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Updates

So, thanks to my great friend Lalita, I've now got a new digital camera, and I'm uploading pictures as we speak. I'll try to put some on this post.

Three months since I've last updated, so there's a lot of ground to cover now. My new baby has gone through an amazing amount of changes. Three monts ago we were super excited that she was rolling over on her own. Her hair was growing back to cover her bald spot, and she was smiling and laughing readily.

In three short months, she has exploded in growth, weight, and development. Actually, the major changes have happened in just the last week or so. First she started crawling, which I was VERY fortunate to be at home to see. Now she crawls just as soon as you set her down. She is no longer content to just lay there anymore. A day or so after she started crawling, she was able to sit up on her own. Now she crawls, reaches an object, grabs it, sits up, and promptly puts it in her mouth. Then, two days ago, we spotted her first tooth! It's coming out nicely, and I'm not sure when the whole "teething tantrums" begin, but she has been real peaceful about the process so far. it's been a rather eventful June. All this came in time for her six month birthday, which was yesterday.

To celebrate, we went to the zoo. Did you know tuesdays are $2? And if you show proof of payment for tri-met, you get a dollar off of your ticket. So Sarah and I got into the zoo for just $2! That was a rather nice suprise. And because the weather was kind of dismal, it was mostly not busy. We dressed warm, and to the cold was no issue. Ophelia was mostly indifferent to the animals. When we went into the lorikeet exibit, (The one where you get a small cup of syrupy liquid that the birds eat) I held the cup while my arm was extended. The baby was on my chest in the front pack facing me. Two birds immediatly landed on my arm to fight over the cup, and one landed on my shoulder making noises. Loud noises. Ophelia saw all of this, her face screwed up in a frightened expression, and loudly expressed her displeasure. She did not like those frendly, colorful birds.

Anyway, back to work. Let me try to put up some pictures.

Positive

I am healthy.

Hm...

Statistics are with me on this one. Studies show that I am at a VERY low risk for the worst case scenario. So why am I dreading thursday so much? Because with the arrival of a wife and a daughter you tend to take things more seriously, which is something I've always had a problem with.

Why is it so hard for me to take my own health seriously?

Ode to Ophelia

The day began as many of my days now do. I woke up to the alarm at 5:02 sharp, then promptly pounded on the snooze button until about 5:50. This allows me enough time to put on my clothes and make coffee and get out the door with about 10 minutes to spare to wait for the bus, but no time to think about what I'm about to get myself into. Again.
I stand at the bus stop, (Early, because you never know when the bus will be early, though it is usually a few minutes late. Few things are worse than watching the tail lights of your last chance to get to work on time head down the road.) cold, wishing I could sit because I'm not yet awake enough to stand, smoking the first of my guiltarettes. Hop on the bus, spend 45 minutes wishing I could fall asleep on said bus.
These days work has become almost painful. I make just enough money to pay the things we need to pay, and we eat mostly well. The last half of the month our meals get more and more simple, with the last week consisting mostly of black beans and rice, with the occasional bowl of top ramin or canned soup thrown in. Sarah eats sparingly during the day, waiting for me to get home before eating a big meal because, I believe, she knows I don't eat during the day to save money so she can.
It's frustrating, because costs keep cropping up that I don't expect or factor into monthly budgets. I pay for the bus mostly in loose change so I forget that it costs $80 a month. Diapers are of vital importance, so why can't I remember that they run me about $40 per paycheck?
All these same thoughts keep running through my malnurished brain day after day. Work is unsatisfying because my work keeps piling up, and I'm not getting the help that was promised me. This month, due to sickness and awkward scheduling, we will be late for rent for the first time. I'm worried about bus fare for next week, and I don't know if our luxury barbeque sauce will hold out for our beans and rice.
So this day gets me especially down. Money, food, entertainment, laundry, poor work environment and questionable paychecks are on my brain. I'm worried that I'm failing the two most important people in my life, my love and my daughter. (Though Ophelia is the most well fed and generally taken care of person in our household.) By the time I leave work, full blown depression has set in.
Then I get home, and to some extent, my mood lifts. Sarah is happy to see me, holds me and kisses me. I pick up my daughter and she smiles at me with that perfect, guileless smile only babies can muster. We have company coming over this night, and the house is a wreck, so I muster up the effort to start on the kitchen.
"Would you like to listen to some music?" I ask Sarah, just as she is forming the same question for me. We put on a Dave Matthews mix, and the music begins.
Immediatly I want to dance with my daughter. To spin her around the room and sing to her, and lose myself in her warm, soft, pink perfect baby body. I skip through the songs for one I've memorized, (Because still, for some reason, I am still afraid to sing in front of my love, who loves my voice, and my daughter, who is just happy for the attention. I sing better with songs I know, you see. Or at least I am more sure of myself.) and I land on crush. A love song. It's been my favorite Dave song since I first heard it at 16, and it was never better than it was now. I stood there, swaying, singing, the words applied to my little girl, and I start getting choked up. Tears started rolling down my face, and I was unable to manage more than a hoarse whisper of words to sing with. Sarah, noticing what is going on, stood behind with her arms around me, and I lost myself. My worries slipped out of my head as I clutched (Not too tightly) the best thing that's ever happened to me since Sarah.
I am loved. I am loved by God, who, despite my many blunders, has seen fit to place such wonderful people in my life permanantly as a reminder of His love. I am loved by Sarah, who accepts our near poverty curcumstances, meager fridge and humble dwellings, because I love her totally and completly. And by Ophelia, who simply does not care. All she knows is that she is cared for, and she is safe with us. (Of course, it doesn't hurt that there is always a free nipple just a cry away.)
Our time here is short. I get caught up in the mounting american pressure for status and stuff. I forget that, once taken away, it is the lives of others that touch us more deeply than anything we can buy. I am at peace. I know our curcumstances will forever be changing. Some days good, some bad.

In the immortal words of Sam Elliot, "Sometimes you eat the bar, sometimes the bar eats you."

Um...

I guess I just wanted to put this picture up. This girl... I live for this smile. She makes me... happy.

Seattle

That's where I am now. My company, (Whole Foods) sent me up here for three days to train, and because sundays and mondays I have off anyway, I'm staying an extra two days. Sarah and the kid are here with me, so that's nice.

They rented me a car, and we picked that up without a hitch. We pulled into Seattle at about 10:30, parked, and walked into the Hotel Max. If you've not heard of it, it's quite nice. $150 a night, (Paid for by the company) and a wonderful atmosphere. However. For some reason the paperwork identifying my stay as being charged to the company was lost, and we couldn't get in. I called the emergency line for our travel co-ordinator, and she managed to get us in for the night. After 45 minutes of us standing in the lobby with three paper bags full of our stuff. (We realized, while packing, that we have no luggage. How does that happen?)

It's been fun so far, although my training is INCREDIBLY redundant and easy. Friday I spent a little over six hours going through 154 invoices FIVE TIMES. No joke. Each time I went back over these same invoices I was checking something new. That I could have checked the last time. Ugh.

Today it is less than 40 invoices. Which we are now mostly done with. Seriously, at about 9:30. We were done. And now I have to sit here until we can run reports. I do not need to be here today.

Hanging out with my cousin Megan and my aunt and uncle is fun. They are taking Sarah on a tour of Seattle while I am wasting time at work today. Wish I could be there. The baby sleeps every time we leave the hotel, and usually doesn't wake up. Last night my uncle held her for about 45 minutes, talking to her the entire time. It was real cute.

I'm cold. And bored. I want to get out of here. I have four more hours of sitting around. Bleh.

Times...

Tornado in Washington, 70 degree weather in Pennsilvania... I think the world's gonna end soon.

Ophelia June Whipple turned one month old yesterday. Already a month has gone by, it seemed to go so quick.

Recap: the Labor took about six to seven hours from start to finish. We had the birth at home, in a birthing tub the midwives provided. She sat lengthwise on one end, I sat across from her. Our moms were there, (And the three midwives, of course.) the lights were dimmed, we had soft instrumental music playing in the background, and if people needed to talk, they did so in whispers. It was kind of surreal. Sarah bore it all very bravely, hardly making a noise until the end. She said later that she felt relativly little pain up until the end, which hurt like hell. I caught the baby and handed it to her. As she held the baby and I held them, my mom said, "Congradulations, you just changed the world." I teared up staring at our little creature, covered in a white waxy substance, crying and shivering at the unexpected air. I cut the cord, she popped out the placenta, and we took her to bed.

Three weeks off was awesome in every way except financial. Seeing her alive, out, crying, smiling, holding my finger, feeding, pooping and peeing was a wonderful experiance, but all so strange. It is still weird to hold her and look at her. To smell her, kiss her and watch her sleep. To celebrate her life. My daughter. My child. My little Ophelia.

Pictures

Hey! I just added pictures of my baby to my myspace page. I'll get them here when I know how. Okay, I might have just done it. Not sure 'till I post.