The Crossover

Today is a big day for Ila. For us. It's the first day she's been outside of the womb longer than she was inside of it. The beginning of a new era.

For this special day, I'd like to share a little song I've been singing to Ila since she was only a few days old. I had heard on one of Jack Kornfield's meditation tapes a lovely account of a custom from an African tribe (I'm sorry to say he didn't mention which one). The tradition regards a song for a child. From what I remember, it is something like this:

When a couple first thinks of having a child, the woman goes away by herself and comes back with a song for their child to be. Then, the couple sing the song while they are making love to conceive their child. The couple sing the song to the baby while it is in the womb, and then again to the child when it is first born. And it is sung on all important occasions, including their deathbed.

I loved this idea, and try as I might, I could not come up for a song while I was pregnant. I guess the little one was too much of a mystery. But once she was born, I found words to sing to her. The melody is very simple, a song written by someone who is not a songwriter. But the song is written by her mama and the melody (and some of the words) came to her mama in the early, surreal days of this tender being's first days outside the womb. Right after her first crossover. I sing it to her when she goes to sleep, and sometimes when we're walking. I hope to make it a custom to sing it Ila for her birthdays, maybe her bridal shower. I hope it's a song she can hold with her in the days after we are gone.

I love Ila, yes I do
I love Ila through and through

I-Ila, I-Ila
I-I love you

Little Baby, who are you?
Ila Violet show me now
Every day you'll change somehow

Baby, girl and woman then
Strange to think it won't be long

Sun and stars and mystery
That is what I hope for thee

I-Ila, I-Ila
I-I love you

Shadows, song, swinging and trees
Ila loves and she is free

Speeding bikes, ducks floating by
Kicking legs and big warm smile

Life is short and life is long
In our dreams and in our song
We will meet each other all along

Ila Violet that's my name
Daddy gave me on my birthday

I-Ila, I-Ila
I-I love you

Ila's doppelganger

Ok, people, here it is. Ila's doppelganger, evil twin, lost self or just a doll that looks like her. My mom got the idea to order a custom doll ("won't it be wonderful for her to know what she looked like as a baby?"-- I hesitated to tell my mom that Ila could always look at picutures). I thought about it and since little Ila sort of looks like a doll at times, I was all over the idea.

Until I started thinking about how weird dolls really are.

Think about all the creepy movies you love, or good episodes of the Twilight Zone. Wasn't there always a doll lurking somewhere in it? Wasn't the doll possessed?

Once I got over the idea that dolls aren't really possessed, I was totally behind the idea of getting a custom doll of Ila. To find a suitable dollmaker, I combed probably 30 awful websites, I mean truly awful websites with awful custom dolls, learning that what I wanted was a "portrait doll" and deciding I wanted a porcelain doll, not a vinyl doll. I finally landed on the Dollhaven website where not only was the proprietor a dollmaker, she was a sculptor. And her website was good compared to what I'd seen. Her sculptures looked like they captured something of the original, so I figured she would have a decent aesthetic sense.

As I researched the options, I found that a truly custom doll, sculpted to match Ila would be $1800. Ouch. A little expensive. The next best option was for the dollmaker, Tammy, to recommend a doll mold in her extensive collection and would later customize the hair, coloring, eyes, etc. That would only set us back about $250. We decided on the latter option.

To make a long story short, I talked to Tammy, sent her 4 pictures of Ila, chose a mold out of 3 she recommended (she cited a 70% likeness). It took a while to make, but we opened it the day before Christmas and were pleasantly surprised.

In the photo, the dress is a little big, as I didn't like the original outfit I picked out for the doll. She's not wearing sweatbands around her elbows, those are part of the doll structure (eeks, have I crossed the line into bonafide nutdom? I called the doll "she"). I really want to get a snap of both of them in the same outfit before Ila gets too big.

What do you think? Creepy or cool?

Household filing system

I was just looking for this document for my mom (who turned me on to it), and I remembered what a help this was to get my files in order. It tells you what to keep, how long to keep it, and how to structure your system. If your filing system is a horror, check it out.

And now back to our regularly scheduled programming...

And now for a break from our regularly scheduled programming...

Weather.

Perusing a blog I occasionally read, I just found out that Tibet is having unseasonably warm winter weather. It's not just Boston where you can wear shorts in the winter! This news is very disturbing to me. Though I know the issues require global effort to slow down the changes, we all have a hand in global warming. I've half a mind to get our family to follow the efforts of "The Compacters" -- a group of people in San Francisco who decided to eschew buying anything new for a year. It might help a little, at least for peace of mind.

Happy New Year and a special Santa

Hello fabulous folks and Happy New Year to YOU. I've been taking a vacation from blogging while I visited some vacation spots well known (and others not so well known) to winter travellers: The Isle of Aches, Diarrhea Desert, Sore Throat Cruise, Mastitis Mansion, Pinkeye Spa and Resort, the Valley of Over Indulgence, and the Land of Low Energy. I also happily made a trip to the Farm of Friendly Friends and Relatives and was visited by the Spirit of Christmas Cooperation. I must say, despite my travels, I managed to enjoy Chrismukkah, despite the fact that the cross cultural reindeer pinata had to be drawn and quartered because no grown adult could whack its tough skin hard enough to reveal the tasty treats on Christmas Eve.

It was Ila's first Christmas! And she got to see Santa!

So, what was so special about Santa, you ask? It all started when I asked a mother's email list where I could get a photo of Ila with Santa. Now, mind you, I did ask about getting a photo. I didn't ask where she could see good Santa. So, well, lets just say I sorta set myself and Ila up.

After no more than one minute of consideration, I settled on a visit to the Santa in the Woodland Country Fair Mall, otherwise known by local teenagers as the "Dirt Mall." Ila got dressed up in her Grandpa Oakley's baby sweater and cap, a perfectly preserved darling white outfit with a tiny blue elephant applique on each. As Joel and I proudly toted her up to the Santa Station, I showed her the Christmas trees and pointed out the lights to her. As any reasonable person might guess, I was exposing Ila, for the first time to the spectacle of Christmas (albeit this was the Woodland Mall, not Union Square in San Francisco).

What did Santa's helper say? (By Santa's helper I mean the 18 year old girl at the table ringing up people in the nonexistant line for photos.) Did I hear that right? Oh, yes, I did. She said "Is she a screamer?"

Hmm, I thought, that's odd. Anyone who knows babies knows they need a little time to warm up. Well, push on I shall. I just explained to her that Ila needed a minute to warm up to ensure a good photo.

We decided upon 8 wallet size photos. And Santa's helper replied, "Ok." Then she turned to the photographer and informed him that that we "only" wanted 8 wallet photos. Good lord, I don't really need an 8x10 of Ila with Santa. Where on earth would I put it? Nor did I need to spend more than $20 (which is what the photos cost).

So up to Santa we marched, still proudly, and I noticed that Santa was, well a tad young to be a convincing Santa. He had twinkling blue eyes, true, but his eyebrows were, well dark brown. And he looked a little young in the face.

When I brought Ila up to him, he literally poked her in the stomach like the Pillsbury Doughboy and said "He, He." He apparently had no experience dealing with little babies. It was odd, but still we persisted.

The photo went off without a hitch, and sweet little Ila gave an endearing smile despite harboring 3 teeth buds under her tender gums. The photographer helped us choose a nice photo. And I sat down and waited for them to come out.

Well Joel took off to buy a last minute gift. Having time to kill and no cash, I started talking to the photographer. But not before I was warned by Santa's helper, "you can look at the photos, buy you cannot take them without paying."

The photographer seemed a friendly chap, and I wanted to let him know where I had found out about his stand. He immediately informed me "Oh, I don't work for the mall. These guys do," gesturing to Santa and his helper, "but I'm an independent contracter." He obviously wanted to make a clear delineation between himself and the inferior mall employees.

With a nod of his head, the photographer said, "He" (meaning Santa, but carefully not dignifying him with the moniker) "is the maintenance guy at the mall," and "she" gesturing towards the cashier, "works someplace at the mall." This explained to me why the helper was such a B*&ch and why Santa smelled like Pine Sol.

Well suffice to say, I saw Santa's exact suit, which could be bought off the rack at the Target in the mall, later that night. Oh yeah, I'll be looking for another Santa next year.