How Is Time Moving So Fast?

It has been an amazing month watching our son learn new things, grow, and begin to understand more of the world around him. There have been a few instances that have tested our patience especially with regard to the reflux but, overall, we couldn’t have asked for a happier or loving baby. And seeing him in the morning and when I get home at night are what really completes my day. Seeing that smile on his face when I walk in the door, seemingly saying “hi daddy”, never gets old and lets me forget about anything that may have been bothering me during the day.

While he is not yet found any interest in rolling over (or being on his belly for that matter), he is still doing things that are still amazing when I think about the fact that he is only 4 months old today. In addition to his enjoyment of being on his feet with little support from mommy or daddy, he also just started sitting up by himself. They may only be for a few seconds at a time but it is much more than many babies his age.  

He has found a new interest in the various toys that have been sent to us or that we have picked up over the past few months. While he still prefers his ball which we have tethered to his car seat, he is also enjoying the car keys and some of the other things that we have bought. Unfortunately, he has also figured out how to throw things. He also enjoys pushing the buttons on mommy’s cell phone when she is talking to daddy. The big toys are proving to be very useful as well as we can now put him in the exersaucer where he is perfectly content playing with everything around him and making the train go around the track.

While I have had to tell him for months whether or not I would be home late in the evening, he is now responding to more and more of what we are saying. He knows his name (he will learn the importance of his name later) and is able to respond to some of the simple requests that we make like to hold on when we pick him. He is now a fully interactive child (not like the creepy one in AI) with each day more interesting than the next.

I am sure that I have forgotten a variety of things that have happened and developments that have occurred over the past month but that should give you a basic idea. It is quite the ride that we are on and one that keeps getting better with every dip and turn. And even though there is a lot of puking and crapping of pants, it is still a ride that we are so glad and thankful that we got on. Happy 4 months baby!

PS – Sorry in advance for the shots at the doctor’s office tomorrow.

Three City Friendship

Our old lunch spot half a block from the office in New York City. 

After not having seem one of my best friends in nearly four years we have now had the chance, however brief it may have been each time, to get together twice in the mast couple of months. This time I was able to introduce him (and his welcoming parents) to our son who actually has the same name. It is still a little odd considering that we used to see one another nearly every day when we both worked for the same PR agency in Manhattan years ago. After having made the time on a business trip to Chicago in late March, he was in the Philadelphia area for a wedding this past weekend.

Since those days of long lunch breaks (mostly at Ben’s on 38^th Street) and lengthy conversations after work while we walked to the train there have been a lot of changes that have happened in each of our lives. And I’m not just talking about geography. It is really interesting to think about how our perspectives have shifted since then and the experiences that we have both had that have brought each of us to this point in our lives.

While my wife and I have moved around quite a bit finally settling back in the area where we grew up, my friend has done the opposite by moving away from family and now enjoying a successful career in the middle of the country. Since the day that we first met at the office we have each gotten married (and were groomsmen at each other’s wedding) with my wife and I taking the next step by starting a family and my friend finally breaking free from a wife that, to put it nicely, epitomized the greed and self-centeredness that seems to becoming more pervasive in the younger generations. While completely different journeys we are both happy with where we are now and what seems to be just beyond the horizon.

Even with everything going on, good times and bad, we have always remained in contact and did our best to keep things in perspective for one another. I can’t stress enough the importance of having a friend that offer this when you need it. We have each had some great times and some difficult times of the years and it has been nice getting together lately to talk about the positive changes that have happened and the optimism that is now part of our daily routines. Even when we shared a common company this was not always the case.

Hopefully, the visits will become less sporadic in the future as we continue to enjoy life and the different paths we chose to take. If anything, it is interesting to hear about the different turns and detours that life can take us on. Regardless, we will be certain to talk on a regular basis (not always a guarantee with me as many of you know) and keep one another up to date as to the great changes and experiences that come our way.

What’s In A Name?

One of the hardest if not the hardest decision that my wife and I have had to make was when we had to come up with a name for our son. We went back and forth countless times and consulted more books and websites than I can recall each time writing down anything that appealed to us. We couldn't decide between choosing a traditional Jewish name and those names that can be found in our extensive family trees. After we each wrote a few options down we would share with one another. This eliminated many of the options. More still were eliminated when we considered the names of some of our young relatives.

After several months going back and forth we had a few options both of first names and middle names, Jewish names and family names, some that we both really liked and others that had a certain amount of indifference with one or both of us. About a week before our son arrived we sat down and looked at the options that we both liked. We played around with the names switching between first and middle as well as family and non-family names. We also considered some of the surnames on my wife’s side for the middle name… after all it has worked for me.  

I guess there were about 5 first and 5 middle names that it came down to. Not being able to figure out what exactly fit our son we both took turns just saying them out load to see what sounded right. This is when we notice something very special. Each time we read the names our son decided to cast his vote. It didn’t matter whose voice, he consistently kicked, punched, or head butted when we would say each name… one first and one middle. Not many parents can say that their son chose his own name but we can.

His first name is one that runs throughout both sides of my family. When looking throughout the tree I see it across many branches with various surnames in tow: Teaford, Hallman, Uttley, Redcross, Cooke, Clapsaddle, Ardis, Noblit, and a few others. It runs throughout the generations and it has always been a family name. In addition to the recent significance and honor that the name carries it was also the name of my great great grandfather Uttley, a member of the Philadelphia Police Department for over 50 years, who raised my grandmother after her parents divorced. My 5^th great grandfather Redcross, member of the Monacan Nation and Revolutionary War soldier. My great grandfather Hallman who served in WWI. My 5^th great grandfather Noblit, one of the early residents of Middletown Township in Delaware County who saw much of his property seized during the Revolution.

With our son selecting his first name from my side his middle name had to be one of significance in my wife’s family. Thankfully our son agreed and chose a name which, according to what I have been told is the name of the last in a long line of Rabbis on my wife’s side. My wife’s great grandfather Greenburg may have passed nearly a decade before she was born but his legacy still lives to this day. Born in Romania and having come to the United States around the turn of the 20^th century as a child, he supported his family the best he could and raised my wife’s grandmother whom she still misses. In the end, our son chose names from the men who raised both of our grandmothers to which we were very close. He also made picking a Hebrew name really easy. 

So some many see it and wonder how we came up with the name and we have been asked that many times over. We did consider the origins of the names (which did seem to fit our son) but the family meaning behind them is far more significant. While we have both given the short answer during the course of conversations, now you have the full story behind the name. Our son has a part of each of us, myself and my wife, but more importantly he carries with him a long family history on both sides of which he can be proud and all he has to do to remember that is look at his own name.

Sunday Search: Tree Changes

Today begins another regular series of posts that I hope to write each week, Sunday Search. For the most part, I will be writing about genealogy related subjects including recent additions to my family tree, interesting resources or programs, and discoveries that give greater depth to the lives of my ancestors. There is also the plan to write small biographies similar to those that I have done in the past most notably of my grandpop, great grandfather, and great, great, great grandfather.

While there are grand plans for this series, I start today very simply. Recently I had to make a couple of updates to my tree. One that I had been dreading for months and the other that I have been looking forward to since last summer. Two changes that clearly demonstrate the dichotomy of the basic information that we all compile as we trace our roots… birth and death.

Both of these additions of information are almost surreal after having spent so much time digging through centuries of family history and piles of ancestral records. It is a change in perception I would previously dig through pages and pages just trying to find out when someone died but now, having experienced that last moment, it was not something that brought me any enjoyment whatsoever and by doing so, I think back to all the other times that I had to record that information for other loved ones in my tree.

From one unique experience to another. There are names that I see over and over again on both sides of my family and by adding my son’s leaf, one of those names repeats itself for another generation. But the name we chose, especially the spelling, was a means to connect my tree and my wife’s tree. Our son’s name adds to that bond between our deeply rooted family histories.

While he certainly doesn’t comprehend any of this now, I look forward to the day when we can introduce our son to his entire family and the history that his name carries with it. Between the two trees, there is a complex history spanning much of the world. My family touches on many areas and different cultures and my wife’s family covers a completely different geography and part of world history.

Each leaf has a little more to add to the family history just as each piece of fall foliage adds to the autumnal landscape. All different trees offering a different variety of colors but working in unison to tell the same story. That is what our son has to look forward to and what I am looking forward to sharing with our son.

Fulfilling The Mitzvah

Last night the snow and ice descended upon us covering everything in a frigid tapestry devoid of color. This was the landscape to which we woke today, the perfect clean slate by which our son to start his life as a member of the tribe. However, just like the faith that he has been born into, sometimes there are unseen trials that are cause for caution. Just outside our front door was a pristine shell of crystal clear ice. We took our time and made it out the door later than we had expected but we were safe and that is what really mattered.

After a quick stop at my parent’s house to pick up some backup, we made our way into center city Philadelphia and arrived at my father-in-law’s apartment about 20 minutes behind schedule. Family and friends were already packed into the place and overflowing into the hallway when we arrive and before we could make our way to the middle of the crowd the mohel (who was the mohel for my conversion) whisked us away to the back bedroom to make sure that we (including our son) were prepared for the experience that was about to follow.

For those of you who are not familiar, the mohel is the person in the Jewish faith who performs the mitzvah of brit milah, the covenant of circumcision, which was commanded by G-d to Abraham over 3,700 years ago. While rushed to begin, the mohel took his time during the ritual and made sure that our son was brought into the covenant the way that it should be done. After all, you don’t want a mohel to cut any corners.

While the act itself is something that is difficult to see, especially when it is your own son, it is also an incredibly moving moment for both the parents and the grandfathers. This is the moment that our son became a child of Israel. It was a moment that I will never forget and one that I am glad I was able to share with my family. Following the performance of this sacred mitzvah, our son was given his Hebrew name, Yonatan Yitzhak. This is a name that was easy for us to decide but one that also carries great meaning which I will write about in a future post.

The morning continued with our son a little sleepy and tipsy from the Manischewitz he was given before, during, and after the brit. The rest of us reveled in the glory and holiness of the mitzvah that had just taken place. Of all the moments and experiences that I have had within my chosen faith this, by far, is the one that carried with it the most meaning and made me feel closer to G-d. Our son was now a Jew just like his mommy and daddy.  

Making Our Last Words Count

Last Friday, for reasons that we cannot explain, my wife and I decided to tell one person, just one, the name that we had chosen for our son. My mother-in-law, having been diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer just before my wife's birthday in October, had not been well for some time was the only one that we wanted to tell. And while she didn’t give an acknowledgement of the news that we had shared, there is little doubt that she heard us.

Our son was the light of the day which was able to pierce the darkest of moments. Having joined the world at 9:14am we were quick to send a photo to family and friends to let us know of the joy that had just been bestowed upon us. Even my mother-in-law who had not been communicative for several days opened her eyes when she was told that a picture of her first grandchild was sent to her. For the first time in days she spoke a single word… wow!

Still in shock from the early arrival of our baby boy, my wife and I were slowly recovering from the day that had just transpired. With all visitors having left the maternity ward for the day we settled into our hospital beds and waited for our son to come back into the room for his next meal. It was at this point about 12 hours since our son entered the world that my wife made a request to the nurse… one that I am sure that they are not used to hearing.

It was a simple act but it was a moment that would immediately become part of family lore. My wife turned to the nurse and asked her to make our son cry while she had her mother’s caretaker on speakerphone next to her mom’s bed. The nurse didn’t question my wife and seconds later his cry was echoing in my mother-in-law’s great room. My wife followed by saying “I love you” and told the caretaker that she would call back in the morning. It was a call that she wouldn't have the opportunity to make. 

What we didn’t find out until later was that mere seconds after hearing the healthy cry of her grandson, my mother-in-law took her last breath. She held on just long enough, and our son arrived just early enough, that she was able to leave this world as a grandmother. The circle of life, in all its joy and pain, mystery and misery, beginning and ending was in full display. In a matter of half a day we were both overjoyed and heartbroken.

Since that moment, we have been experiencing the full range of emotions remembering both the good time and bad, the disagreements and the celebrations, the moments of happiness and sadness. I have been doing all that I can to try and comfort my wife knowing that there is no real comfort that can be given during this time. Only our son can bring solace and help to heal my wife’s heart and the knowledge that the last words that we both spoke to her were the most powerful and comforting things that we could ever say to her in her last moments in the physical world… our son’s name and “I love you”.

A Little Early

About 30 minutes after birth and a quick cleaning... he quietly squeezed my finger the entire time.  

When my wife woke me up in the middle of the night saying that she still wasn’t feeling well I did my best to comfort her even though I was still half asleep. Having just been to the hospital, her flu was something that needed to be watched but sometimes my wife can be a little more overzealous in her monitoring. However, even having been woken up a few times before and still suffering from a week long lack of sleep, there were a few words that my wife uttered that immediately got me up and out of bed… “I think my water just broke.” That will wake you up faster than the strongest cup of coffee the world has ever known.

After another call to the doctor to let them know that we were coming in, we packed everything up, jumped in the car, and made our way back to the hospital. We were still in shock by the quick turn of events but there was an odd calm in the car despite the bitterly cold winds blowing the snow all over the roads. By 5am we pulled up to the labor and delivery entrance to Bryn Mawr Hospital. Not surprisingly, the doctor confirmed what we had suspected, what my wife had surmised an hour prior and we knew that the by the time the day ended we would have a small addition to our family.

With family already beginning to arrive, we were escorted into the operating room where I was able to peek over the curtain and see my son being born. As many of you know, when your child is first born they look like a cross between an alien and a miniature member of the blue man group but that doesn’t make you think twice about wanting to reach over and hold him. At 9:14am our son, John Louis, was born and our priorities forever changed. If only the post office delivered packages this early we would never have a problem with the postal system again.

Unfortunately, since my wife was diagnosed with the flu less than 24 hours prior, we are confined to gowns and masks for the duration of our stay in the hospital. With that said, that hasn’t deterred us from holding him every chance that we have had today and just looking in awe at the beautiful boy that we have brought to this world. Now the real work and the real worry begins as I hope to be a good father in addition to being a good husband. However, the second that I saw him I knew in that instant that I would do anything for him.

Happy Birthday My Beautiful Baby Boy!

3-D Baby

Thursday was a hectic day which will soon be evident over the next couple of posts. But they were hectic in a good way as the early morning was a filled with coffee and anticipation at seeing our son again. It was almost as if he knew he was going to have his picture taken that morning. He was squirming from the moment we got out of bed and was pushing closer to the surface trying to get just a little bit closer.

He was calm for a time and very active at other points in the morning. Once the ultrasound began, he seemed to both want his picture taken and wanted nothing to do with the process at the same time. Of course, like the rest of the men in my family, he had his hands up and ready to block his face.

Even with all of the moving around, kicking, and punching, the nurse was able to take all the measurements that she needed… more than enough to tell us that our son is developing normally and maybe a little bit ahead of schedule. She was also able to catch him in the middle of one of his shifts with his face uncovered taking a nice 3-D image of our baby. A second later and he put his hands back up and didn’t move them away for the rest of the morning.

And now we have a face without a name. The latter will come in time but, for now, we know he takes after my side of the family both in his mannerisms and some of his facial features. And, yes, he still listens to daddy when I ask him to move, kick, etc. I am going to enjoy his cooperation while it lasts!

Kick!

 The doctor soon followed and double checked everything that had just been done and all the measurements that had been taken. Thankfully, everything was confirmed and our son is expected to be approximately 8 ½ pounds by the time his birthday comes around. While a big baby, we were expecting this as I was about the same size when I was born.

While everything has gone as smoothly as possible thus far we still have a lot of things that we need to take care of not the least of which is figuring out a few more options for his name. Other things that we are working on are pulling together his room, setting a delivery date, and bracing ourselves for the changes that are ahead. We will get them done I just don’t know when and in what order!

Ahead Of Schedule

This might be the last time he was on schedule!

Now that my wife is in her third trimester we are scheduling doctor appointments for every two weeks. The last time that we were in the office we had quite the wait as couples crammed in one last appointment before Thanksgiving and many of the doctors had already headed out for the holiday. Last night was much better as we were shown back to the examining room a few minutes ahead of our appointment time.

After enjoying hearing our son’s heartbeat, it was time for the doctor to come in and take some measurements. As it turns out, at 28 1/2 weeks my wife is measuring 31 weeks. With very little weight gain to speak of, it is safe to say that our baby is a wee bit ahead of schedule. This also explains the discomfort and sometimes pain that my wife has been experiencing lately and her inability to sleep throughout the night.

Now that he is so far along, it is fun to play with him from time to time. He knows both of our voices and can feel each time that we rub him usually poking or kicking our hands. He is surprisingly active during the day and even into the night after I get home from work. I like to think that he waits up to hear daddy but I know that it not realistic.

Even though we have not been able to find the right name for our son we do have a couple of options that we have been keeping to ourselves. However, it is safe to say that Deuteronomy, Percy, and Junior have been eliminated from contention. While we would like to have a few options selected beforehand it is probably going to come down to what comes to mind when we see our son for the first time. Maybe that time will be sooner than expected.  

This is a little different of an approach than one of the brothers from the lodge. He and his wife had the named picked out for their daughter months ago in anticipation of today actually. Sometimes you just come across the one name that just fits and you stick with it… of course, we already have a name picked out for a girl but that is not helping us at all right now. Of course, at the same time, we are not going to let ourselves fall into the Paul and Jamie conundrum either.

It will all take care of itself in time. It is just a matter of how much time we will have to think about his name. So far it looks like we are having that timeframe cut down by 2 ½ weeks. I guess we will have to keep thinking of options as we continue looking forward to his arrival.

Name Change?

This season (this actually started back in May) there has been some words exchanged between the United States Congress and the National Football League (recent Facebook posts have prompted this post). What have they been discussing? Well, as was reported by Mike Jones of The Washington Post, Congressman Eni F.H. Faleomavaega (American Samoa) sent a letter to Washington Redskins owner Daniel Snyder (along with similar letters to NFL Comissioner Roger Goodell and FedEx President and CEO Frederick Smith as well as the owners of the NFL’s 31 other franchises) urging the owner to change the name of his franchise. Joining Faleomavaega in the effort were fellow representatives and co-chairs of the Congressional Native American Caucus: Tom Cole (Oklahoma) and Betty McCollum (Minnesota) as well as Raul M. Grijalva (Arizona), Gwen Moore (Wisconsin), Michael M. Honda (California), Donna M. Christensen (Virginia Islands), Zoe Lofgren and Barbara Lee (both of California) and Eleanor Holmes Norton of the District.

Keep in mind that this is a letter from a politician so the original is quite lengthy. However, in summary the letter stated the following: " Native Americans throughout the country consider the 'R-word' a racial, derogatory slur akin to the 'N-word' among African Americans or the 'W-word' among Latinos… Such offensive epithets would no doubt draw wide-spread disapproval among the NFL’s fan base. Yet the national coverage of Washington’s NFL football team profits from a term that is equally disparaging to Native Americans… In this day and age, it is imperative that you uphold your moral responsibility to disavow the usage of racial slurs. The usage of the [“R-word”] is especially harmful to Native American youth, tending to lower their sense of dignity and self-esteem. It also diminishes feelings of community worth among the Native American tribes and dampens the aspirations of their people.”

This is a debate that I personally have gone back and forth on for some time now. On one hand you have the points outlined above but on the other you have the fact that the term, however vile it may be, which serves as a reminder of a people and a battle that is still being fought for respectability and, in many cases, simply an acknowledgement of existence (you can read more about that fight in a few of my previous blogs). We can’t bury our history and sometimes we need such abhorrent reminders of the work that still needs to be done.

For now, I think the name should stay with the hope that sometime in the future such a visible reminder is not needed. We need all the help we can get to keep the fight in the minds of the general public. This debate should serve as a stepping stone to bring to light the struggle for recognition and the need to expose everyone, young and old, to the history of a people blotted out of the textbooks. When that day comes, then I will support such a name change.

What is disturbing in this matter is not the debate at hand but the fact that so many members of Congress are shifting their focus away from the issues that this country is facing right now. There are many other things that need to be done and many other problems that need to be fixed. Add to the fact that there is such little support in the general population for a proposed name change (21 percent to be exact) and you have a waste of time. If this is truly an issue that you are passionate about don’t start by going after the NFL, start by recognizing tribes that represent thousands of people in this country that have been fighting for generation to be considered Indian (American Indian to be exact). If you want to impact the lives of the people you care so much about, that is the fight that needs to happen not this headline grabbing waste of time.