Laser Beams

Dear Ellie,

Yesterday we took a beleaguering trip down to the exotic, foreign country of Miami and braved suicidal motorists so that we could shoot your face with laser beams.  Okay... so maybe this adventure requires some explanation.

Back when you were in the NICU, the endo-tracheal tube and CPAPs that were helping you to breath were often attached to your face with tape.

Because preemie skin is so sensitive, that tape caused considerable irritation.  When the tape was removed, it appeared as though you had a cluster of little white pimples on the right side of your face near your mouth.  We were assured that they would go away soon, to our skepticism, and indeed they didn't go away.  It even got worse, scarring a bit, and left a nice a red spot in the shape of an eyebrow on your cheek.  It's not a big deal when you get down to it.  When all was said and done, we had expected you to have numerous scars after the ordeal of your first 4 months.  When you were first born, I would have gladly traded 10 such cosmetic scars for the health outcome you've achieved today, yet the only other real scar you have is on your forearm, from your first blood transfusion.  I suppose we should be grateful.  Still, your mother and I thought it would be hard for a little girl to grow up with a big scar on her face, so we took you to a special dermatologist in the great Latin American country of Miami.  The practice specialized in cosmetic surgery involving lasers, and while I insisted to your mother that I could probably generate similar results with my trusty laser pointer without having to spend a lot of money, she assured me that these were entirely different kinds of lasers.

Indeed, when we took you in for the procedure, the process only took a literal 3 seconds.  There were 3 or 4 fast, cartoony sounding "zaps" accompanied by intense flashes of light, followed by lots and lots of belly aching from our Ellie Belly.  It's my impression that the lasers destroy damaged tissue so that new tissue can regrow in its place, and since you are still youthful and stretchy, we're told that the scar should barely be noticeable by the end of treatment.  For now, that dull red spot has become a bright red spot for the next few days!

You still have the scar on your arm, and in a weird sort of way, I'm glad its still there.  I'd like you to always understand how fortunate you are to be alive, and that scar will always be a good reminder.

A Proud Day

Dear Ellie,

This past week was quite interesting.  You went through your 6 month growth spurt.  All of that reluctance when it came to eating evaporated and you sucked down as much milk as your stomach could hold.  By the end of the growth spurt, it seemed like something clicked inside of your head.  Like you took a leap to a new stage of awareness.  I noticed it when we were taking a stroll around the neighborhood.  Previously, whenever I took you outside in the stroller, you'd just sit back and gaze out across the scenery.  However, quite suddenly this time, you sat up in the stroller and peeped your head out of the side like a dog sticking its head from a car window.  You craned your neck at each little thing on the side of the road as it passed, then looked back at me with a shocked expression that seemed to say, "Whoa, where did all this neat new stuff come from?"

Here you are, sitting up in your stroller

Evidence of your positive development was especially keen today when the early intervention physical therapist came with a team to assess your developmental progress and examine whether you are delayed, as is so often the case with micro-preemies.  Based on the various skills you present, they give you a score and then rank you compared to other babies your age.  After making rigorous scientific observations, you were determined to be a 10 out of 10 on the cuteness scale.  Good work!  But aside from cuteness, they also determined that you were presenting as a 7 month old, even though you are only 6 months adjusted!  Even when compared to 10 month old babies, you are still considered within the normal range.  Today was a proud day.       

Halloween Parties

Dear Ellie,

Halloween has been one of my favorite holidays since before I could remember.  Just in case you take a liking to it also, I thought I'd document your very first Halloween.  Granted, from your perspective, it couldn't have been much more than an irritating, confusing hodge podge that was interrupting your naps.

The fun began at Annie and Tony's 7th birthday party, and since their birthdays landed so close to the 31st of October, it was Halloween themed!  Aunt Holly planned and arranged the party at a pavilion, your mother helped with decorations, and I vowed to make a "snake cave."  I'm sure you've heard the stories by now about the Smith Garage Haunted House Adventures when I was a kid.  About when Grandpa and our Uncle Doug turned the garage into a virtual scare-the-pee-out-of-little-kids machine.  Giant snakes and the magic mirrors and the like.  The snakes especially were frightful, to me.  I couldn't have been older than perhaps five or six, but being trapped in a corner by a giant, hissing, snapping snake that was as round as my torso was a wonderfully traumatic experience.  Even though I knew the snake was just a giant sleeve that your grandfather made (because I saw him making it), it has still to this day left a fond scar in my memory.  So what does the Smith Garage Haunted House have to do with Annie and Tony's party?  Well, some day, I'd like to leave fond scars in your memory too, and I used Annie and Tony's party as an occasion to test out the whole snake thing for future Ellie Halloweens.  

Here is the Halloween Party Pavilion

Some of your mother's "monster poofs" and her skull Jack-o-Lantern.

And the snake cave.  The best I could do in a few hours...

Sadly, it was a rather blistery day so a lot of the decorations for the party blew away into the highway (nearly causing a few traffic accidents) before anyone even showed up to admire them.  The snake cave took a beating too, partly because I wasn't thinking very hard when I used push tacks instead of nails to put the darn thing together.  Oh well, duct tape to the rescue!

As the children started showing up, the snake jumped into action.  That is to say, I scattered candy in front of the cave to lure the children over and when they were inches from the wall, the snake THEN jumped into action.

The snake guards his hard earned candy (the snake himself, courtesy of Grandpa).

As one might expect from a bunch of young kids, they were at first fearful and uncertain of the beast.  As the snake popped out from holes in the cave, they shrieked or lurched away.  Some of the children courageously darted in closer to snatch at some of the candy.  Pretty soon, though, their attitude toward the snake closely mirrored broader human tendencies when a people are faced with a terrible beast.  At first, they fear it.  Then, it fascinates them.  Then they take up arms.  Then they kill it.  Then they dance about in triumph with some part of the defeated creature's carcass.  My poor snake was no exception.     

Phase 1: Fear and Uncertainty.

Phase 2: The Humans arm themselves, using the bones of the 

snake's former victims as clubs and candy as projectiles!

Phase 3: The Humans band together and do what 
they do best... violence!  A Great Battle Ensues!

Phase 4: The Beast is Slain!  The Victors Celebrate with clenched firsts!

So there you have it, a microcosm example of why many animals go extinct (and why your father's arm gets bruised so often).  I suppose there is a last phase to the whole thing, too.  Once the snake was slain, there was great regret at no longer having a creature to do battle with.  Fortunately, the party furnished many more activities to amuse them.  From there, we moved on to numerous games that your mother and Holly prepared, with little trinkets being awarded to the winners in order to motivate them.

With the limbo, Holly and I abruptly yanked the bar down on 

the bigger kids so that the younger ones would win.

Here we have the classic potato sack race.  First one to touch 

the snake, wins!  In a momentary lapse of adult judgement 

though, I started the kids off going downhill and, well...

You can see the result for yourself.  Its a good thing kids bounce back easily...

...though I'm not sure I can say the same thing for the adults.  Look closely in

the back and you can see Sajan wiping out right out of the gate.

I'd like to think you enjoyed yourself, in so far as you can enjoy apparently random noises and movements.  A few pictures would seem to suggest that you did.

Here you are with Grandma! 

 People who didn't understand that you were dressed like a Star Trek science and medical officer thought you were a boy.  Blue is a boy color, supposedly.  Who knew?  On the upside, when we dressed you up in the same outfit for Uncle Zack and Aunt Danielle's Halloween party, there was a good bit more context, and a good bit more nerds to get the reference.

Our half Vulcan, half human baby.

First Winter

Dear Ellie,

My favorite time of year has finally arrived: that four month stretch where the sun lumbers along in the south, too beleaguered by 8 long months of trekking up the center of the sky.  The trees cast long shadows, making it seem as though every hour were in the evening.  As though all day were the end of the day, when our worries wind down and invite moments of reflection.  Cold fronts blow in, blowing away too the mosquitoes and heat and humidity.

We've made liberal use of the cool weather, though if the stroller proves too cold, I bundle you up inside of the Ergo, close to my chest, and take you on early morning walks just the same.  You peer out all the while, looking hard at each new thing before moving on to the next.  Sometimes you'll twist around and gaze back at me, your expression shifting from wonder to familiarity, before you turn once more to the strange surroundings of your first winter.  Oddly, with you here, it feels almost like its my first winter as well.  The same way that the cold seems to add a sheen of "different" to a landscape, you've done the same for all things in my life.    

Here you are, bundled up for a morning walk.

Of course, Winter in Florida is actually quite verdant compared to other temperate climates.  So much so that we actually have a winter harvest!  The first crop of green beans just arrived from your Grandma Smith's garden.

Mmm... fresh green beans!

When I was a kid, I never had issues eating my greens.  Why would I when there were so many fresh vegetables, ready to be eaten right off the plant?  The same would appear to be true for you!

      You may not have teeth yet, but you have already shown

an enthusiasm for green beans!...

 ...And lettuce!

I'm sure that as Winter progresses, I'll start to look fondly ahead to all the things I missed about summer.  There are, after all, trips to the beach and sloshing in the pool to look forward to!  Still, our first Winter together will be one we will relish.