Quirky Outtakes Time Machine – July 26, 1995

On the subject of my work and another example of dealing with situations competently as they come, I offer yet another Time Machine entry. This one comes from the summer of 1995, just before Sage started her first (and among the world’s first) what would later be called blog entries:

July 26, 1995
Settling in to the gin summer…

My apologies for not writing sooner – and apologies in particular to those people who got worried enough to write emails to see if I was okay. Indeed we are okay though we had a bit of a wild month. It all started about a month ago…

I woke up at my usual time on June 12th and for some strange reason was moved to check my voicemail at work. I called in to find a voicemail that said that there was a mandatory meeting in the cafeteria for all employees at 9:00 AM. I left the house with a bit of apprehension. It isn’t often that mandatory meetings are called spur of the moment to tell people good news.

I got in and everyone was abuzz with theories and before long we were all sitting down in the cafeteria and waiing for the meeting to start. And start it did with an inauspicious parade of nearly identical men in nearly identical navy blue suits. They wasted no time in getting to the point. Profits were low, startup was taking too long and they’d decided to close the facility. Everyone there was entitled to a severance package plus the rest of the week off. We were to be provided with counseling, office space for our future job search and the ability to apply for other internal positions in other plants that were still open. And just like that, it was over. People like me with 2 years there got a little over a month of time. One coworker, who happened to be on a boat in the Carribean at the moment was getting nearly a year off in exchange for his 25 years of service. Nobody knew how to get in touch with him to break the news.

I headed back to my desk and got on the phone to a former boss, Chuck, who I knew was really busy with his company doing “Validation”. After a couple of calls I got in touch with him on his site about an hour away from me elsewhere in New Jersey. Chuck told me then that he absolutely needed someone with my background and invited me to dinner that night back here in Bethlehem. With that encouraging bit of information, I gave Sage a call and was lucky enough to be able to break the news to her with the mollifying information that I was having a job interview that night and was getting a paid month off as well.

The meeting with Chuck went well. I hadn’t seen him in about three years when he was my boss at another Biotech company in New Hampshire. The work he described sounded really fun. I would be designing plans for the testing of pharmaceutical equipment and then actually performing the tests. It was along the lines of some of the more fun stuff I did during the startup of the two biotech facilities I worked at previously. He was looking for someone who knew about pharmaceutical regulations but also knew how the equipment actually worked. Was I interested? Absolutely – I totally was. And so I gave him my resume and the wheels started turning.

Well, I thought they were turning but little did I know that this was such a big company that there was beaurocracy to go through. And so instead of going to work the next day, it was about three weeks before I started. And me, being the worrier, I kept thinking that there was some catch and actually I had no job after all..

However, I didn’t worry all the time. Sage and I actually got to spend more time together than we had since we’d met and that was wonderful. What did we do? Well, we played gin. What else? We listened to music from the 30’s as we played gin, sweat a lot in the heat and drank coffee by the pot. And when we were tired of playing gin and drinking coffee at home? Why we’d go to Anylise’s Hava Java, order a cup of the house blend and a bit of cake and play gin there. In the evenings we’d watch Blake’s 7, or an old mob movie from the 70’s which we’d have to watch while eating some of my homemade lasagne since invariably the people on the movies are eating yummy Italian foods themselves.

Finally, though, the day came for me to start and so I drove down to Philadelphia for my orientation and then nearly to New York City for my actual job. I’ve been at it for a few days now and have been having a blast though it is all a bit new to me as well. And to make things further exciting, Kite, Sage’s mom, arrived for her first visit to meet me. So far we’ve been having quite a bit of fun with her and her friend.

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Back in the present: So I drove myself crazy for the past 20 minutes trying two find references to this time in Sage’s journal or even a mention of Kite’s visit but either my memory of when it happened is flawed (very likely true) and it is also like that Sage didn’t talk about my losing my job out of concern for keeping my work life private which I still try to do to – at least the specifics of it.

Anyway – between that last entry and this one I feel rather a lot better about upcoming prospects. It was helpful just to remind myself how worrying about hypothetical events in the future isn’t helpful and at the same time when difficult situations come up we always get through them and are much better for it in the end. After all, getting laid off back in 1995 put me on the career path that took us to where we are today. Had I stayed in the production side of biotech I doubt I would be here in Toronto for sure – there really isn’t much in the way of biotech here. It would either be New England or California most likely. Not only that, this time in our lives – the three weeks we spent together, has been immortalized in our family vernacular as “The Gin Summer” and has taken on almost legendary status as one of the greatest times in our lives. And so I’ve resolved to just sit back, relax and enjoy the ride. If there even is a ride at all, that is.

See? And you thought I was just writing all of this for you? It’s actually quite useful to me as well!

Current stress

Taking the bus is both a blessing and a curse sometimes. Sometimes it is even both at the same time. I’m on my way now to meet Sage and Paul for trick or treating at 6:00 PM but as I only just got out of work, I’ll be cutting it close. If I were in a car I’d be speeding and stressing out a little but as I am at the mercy of transit I have a more fatalistic attitude. I’ll get there when I arrive and I’m sure I’ll have a good time whenever I arrive.

I need to cultivate this same fatalistic attitude with the rest of my life I think. Reading Jeff Greenwald’s accounts (corroborated by many others’ accounts I have read) describe Africa as the ultimate in fatalism. Shit really happens there and by all accounts the locals just roll with it while the visitors freak out. At the moment I am taking more of the “visitors” attitude when it comes to my next assignment. Of course academically I know it will be fine no matter what – heck, we managed as a family for three months without a visit while I was working in New Mexico and preparing to move here. Still, I can’t stand uncertainty. Many of our friends and family remark at our seemingly excellent ability as a family to solve problems. Take our moving from the yurt. In January we were having a hard time living there and couldn’t figure out what we needed to do but only knew that we had to get out of there. We started with an “office” in a cheap motel with only a party line to connect our laptop’s modem to. But as neither of us can stand uncertainty, we put every free resource we had into figuring out our next move. And within a month we had it totally worked out and we were moved in to our little house in town.

I am of the somewhat new-agey belief that every challenge in life is sent to us as a lesson for our own personal or spiritual development. I doubt this one is any different. In this case, I think there are at least two lessons:

The first one is to get better at riding the “river of life”. While I don’t believe in predestination or anything of the sort, I do believe in a general flow to life. Living one’s life is like piloting a canoe down a river. There are rapids, there are eddies, and a skilled pilot can have a bit of control over which side of the river he rides and thereby avoid the worst of the obstacles. At the same time, when they do hit a bit of rapids, they can either choose to put down their paddle and either capsize or run aground or choose to paddle their asses off and with a bit of work. And sometimes? Sometimes it gets foggy and we can’t see the river up ahead. And that’s the lesson being given to me now. It’s foggy, it’s dark, but hey, I’ve been at this 34 years now (35 on Saturday!) and I’m pretty sure I can handle whatever comes ahead. And so I’m being reminded once again that the only place to be is in the present moment and trust that whatever comes up we’ll make our way through it with skill and humour as we always have.

And the second lesson? Quit whining! I have a job no matter what – the question is just where I spend my weekdays (and maybe some weekends), we live in a wonderful city and the absolute worst that comes is that for a short time I have to do a bit of travel – and even the travel options aren’t terrible. Some are a bit exotic, some are warm and sunny in the middle of winter and still others bring me home every single night.

And like Cardinal Fang of the Spanish Inquisition, I’m reminded of yet another lesson after saying I only am offering two. I am being told I need to practice not worrying about potential futures most, if not allof which will never come to pass. It’s a huge waste of time and a means of generating totally unnecessary stress.

Halloween Eve

With Sage no longer going out to take pictures, all of our routines are getting adjusted accordingly. Today, while very likely a fairly ordinary Sunday by many standards was a bit unusual for us. Since we are short on money and don’t get paid until Wednesday (bizarre – I’ve never had a job that paid on Wednesday), neither of us went out to do anything that cost money. Instead, we spent the day doing homebody stuff. Sage and Paul cleaned Paul’s room and then the rest of the apartment. I, however, made a grocery list and mealplan and headed over to the store to pick up groceries. At the same time I cooked a batch of dried beans for refried beans. By the time I got back, the house was almost transformed it was so clean and I put away the groceries and helped finish the last of the cleaning in the living room.

After that, I was rather tired and so instead of heading out to have the people at Lenscrafters see what’s wrong with Sage’s new glasses, I went to bed for a couple hours. There truly is something so decadent about an afternoon nap on a weekend and by the time I woke up at about 3:30, I was both well rested and extremely groggy. I think I must have laid in the bed for 20 minutes in a bit of a fog trying to decide whether to go back to sleep for another hour or to wake up. Finally, knowing that I’d be up all night if I slept too much longer, I woke up and made a bit of coffee. What is it about late afternoon naps that (for me, anyway) results in such a full-body, -mind, and spirtual grogginess.

After I had my coffee and a sandwich we all headed out to Eaton Centre to deal with Sage’s glasses. Unfortunately, I don’t think I was the only groggy one and when, half way to the subway, I asked Sage if she brought her glasses, she grumpily admitted that she hadn’t and got off at the next bus stop and headed back home. Paul and I kept going, planning on meeting Sage at the store. As we were much earlier than Sage was, we headed outside to Dundas Square to people watch. When we got outside we found that a flamenco band was playing to a handful of onlookers and so Paul and I found a table near the fountains where Paul drew, and I sat back and listened and was otherwise basked in the happiness that I live in the city. After about ten minutes, Sage called and Paul and I got up and walked back to the mall passing a man juggling fire and promising to do magic tricks for another group of people. I really like this aspect of living here – the fact that there are unexpected interesting things happening to us every day. Sometimes I feel like a little kid for all the joy I take in little things like this.

After Sage dealt with her glasses (they couldn’t figure out why her new glasses were making everything blurry but her old ones with the same prescription weren’t so they fixed her old glasses at no cost and refunded us the money for the new ones) we headed home where I made the refried beans while Sage and Paul carved a pumpkin. Then while the beans simmered, Sage, Paul, and I turned out all the lights and told ghost stories around the pumpkin.

After dinner, Paul wanted to be read to and since I wasn’t particularly up for reading a kid’s book, I offered to read a bit from the book I’m currently addicted to, The Size of the World. Paul reluctantly agreed but after a few minutes had given up working on the domino project he was working on and came over to the couch to listen intently to the story of the author’s rather trying time in Mauritania. After Sage went to bed, Paul wanted me to continue and so we found a bit of Moroccan music on Napster and we listened and read until Paul fell asleep a few minutes ago.

It looks as if this book is going to be one of those books that monopolize my time – the ones that I have a hard time putting down when my bus arrives at work, that taunts me from my backpack while I work, and that I am thrilled to go back to when I head home in the evening. While not as humour-filled as, say, Bill Bryson, I find the writing as compelling. Probably a good comparison would be as a somewhat less whiney Paul Theroux. Anyway – probably more later on this one with a book review after I finish it.

I think I need to go to bed soon, though – after all, it is 10:00 but my body’s still thinking that it is 11:00 (much like the cats thought it was time for wet food an hour early). Have a good evening, folks.

Show your support

Tom Palumbo should get a medal or at least be recognized for his (pardon my crass expression) big brass ones. Mr. Palumbo pointed out what should be obvious to George W. – that war is terrorism (albeit with a much bigger budget). That said, I’m guessing he’s getting no shortage of hate-mail for the act. So show your support – go visit his site and drop him a friendly email to let him know that people like him are part of what will stop the country’s slide towards further imperialism and fascism.

Religion trumps relief?

I am all for letting your principles drive your purchases or your viewing habits or what you read. But when something is donated and fulfills a basic human need it is really arrogant and hateful to refuse to hand out water because your church doesn’t like the fact that a brewery donated it. More details here.

Okay – we’re really heading out now – the huge shopping cart is full of books now.

Paul, Inspired

Okay – so as expected we’ve hardly touched the list of “possible options” for today. Instead, after finding this page which talks about creative domino-toppling, Paul and I spent easily two hours playing with dominos and legos and making new and interesting setups. After that he and I worked together on learning to play “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” on the keyboard (he has it nearly figured out) and learning a bit about reading music. Doing music with him is fairly easy since he seems to have a very good sense of pitch. Like me, though, he is tempo-impaired. I learned recently that I have to have a drum line first before I can do anything with the keyboard or I sound like a warped record.

So now we’re having a lunch of masoor dal (curried red lentils), rice, and two kinds of vadai – one that looks like a lentil donut and another that looks like a savoury oatmeal cookie but is actually made of lentils and isn’t sweet in the least. And now Paul’s finished so it is time to load up the cart with books and head for the library.

Here’s a game I can get behind…

How about a nonviolent conflict resolution game. Okay – I know, sounds a bit new-agey and boring but seriously – I think it could be fun. Have a look at it here: A Force More Powerful

Open Thread – What’re you listening to?

Okay – I think I might be in a bit of a musical rut and in need of something new to listen to. What is everyone else listening to?

I hate it when this happens…

So I was half awake and looked at the clock to see that it was 5:30 AM. I decided that I might as well wake up, tried to turn off the alarm (it was off – good thing I woke up on my own or I’d be late for work!). It wasn’t until I was out in the kitchen making coffee that I realized that it was Saturday. Oh well, since I’m awake I might as well stay awake.

Today promises to be a good one. Nothing tremendously special planned but lots of potentially fun stuff in the works. Options include perhaps a wander in the park and picnic (Paul was saying he missed visiting the country but clarified that he didn’t miss living in the country), geocaching, a trip to the library, and maybe a visit to the pool. And definitely a bit of work with math – Paul even had some suggestions as to what he’d like to do on the subject.

Of course looking at last weekend’s performance it is clear that my Saturday morning plans are little more than a suggestion and the weekend could go totally differently.

Quirky Outtakes Time Machine – September 1, 1998

This one was a hard one to write. On the one hand it was around one of the best times of our lives. On the other hand, it was, without a doubt, the most stressful time I’ve ever been through hands down. The funniest thing about writing it though is that I totally imagine Paul – the Paul of today – being present for all of this. I know he was there and all but still…

September 1, 1998
A wild ride

So it was rather an amazing few days. A couple of days ago Sage and I went to see her midwife who confirmed yet again that Paul is transverse (actually resting sideways in the uterus. In other words: laws of physics aside, if he were to be born now he would come out not head first, not feet first, but ribs first. And so Sage, Kite, and I went out to lunch to discuss our options. (On a totally unrelated note, the strangest thing happened there – the waiter, seeing that Kite has about three teeth left offered in all sincerity to chew her falafel and moussaka for her). Our options were, schedule a c-section or go see a chiropractor to see if Paul couldn’t be coaxed to get his head down where it needed to be. After much discussion we realized we could do both and so decided that we would scheule the c-section but also go to the chiropractor who apparently had great success with this and if things worked we could cancel the surgery.

Anyway – to make a long story short we found ourselves a day or so later at the chiropractor’s office where she made these very subtle adjustments. Frankly, it didn’t look like she was doing anything significant – there was no cracking of bones and little more than a gentle push like I might do when giving a backrub. But what do I know.

A couple days later, it seemed like everything started to snowball. Sage started having contractions almost all the time and we made several trips to the midwife over the course of it all to see if it was really time.but every time it was the same answer – nope, just false labour. The last time, when Sage complained that she could no longer sleep, the midwife suggested a beer and a warm bath. Sage, who never drank in our whole relationship sent Kite out for a beer and drew a warm bath and got in. Kite got back a few minutes later and Sage was about to get out of the tub when a really disturbing thing happened. One side of her face sagged like someone’s would having a stroke. And at the same time she “forgot” how to talk. She seemed to understand what was going on and so Kite and I led her to the bedroom and sat her on the bed while I called the midwife who said that we needed to get to the emergency room ASAP. So we headed out and on the way there Sage seemed to get a little better. She wasn’t quite coherent but she got muscle tone back in her face and could speak again albeit not always choosing the correct words.

We arrived at the hospital in record time and met our midwife. A few minutes later we sat with a very young doctor – probably a resident – who asked lots of questions of Sage – her name, the date, and that sort of thing. That was when it got really scary – in retrospect, probably the scariest time in my life. Sage was unable to answer basic questions correctly. The year was 1984, the president? Ronald Reagan. She seemed to know something was up and looked at me to find out if she was getting the answers right. I don’t know how supportive I was – I think I just sort of stared in shock. At one point in the tiny room we were stuck in, there were a bunch of people asking lots of those sorts of questions and I just couldn’t handle it anymore. I got up and went to the bathroom where I nearly threw up. After a few minutes I composed myself, splashed a bit of cold water on my face and returned to the room.

So we spent the entire night awake – there were tests, there were MRIs, there were more stupid questions. The good thing was that she sseemed to be improving fairly quickly. By morning they had a plan. Sage would stay for an EEG and then we would go from there. Meanwhile they felt she was okay enough to go get breakfast with me so we went to the cafeteria and had a big breakfast. And as she ate, Sage returned almost to 100% normal. It was the oddest thing. We caught up with the intern in the hall who confirmed that she was doing better – there were more stupid questions and as she performed better the questions got harder until they ended up like the more obscure analogies from the SAT test. At that point, I let the doctor know that I couldn’t answer it either and she seemed satisfied.

So we spent the day there. Because of the EEG, Sage had to be able to fall asleep on command and we were instructed to keep her up all day. So we played some games, watched some TV and walked around like zombies for a while. A neurologist came in and asked more dumb questions and then left. Finally, the next day arrived and Sage was able to take the EEG. And do you know what they found out after all of this? Absolutely nothing. They have no idea what happened. The neurologist wanted to do a follow-up visit in a few weeks more, I think, to satisfy his curiosity than to provide healthcare so we declined the opportunity. We have a couple theories – perhaps it was something to do with blood flow – it all started after the bath and Paul is a big baby – perhaps he pressed on something? Perhaps it was low blood sugar – Sage improved 100% after eating breakfast. I like Kite’s idea, too – that Paul was speaking “through” Sage and being a new kid wasn’t very sure of himself. :^)

And so we went home after all of that. Well, home for a couple days until the contractions started to bug Sage again and she had been awake for days again. Finally the midwife admitted Sage to the hospital again for a shot of morphine and some of what she called “therapeutic sleep”. So we headed back in. They put Sage in a room, gave her a shot and gave me a gurney and some blankets and we slept the night. It seemed to do her a bit of good.

The next day the midwife came and did an exam. Interesting news – Paul had, indeed, turned head-down. She suggested inducing labour to take advantage of the moment while we could and though it was something we really didn’t want to do (it was on our birth plan that we wouldn’t, after all) we decided that that might be the way to go. And in a couple hours we started in.

Kite came by and we all sat together as Sage worked through the contractions. They built in force quite rapidly and before long they were quite strong. While Sage worked through the contractions, all three of us “hummed” through them (we found it to be the best way to help Sage keep focused on her breathing). Meanwhile as we did this, our midwife sat and knitted on a chair in the corner. Something about her knitting – just sitting there quietly doing an everyday normal thing was extremely centering. There really wasn’t anything more helpful she could have done. We (okay, mostly Sage) kept at it for about 8 hours until Sage was even more exhausted than ever and we stopped the pitocin. A very sweet nurse then scrounged us up some dinner and we had a lovely meal before Sage had another shot of morphine and we called it a night. Despite being really excited, nervous, and stressed, I also slept as if I had had a dose of morphine as well.

The next day started out really auspiciously. We looked out the window after waking and what should we see but a beautiful doe standing not 30 feet from our window looking back in at us. It was a beautiful moment of peace in between two of the most stressful days of my life. After that, though, things got a bit more difficult. The buildup with the contractions was much quicker and Sage, having had one hell of a week already, was getting tired. Then there was another stressful moment. Paul’s heartrate started to drop with each contraction. Apparently he was getting tired of it all as well. At this point we made a second concession to our original birth plan and went with an internal monitor. The rest of the day went by in a bit of a blur. I can see now why sleep deprivation is used as a means of manipulation by the CIA. By the middle of the day we were just of the mind that none of us could take it much longer – especially, of course, Sage. To try to buy some time Sage had an epidural and for a while that kept her going. However by about 9:00, there was still not a whole lot of progress.towards Paul’s arrival and the midwife began to discuss the possibility of a c-section. At that point it really seemed like the best idea and so, the anesthesiologist came back for another visit and we met the surgeon – a very nice though surprisingly young man.

From there on out things really accellerated – I found myself outside the OR gowning up in a very similar fashion to how I often do at work. The actual procedure took surprisingly little time. Within a few minutes, Paul was out in the world and everything went as it always seems to in the movies (well, without the smack on the behind welcoming one into the world). He was absolutely beautiful – 9 lbs, 8 ounces of baby that not only appeared to be a clone of Sage, but eerily enough looked just like the first ultrasound we saw of his face several months before. Even in my dazed and sleep deprived state I got goosebumps.

So then Sage went with Kite to the recovery room and then her bedroom. Meanwhile, I went off with Paul to the nursery where he was weighed and checked out (all was fine) before they insisted he sit there for over an hour while they observed him. All in all it was the beginning of what was going to be a hugely annoying relationship with the nurses. As obnoxious 50’s doo-wop played, I was asked no less than three times if I would like to just leave Paul alone to go see Sage. “No,” I said – after all, Sage and I discussed this option very thoroughly and she was fine with her mom in the other room. Finally, though, Paul was deemed fit to see his mother and we left the room to see Sage where Paul finally got his first nurse. In TV shows, this is where it ends. And somehow it is almost implied that at this point, the entire family goes to sleep happily – exhausted from the change and the effort of bringing someone (or being brought) into the world. But no, it wasn’t to be. After Kite left, Sage and I were on our own – and wow did I ever feel like it. Paul was having none of this sleeping thing and was pretty darned crabby at being outside of Sage. Sure, he did settle some as he was read to or had a nurse but any time we’d get to sleep he would wake us up after a few minutes. I think we might have managed to get a couple hours of sleep, though. Sage, too, was hugely sleep deprived and in pain from the surgery. Mercifully, though, morning came and it always seems better in the morning.

The next day, Paul had to leave us for a couple of hours. His left eye had a little what they called a “skin tag” – a tiny piece of skin that connected his upper and lower eyelids. It was surprisingly stressful to be without him. Surprising because just a few days before the separation from his parents wasn’t even possible.

That night was really hard. I had hardly any sleep and Paul was on a night waking schedule and didn’t let us sleep at all. Finally, at about 2:00 in the morning, after hearing him cry for several hours and being unable to figure out why (he never cried for the nurses when they came around) I broke down myself. I swear I haven’t been that upset since I was a child myself. “I can’t do this!” I sobbed as I sat next ot Sage. She talked me through it and I got somewhat under control. A few minutes later one of the strangest things that has ever happened in my life happened. At 3:00 in the morning, Kite walked through the door. After saying how glad I was to see her, I asked her why she had come so late at night. I heard a voice, she said – it said “I can’t do this!”. Three days as a parent and I got goosebumps all over again. We chatted for quite some time and then Kite sent me home where I fell into bed and slept the sleep of the dead for about ten hours.

I woke up in the afternoon and went back to the hospital to see Sage and Kite feeling totally rejuvenated by the sleep. thinking it would be helpful for Sage to sleep as well, Kite and I hatched a plan. We talked to the nurses to see if they could leave Sage alone for a few hours and we took Paul to the waiting room where we sat and chatted, read to Paul, and listened to the coverage of the hurricane that at that moment was being described as “giving birth to another hurricane”.

Three hours later we got a shock. Sage, who prior to going to sleep was unable to walk unassisted to the bathroom across the room from her had walked about 100 feet to the waiting room. I guess the sleep really did her a world of good. After that, things became much more normal. Paul still woke in the night but we were a bit more rested and were able to get by. The next morning, Sage was deemed ready to be discharged and we all headed home.

We got home and I rearranged the furniture so that the couch and the bed were in the bedroom closest to the bathroom so that Sage, who was still in a fair bit of pain, could make it back and forth a bit easier. That night I had something of a revelation:

It was about 10:00, Sage was asleep and Paul and I were awake. Paul was having his evening grumps and I wasn’t really able to figure out how to calm him. I wasn’t, that is, until I went out to the back patio with him. And then, like a switch had been flipped, Paul stopped crying. After a few minutes I went back inside and he started again. After repeating the process a few times I figured something out that I should have figured out long before. Paul, being Sage’s child, had a similar tolerance for heat that she does. This time when I went back inside I went to the room with the air conditioner (we were sleeping in the other room since everyone wrapped him so much in blankets even though it was August that we figured it was what you do). The effect was the same. Paul quieted immediately. That night I moved the air conditioner into the bedroom. And while it hasn’t been perfect, we’ve been getting 3-4 hours of sleep at a stretch which is pretty darned good.

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Back in the present: Wow – what an interesting one to write and remember all of the details. As I was writing it I totally got back into the moment. That said, at the same time as all of that, I feel like I didn’t do the experience justice. Reading over it as I wrote it looks like a hard time – which it was, but I had trouble conveying the beauty of the moment – what with the deer looking in and some of the sweet people around us. Just little moments like the nurse bringing us dinner that first night and telling us that we were doing really great nearly brought me to tears and still touches me today.

Writing this, and thinking about some of the other entries I want to write I see that our family is not just nomadic in place, but in terms of personal transformation. In our time as a family we’ve made huge sea changes in terms of how our lives were. And the transitions were never easy. In the travel book I’m reading the author likes to talk about his trying times (which so far haven’t been that bad it seems – but then I’m early in the book) as bardos in the Tibetan Buddhist sense. And really, that was what many of these times were for us. I don’t know for sure about Sage’s life before meeting me, but definitely my life was not nearly as changeful until we met. Since then, though, we’ve gone through some dramatic changes together. Each change was exciting, scary, and often difficult, but like our transition to becoming parents, we almost always were better off because of it.