Mortimer's Dad

Of Paparazzi and Bottles

I mentioned in my prior post that I was starting to feel very "special"here in Hefei. Well,let me revise the comment and say that I feel like Brad Pitt or George Clooney. The Wife, Sprout and I went shopping yesterday for shoes, toys and the like. We headed for one of the big department stores in downtown Hefei. To say that we stopped traffic is an understatement. Sprout came equipped with Robeez. Robeez is a fine product for a slipper but Sprout required an actual pair of shoes. Our first stop was the shoe department. Within one minute, we were surrounded by 9 salespeople. Sprout is surely large for her age, but I think 9 salespeople is taking it a little too far.

The intense staring, nay outright stupefaction and physical fixation on us is astounding. The Chinese, at least here in Hefei, are nothing is not forthright. People literally stop whatever they are doing, whether it be riding their bikes/motorcycle like contraptions or walking and will stare at us in utter disbelief. Not even my engaging in banter or waving at them can break the trance. It really can be quite disturbing.

Also disturbing was Sprout's decision to awaken from a deep slumber at about 1:17 am. Despite my Wife reassuring me that I am quite deaf, I seem to be the sole individual in our household who can pick up the sound of dogs/children whimpering during the overnight hours. Sure enough, I heard Sprout's muted, but insistent plaintive wales for something. what to do? The four of us sleep in an area about 3 feet squared with the 2 kids about 1 large toenail apart. Do I let the wailing continue unabated until it coalesced into an outright sobbing thus waking everybody? Should I be proactive and grab the child and feed her a bottle? If I did, how would I get her back to sleep without waking everybody? Or, easiest, just let my Wife deal with it?

Displaying sure signs of sleep deprivation and early signs of dementia, I grabbed the bull by the horns and snared Sprout out of bed and gave her a bottle. I was a bit rusty at the outset, but all ended well as she swigged down the bottle and returned to her peaceful slumber. Even Mortimersmom gave me a thumbs up. Nice to know that parenting skills, once picked up, can be taken off the shelf after years of disuse.

An Update

Partaking in a nearly 30 hour travel odyssey inevitably yields a post or two. First, I want to thank all of Mortimersmom's readers who actually took a second out of their day to send me their well-wishes. Were I an emotional being, I might have shed a tear. Seriously, I really appreciate the gesture.

Well, we are in the calm before the storm. I find myself feeling a lot like Bubble Boy. Sarah has been pretty great so far today. Aside from waking up way before the crack of my dawn, things have gone smoothly. It's almost as if we have everything under control. But, who am I kidding? We are sitting on a powder keg.In less than 18 hours, we are going Doublemint- twice the kids, twice the flavor, twice the fun. To compound the situation, our newest addition will not be a mass of uncoordinated human baby matter. Rather, Sprout is already 17 months old. She will be of a beastly proportions which will result in nearly immediate chiropractic work for me. The latest reports we had on the new one is that she is quite developed and can grasp things with strength along the lines of famed Russian weightlifter Vasily Alexeev. Finally, she has been characterized as "stubborn".  So, the mere fact that I feel all is well and I have the time to wax poetic reveals just how dissociated from reality I am.

Hefei, the city we find ourselves in here in the People's Republic of China, has been quite fascinating. There is some type of undefinable odor that permeates the city. It is not toxic or oppressive just omnipresent. The locals really can't get over the sight of a bunch of whities with big noses who happen to be proud parents of little Chinese children. I really feel "special" here. Traffic moves here with reckless abandon as neither pedestrian, motorist, nor multifaceted bicycle like objects yield one inch. Horns blare with a frequency rivaling the syndication of Seinfeld. Finally, the Chinese smoke. I would even say they smoke alot.

The most interesting facet to Hefei is the food. There are far more sweet potato vendors here than coffee shops in Montreal. You can literally buy a sweet potato every 10 feet in downtown Hefei. I did not even know that the Chinese liked or grew potatoes. When was the last time you had potatoes at a Chines restaurant. Speaking of restaurants, I am quite a fan of Anthony Bourdain. I think I am going to take my health in my hands and do like Anthony as there are a ton of really dingy, dirty, dark and totally disgusting looking restaurants that seem to be selling good smelling food. I really must try one of these joints. The million dollar question is just what kind of meat are they selling.

Well, I am about to break out of my bubble as Mortimersmom and Dumpling's supposed nap time is about to come to an end. Next we speak, I'll probably already be in line for counseling and hernia adjustment...

Regularity

Months of inactivity followed by back-to-back posts. who would have thunk it? In any case, I highly recommend adopting a dog. Sure they are lovable, provide boundless amounts of unconditional love (whatever that means) and are a constant source of companionship. I find the true value of my dogs lies in their ability to keep me regular. You see, the household is busy these days. Dumpling goes to school 5 days a week, the house is being renovated and the Hanukkah/Kwanzaa/Christmas rush is hitting the store. I find a moment's peace everyday by getting the dogs out for their morning jaunt by 6:30 am. That is to say, Lucy places her 80 plus pound girth on my midsection while Mortimer gently gnaws my earlobe as an indication that sleep time is done. I slip into yesterday's clothes and head out into the darkness (trust me in the Northeast anything before 7am or after 4 pm is sheer darkness). I do not know what it is about the morning walk. Somehow, the combination of the fresh air, walking and watching them get their business done always results in me emptying my bladder immediately upon my return. They are better than bran, prunes Ex lax and metamucil combined. Has anybody else experienced this?

Life In Flux

As my great aunt would say, life is going to hell in a hand basket and quickly. Our household lies in a sea of anarchy. The contractor called last Friday giving us 48 hours to clear out both the basement and the garage. In a future posting I will explain the the disaster in the basement. It suffices to say that fixing sh*t costs a ton. Hence, our home entertainment system (suitable for a small mess hall) has been shoved into our living room (yes the room that was done on Trading Spaces). Dumpling's toys have been moved en masse to the attic which leaves about 5 feet of free space. These are the most egregious spots of clutter in the manner. Basically, wherever you look, there's clutter. 24/7 I feel like the lady in the Calgon commercial who pleads to be taken away somewhere...

As if this was not enough...the clutter situation follows me to work. We have a nice shop in the old part of town. We are the storefront on the main level while there are 4 floors of offices on top of us. Naturally, there is an elevator as well as a stairwell to access the offices. The bottom of the stairwell has become the bane of my existence. You see, someone in the building has begun to use the bottom of the stairs as their personal landfill/recycling depot. Inconveniently for me, the stairwell is located right in front of the store. Has society's cohesion become so fragile that garbage dumping has become an accepted ritual?

You must be wondering where this rant is heading? That makes 2 of us. In any case, I can usually find some solace in my diet. Many would say the word regimented is too generous in describing the variety of foods I ingest. For instance I drink Homo Milk and Rougemont Apple Juice. That is it. Whatever is happening around me, I always know that the great taste of Homo Milk or (never and) Rougemont is around the corner. Well, guess what? If you clicked on the link, you will notice that the 1.89 litre bottle is no longer around. That was the only juice I drank. Now, surrounded by the furniture/clutter anarchy, the garbage anarchy at work I wander like my Jewish predecessors through a desert of thirst trying one crappy apple juice brand after another. You can not imagine how parched I am. By sheer fluke, I hit a giant stash of old apple juice at the kosher bakery this morning. Like a druggy jonesing for their next hit, I forked over the one dollar premium per bottle for the rush of good apple juice. But, this only delays the inevitable. I will need to find a new apple juice. Any suggestions?

What is Dumpling?

To use professional jargon, I think we have a "developing situation". In what is turning out to be a horrible cross between the seminal film Teen Wolf and Kafka, Dumpling can't decide if she is all human, all dog or a "healthy" mixture of the two. Things took a turn for the worse Friday night when, in a desperate attempt to feed Dumpling, Mortimer's Mom fed Dumpling little pieces of food at a time and let her eat it in a similar posture to the dogs i.e. Dumpling had one leg on the table much as Mortimer and Lucy do when they are searching for balance while trying to steal tabletop scraps. A little innocent fun, with nutritional value kicked in. Could it hurt?

In short, yes. Dumpling now likes to lick the dogs' water bowl. IN all honesty, this development has been going on for some time. If we leave Dumpling unattended for a few minutes one of her favorite routines is to plunge face first in to the water bowl and lick away. She has extended her dog behavior to foods such as jello where she will stick her face in the bowl and try to eat via licking. It has gotten to the point where we are thankful when she opts to eat food using her hands. Who needs cutlery?

While this tale may seem sordid, the truly shocking part has yet to be divulged. For the second time in the span of a week, Dumpling attempted to take a dump in the middle of the back yard. Her acute dog observational skills have been put to good use as she attempts to squat in as similar a fashion to Mortimer as she can without falling over. Yesterday's attempt succumbed to gravitational pull and she wound up with a posterior delicately sprinkled with grass, dirt and a pebble.

Let's all offer a prayer of thanks to the man upstairs as Dumpling's daycare begins Thursday...

Hot Fun In The Summertime

The basic lesson I have learned since the store opened and, interestingly enough, since Dumpling arrived is that you never know what's around the corner. Of course, if the meteorological conditions best approximate a monsoon, or the Dumpling wakes up with a fever of 105, it's not going to be a good day. But most of life takes place in the middle ground  so how each day will unfold is a mystery  that I only partially enjoy.

A case in point was this past weekend. We had a major computer snafu at the store and nobody was happy. I let the Wife work for me o Friday and due to unforeseen circumstances, I was on Dumpling Duty for most of the  weekend. Despite the great day we had on Sunday, it was with some trepidation that I waved goodbye to Mortimer's Mom as she headed to work at 8:30 Monday morning.
It is at these moments that I feel titanic guilt. How can I actually worry about entertaining the Dumpling?  Considering all the things we went through to have a child, I should cherish the opportunity to spend an entire day together. Despite this rock-solid rationale thought process, the fear of having "one of those days" is omnipresent. Instead of being carefree, my thought process is locked on things such as will she be bored, will she decide to have a day long tantrum, and what kind of battle ground will lunch be.

All of these concerns were for naught on Monday. She ate like a pig, slept like a baby and the day passed by faster than one of those rides at the mall. Perhaps the best time was had late in the afternoon when Daddy dipped deep into his imagination to come up with an exercise/musical chairs routine. You may not know me, but trust me, the idea of me leading any type of exercise routine is absurd. Think of the weatherman in Will Ferrell's Anchorman and you have an approximation of my posture/rigidity. Nevertheless, the Dumpling had a grand ol time pronounced by her fantastic laugh. As the sun started to set she complained of being chilly. I told her to get her doodoo (French for blanket) and sit in her lawn chair. Sure enough, she returned with her blanket and and took a seat in her chair with her blanket up to her chin and and  the brim of her hat down over her eyes soaking in the last few rays beside Papa. Besides for being a nasty run-on sentence, I felt both a profound sense of relief that the day went off without a hitch and that I could actually choreograph an exercise routine.

Ain't No Sunshine

There is no way to overestimate the value of sunny days. Due to a computer malfunction at one of our stores, the Dumpling and I had the pleasure of spending Saturday together. Although we both lived to tell the tale (actually, at this point, only I can tell the tale) I am pretty sure the Dumpling's Boredom Factor Quotient (B.F.Q) was almost off the scale. The skies varied between dark gray, and piss pouring rain. As a result, we were relegated to using our imagination for entertainment. As things turned out, that lasted until 3 pm when Daddy ran out of ideas. The rest of the afternoon was dedicated to such scholarly pursuits as trying to figure out which of the 4 Wiggles episodes on the PVR were Dumpling's favorite supplemented by watching Saturday's Wiggles episode. Hardly the stuff of legends.

Today, on the other hand, was spectacular. The sun was shining, we had a high of 25 degrees (77F), and a breeze was blowing out of the northwest. In other words, it was a great day for a fundraiser. The Wife was sagacious enough to buy a new Play-Doh contraption  during our morning visit to Wal-Mart. Dumpling and I had a blast feeding Play-Doh in one end, and extracting wicked formation from the other. A huge lunch and a medium nap brought us to mid afternoon brought us to this event.  I have known the Shtern/Kaspi klan for most of my life and their dedication is nothing less than astonishing. Between the huge slides, pony rides, petting zoo and the good old park, the Dumpling was good for hours.

Upon returning to the Manor, Mortimer's Mom was off to work leaving the Dumpling and I to settle in for the evening. With the sun still shining, we went for a late afternoon swim. By the way, our filter exploded recently so I recommend a hearty constitution as we were surrounded by various debris and decaying organic matter. We followed this up with sandbox time and a BBQ and next thing you know it's bedtime!

Like Bill withers said ain't no sunshine when you're gone...

Aren't Toddlers Sweethearts?

As the Dumpling ages, things definitely improve. Her communication skills have grown by leaps and bounds, she has mastered levels of coordination that I have yet to attain, and confrontational diaper changes have been relegated to history's musty dustbin. However, with the good must inevitably come the bad. The Dumpling has blossomed into a contrarian of the first order.

No area has been harder hit than the Dumpling's eating regimen. In fact, there is no longer an eating regimen as it has gone to hell in a handbasket. In the good ol days, Dumpling would be delighted with any culinary offering and an added bonus was the presence of a spoon and/or fork. Of course, she would then proceed to spew food, give the dogs her food, and use jam as a hair conditioning treatment, but still, this part of the meal took seconds.

This is in stark contrast to the meals of today. Any question that includes the words what do you want is responded to with a dramatic and drawn out ahhhhhhhh which has got to last at least 8 seconds as both her parents wait on eggshells for a response. If she is in a good mood, Dumpling will reply promptly with gibberish sounding something like yogurt. That might sound encouraging, but one cannot simply give Dumpling a yogurt. She must select the package personally which requires extensive manipulation of said yogurt containers and some incoherent, but absolutely necessary, incantations. This deliberative process extends to every part of the meal i.e. all utensils must be chosen personally by the Dumpling  after extensive examinations for who knows what, and the same goes for her drinking vessel. I say vessel because sometimes she is in the mood for a sippy cup, while other times she wants to drink out of a cup the size of the thimble in Monopoly.

This ritual extends to all food groups. If you are foolish enough to present her with fresh, juicy grapes in a bowl she will scoff at your measly effort by momentarily losing her spinal cord and collapse in a heap of tears. Of course, once she picks her own grapes (from the same container you just picked from) and puts them in her own bowl, then things are peachy keen.

I do not wish to exaggerate or elicit any sympathy. After all, there are only three meals in a day so there is not constant strife. The rest of the day, the Dumpling is pretty much a doll. It's just that at times, she can really test my patience....

Getting It Right

Nothing feels better than getting it right. It's that feeling of exuberance one has after hitting a ball with the sweet spot of your bat, the thwack your club makes when you connect perfectly with your golf ball off the tee etc. I say this based entirely on folklore as the furthest I have ever hit a baseball was a fly ball to extremely shallow center field, and making perfect contact with a golf ball remains an elusive dream. But....

We got things right over the weekend. By fluke I noticed that Blue Rodeo was playing Battery Park in Burlington, Vermont. Not only were they playing there, but the concert was to be held between 6&8 pm and it was FREE! Yoo Hoo! The hours between 6 & 8 are the wilderness for us and the Dumpling. By the time dinner is over, bedtime is approaching so we don't want to get her too riled up. But what is there to do besides watch TV/do puzzles/read to her? Not much unless there's a free Blue Rodeo Show.

No questions asked, we made a day of it. We pulled in at 3:45 just in time to shoot the breeze with Jim Cuddy . Not only did he remember Dumpling's name, but he serenaded her briefly and let her strum his guitar. Not a bad start for my daughter's concert career.

Having hit a high note, we kept the hits coming by raiding Shaws grocery store for some US contraband like Product 19 , Seeds of Change Pasta Sauce , and various chip concoctions for the Wife and Dumpling. I apologize for making all of you readers hungry with that bevvy o' treats.

With about an hour to go before show time, I took the Dumpling to a nearby park where she had a blast while my Wife sat alone, bored to tears being roasted by the late day sun. Hey, not everything can come up roses.

Needless to say, the concert was great and Sarah put on her finest dancing shoes. She danced freestyle for much of the evening but whenever her creative fuel faltered she just slipped into Wiggles mode and made any necessary adjustments. Despite the plethora of youngsters in attendance it did not seem that many folks were familiar with Wags the Dog, or Dorothy the Dinosaur.

To cap off a perfect evening, we met up with the band backstage after the show and got some more pictures. The Dumpling slept like a baby all the way home. What a day!

MUST SEE TV

Not posting for a month really cuts down on readership... so for the .5 people per day who continue to frequent this blog, the Wife and I as well as 2 of our friends will be on Trading Spaces tonight at 9 pm. It should be a hoot. As always, feel free to email me should you have any questions about tonight's episode, your love life or any dog-related worries. It's one of the perks to being a Mortimer's Dad reader.