Dean's first haircut

A few weeks ago, I finally talked Jorge into letting me take Dean to get his hair cut. Jorge has a thing about the boys' hair; he seems to think they are little Samsons (Samsonites?), and that their power is in their hair. Also, Jorge refuses to let a woman cut their hair, because, according to him, if the hairdresser happens to be pregnant, the boys' hair will be ruined. He will tell you his own tragic tale, of the thick, luxurious wavy locks that were magically transformed into tight little wiry coils, all because his mother took him to have his hair cut at a woman's salon instead of a barber shop.

But my mother-in-law Dora and I put the full-court press on him, and he relented. On one condition - he got to pick the place.

We went to Doran's, a barber shop just up the street, which is celebrating its 100th anniversary this year.

It was a fittingly manly place, and also charmingly Irish, with a handful of men sitting around on benches just chatting. Everyone was very excited to see Dean experiencing the coming-of-age ritual, and quietly taking bets as to whether or not he'd cry.

I'm proud to say he did just great, not a tear, or a cry, and certainly not the agonized writhing that Milo used to whip out on such occasions.

I have to admit, I have been clinging to Dean's baby-hood much longer than I did with Milo. and it's always a little bittersweet to see your baby's little locks go, but now he looks so much more like the little boy he is becoming. My handsome little guy.

Meet Baby Dean

Finally! The really exciting part of our trip back home to the United States! When last I left you, I was enjoying (OK, tolerating) the Thansgiving snow in Seattle. A week later, on November 30th, I got a call from my best friend Mary to tell me she'd had her son that day, a little boy named Lucas. I was 39 weeks pregnant, and for the first time, felt a little jealous. Normally I am COOL with waiting a little longer for a baby - I know all about the lack of sleep, the challenge of finding time to shower, the fact that you have a big lump in your arms (or at your breast) constantly. I'm not bamboozled by that whole cuddly newborn imagery they're pushing over there in Hollywood. I'd like my last few days of sleep, please.

But all of sudden, I wanted to have that darn baby. And what do you know? An hour later my water broke. Labor started soon after, and after just 14 hours I had Dean. He was born at 11:15 AM on December 1st, weighing 8 pounds, 5 ounces.


Dean's birth was a bit of a triumph for me. Milo was born via Cesarean 2 years earlier, after his heart seemed to not be able to withstand the pushing phase. But, ever a public health professional, I really wanted to avoid surgery this time unless it was strictly necessary. I can't say Dean's labor was quick or easy - I pushed for more than 4 hours - but thankfully I had an awesome, supportive midwife who really believed that I could do it. And thanks in large part to her encouragement, I just kept trying. And then all of a sudden, he was born, and Jorge told me, "it's another boy!" and then Dean had to be rushed off to the pediatrician because he needed resuscitation. Minutes later, though, he was doing just fine, and was sleeping on my chest.


It hasn't been so hard adjusting to life as a family of four. Everything takes about five times more planning, but we've learned to adapt. Milo adores his little brother (when he slows down enough to pay him any mind), and Dean is delighted to just be in Milo's presence.


As for Dean (who, like Milo, remained nameless for the first few days of life, while the anxious nurses kept nagging for a name to put on his birth certificate request), you've never met a more steady, mellow child. His first few weeks of life, he never cried - he just squeaked. Even now, he is usually easily consoled, and rarely gets particularly upset over anything. He's mostly content to just watch the world around him and smile.


And, most remarkable of all, my little Colombian baby came out with a head full of golden blonde hair, and my blue eyes to match!

Busy busy busy

Just hopping on quickly, after a very late lunch. The countdown to maternity leave is now on - We leave Malawi exactly 2 weeks from now. So as you can imagine, things have been pretty busy with trying to get all my work done, pack up the house, and still do all my usual mama/wife/friend activities. Jorge recently started taking a few online classes too, so I have had to take on a lot of the child-caring and home-management responsibilities for him as well so that he has enough time to study.

I had a nice trip to Ethiopia, but unfortunately I was sick for most of. Apparently my immune system has decided it hates me, and I think I have not had more than 3 or 4 days in a row when I was not sick since the end of June. It's one thing after another - the never-ending cold, a bacterial infection last week, stomach troubles. I spend so much time at the doctor's office I should get a plaque on one of the chairs.

Oh, and I suppose I have not mentioned that my grandfather is very ill as well, and I am deeply concerned for him.

Some days I feel so overwhelmed I think I could just sit down and cry.

But alas, even if I had the time, I never was much of one for wallowing.

Jorge and I take it all day by day for now, squeezing in the last-minute dinners and visits with friends, sorting and packing and selling when we get time, studying and parenting together as much as we can, and I have become quite adept at saying "no."

We're not heading straight back to Seattle this time around - we've decided to break up the trip on the way home and stop in Paris for 6 days. As usual, we haven't planned a thing, but we figure we'll just book a hotel last-minute, then spend the week walking, eating, and going where the day takes us. I'm particularly excited about all the yummy cheese options awaiting me :-)

Then on October we will be back HOME, and when I say home I mean it, back to the house where I spent the first 18 years of my life, with its obstructed view of Mount Rainier and its big sloping backyard, perfect for energetic little boys to tumble around in. Only this time instead of one little baby, we will end up having a houseful of kids - Milo, his nearly-one year old cousin Oseia, and the soon to be born little sibling. Throw into the mix one mom on maternity leave and two stay-at-home dads, and it should really be an interesting time! My sister, our gracious host, is going to have her hands full.

OK. OK. I get it.

Yeah, so I know I have been AWOL. It hasn’t been an easy couple of months. But that’s no excuse – when has my life ever been easy? I think I deliberately prevent it from becoming so…

But then I checked Facebook the other day and saw this:

"Chris J. is wondering if his favorite sister-in-law-in-Malawi will ever blog again..."

Alright, alright. I hear you people ( all 5 of you who still read this blog). You want posts. So post I shall.

(But nuts…what should I say?) I guess I can start by saying why I haven’t been on much. And it’s not just that I haven’t been writing – I haven’t read any blogs in ages either. At work I’m usually too swamped, and at home…well, at home I’m swamped too. That’s life as a working mama.

And it isn’t just that – I just have felt lately that the only things that come to my mind to write about are so….negative. For example, there’s the growing number of articles in the Malawi newspapers blaming women who are raped, because their short skirts and exposed thighs “force” men into assaulting them. How about the government up and changing the flag (which I thought was very nice) in a dramatic show of government will ignoring the opinions of the people? And I’m increasingly depressed by the poverty wages paid to hard-working Malawians – our housekeeper was recently offered 6,000 Malawi Kwacha ($40) per month for full time employment at another house (he declined, naturally). Aid workers hardly pay much more, despite supposedly being here to ‘help’ the people.

The US is no better a topic for discussion – the percentage of Americans who believe that Obama is Muslim nearly doubled in the past few months, and Republicans STILL have the balls to suggest that the way out of financial crisis is to lower taxes and bankrupt the federal government (seriously, haven't we learned?). It’s all too depressing for words sometimes, so I just keep quiet.

Then of course I have my own work frustrations, for example a horrendous trip to Uganda last month, the rapidly rising cost of living in Malawi (it’s WAY more expensive in Africa than people think) and my shrinking wages as the Euro tanks, working hard every day for little recognition or reward.

I like to think of myself as a pretty positive person. After all, I went through chemo and radiation with hardly a peep of protest. It pains me to complain on this blog. A central value of my childhood was “if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” So again, I just keep quiet.

But it’s not all doom and gloom around here. After all, I do have just about the best family any woman could ask for. How many women, after 6 years of marriage, still get two dozen roses on a Tuesday afternoon from their husband, for no reason at all? And even though Milo is fully TWO in all of its glory (and being potty trained on top of all that), he still charms me every day with his tremendous capacity for love and unsuppressed joy. And there’s even more reason for happiness around the C. household now, as our little family will grow to 4 soon, sometime at the end of this year.

(You like how I snuck that in there?)

But I have heard the people, and I will respond to their little plaintive pleas. I may need some help on coming up with topics, though. So, anyone want to suggest what you would like to hear more about? Got questions for me? Post them in the comments, and I’ll try to start writing more. After all, this is a two-way street folks – you want blog posts? I need validation. Comments. Lots of ‘em.