Christmas and other earthquakes December 7 - 31, 2003 These holidays can make many a hardened soul shiver...

	Though the two biggest packages are for me and Sid, Tommy had won in numbers of presents.

This year's Christmas was approaching us by giant leaps and I was soon certain that in classic Czech disciplines like baking twenty kinds of cookies and cleaning windows, I will, again, fail miserably. Being a very clever girl, despite not quite remembering a divine inspiration of last year, nevertheless this year I had found a box in the cupboard containing decorative gingerbreads, and thus I found relief from the main reason to lose my mind with dough and the oven -- I advanced directly to decorating our tree. Martina also promised me a few pieces of her cookies, to have something on our Christmas table. Our holidays could erupt (from previous years I remember my lesson that Santa Claus, just like all the rest of the males, is totally unfazed by how well wiped our windows are, and whether our household is squeaky clean, or not). Then Sid bought this big plate of industrial cookies at Costco and if they are not as puffy and aromatic like a home-made ones, they contributed much to our festive spirit, and after all, there was nothing wrong with them. This I reckon based on the fact that on Christmas Eve morning, the plate got taken hostage by a division of ants. Our first hours of holiday were spent accordingly, that is, by sorting our cookies and tracing our six-legged invaders with an intent to find out where they came from. Ants happen to be our wintertime curse -- as soon as the rain season starts, our friendly neighborhood ants make the decision to move into our dry house and begin to forage for food.

	It's hard to believe how much stuff we need to pack for even a small walk

I seem to be getting ahead of myself, though. On the weekend before Christmas, we drove up into the hills to buy a tree at a farm. We took Pavlíček's with us (Adam, Petra, Lukášek), and I was imagining we would have a great outing with our little babies, strolling among the trees, looking for the prettiest one, while chatting amicably. The result looked somewhat different: our babies closed in our sealed cars and their cursing, drenched parents wading through mud in the midst of a horrible downpour, trying to load a nearest Christmas tree somehow without the needles and all the water from the needles ending under their rain jackets. Also, we seemed to have somehow lost control of the tree size in the process, so after bringing it home we experienced a tense minute, praying that it would fit into our living room.

	Those two dangling feet belong to our Tommy, who's participating in a walk by the ocean

Tommy was originally due right before Christmas. He must obviously keep a tight check on those dates, because he managed to outgrow his newborn clothes and diapers within about two days. Of course we're glad, though I would personally welcome if such growing rush could next time come to pass without desperately chewing at his mommy. I'm somewhat frightened at the idea that once I stop to breastfeed him, I may have to shop for a bra with cups in the size and shape of umbrella covers... As Tom grows, we began to "getting him used to go on trips". For now, we only extend the range of our daily walks, but we have already been twice to a Pacific Ocean beach, and twice in a forest, hunting for mushrooms. I originally thought that we would carry Tom on our outdoors trip in a huge scarf, but I must be completely spaced out -- despite much advice and manual reading (yes, I had contacted notorious scarf bearers over the internet), I only managed to get both myself and Tom into a state of hysterical despair. After all, Tommy cannot read the manual and thus is not aware that he is supposed to enjoy being wrapped in the scarf, and that it should have a calming effect on him. Well, what do you do? Petra saved us, for she had received two child soft carriers after Luke's birth, and she gave us one. Our stroller works perfectly in a town setting (collapses easily to be put in a car's trunk and is really lightweight), but is definitely not suitable for any surface other than smooth, paved one. Thanks to the carrier we can then take Tom out into a much rougher environment. Mushrooming season starts with December here and browsing through wood is something we don't want to miss. There's another positive effect -- Sid, our newly appointed beast of burden, can finally experience the joys of childbearing. Suddenly it's he who breathes heavily even on a flat road, who perspires visibly, who can't tie his shoelaces.

	Tommy obviously likes his baby carrier and naps most of the time in it

Naturally, Tommy is an extremely beautiful child; e.g. people at my dentist's office had already started a fan club. We were catching up with all that got delayed during my pregnancy, so I happen to be informed about exact numbers and ages of children of all women working there, while Tommy receives their unabashed admiration. Also, he enjoys pacifier bringing, rocking, and other small services while I suffer under the drill. Last time our stay (almost two hours) began to be too much for him and he demanded his snack so vehemently that I had to nurse him while being worked on dentally. If you also belong to Tom's admirers, be aware that we have been collecting all Tom's journal pictures, plus many "bonus" ones, on this page.

	Tommy is trying to devour Barbara's sleeve in a blind hope to get this way to milk

We had ourselves an earthquake, right before Christmas. It found me unprepared, mostly because I did not notice it when it happened. Sid's inquiring call surprised me, but I was much more bewildered by reactions from Czech Republic. Newsworthy events must be rare there these days, for our relatives told us how horribly scared we were, and how we were dying from fear of a hundred-year quake, and so on. One's never really ready to learn about herself from others.

Our Christmas Eve passed mostly on Tom's schedule. We planned at least a fancy dinner, enjoyed in peace. I even prepared a bottle of milk for Tom on our table, but I was hoping from the bottom of my heart that our grouchy baby would be sleeping quietly. We succeeded only partially. Sid and I give each other presents more of symbolic than impressive value, and so Tommy's gifts were in majority under the tree, not even counting presents he had received from other people. We, in turn, got a great present from our son -- since December 23 he has decided to sleep properly at night, and since then he has been keeping it that way, more or less. I must say that eight hours of sleep with only one interruption for a thorough breastfeeding, works miracles with me.

	Šmudla meets Tommy

On Christmas Day we traditionally visited with Krens. This year I quite wondered how we would manage Tommy and Šmudla. Although being a very nice dog, Šmudla is also a very social dog, and all visitors make him very excited. Picturing how he jumps at Tom's head and gnaws at Tom's feet, made me dizzy already several days ahead of the event. Reality, however, proved how little I know Šmudla. He sniffed Tommy, who sat strapped in his car seat / stroller shell, questioningly, yet very carefully. I do not know how, but it seems that the dog understood that Tom is a baby, who must not get scared. During the evening he watched Tom respectfully, and chatted with him occasionally. As it appears, Šmudla is the only being I know, who can speak Tom's current language -- squeaking, cooing, smacking -- all the usual sounds of our favorite dog. The only thing that disturbed him, was when I breastfed Tom -- he started to paw me to make me aware of his presence. Finally he had to accept Martina's assurance that in their family, he remains to be the most important member, who has their undying countenance and respect.

	A family picture...

On twenty ninth of December, Tommy and I went to a bimonthly checkup, which revealed that our glutton gained two pounds and two ounces (about a kilogram) in twenty five days. Now Tom is over four kilos and is growing and changing every day. Right into a new year, he started to smile on occasions, although his sympathy is mostly directed towards -- the boob. I don't give up and hope that one day he may discover a humble extension of the milk production facility -- his mother.

Well, and at the end of this journal entry we would like to wish you into the new year. I admit that I slept right through the celebration; all I recall is Sid wishing me all the best at midnight, but I was already stiff as a board. Never mind, we're no party animals anyway.

Copyright © 2003-2004 by Carol & Sid Paral. All rights reserved.