our Portland week, Part III: family time

woops - this one was supposed to go in the first post - Grandma Rena and Bennett at home

visiting my great-aunt, Nadine (Z's great-great aunt!)

the zoo with Grandma Rena, Unkin Dave, and Miss Enin (Uncle Dave and Miss Erin)

We spent the most time at the lion statues. Couldn't tear Zoralee away. She must've been tired of the separation glass at all the other cages / displays / pins / homes / dens / caves / ponds. These are not warm, moving, growling flesh, but at least you can climb them.

I had daydreamed of taking Zoralee to the Portland zoo for so long, and I'm very glad we went. I'm excited to take her again - to a zoo here in Texas. Oh, we're in Texas, by the way. That's for another blog post. But yeah, that particular day was a weirdy for me introspectively. I'm generally not happy to see anything in captivity, even zoos where many of the animals are abandoned or injured and wouldn't survive the wilds, but I was mostly fine about the animals that day. Truth was, I hadn't felt so awful in a long while about human reproduction as I did at the zoo. I can't exactly put my finger on it.

Sometimes being in a crowd does that. Most everybody appears to have a sucky life, with little to no concern about their own health or deep contentment, much less that of their spouse or children or other fellow zoo-goers. And I wonder what the heck we're doing making more of ourselves. God's initial command to mankind, from a Judeo-Christian perspective - the one about being fruitful and multiplying - uhhh, okay, check! That one's covered. We done multiplied and dominion-ized each other and everything else into a bloody mess. How's about we move on to the next task??

That got me wondering if human ovulation and fertility are affected negatively by crowds. Generally speaking, evidently not, since some of the most populated places are.....still....populating...., but I mean when you're not used to the stress of the crowds, the cities, the noise, the clutter. This isn't a rant about global population control, which gives me the willies. See, even if there only existed the 300 people I saw at the zoo, I'd be having these thoughts - back and forth between hoping the earth flies out of rotation and into the sun, and finding beauty and meaning in a single weed in the field.

And despite it all, I'm anxious to have another baby. So, shoot. I don't know.

The zoo.

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Hm. That was a real Debbie Downer way to end the post. Tell you what. I just received in the mail two sets of popcicle molds for the freezer. They are gorgeous. I will show you a picture sometime. Today I am throwing into the food processor yogurt, strawberries, honeydew melon, cherries (from Hood River, Oregon - I let my eyes well up a bit when I saw them at the grocery store here in south Texas), and maybe a tad bit of apple juice if it seems too thick. Then, I'll pour the mixture into these new molds, throw them in the freezer, and later in the day, we'll be eating homemade popcicles, just like in my childhood. YAY. And a good thing too, since it's always hovering around 100 degrees.

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More later. I am determined to get back into the swing of blogging.

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Cheerios!

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(*the first five pics and the one of Aunt Nadine are from Erin or Mom)

our Portland week, Part II - the NICU

For the actual story of Bennett's time in the NICU, see Rachel's blog. Meanwhile, here are some pictures.

matching poses - Uncle Dave and Bennett David

When Bennett was a day old and still at home, Dave texted, wondering what was going on. He was miserable about having to work. I said something like, "The usual. People are nursing babies. Zoralee is running around. Bennett is polishing up on his tight-rope walking." Well, the next day, we found ourselves in the NICU, and the curtains around B's bed had a circus theme and included this tight-rope walker. So, we thought that was something fun. Just keeping the babies inspired, I guess.

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This is a memorial garden at the hospital where we sometimes lounged between our bedside moments. There are plaques and memorializing artwork everywhere for people who have died. We watched cancer patients and other sick people slowly make their way down paths through beautiful exotic plants and flowers. We waited in limbo for word on when we could visit our little B, who was surrounded by precarious wee ones, up there on the second level, behind heavy, locked doors. You could only enter if you thoroughly sanitized yourself and swore off perfume. Meanwhile my own child ran through the sunny garden, weaving among the sick, waiving incessantly and hoping for some response to her, "hi! hi! hi! hi!" Then she'd stop to reach for the toes of a cold stone statue. It all felt like we were bridging a quiet, un-nameable gap between death and life, energy and stillness.

Hopefully we get some kind of hospital discount for our lawn-watering efforts. Now, don't judge; by the time we noticed a half nude, squatting child in our periphery, it was pretty much too late. All foliage is fair game to a country bumpkin, poor thing. Thanks, Ma, for the pics.

our Portland week - Part I: first two days with Bennett and the fam

Here're the first couple days of Bennett's life, picking up as we arrived to Cam and Rachel's house, when Bennett was two hours old. For birth pictures and a very riveting birth story, and all the updates since then, see Rachel's blog!

practicing the burrito wrap

The pics with me in 'em are from Erin - thanks, gal!