Back to Work

I have been very remiss about posting because I started back to work a couple of weeks ago. I had envisioned my husband arriving at my work with a screaming baby, the two of them outside my window (unfortunately I don't actually have an office window, but my fantasies have a little poetic license as well)crying for me to come out. I was quite prepared to quit my job and stay home with the imp. The main reason for this fear was Zoe's stubborn refusal to take a bottle. Of course all the advice I received involved "when she's hungry enough she will take it." This I countered with a article I read in the NY Times about an illegal immigrant mother who was separated from her breast feeding baby. The baby did not eat for 3 DAYS and only started taking the bottle after the woman's sister fed her expressed milk from her mother. There was no way I was going to let Zozo go three days without eating. I also figured the pressure of a crying hungry baby on my husband would be enough to render him a sobbing shell of his former self. But I was wrong....

Day 1 I woke up at 5:30 fed the imp and came to work. Every 15 minutes I feverishly checked my phone, waiting for the call. At around 9am I received an e-mail telling me Zozo had taken her bottle (2oz., with only minimal Daddy dancing, handwaving, and singing). This routine progressed throughout the day. Max had risen to the occasion beautifully. My fears of this


were replaced by the reality of a happy well fed baby and a husband and father bonding with his impishly cute daughter.

Eureka!

Eureka! Sand Dunes that is. On the outskirts of Death Valley are 650+ft. sand dunes. We took a morning trip up there after stuffing Zoe into her snuggle suit, digging out the purple safari style sun hat, and locating the baby sunglasses. As Zoe has a tiny little nose with no real bridge, the baby sunglasses would work their way down her face or rotate by themselves, offering rather poor protection from the sun of Death Valley.


Max engineered a makeshift tent to protect Zoe from the incoming rays. Strangely, she did not seem to appreciate his efforts and was quite angry during our dune jumping. Another few years before she can jump along with us, I think she felt rather left out so our trip to the dunes was a quick up and down. Next time we will try for the highest point.







Our next excursion was to the hotsprings around Bishop. We had been planning on visiting the hot springs for a number of years, so to make it all the more relaxing we ended up waiting until we had a baby to actual locate them. There are consequences to procrastination.... We first tried the Keough Hot Springs since it is a true "facility" with multiple pools. I think I was lulled by our trip to Japan and the Japanese version of hotsprings - beautiful rustic pools of varying temperature in harmony with the natural surroundings. The Keough version was a tepid swimming pool with lane markers, children in water wings, and a few old women standing in the shallow end waiting for the water aerobics to start. A secondary pool was slightly warmer but only 6 inches deep. We opted out of paying $8 each and went in search of something better. After deciding against a nearby spring due to the presence of a suspicious looking van and howling dog, we stumbled on this -







An isolated spring in a snowy field, a properly rustic setting, and a sweeping view of the mountains. After changing another sullied outfit of Zoe's, we started our hike to the spring. Placing Zoe in her bouncy seat on the snow and bundling her up after a quick snack (I can now add a hot spring to the "places I have nursed" list) we took turns amusing the imp and luxuriating in the hot water. The water was too hot for the imp, but perfect for us. Poor Zoe was left out once again and used her baby wiles (angry screaming) to convince us to leave. A brief, but lovely dip in the hot springs around Bishop.

Zoe after a hard day in the snuggle suit.

Sleepover with Zoe

Zoe got to share the bed with her parents. She took to this quite easily and while she can't actually roll over, she did somehow manage to wiggle her way further and further onto the bed. We both were so concerned about squishing her that in order to maintain a foot buffer zone we were relegated to about a quarter of the king sized bed. By the morning, we were pushed over to one side, I was crammed against Max while he was perched rather precariously at the edge of the bed. Cozy, but not terribly comfortable.

We got off to a slow start in the morning, no one having slept particularly well with the possible exception of the imp (although she did get up for a few middle of the night and early morning feedings and diaper changes, no sleeping through the night for her on this trip!). The vicious swings in temperature during the night with the accompanying cacophony of the heating unit did not help matters any. Max attempted a little "bricolage" by stuffing tissues in the gap between the heater and the outside wall. While not terribly effective it did lend a somewhat festive look to the heater with the white puffs of tissue jutting out rather artistically.

After another feeding and changing we were off to the petroglyphs, indian rock art that dots the volcanic tuff around Bishop. We bundled the little one up in her teddy bear snuggle suit (which is more like a stuffed sausage suit since she is so big now!) and were off. Max snapped some photos of Zoe and turned to be and declared "Zoe is the Chosen One." As her mother I already knew this.



We even managed to get a little climbing in during the afternoon. Slogging a 16lb. baby up a steep rocky trail can be a challenge but we weathered it well. Zoe expanded her irresistibility to the animal kingdom as the crag dogs sniffed at her and followed us, abandoning their masters. Upon turning his back for a "few seconds" Max allowed a black and white husky to get a few licks in.



Post climbing, the tired family is ready to head back to the luxury of the Vagabond Inn.

Zoe goes to Bishop

As a last hurrah before returning to work, we took a road trip to Bishop for some climbing and sightseeing. We headed out Monday morning after a rocky start of desperate packing/repacking of the adventure Subi. As always, we learned a few important lessons, namely 1) packing tape does not stick to the crash pad and is thus insufficient to make the various straps adhere to the each other and prevent flopping 2) packing tape sticks very well to the roof of the adventure Subi and can be difficult to remove 3) manual shaking of the same toy in Zoe's face for 8 hours will amuse her 4) manual shaking of the same toy in Zoe's face for 8 hours will cause carpal tunnel syndrome and an irrational hatred of yellow bird on the part of the shaker (me). Max was great and did all the driving, only letting his impatience get the best of him towards the last leg before Bishop. The constant stream of slow SUV's had taken their toll and so he decided to flash his brights at an SUV sitting in the passing lane, pass "agressively" on the right hand side, and then move "agressively" into the left hand lane in front of the offending SUV. As it was dark, he didn't bother to do his usual hand gestures, and as it was cold he did not roll down the window to offer any pithy words to the SUV driver. After speeding away Max noticed flashing lights in the rear view. Yes, the offending SUV was an unmarked police car. Very bad for us, so I knew that the big guns were necessary (that being figurative as a gun battle and ensuing blood bath would have ruined our trip). I casually pulled the bonnet of Zoe's car seat back to reveal the little imp and started shaking yellow bird to keep Zozo happy and extra cute. The police officer was surprisingly nice, only cautioning Max. (Max is still flabbergasted that the police officer didn't give us a ticket, but I know it's the Power of Zoe and her cheeks of Irresistible Cuteness.)

After the run in with the police Max strictly adhered to the speed limit the rest of the way, all the while glancing suspiciously at all American SUV's as potential unmarked police cars. We finally arrived in Bishop and after checking into the Vagabond Motel, went to dinner at Las Palmas, a Mexican restaurant in town. Zoe became "La Preciosa" to our waitress and reveled in the attention of staff and customers. While she may be very difficult about taking her own bottle, she was mesmerized by my Corona.

Zoe, covetously eying my beer.

No beer for babies, what do you think this is, France?