An Urban Girl

Around 4 weeks go, BabyUrban seemed… well, different. She seemed moody. And over the course of a weekend, she treated us to a few rather loud and ear piercing shrieks, which left us dizzy and exhausted. Finally, assuming that our sweetness was experiencing some pain, baby Motrin was purchased, and one dose was administered. Problem solved! This past week, 4 weeks later, the same moodiness reappeared. After going through all the suggested remedies: spending all waking hours in play groups, in parks, singing, taking baths, and holding her in front of the mirror for hours on end, strawberry flavored Motrin was once again brought out and administered. I secretly became suspicious that perhaps BabyUrban is PMS’ing. However, very early this morning, two prickly tiny teeth were discovered peeking through her gums. Sometimes the most obvious facts of life leave you completely flabbergasted!

When you are a hyphenated, straddling two distinct cultures and languages simultaneously, certain relationships at times become a mine field to maneuver. Taboos, norms, niceties, expectations, and even simple personal liberties in one culture do not necessarily translate into another, which leaves you bewildered, with a dictionary always at hand. A hyphenated friend who was a parole officer assigned to an ethnic gang of murderers, drug and sex traffickers, once told me that when he met with the convicts’ parents, they genuinely felt that their children were only immature and just guilty of “kids play around the neighborhood”. I am currently a character out of a Jane Austin novel… trying to manage a difficult situation in the manner of Elinor Dashwood and Mr. Ferrars ’ mother. But even more complicated, by the virtues of culture and language. What one considers unkind, manipulative, controlling and egotistical, the other sees as just an expression of nobility, care, and PRIDE (the goo

We decided to take a baby sign language class. I wasn’t really planning to, especially since all the women in my family (and my husband’s for that matter) spoke early and still continue to have plenty to say. I decided to sign us up, just because I want to enjoy as many experiences as I can with BabyUrban. On the drive over, I heard that familiar faint whisper reassuring me: “You can’t learn a new language. Especially when you are so sleep deprived!” But just then a baby giggle from the back seat, reminded me of all the new things I want to learn and enjoy with her. At 9:30 sharp, a dozen mommies, babies, and one daddy, crammed into a friend’s guest suite all studiously facing Teacher Bill , a dancer, teacher, businessman, hand model, fashion show director, parent, and a charismatic man. By the end of his class we knew the benefits of sign language and the signs for about 50 words. Not too bad for a bunch of sleep deprived new parents! Amazingly, Teacher Bill kept our attention over th

To have a fabulous day take a pretty little basket and put all your perfect moments in it. Get a soundtrack. One that capture the importance and nuances of your various endeavors and activities. As I sit here writing on this beautifully overcast Tuesday afternoon, goose bumped, a little by the breeze coming through the window, a little by the beautiful music of Norah Jones, and a little by the whimpers of my intermittent napper, I know this is a perfect moment in time. Exercise your lovely eyelashes and blink. Nothing we do is mundane – except getting lost in our mundane thoughts. Close your eyes. Open your eyes. And See the beautiful room you are in. See your job – so many others are doing without one in these saddening economic times. See your loved ones. See your hands in front of your face and take a deep breath to give thanks. It doesn’t matter what you see, as long as you are really looking to see the life around you. That’s all it takes to pluck another perfect moment to place i

I have always viewed plane rides as a time to rejuvenate. A time to savor a good book, magazines, movies, music, a nice drink… In spite of all the post 9-11 hassles of air travel, I melt at the captains instructions: “relax, sit back, and enjoy the flight.” And even with our new baby, we have enjoyed flying since she was two and a half months. Last weekend we took a short holiday to Vancouver. As usual we had picked our flight to coincide with our six month olds’ “Happy Time”. And happy she was, as she sat on her daddy’s lap cooing and cuddling. Proud and blissful, about to enjoy my airport bought sandwich, I took notice of a passenger ahead of us that kept turning around and shooting glances at my child. I awaited her next glance to return a lovely smile, as to acknowledge her admiration of our perfect little traveler. But after the next “agoo” from BabyUrban, I caught a snake eye directed towards my baby's head from 29 A. I kept watch, and for the next hour and a half, our little