Last Train to Kidzville

Our local gym has a creche - Kidzville - where members can leave their kidz for up to 2 hours a day while we tone our rippling bronzed bodies ready for the California summer or, alternatively, sear our white pasty British flesh lobster-red in the sauna in the changing rooms.  The moment had come for me to leave my baby for the first time ever!  Well, with someone who isn't a family member...and not counting all the nurses in the NICU...

I reflected on this novel thing I was feeling - guilt? - as I knelt, showering a sleeping Peter with kisses and reminding him that daddy loves him (yes he does, daddy loves you, daddy loves you very much!), while the Kidzville supervisor stared blankly down at me.  I then made sure I explained to her how to change a nappy (it's a cloth one, completely different), and that sometimes if Pete is crying it's because he wants to eat.  You know, like every other baby in the world.

I'm sure the other gym-goers thought my tears were a result of the particularly punishing program I'd selected on the Stair Master.  But how would they feel if their baby was 15 feet away in another room being cared for by a certified professional?  How can American certification be as good as British?  What if they leave Peter sleeping under something that might catch fire and then fall on him?  Or fall on him and then catch fire?

I didn't want to overdo my first workout in a while, so after twelve intense minutes I had a rushed shower and went to rescue my baby.  He was sleeping, but had woken up, played with toys far more varied and interesting than we have, had his nappy changed (correctly) and finished his bottle.  On the way home he woke up in a much better mood than he usually manages that late in the afternoon.  It will take a while to judge the long-term psychological impact of his ordeal.

As with every harrowing experience, I came out with greater knowledge: I am the parent I couldn't stand when I worked in childcare.  And this is now a baby blog.

Here's what entertainment at home with daddy looks like.  Am I surprised he loves Kidzville?

Auntie Em! Auntie Em! There's no place like home...

My sister's fortnight with us came to an end today, and she's off back to Africa via a couple of weeks in England.  She lives in Uganda; as long as we could provide consistent electrical supply and an Internet connection faster than dial-up, she's been happy!  A lot of Grey's Anatomy watching has taken place.

We've also embarked on a culinary tour, taking in such highlights as In'n'Out, Krispy Kreme, and the Pyramid Brewery.  Pete has been educated in these fine establishments too - obesity is his American birthright! - and has been enjoying much time with the family member he resembles most.  Em, pediatric nurse that she is, has been patient in answering all my "is this medically normal?" questions.  And ones about the baby too.  Come back soon Em...mainly because tomorrow is my first day alone with the child...



Too cold to jump in, apparently.  Africa has turned her soft.



Gastro-tour stop one.

Gastro-tour stop two.

Potential career move.

She then turned to homemade treats: oat cookies.

She also had time to knit Pete a few fine clothes, including this hat, which he appreciates very much.

Throwing in some education along the way (with fab BabyLit books she brought).



She even got to celebrate Cinco de Mayo with us.

She will be missed (I'm going to have to get used to being sicked on).

Son of Superman

In a cosmic confluence that may result in us all developing superpowers, Star Wars Day ("May the Fourth be with you") landed on the first Saturday in May which, as everyone knows, is Free Comic Book Day!  Comic shops around the country were giving out free issues; the geeks were out in force wearing Star Wars t-shirts - where better to experience this than in Berkeley?

We drove over the hills and down to Fantastic Comics on Shattuck Avenue, stopping by Guerrilla Cafe for a Blue Bottle cappuccino en route of course.  What lured us was the chance to meet a Stormtrooper, but sadly that opportunity (and resulting amazing photo of a Stormtrooper holding a chubby baby) didn't happen.

What did happen was much cooler.  There were three student artists who would draw your comic portrait, for free!  Hannah, doting mother that she is, was happy to spend time in a shop she wouldn't normally be seen dead in to secure an image of her baby.  And we got a full family portrait!  I've always felt special, as though maybe I'm the last remnant of a noble alien civilisation and was sent to Earth to teach and inspire humanity.  Now I've seen myself in comic form, there's no doubt.

Don't feed the wrong drink to the wrong person.



If it's got free in the title, I'm there.

Emily finds a book detailing her superpowers.

Our artist, T1mco (not her real name).

It took a while, so Em caught up on literature.

Hannah: Berkeley mother.  Of course, if she was a real Berkeley mom she'd have been breastfeeding uncovered while singing about it on an acoustic guitar.  Next time.

Look!  We're a comic book family!!  I think she's captured us all quite well, especially Pete's evil look (and giant thighs).

My free comic. Gotta stay down with the kids...of 1977.

Anything to declare?

It's never good to saddle children with unrealistic expectations, so I'm relieved that Pete is now at liberty to choose whether to become British Prime Minister or President of the USA.  Or both - I'm careful not to influence him one way or the other.

Hmmm, seems to be leaning a little to his British side.

Em here, Han gone

Hannah has survived her first day back at work.  And she enjoyed it!  Apparently it was fun not being vomited over constantly (that only happens when her boss gets really mad).  She also discovered a task that should have been done while she was away wasn't, which allowed her to feel angry and indispensable, and that always puts her in a good mood.

But before you feel sorry for poor little me, left alone with a baby and a fridge full of beer, my sister Emily has arrived!  She's a pediatric nurse.  Every good manager knows how important it is to delegate, and now that I'm back to being the full-time Executive Domestic Director I'm making sure that I excel.  It's also important for Pete to get to know his family, very well, at all times of day and night.  I'm only thinking of him.

Chevron: the company that loves.  "Thank you.  Now get me the chief exec on the phone."

Family likeness.

Days of wine and roses

As mentioned, reality restarts for Hannah on Wednesday when she returns to work. What better way to keep reality at bay than by drinking fine wines? With this highly practical approach in mind, Hannah booked us a night at a frou-frou hotel in Lodi ("load-eye"), a town north-east of WC.

Lodi is the place where 45% of the world's Zinfandel grapes are grown. This dubious fact was told to us at the Lodi visitors' centre (where they give you free wine), but I can't deny the vast expanse of vines that lined the roads. I keep forgetting how massive this country is. I know it's vast in the mountains-forests-deserts sense, but I mean how huge it is locally. An hour away from the Creek and you're in an unrecognisable delta of ruralness to rival even Somerset, and you've traveled a fraction of California's breadth.

Lodi itself is a fittingly frontier settlement, and although we diligently wandered the downtown area this morning there wasn't much to keep us there, apart from one charity shop. The area's tactic seems to be to start making booze to get the tourists in, rather than just grow grapes and sell them to other winemakers, so there are several tasting rooms dotted about the streets, all unimpressively closed on a Monday.

The hotel was a different story, a little island of enclosed paradise (that Hannah found cheap online, of course). Pete had his first introduction to a swimming pool - a gentler, warmer option than our apartment complex's ice bath - and was not entirely unimpressed. The large tub in the room, which he got to share with mummy, was much more to his liking.

And the wines? Not great, or not the ones we tried anyway. I have a psychological problem (just the one) with paying $30 for a bottle at a vineyard when Trader Joe's down the road offers oodles of incredibly tasty stuff for under a fiver. If you stretch to $8, as we do for weddings/births, you can't beat their own label cab sauv. We still mourn the disappearance of ecoVino (wine in a bag!)

There was a complimentary bottle of local Lodi wine in the hotel room when we arrived. How can you tell you've grown up? When you only drink half a bottle of the free wine. Parenthood has obviously changed us.

What I like to see on entering any hotel room.  Although TJ's plonk will be fine next time.

The view from our terrace.

Strong overtones of poo and sick.  Oh wait, that's just me, all the time now.

Lining up the varietals.



Modern mummy.

One of the dangers of indulging too heavily.

Hannah takes the more sedate route.

Ready for a dip.

That's a smile, not a desperate grimace.

The kind of swimming that Pete actually enjoys.

Breakfast

The owners parrots, that were a little noisy throughout.



I could get used to this luxury living...

What Lodi is hoping to be all about.

A local.

Sleep training is going well; Pete has me almost completely under his thumb.

Drill, baby, drill

Every parent wants their child to excel them, which - to be honest - isn't too hard in 50% of Pete's case.  But the better half has a pretty good job at a rather large company, so it was time to give the baby something to aspire to.  Down we went to Chevron HQ.

The "quick" trip for Hannah to pick up a few bits and pieces before she returns proper on Wednesday slowed significantly once we got to the offices.  Many people, several of whom Hannah claims never to have seen before, came out and asked for a cuddle.  I tried to oblige, but apparently it wasn't me they were after.

All in all, a positive start to Pete's journey to the heart of corporate America.  And, by an amazing coincidence, 25th April is Take Your Baby To Work Day.  Looks like I may get a break during my first week of going "full time".

Planning the changes he's going to make to the lobby.

Hannah's boss Matt takes Pete through his induction.

Back to her office, throwing out the 3-month-old food she'd forgotten about.

Centre of attention, as ever.

A good place to start your career.

Bedtime reading.