Baby Jack!

Month 2: Our first long trip with Jack

April 30th, 2000: I'm riding in the backseat of my car holding my son's hand and looking up at the stars. The Big Dipper is standing up on its handle as we speed east to home. My mind is wandering through a multitude of subjects, much like tuning a radio. Sometimes I blow by a topic (Babylon 5 trivia, the attractive woman at the sandwich shop that Ann gave me a playful hard time for staring at, I need air in my bicycle tires) and others I linger on, savor, and revel in the wonderful weekend we have had.

Turning the dial... We find ourselves packing for our trip. Gone are the days when we can pack a single suitcase for two, throw it in the car and head out. Now we have three bags alone for the baby's things (burp cloths, changes of clothes, toys, diapers, changing pad, etc.) and since we are going to a wedding, we are packing the Big Suitcase With Wheels. And since it's a 4+ hour drive, we are also bringing my computer so we can hook it up to the car stereo and play MP3s the entire trip instead of listening to the same three tapes over and over. By the time the car is loaded the baby is screaming so we hastily start driving knowing that it won't be long before the road soothes him into sleep...

Turning the dial... We're parked at the back corner of a rest stop somewhere along I-90 in western Mass. Ann's in the passenger seat breastfeeding the baby. We think we are in a secluded spot until we discover that we're parked right next to the truck lane and all these truckers can see right in. Ah well, what can you do? You figure if they get off on that then they have much larger problems than we can worry about. After he's done eating, I take him to the back seat to change his diaper. This is my first attempt at changing a baby on a non-level surface. I almost wish I could report another Great Poo incident but I pulled it off admirably...

Dial... In our relationship, Ann is the tough one. When there's an injustice, she'll go after it and beat it until it is begging on the ground. I give in all too easily. Maybe I'm afraid of confrontation. Maybe I'm just too laid back. Either way, it's actually worried me since Jack came along. Would I be able to stand up for him the way I need to or would I be too passive and harm him both by my inaction and by my bad example? Thankfully, I discovered that when I need to be, I can stand up for my son. We booked our rooms at the Georgian on Lake George, NY, months ago. Since we knew this would be our first major trip with the baby we booked the expensive rooms with the Jacuzzi in it. We figured we'd splurge and make a weekend of it. And as this weekend approached, I got more and more excited about our little get away. When we arrived we found that outside our room was dozens of mosquitoes. We opened the door and dashed inside only to discover a whole bunch were already inside. After we killed 15 or so we looked at each other in despair. If it were just us, it would be an annoyance we could live with. But with a baby, it was unacceptable. Ann, always worried that she is worrying too much, asked if we could stay somewhere else. Normally, this is where I start trying to just make things work with what we have. But in this case I said OK, got on the phone to a hotel up the street, confirmed a room there (that was a third less expensive) and got the Georgian to refund the money we gave them. And then we moved to the other hotel. No mosquitoes and as a bonus, our friends Annie and Jon were our next door neighbors...

Dial... Annie, Jon, James, and Sumiko all sitting in our room with us talking about nothing in particular... Je m'appelle Guy and I am *not* a Canadian... WHASSUP!!!!... "Did you see mosquitoes?"... how wonderful so many of Liz and Jim's friends could make it... "I forgot to bring the Cuban cigars with me"...

Dial... Listening at the wall to see if I can overhear Annie and Jon doing something that I can later embarrass them with. Nothing comes to light. I consider making up Annie saying "Oh my furry little wombat" but decide that either everyone won't believe me or they all will and won't be surprised.

Dial... We're getting dressed, packing up, and loading the car. The sun is shining and Liz' wedding is less than an hour away. I hear voices outside and I shout an inarticulate hello and Keely bounds in and gives me a great big hug. In the 5+ years since the Zone started there are a few Zoners/Former Zoners I never managed to meet but always wanted to. Keely pretty much tops that list. So, this was a thrill and a then some for me! I reflect back on past threads from the list and realize that I can't actually remember a time when she and I were not at opposite ends of an issue. And I also feel a great sadness that she isn't in the Zone anymore since I really do miss her thoughts and posts. It's great when someone inspires you so much like that...

Turn the dial... fast dash through McDonalds for breakfast... the woman can't hear to take my order because Jack is screaming... can't find my wallet... jump out of my car at the drive through and bum a 20 off James who's tailing us... almost cause a car accident in the drive through trying to pull my car closer to the window...

Flip flip flip... The wedding was simply gorgeous. Liz was radiant and Jim had the most wonderful smile. Everyone was just lovely, especially Carolyn (Liz' sister) who was maid of honor. You really could feel the entire room mass-affirming this relationship. These two belong together. People talk, the congregation responds, people sing, people cry, pictures are taken, love is pledged, rings are given, a kiss, more tears... it was a wedding like so many others and yet utterly unique in its own unquantifiable ways...

Dial... one can't help but get introspective at times such as these. In our case, we looked back on the 11 and a half months we've been married and the five years we've been together. This wedding reaffirmed our own wedding. We could see ourselves saying those vows, pledging that love, exchanging that frank, open, honest exchange of each other that never seems as real as when it is in a church in front of our loved ones. We are them and they are us and once again the future is an unwritten book all laid out before us. And yet we can look down and see this eight week old baby boy hanging in his Snugli between us. He is the only thing in our entire relationship that we can say is truly ours. We made him. He is the most intimate act we can possibly make. And we realize that in a way, the wedding is an almost intangible way of expressing a union. A baby is entirely tangible...

Flip... It's dollar dance and all the women line up to dance with Jim and all the men line up to dance with Liz. I get in line for Jim, walk up to him and slip him my room key (actually, it was James' room key but let's not split hairs here). Jim and I share an awkward dance moment. Later when dancing with Ann he tells her what a terrible dancer I am. She contradicts him that I am quite good. He and she decide it was the confusion over who should lead. I get in line to dance with Liz and when it is my turn I hand her Jack. She dances with him and then I dance with her. We realize that we haven't danced together for over two years when she was going through a rough spot with some ex who now is ancient history. Nothing like a wedding to put your past into perspective. Bad relationships fade away fast but friendships endure...

Dial... the baby is really freaking out so we have to go. We slip into James & Sumi's room, change into "5+ hours in the car" clothes and start the long drive home. It's not that long a drive but two stops for baby feedings (which each take over 45 minutes) makes it so...

In the back seat of the car, I notice how the lights play on Jack's sleeping face. Today he started vocalizing a lot. He's finally starting to try to learn to talk. I marvel at how many people came up to us to tell us what a beautiful baby he is. I feel happy at seeing Stacy, Keely, Phil, Annie, Jon, all of the BoZos [Boston Zoners] and everyone else I don't see nearly often enough. I feel entirely in a happy place. We have wonderful friends, a great baby, and that whole unwritten future thing.

We're stopped at a traffic light and I see the grass lit up yellow by the headlights of the car behind us. The Big Dipper has gone away, hidden by the city lights. We're almost home. I look at Jack who's starting to stir and I smile. It's been a good day.

To Liz and Jim: may they have all happiness and joy in the world as they write their unwritten future.

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