to be seen again until my midnight wake-up call. She seemingly was collaborating with my sleep opposition. I'll have to look into that. 


Today, I was reunited with Ayala, my other personal trainer. She was happy to see me, and as long as mommy with her desperately hoarse voice, eked out the lyrics of "Happy Days," I was happy to see her as well. I started to add some new moves to my repertoire and am ready to surge ahead. But again, it is hard to work when I'm tired, so we cut the session a couple of minutes short for my cranky sake. However, Ayala gave me good news: There had been no regression during my convalescence. 


So I continue to move forward into the normal and undramatic. Oh I'm just kidding, there is always drama in the life of a baby. How can there not be? Everything is still new and exciting!

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I Only Have Eyes for You

Staring right past the toys into your eyes

Well, now that all sorts of marathons, surgeries and their inherent drama are behind us it seems like we are ready to progress with "real life" yet again. I can go back to perfecting the art of being a baby and mommy can continue not running unless she's doing laps around me.


As part of the effort to return to normalcy I will yet again attend my physical, speech, sensory and pool therapy sessions beginning tomorrow, just three weeks after my operation. I also have a physio session booked on Monday. A busy week for a busy baby. No rest for the weary! Oh, I'm not weary, I'm doing super and have recovered with aplomb. I was referring to mommy and abba who are still struggling to keep up with my post-hospital schedule, which entails awaking several times a night to make sure I'm not still in the hospital. Only a latte will convince me otherwise. 


One of the issues we previously encountered in my physio and other sessions has been my complete obsession with human beings. I have never been a baby attracted to toys. There are very few toys that can distract me from direct eye contact with a person. And this can be a source of frustration to a therapist who is trying to dazzle me with a shiny, noisy object as she tries to get me to do something beneficial at the same time. But, honestly, I'd much rather be staring at you than at some inanimate object. 

A face is much more fun than a dangling object

Especially a pretty face. I've been accused of being a flirt!

I always seek out a familiar face while I am on the work mat. It sort of throws off my symmetry and the intended result of what the therapist wants. One of my therapists has decided to work with me and this foible of mine. She sets me in front of a mirror where I have plenty of people to stare at, such as myself, her and even mommy in the background as she looks on. 

Ayala caught on - she placed me in a position
where I could look at her AND work simultaneously

Sometimes I can be distracted and actually look at the toy

So tomorrow it remains to be seen if I will get any work done or just bask in the "welcome backs" of all my friends at Shalva. I will let you know how it goes!

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Take a Chance on Me

Somehow I shimmied here in my crib...

... and got stuck!

I’m not a betting baby, but if I were I would’ve bet against mommy.


We were on our way out to an appointment and, because of a complete exhaustion induced mix up, abba took the car because mommy said she’d take the bus rather than drive him to work. Confused? So were we. But anyway, it simply meant that I was in the baby back pack and I was headed out in ominous weather to take my very first bus ride. What a deprived life I’d lived until now - planes and cars, but no buses? Video to follow.


In light of all this, mommy packed a “light” bag. We’d only be gone for 1.5 hours, tops. So she organized and eliminated. As she took out the change of clothes she said aloud, directing her query at me, "We won’t need these, right? What are the odds?" I just smirked. 


On Saturday night, I took a mega dump that slid evasively out of my diaper. What are the chances that would happen twice in one week? We would only be gone for an hour and some. What are the chances we’d need a clothing change? I ate potatoes the previous day, not something high in fiber. What are the chances I’d be clearing out my intestines in the next 90 minutes?


Apparently VERY GOOD. And mommy bet very wrong. 


Parallel to the weather, which was a deluge of rain, my own personal floodgates opened up just as we arrived at our appointment. And they flooded my diaper, pants, socks and onesies. And I had nothing in which to change. Remember that part?


The odds were with mommy, on paper. But the truth is, with a baby, all bets are off. 


After a lengthy clean-up session on the changing table in the bathroom, mommy returned me to the therapy room where I began my “play time.” Mommy, on the other hand, spent the next 10 minutes in the bathroom removing the shrapnel off my clothing. 


Then for the next problem - no dry and clean clothes to into which to change. Luckily, the bus trip caused mommy to dress me in a fluffy, one-piece outerwear “Yeti” outfit. So I was naked as a jay bird underneath the outerwear, save for a diaper and undershirt. I made it home without further incident.


Moral of the story: Never sacrifice any of my baby essentials, even though I rarely need them, to save on weight. The moment you do that, you WILL need them.


It’s not Murphy’s Law. It’s the Infamous Law of Babies. 

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Daniel's Busy and Adventurous Week

If it wasn't my schedule it was mommy's. Or it was Mimi's daily Skype marathon from New York, starring me. Or the internet at home just didn't work as was the case several evenings this week. Basically, I was just plain busy this week, too busy to blog. Did you miss me?


Well I'm back! And I'd like to take you on a tour of my very interesting week.


On Saturday I met some friends from England for the first time. They bought me a cute outfit they sent over when I was first born. It was the only outfit that fit me those first few early weeks.

Thanks Michael and Anthea! Nice to meet you!

Then I had "spa day" at Shalva. Here's me in the pool!

It all started well enough.

Then I started getting skeptical.

Apparently, I wasn't the only one!

On Monday, more spa-like activities. This was "play time with Ayala," one of my many fine physical therapists.

Me on a bouncing ball.

Afterwards, a culinary adventure! Mommy took me to my first hummus place, fittingly, with Aunt Majda, who was indoctrinating me on the intricacies of why Hummus Lina is the best. While abba agrees with her, mommy likes Gamal the best. But I'll be the judge when they take me there.

At first I opted for my burp rag. Yum!

Soon though, I dove in like the good Middle Easterner that I am. More yum!

Then on Tuesday, mommy had her own schedule so I met up with Grandma for a short date. Here's me arriving in the Old City on my carriage.

In between all this mommy managed to squeeze in a few runs and is now in the best phase of marathon training: tapering! This means she runs a lot less. 


During one of those short runs on Tuesday, abba took me out for a stroll and we picked up some sushi. He didn't let me taste it for some reason, but mommy gave some to Lucie - not fair! But this is apparently what happens also during marathon training - my parents eat a lot of take out.


Today, well, we went to a cafe to write this. Look, I've almost graduated to real lattes!

Photo courtesy of today's Skype-a-thon with Mimi!

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A Day at the Spa

 Before I begin, I would like to say hi to my new friend Xander, who traversed from womb to world yesterday at 8:48 p.m. NY time. I was also born on a Sunday at 8:47 p.m. Jerusalem time. Congratulations and I look forward to meeting you in person. If you recall, we met in Israel when your mommy was just a few weeks pregnant and I was just a week away from being born (although we didn't know that at the time). And by the way, readers, if you think I'm cool because I'm blogging, Xander had a facebook page while in utero! Now that is impressive!

Bubbles are the best things ever!

Every Sunday is "spa day" for me. The line up includes playtime, talking time, massages, light and sound shows and pool time. As I mentioned before, my mommy likes to sugarcoat things, so she has termed my weekly therapy sessions at Shalva thus. Allow me to elaborate.


Playtime is really physical therapy. It sounds fun until Yochevet makes me work. Things like weight bearing on my extended arms and twisting and stretching in all sorts of directions. This is all in an effort to build up my muscles and help me to accomplish the many milestones that lie ahead.


Talking time is actually speech therapy with Esti. Adults are already encouraging me to speak "their" language rather than they learn mine. Speech therapy at my age involves odd things like learning to eat with a spoon, imitating strange sounds and even reaching out to touch toys. Sometimes this too crosses the fine line between fun and work.

Me having a conversation during speech therapy.

My light and sound show, ahhh, now here is something I can handle with aplomb. Michal takes me into the "white room" (which mommy has dubbed the "White House" because why can't I too become the US president??). The room, redundantly, is white - white walls, white cushions on the floor, and is adorned with disco ball lighting, a spaghetti light and, my favorite, bubbles! At this point in my life, bubbles are the most fascinating things I have ever seen. I haven't been to Times Square yet though.


Then there is my massage therapy. Mommy groans with jealousy every time I'm in that room. Avital, the masseuse, works on my sore muscles (hah, yea right, they are far from sore) and teaches new techniques to awaken my muscular system. Mommy and abba employ these methods at home on me whlile arguing over why neither one of them gives the other a massage.

Utter fascination with spaghetti lights!

I just started what they call hydrotherapy. It was a bit of an ethereal experience entering a pool for the first time. It was like reality suddenly became a very fluid concept as my mommy plunged me into water up to my neck. This was nothing like a mere bath - I was surrounded by water and there was nowhere to sit. I had memories (there's that long-term memory kicking in again) back to a year ago, floating in mommy's tummy, only this time gravity was a greater factor. But even pool time eventually became "work" as I did sit ups in the pool and held my upper body straight up upon threat of drowning. Ok, I was nowhere near drowning, I just threw that in for the drama. Tehila tried to make it fun by singing to me, but eventually the fact that I had not slept since 7 a.m. overrode all possible attempts at placation and there was no turning back: I screamed and turned red until I was placed horizontally on solid ground. Then I took an epic nap. And I slept for two straight hours from Shalva to car, from car to cafe, from cafe to home where I was placed in my bed. That was a napping record for me.

Me in my speedos. This will haunt me in the future.

I was skeptical at first, but pool time = fun!

On Mondays, I have "playtime with Ayala," our friend at our HMO's (for lack of a better translation) child development center. Again, mommy sugarcoats the event. It is actually like going to the gym, but is called physical therapy. But I do approach it as playtime. I mean, Ayala has all these fascinating toys we do not have at home. Today, however, I began to show signs of a major meltdown, so we have no successful photos of this session unfortunately.

And, yet again, a mega nap ensued, thus justifying, at least in my mind my less than stellar performance at today's play date.

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