It's Vanessa's Birthday!!

Today is Vanessa’s birthday! It is also Nyepi, a day of silence in Bali. Even though this is a Balinese tradition it is an official holiday throughout Indonesia. Vanessa’s organization decided to move the holiday to tomorrow (Friday) in order to have a three day weekend so Vanessa has to work and has a meeting in the evening as well. I made pancakes this morning for breakfast before V headed off to work. I will pick up her cake now. We will celebrate her birthday on Sunday by having brunch at one of the hotels here.

This pics you see are the effigies they burn to ward off evil spirits and V helping Zee open his gift from Grandma Dotty.

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Momma V and Zee

Zee and Momma cuddle and hang out. 

Our Hero

A hero is born and his name is Zee. Somehow Zee managed a trip to dreamland two nights in a row. Last night would have been the big number three but cries emanating from his room were not the normal whimpers he usually makes. Daddy responded to the 911. Daddy assessed the situation and sure enough, my boy had a wet nappy. Zee’s call was justified and I after a quick change and warm embrace I positioned him in his crib massaging his back and head. After a few minutes Zee traveled back to sleepy land. I actually thought I dreamt the whole thing until I bumped into the door on my way to my bed.

This goes out to Rachel Banken who inspires me to write because she actually checks our Blog not monthly, not weekly, but daily. Thanks Rachel. Rachel (and anyone else that is having trouble with their baby sleeping through the night) here is how V and I have done it. I think every baby is different but here is what has worked for us. We go through the normal routine of bath, calm down time (hard for Papa), story time, and then Mommy will put him down for the night after he goes to milk town. The hardest part for Mom is walking out and leaving your little cherub all alone to cry it out. It’s not easy. Sorry to say every time you go back in to check on your gift to the world you are making it harder on him because you produce that beautiful Mommy scent. That love perfume that says I’m here and will give you milk, hold you, protect you, love you, and enable you to cry more and keep Momma and Papa up all night. So now you have three people sleep deprived instead of two…and hopefully none in a short time.

That’s where Daddy comes in. We are the cleaners/jackals (see the movie Le Femme Nikita) in this scenario and it sucks. Mom is depleted. She pumps early in the AM, goes to work, stresses and finds time to breast feed in between meetings, sometimes eats, and then comes home to her little miracle at night and plays, caresses, loves, and then pumps late at night before going to be. She forgets what sleeping more than two hours feels like. She wonders what day it is. Anyway, she calls in Daddy to take care of business. That’s what we Daddy’s do. Instead of sweet smellin’ Mommy coming to the rescue baby is caressed by Daddy. Here’s how I think Zee would see it - “Wait, why is Daddy here? He has no organic milk farm. He has a much different body odor and is much more hirsute than Momma. He tosses me around, makes me spew up my food, and creates red rashes all over my body from his unshaven face blowing air into my naked stomach that makes me giggle. I know he is cool and I feel safe, but crap, if only I had a bit of that Mommy perfume to sniff I could fall to sleep. I need my fix. Well, it looks like the milk truck may have left the station tonight and I’m stuck with Daddy. Ugggh, I’m tired…..whoaa, I’m sleeping like a baby.”

Put your man in charge of your baby tonight. Let baby cry for no more than ten minutes the first time then have him come and rub the baby’s back (Zee like to sleep on his stomach – I wouldn’t recommend this in the first six months due to SIDS). Zee likes to get up on all fours and bang his head against the mattress. I apply gentle pressure to hold his head down and caress the back of his head and back. I then leave the room. If he starts to cry I will time it for about 5 minutes. Then go back in and massage him again. I don’t pick him and I don’t talk to him (I did pick him up, talk to him and sing to him at first but I wouldn’t recommend it because it didn’t help). If your man is like me he will want to run in at the sound of even the slightest whimper….DONT DO IT! Let the little guy whimper and cry a bit (five -10 minutes) to see if he will adjust himself. If baby keeps crying just repeat the above routine. It is well worth it for the both of you. I have been sleeping in another room so Vanessa doesn’t even know what is going on. If she did she would come to Zee’s aid. Last night after V put him to bed he didn’t stop crying so V went back in to talk with Zee to let him know it was ok. I had to kick her out and remind her that she had violated the code. Yep, it’s a code alright and it’s an understanding Daddy and son have in the same way you and baby bond through breast feeding. I do recognize when Zee needs me though. Last night his cry was louder and I knew something was up. Sure enough he needed a nappy change and went back to sleep. A baby will generally cry for a reason. At first it is due to the routine and having Momma there but I think after they understand how nice it is to sleep through the night the baby wakes up for different reasons…mainly because he is cold, needs a baby change, or sick.

It only took me one night to get Zee on track. I woke up maybe twice. The first time was about 30 minutes and the second time it was an hour. That is 1.5 hours of sleep which is nothing. Your man may be a zombie for the first few days but he’ll be glad he did it for the three of you. I hope this helps you Rachel. Let us know what happens and thanks for reading our blog.

Miracles never cease…

Daddy was on duty again last night and something very strange occurred - Something very extraordinary. Our little Zee actually slept through the entire night. Vanessa laid Zee in the crib without his normal before bed boob suck on Mommy’s au natural milk farm and walked out. I had been to the store and returned to hear my little man crying but did not go in. He finally calmed down and dozed off. We had ordered in and ate a nice Indian dinner and then settled down to watch a film called The Constant Gardener. We kept the baby monitor close by and waited to hear something from our little buddy….but the monitor remained silent. Vanessa went in to check on him and found him on his tummy breathing softly. We finished the movie without any interruptions and I settled in for a long night while Vanessa hit the sack.

Since I am on spring break and don’t have to work I am on Zee duty. My responsibility is to get Zee off the Mommy milk train so she can finally get a decent night sleep. Last night, Saturday apparently went well as I let Zee cry for three minutes, and then picked him up for a few minutes, set him down and let him cry another five minutes…and so on until he finally slept. He woke twice and this process went on for 30 minutes and then 45 minutes. I even felt rested when I woke up and placed Zee in the bed with Mommy and headed out before 0545.

I opened my book, Confessions of an Economic Hit Man and read while waiting for the baby monitor to let out a squawk…and read, and read. I had just started the book and I was already on page 67. I looked at my watch and noticed it was already 11:00 PM. I ran and checked on little buddy and found him purring. Nice! This wasn’t normal. He should have already woken up. I went to sleep in an adjacent room with the baby monitor next to my head and dozed off. I woke up in a panic at 0300 and ran to Zees room. There he was. Face down breathing gently. Thanks goodness! I went back to sleep and didn’t awake until 0530 which is sleepin’ in over here in Muslim land.

Let’s see what tonight holds.

Reality check

Women's Winner of 5KM

The three of us arrive at the zoo for a 5km race. The race consists of about 500 runners and we know most of them. Today the elite runners from Indonesia will be competing for some good cash and prizes the likes of plane tickets to Singapore and Bali. You also get a nice wicking T-shirt for entering the race. Our other running partner, Barb, is in charge of the overall scoring of the race and she has been up until 0300. She looks stressed. We wave hello and leave her. We warm up and try to get a good sweat going. It’s time to line up at the start.

The announcer gives us no warning. He suddenly raises the starting gun as if trying to target a small bird among a flock and fires. Bang! The crowd disperses in a wild frenzy as the slow runners in the front make it difficult for the faster ones to get by. People trip and fall, touch and bump, hop and push, until the pack thins out. I am feeling pretty good as I jet out. I pass some friends and shout their names. A 5km race is fast and pretty much an all out sprint. I feel someone close behind me breathing intensely. He sounds like he is hyperventilating. I speed up to lose him. I get annoyed when I feel someone is breathing down my neck. The breathing continues.

As it turns out the heavy breather is a good friend of mine. He is tailing me and using me as his pacer. He and I both ran the Singapore marathon together in December. When I passed out in Singapore after crossing the finish line I actually requested his help. Since he too had passed out the year before running the same marathon I knew that he could at least let Vanessa know I would be ok as the ambulance rushed me off in a delirious and vomitus state hooked up to an IV. He and I are always neck and neck on runs. I beat him the last time. I know he wants bragging rights. One thing I might add is that he is also 51 years old. He is currently training for the Comrades race in South Africa - A grueling run of 90 Km with a cut off time of 12 hours.

As we both run stride for stride my lungs start to fill heavy and my breathing becomes labored. His breathing is also throwing me off. I realize I am starting to hit my wall. I pass a 15 year old girl who is a fasty and student at my school. It feels good to pass her but I wonder if I can keep it up. I beat her last week but can I pull another repeat. At 2.5 km I start to fade and she swiftly passes me. I can still see the back of my friends head a bit ahead as sweat drips down my nose. My lungs aren’t processing the air fast enough to catch up. My legs begin to sense the need for more oxygen. I fight to keep them turning over at a respectable pace. I run up to another high school student from my school and encourage him onward. “Let’s go,” I mumble. He gradually moves ahead of me. I begin to question myself. Maybe it’s because I have a terminal illness. Maybe I need to make an appointment for an MRI. Why are these people passing me? Am I sick? Is it age? A combination of the two? A sign on the side of the path states there is 1 km left until the finish. This last bit will be a cruel incline that will make me wish I were back in my Momma’s womb. I battle the burn in my chest and legs as I play cat and mouse with the high school student. I overtake him and then he gets ahead of me. There is one last prominence leading to the finish line. The student makes his move and I encourage him to sprint on. My fuel gauge teeters on empty - a few fumes remain. With 15 yards remaining in the race I notice the student’s breathing is labored and he struggling to maintain the sprint. I rally some energy to kick it in. I am the cat and I he is the mouse. I eat the mouse before the finish line.

The 15 year old girl is at the finish line and about to faint. There is blood running from her knee. As I watch the blood ooze from her wound I recognize that not only did she fall on the course but she still managed to get back up and kick my slow sorry ass. I like this girl. She wants to cry but I remind her that she should be smiling because she is done. She fights back the tears trying to catch her breath. As I walk her to the aid station I realize that I have been outrun by a 15 year old girl and 51 year old man. I am just glad the lions didn’t get out today because I would have been eaten alive.

Barb, Andy and Rob later ask me how I could let a 51 year old beat me.

Grieving

A student of mine stops by after school and asks me if I have ever been emotionally depressed. I relay a few middle school stories and ask him what is going on. He tells me that he had a teacher in Singapore who had really helped him when he was a new student there. He said the teacher then suddenly died one day. Instead of going to the funeral he decided to avoid “going and placing flowers on the grave”. He nearly starts to cry. “I wish I would have gone to the funeral,” Mr. Dickey, “but I didn’t. I didn’t really have a chance to grieve. That teacher was really important to me. I became really depressed because I held my feelings in.” I ask him what he has learned from his experience. “What will you do now if something happens to someone you care about?” I ask him. “I will grieve Mr. Dickey,” he says. “I want to let others know about my story.” I think your teacher would be proud of you I tell him. Your teacher taught you a valuable lesson and it appears you have learned it well. “Yes, I want to use this in a speech for English. Do you think it will be good Mr. Dickey?” he asks hesitantly. “As long as you are real and genuine like you have been with me it will be amazing I tell him.” He thanks me and heads out the door. I love my job.

Small Miracles

Whooaaa! Zee only woke up once last night. The only downside is Vanessa couldn’t sleep because she kept waking up wondering why Zee hadn’t woken up. Well done Zee Man! We are hoping for a small miracle – that he repeats it two nights in a row.

The big fat rat cat

It’s 0355 in the dark of the morning as Andy suddenly appears wide-eyed after cutting through the Kampung near my house. “Holy shit man, you won’t believe the size of the rat I just saw! I thought it was a cat but when I got close it hopped out of the way and had the largest freakin' tail I’ve ever seen.” I laugh and tell him he has mistaken a rat for the famed Civet cat that resembles a possum. We do our hill workout in the neighborhood before running up to Barbie’s place at 0430. Barbie had wanted to sleep in this morning after a meeting that took her to 10:00 the previous night. I don’t blame her. Barbie is one of those super-human types who is always doing something. Sitting down is as foreign to Barbie as it is for most people to eat the coffee beans from Civet cat scat.

I re-tell Andy’s rat story to Barb and she laughs and tells us about the time her friend had a large dinner party. Everything was in place and her house was decorated to the nines. All of a sudden the guests who are now seated at the very large elegant table made of the finest Indonesian wood hear a noise from the ceiling. [In Indonesia it is very common to have Civet cats crawl into the ceilings as they are nocturnal creatures and seek out dark areas. The problem is that these marsupials will often urinate on the wood weakening the structure of the ceiling. The other claim to fame the Civet cats have are that they are also known to choose the best coffee by eating the fruit away from the coffee bean. The raw bean is then collected from the scat (excrement) of the cat and processed into the finest coffee in the world. This is true. My friend’s family works in this industry and most of these very expensive beans are shipped to Japan consumers.] As the guests speculate what the hell is going on the ceiling suddenly caves in falling on the mouth watering victuals, cocktails, and fine crystal leaving a very scared and large marsupial standing on the table with nowhere to go. Barb wasn’t certain who was more horror-stricken – the Civet cat, the guests, or the hostess of this freak show who feared the guests would spread word of the rat that came to dinner. The Civet cat decides to scurry off into an adjacent room. The hostess yells for her guard to come and take care of this evil beast that has dropped in unexpected from the skies tainting her reputation. The guard confidently enters the room with sickle in hand. After a few thrashes and screams the guard emerges covered with blood and a few pieces of hair and flesh in hand. The room, a cultural wonderland of Indonesian pieces, now has walls splashed with the color of Civet cat blood and decorated with various marsupial body parts. Dessert was not served.

Andy is wide-eyed again and says, “Uh oh, that’s why my ceiling has yellow patches on it. I just thought it was from the rain leaking in.” You better get that checked before you have us over for dinner!

Another Morning Run

A massive windstorm followed by rain shakes the plants outside and forces me to jump out of bed ready for bear at a quarter past midnight. I think someone is trying to enter our apartment and it takes me awhile to settle my beating heart. I have fallen asleep on the sofa as Vanessa invites me to bed. I wake up to transfer Zee to our bed around 3:00 AM to cuddle with Mommy. After being moved to his crib in a separate room Zee is not waking up as much as before at night. This makes both Mommy and Daddy happy.

Its 3:50 AM as I run up the steep rain soaked road to my running partner’s house. I whistle to the groggy guard who unlatches the gate and allows me passage. I enter and immediately lie on the doorstep and fight off sleep. My running partner comes out of her house shortly after and slips on her running shoes. She has a new route for us to try this morning. We run through the neighborhood and enter a dark foot path and watch as the fattened rats scurry out of our way. My partner isn’t feeling well and leans over and begins coughing up some green phlegm. “You ok?” I ask knowing good and well she isn’t. “Much better now,” she smiles, “I’m running the stuff out.” We continue to wind through the maze of dark walkways and footpaths in the quiet of the morning. Fortunately for me my partner has a built in compass, her sense of direction is amazing, and I secretly believe she has a photographic memory to boot. She suddenly leads me down another darkened path and eventually after an hour of winding our way through the Jakarta environs we find our way back home.

Fancy a swim?

 
Zee and daddy splash around. 

Football anyone?

  

Zee is all boy

  

Zee gets some wheels!