A Three-Horse Race?

While Barack and McCain focus their attacks on each other, a dark horse has emerged from nowhere, taking the world by storm with his simple and endearing message for change (my diaper).

Click here to see what the fuss is all about.

Fun in the Sun

After court on Friday, we packed up the car, strapped in the B-man and drove 500 miles south to the charming seaside metropolis of San Diego. Overall, the little guy did remarkably well on his first road trip, exhibiting his usual adaptability and patience during the eight hour journey. 

Kate and the little munch attended a shower for our dear friend Tracey, whose offspring springs off on 8.8.08. While Kate was playing games and eating cake,  I joined the hubbies on a kayaking adventure in La Jolla.

It was the hottest day ever. Seriously, some records were broken. A perfect day to paddle the calm, glassy water around the cove, through caves and out to the kelp forest. Dolphins sprung out the water and leopard sharks swam below. We saw bat rays, guitar fish, garibaldis, seals and crabs. It was like an aquarium out there. I had to jump in and snorkel with the sharks. Pat rocks for organizing a great time out (and for letting me use his cool, waterproof digital camera to take these shots.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On Sunday, we headed up to Laguna Niguel to visit my sister, brother-in-law and future nephew, who drops on 9.9.08.  We took Bodhi to the beach on Monday for the first time, Salt Creek Beach to be precise.

 

 

Bodhi absolutely loved it. The weather was perfect and the sea breeze and soothing sound of crashing waves made him feel right at home. The water, apparently, was a bit too cold for the little dude.

 

The Gateway to the Soul

I woke up this morning at an unreasonably early hour to the soft sound of a baby. While I was literally prying my eyes open, Bodhi had already eaten breakfast and was well into his day. Happily pumping his legs and flinging his arms, he patiently waited for me to join him in the world.

I lifted him onto my chest, raised him into the air, brought him down for a kiss, then did it again. I paused once on the way down, suspending his face a few inches from mine. His round, glassy eyes locked into mine with a connection and depth I’ve never before seen.

Then, he smiled.

I smiled back and we gazed into each other. He saw his dad. I saw my son. For a brief moment, I also saw myself. 

It was a beautiful way to start the day.

Smiling at Strangers

Now that I have a miniature person strapped to my chest, strangers smile at me when I walk around town. A glint in their eye illuminates the space between us, exposing the essence we share. 

People see Bodhi and they see possibility. They see creative power. But they also see fragility and limitation. He empowers, he humbles, he makes us all more human. 

Now more than ever, I truly appreciate the value of community. I have met more neighbors in the past six weeks than I have in the past two years.  I am excited to plant more trees on the street, have lots of barbeques and play in the park with the beautiful people around me. Bodhi has already brightened the colors and softened the edges of my world, and I want to do the same for him.  

On Saturday, we BART/walked to the Live Oak Park Fair with our wonderful neighbors and enjoyed some sunshine, art and music amid towering redwoods and a babbling brook.

Bodhi got to hang with his buddy Davis.

We ate some Cheeseboard Pizza for the very first time, tossed the disc and watched Tippy Canoe strum his ukulele. Bodhi, as usual, laid on his back and looked at the trees.  All in all, a smashing day.

On Father’s Day, we headed to the Lafayette Reservoir for a picnic with the Bukowinskis. When I was a baby, my mom and Halina reached out to each other, realizing the value of community as I am today. Now, the Bukowinskis are my second family. The way Bodhi was looking at Halina, he seemed to know it.

Everyday with our little man gets better and better. Should be a fun-filled summer of road trips, plane trips, park trips and, of course, lots and lots of smiling at strangers.

A Week with Mimi Tasha

Kate’s mom doesn’t want to be called Grandma. Instead, she adopted the name of Krissy’s imaginary alter-ego when she was five. As far as Bodhi is concerned, she is Mimi Tasha. Pretty slick, if you ask me. When the B-man found out his Mimi Tasha was coming for a week, he knew his future was bright.

They had a good time together. She rocked him to sleep, changed his pants and took him on walks to see Doris – the retired nurse who can always be found coughing on her stoop at the end of the block.

She made us minestrone soup, spinach dip, potato salad and rice krispie treats. She cleaned our floors, windows, dishes and appliances. She bought us groceries, and beautiful fresh cut flowers for the house. She helped me install a new light fixture in the family room. She babysat Bodhi twice so we could go to a birthday party on Friday, then ride our bikes to go see Indiana Jones on Sunday.

What a great Grand…I mean, Mimi Tasha.

Oh, and she took this nice picture of us.

She went back to Arizona yesterday and we already miss her presence. Tonight, we had saltines for dinner. 

In other news, Bodhi is smiling all the time now. Protracted smiles – not simply involuntary reactions to gas. Earlier today, he was charming himself while staring at the mirror on his playmat. It was the most I’ve ever seen him smile.  Apparently, he too is struck by his cuteness.

He loves to be outside. Whether its a hike in the hills, a walk around town or simply bouncing through the tomatoes and succulents in the yard, he is instantly calmed and at peace when basking in the great outdoors. 

He looks at us intently from greater distances. According to Your Baby’s First Year, at one month old, babies still can’t see very clearly beyond 12 inches. I think this video shows different.

Indeed, where there’s a will, there’s a way.

Only in Oaksterdam

A week before he was going to get drug tested, one of my juvenile clients warned his probation officer that he had smoked weed in celebration of 4/20. Perhaps out of amusement, perhaps to teach him a lesson, the probation officer asked my client if he even knew what 4/20 meant.

He had no idea.

Why don’t you do some research and write an essay on it, she said.

This morning, I appeared in court for his progress report. Attached to his relatively positive report, was a letter of apology to the victim and a copy of an essay entitled “What is 420?”

Both the D.A. and the judge had a copy.

Sigh.

“There are varying theories on the origin of 420,” the essay begins, “some say that 420 originated from a police code that announces marijuana use is taking place…” while “another story is that a group of people in the 70s made 4:20 their official meeting time to smoke marijuana after school.” Dispelling some myths, recounting some history, my client surmised that 4/20 has become a “toker’s new year’s day” and “4:20 p.m. has become sort of a world wide burn time”

A world-wide burn time? Toker’s new year’s day?

The judge is going to love this.

The case gets called.

“Good morning, (unidentified minor.) “

“Good morning sir, how you doin?”

“Good, thanks for asking. I’ve read over your report, and I have some comments.”

I smile and look at my client. His face is beet red.

“I read your essay on this whole 420 thing and, I must say, it was pretty enlightening. I really had no idea about that. But in reading it, it was clear to me that…”

Uh-oh…he needs more time in the hall? He needs an ankle bracelet?

“…that you’re a very good writer.”

Huh?

“Your letter of apology, on the other hand, is horribly written. Now, if you can write so well about this 420 thing, then surely you can write a better letter.”

He shows me a copy of the letter marked liberally with a bright red pen.

“Mr. Chhabra, please give this edited copy to your client. Next time, I want to see it edited, and typed. Go to a library if you need to”

Sounds like a plan, your honor. Thanks for your guidance.