As you’ll see below and on Flickr, Cruv’s face has narrowed, his legs have thinned, his feet have formed, and his hair has grown wispy and long.  Dressed in pants, sneakers, and a shirt, he looks, sounds, and moves like a boy.  Though we mentioned this development in the previous post, we obsess over it in this one.

Travel Update

August began with visitors.  When Yaron flew to Ojai for a few days, Cruv’s Savta (with Terri) saved the day (and morning and night) with tons of activities, and, of course, Cruv was pooped.

A few days later, Cruv toured Ari and Tamar around the farmer’s market and other favorite neighborhood spots.

A week later, his Uncle Noam visited for a three-day SF extravaganza of words (mostly Cruv’s), sights, (Academy of Sciences, de Young, Bolerium Books, among many), steam (Kabuki bathes), tastes (saury pike above the rest), and bonds (Cruv and Noam).  Then, to celebrate his Abu’s birthday, Noam, Yaron, and Cruv jetted to Park City, followed by his Abu, Imama, Uncles Aaron and Noam, Aunts Talia, Julie, and Liore (Doda Li), Cousin Oren, and Ima (whom he all calls by name).

The weekend was filled with hikes, runs, rides, big laughs, Earlwoode Farm’s produce, and good fortune.

Two weeks later, for Labor Day weekend, Yaron and Cruv took redeyed “Airplane New York” for a carefree weekend at his “Abu and Imama,” their red “bridge,” and “gong” that makes a big “noise.”  Cruv picked “peppers adom” and splashed with “naked Oren” and mostly “naked Abu.”  It was a party.

His first morning back in San Francisco, he asked, “Where’s naked Abu?” and then had an idea for the day, “Airplane New York!”

Two days later, Doda Li followed us west.  With Cruv, she biked to Academy of Sciences, Flora Grub Gardens, and Tartine.  Because it was too far, we all (including Gretchen, Doda Li’s friend and our day’s photographer) drove to Marin for the farmer’s market and hike in the rain, canopied by endless redwoods.

Future Travels: Tomorrow, Phoenix; ten days, New York.

I Scream, You Scream, Cruv Cries for Ice Cream

How High?

Though he chooses his moments carefully, Cruv knows when he’s in control.  Upon our return from Park City (see below), Cruv mimicked Talia and Oren’s lie-flat game.  It went like this:  We are in Cruv’s room and he calls-out “Lie flat!” and we run to the dining room and dive on the floor.  Then, “Jump!” and we get-up and jump.  Quickly, though, Cruv called-out, but neither lied flat nor jumped.  He went from player to drill-sargeant.  Though he does not impose his will often, when he does he does so sternly–”Ima up!”  “Abba out!”  “Cruv table!”  “Open it!”  Now, though, a “What do we say” may be followed by “Open it, please.”

Down and Out (Into the World)

On August 26, Cruv and Yaron were on their way to Parque Ninos Unidos when Cruv stopped, assessed a stairway of six, deemed it right, and ascended–foot to foot, not foot to knee to foot.  At the top, he descended backward.  He ascended again, and then descended, with a hand on the railing, forward.  After four deliberate repetitions, he descended handsfree.  Yaron was there to spot him (and bask in him), but this was Cruv’s.  Two days later, a tough day on the calendar, Yaron and Cruv  headed-out to the park.  As always, Yaron locked the apartment door and asked for Cruv to wait at the top of the stairs.  When Yaron went to pick-up Cruv, Cruv said, “Downstairs,” placed a firm palm on the wall, and walked down every single stair.  With each step descended, Yaron’s pride (Once an immobile, inarticulate newborn, and now this!)  and sadness grew.  Cruv cannot really make it on his own, but he willed himself out of our home and down and out into the world.  (Could he make it with his friends, like Rio and Alma, by his side?)

Unprepared to accept his letter of resignation, Yaron grabbed Cruv and called-out, “You did it,” held him tight, and cried.  Tender, as always, the following day Cruv conked in his bike seat.  At the courtyard, Yaron lifted him out and Cruv slept, like a baby, cradled in his Abba’s arms.

On Language as Such, on the Language of Cruv, Part II (Will there be Part III?)

Though we know there is more to come, Cruv’s lived exegesis of Walter Benjamin’s essay came full-circle.  Our downstairs neighbors, Betsy and her son, Desi, handed-down a little, furry lion.  For three days, Cruv called the lion by “Lion” and held him tight.  The fourth morning, as he drank his bottle, Cruv held Lion.  When he finished, Cruv narrowed his eyes, titled his head, gazed at Lion, paused, pointed, and proclaimed matter-of-factly, “Nicky.”  As Benjamin writes, “Man therefore communicates his own mental being (insofar as it is communicable) by naming all other things.”  Cruv understood lion was a word and not a name and, therefore,  this lion could be named, and, even more magically, that he (as Benjamin recalls, like Adam in the Garden of Eden) could name this lion.

Dirty Streets, Secret Gardens

We love our neighborhood because of its great parks, friendly people, charming homes, and sunny days.  But our streets have more trash than we’d prefer, some of our neighbor more booze than we’d prefer.  Last summer, as new immigrants, we saw, behind a tall, white picket fence, two avocado trees filled with fruit.  The only entrance to this huge and verdant secret garden was an unmarked gate–no name, no hours open, no phone number to call.  Despite many passings, the gate remained closed.  Then, one day, Kimberly (Cruv’s nanny) texts this picture:

The gate was opened to us.  Now, every Wednesday, Yaron and Cruv visit Gene’s secret garden.

With his shovel and rake, Cruv  picks ground husk cherries, sungold tomatoes, bartlett pears, almonds, raspberries, and avocados.  He planted mustard seeds, observes bees in-flight (and, on hot days, at rest in the birdbath).  Most of all, he wanders the many paths, some lined with towering bamboo trees, of this secret garden in this wondrous neighborhood.

Attentiveness

On day 30 of Cruv’s life, a woman took notice of Cruv’s careful gaze and commented, “I’ve never seen such an attentive baby.”  Though we used this adjective in the posts for Weeks 5-6, Week 7, and 10.5 Months, his attentiveness takes on a new character with speech. As we noted in the last post, as he can tell us everything he sees and hears–tiny specks in the sky (Airplane!), distant whirrs (“Street cleaner!”), passing signs (“monkey!” “Stars!”), artists (“[Ma]tisse!”), last words on every page (“teeth,” “ways,” “days,” etc)–we are newly attentive to the world and to Cruv’s attentiveness.  A few weeks ago, he saw the Muni bus log on a piece of paper and said, “Bus!”  This morning, after a diaper change, he began to run, but stopped and noted that Yaron did not rebutton his pajamas–”No buttons!”–and patiently stood until he finished the job.  This evening, as Cruv had his pre-bed bottle (see below), he stopped ran into the den and said something like, “chunsat.”  It took Yaron a few listens, to hear the obvious–”sunset!”  Now, as he takes hold of adjectives, we know he gets the major and minor details, too, from the feel of succulents (“Plant sharp”) to Yaron’s feet (“Abba feet gross”).

“Where’s Ima?  Imma work?”

Probably.  But, as of tomorrow, Miriam says goodbye to thirty-hour calls and working weekends, at least for a while.

The hours took a toll on all of us, but only recently did Cruv show (at least to us)  signs of wear.  When Miriam buzzes the doorbell, Cruv shakes with excitement, “Ima!  Ima!”  As of a few weeks ago, he would run-run-run to the door, wait for Yaron to open it, screech at the top of the stairs, and leap into Miriam’s arms.  Now, sometimes, when Miriam summits, he turns-away and, more recently, after he calls “Ima!   Ima!”,  he will climb into Yaron’s arms and only slowly lets go.  For all of Cruv’s clarity in speech, it is hard–scratch that, impossible–to determine what this change articulates–”sharp” and “gross” are simpler to identify than love and longing, excitement and hurt, attachment and detachment.

I’m Talking ’bout the Babe

Talker, namer, walker, stair descender, one-time toilet trainer.

Nonetheless and despite our American Pediatrics book’s stern recommendation, Cruv still prefers the bottle.  We are no rush to break our boy’s baby habit.

A full-post to come soon.  For now, a (mostly comprehensive) lexicon of the language of Cruv:

Fig, pea, corn, eggplant, date, grapes, pepper, tomato (moes!), strawberry, blackberry, blueberry, squash, leek, kiwi, bean, edamame (mame!), orange, apple, pear, basil, peach, melon, watermelon, plum, peanuts, raisins, ice cream, milk, broccoli, fish, lemon, mushroom, carrot, tortilla, bread, pasta, sushi, donuts, cheese, pickle, cucumber, [tortilla] chips, yogurt, oats, potato, eggs, avocado, cherries, apricot, asparagus, onion, olives, rice, crackers, truck, car, bike, motorcycle, skateboard, airplane, helicopter, digger, car-truck, (SUVs), bus, fire truck, ambulance, train, trolly, up, down, in, out, backward, outside, spicy, hot, cold, noise, open, closed, push, careful, cracked, tight, foggy, jump, lie flat, stuck, walk, fall, dropped, no, yes, more, empty, move, draining, tripped, careful, books, bath, toys, spoon, fork, knife (no-knife for his Abba’s knives), highchair, table, plate, shoes, socks, pants, shirt, jacket, glasses, hat, toilet, bottle, squeeze [bottles], water bottle, light, towel, blanket, crib, bike, helmet, keys, door, cards, puzzle, banjo, chair, park, people(s), tree, belly, nose, ear, eyes, palm, knee, feet, hand, mouth, tongue, teeth, chin, penis, tushy, arms, toes, fingers, thumb, hair, head, burp, fart, poop, pee, phone, flower, sun, heart, sky, clouds, moon, star, grass, ocean, rock, stairs, home, house, colors, soap, rainbow, letters, backpack, blocks, pieces, hi, bye, sneeze, cough, wall, baby, bridge, sling, garbage, compost, chalk, fox, giraffe, dog, cat, owl, snake, monkey, elephant, zebra, bird, pigeon, horse, mouse, tiger, pig, rhino, koala, cow, shark, moose, panda, bear, octopus (opotus!), spider, lion, duck, cricket, locust, frog, penguin, bunny, rabbit, turtle, frog, crocodile, wolf, bee, camel, puppy, duck, iguana, jaguar, eagle, swan, jellyfish, rhino, hippo, peacock, pelican.

It’s been so long and so much has changed.  Our little baby is all grown up.  Well, maybe not all grown-up.  Between bottles and diaper changes, Cruv walks and talks.  He precisely engages with the world around him, a striking balance of heady caution and headlong momentum.  He eases down stairs, practices difficult passages, gauges food for heat, yet swerves his tricycle toward every descent,   swiftly dismounts from our bed, waves to strangers, and chows new foods with a gourmand’s delight.  There are glimpses–when he dons a hat and jacket by himself, enters a room with a mien of supreme confidence–of a long-gone baby and a mature boy.  These moments thrill, yet we cannot help but to hold tight and wish, if only for a moment, that he will never really, really grow-up.  He will always need us to grab him from his crib, dress him, lift him into his high chair.  For now, every day as he rises, every evening as he lies down, we assure him that we are here and he assures us we are here for a purpose.

“Melon Cracked”
Though this is one Cruv’s declaratives (after he dropped a five-pound watermelon), here we refer to his big melon.  In a charming Monterey bed and breakfast, at the end of a lovely day, Cruv tripped forehead first into an unforgiving bed frame.  Dr Miriam assessed the bleeding, while Wife Miriam waited to call Yaron to return until she cleaned the blood from Cruv’s face.  By the time we reached the emergency room, Cruv recovered–As we anxiously waited, he excitedly explored the new space.  A bad Dermabond job, another forehead dive, and ten weeks later, the mark (dare we call it a scar) keeps us on-guard.

On Language as Such, On the Language of Cruv
For some fifteen months, it seemed as if we could say anything–Cruv did not know what anything meant, what he was asked, or the lexical equivalent of what we showed him.   Yet, over time and in repetition, it all adds-up.  The first words Cruv understood were not words but names, singular instances, unique entities: Abba, Ima, Builder Bob, Panda, Dov, and Ugly.  It is the comprehension side of  Walter Benjamin’s claim, “It is the linguistic being of man to name things.”  For Cruv, he first understood all words to be names.
Soon after, Cruv understood much of what was said–more names (as in his books,  “Goodnight, Gorilla” and “Just Like Daddy”), but also what we do (brush our teeth, eat in his high chair, go the the park, get ice cream),  body parts (head, hair, ears, nose, tongue, teeth, hands, arms, belly, feet), animals (roars like a lion, thumps his chest like a gorilla, stomps his feet like an elephant, etc), clothing (pants, shoes, jacket), the food he eats, the places we go, and more and more.  Quickly, he understood the characteristics that make shoes shoes or a lion a lion.
And with his expanding spoken vocabulary, the complexity of his spoken language development became even clearer.  After A, B, E and Y, he added C(h), H, K, N, 0, P, R, S, T, and V with words like Abba, bye, baby, Ima (Ama, for Cruv), hi, peas, bike, park, shoes, keys, avocado, asparagus, apricot, cheese, cars, carrot, bus, blanket, and more.  His first spoken words–like his early comprehended words–represented much of his world, his daily routine.  His family, coming and going, play, food, waking and sleeping.  As we read in his room, walk in the neighborhood, or ride around town, Cruv declares what he identifies (not only what he sees, but also what he hears):  Moon!  Truck!  Bike!  Burp!  Tree!  Dog!  Park!  Flowers!  Light!  He hears the sounds our over-stimulated brains silence, sees the sights our hard-to-please brains ignore.
From his vocabulary of exceptional commonness, grew a language of increasing sophistication.  Into his visual and audial identifications, he intersperses words without referents–windy, hot, cracked, spicy, thirsty, tight, cozy, and up.  It is magical.  And then, from his declaratives, came sentences–”It dropped,” “Where’s the moon?” and “It’s my blanket.”
To catalog his vocabulary would be a manageable yet significant task.  With every book and outing, his lived and linguistic world expands.  Yet as he announces the world he sees, as learns the building blocks of an infinite language–he identifies B, O, K, P, C, D, G, A, E–he transforms the world into a language-world.  Cruv’s worldly engagement is linguistic, categorized, and, in a certain sense, more and less true.  When every flower and fire truck were unique entities, though he could never know them, he nonetheless saw them and the world as the world is: countless, singular instances.  With every word he acquires, he signifies and generalizes, and allows for a world to be expressed in an alphabet.
Most recently, Cruv combined his older knowledge of proper names and his new feeling for pronouns–”I Cruv.”  In this statement Cruv reveals the gift of language, the truth of the nominal, an intention of his name.  He is–physically, psychically, and nominally–a unique entity, a singular instance with a singular name.

Cruv’s Millionth Flight will be Departing from Gate 11
We continue to maximize on Cruv’s lap-child status (high carbon footprint, no frequent flyer miles).  Here we go:
SFO to SLC, SLC to SFO; SFO to PHX, PHX to SFO; SFO to JFK, JFK to SFO; SFO to JFK, JFK to SFO; OAK to BUR, BUR to OAK; SFO to IAD, BWI to SLC, SLC to PHX, PHX to SFO.
Okay, here’s a little more info:  In Park City, Cruv sledded in the snow with Nathan, David, and Amy.  In New York,  he toured the town as Yaron met with professors.  In Phoenix,  he played with toy frogs and real cousins at Passover.  In New York, he  worked the room and ate caviar at Noam and Julie’s wedding.  In Los Angeles, he danced at Diane’s 60th birthday.  In Rockville, he kissed Bubbie.  Back in Park City, he hiked Sweeney’s Switchbacks and John’s Trail with Oren, Talia, and Aaron.  Back in Phoenix, he ogled his three new Arizona cousins.

As always, we did not have to fly to see all of our emotionally immediate yet geographically distant family.  Some of you (only some of you!) visited.  We are eager for your arrivals, wish-away your departures, and cherish the time in between.  Thank you.

Family Medicine
In June, Miriam completed her intern year of insanely long hours, never-ending weeks, and interminable months.  To the amazement of her colleagues, she also breastfed while in rounds and rebounded from overnight call to rumble and tumble with Cruv.  Yet, for Miriam, it is the reverse:  If not for Cruv, she may not have made it.  When he latched-on, the pressures turned-off.   When he squealed and danced as Miriam neared our doorstep, SF General Hospital receded into the distance.  Miriam and Cruv nourished each other through intern year and infancy.  As Miriam transitioned to a senior and Cruv to a toddler, they decided to nourish each other without the breast–”boobies” to Cruv.

Worth the Price of Admission
From early on, Cruv has been a museum hound.  And from equally early on, visitors have turned-away from the paintings and sculptures, fish and alligators, artifacts and aircrafts, to peek at sleeping Cruv or, more recently, play with charming Cruv.  In the last months, we have visited many museums, but the California Academy of Sciences, the De Young, and, most of all, the SF MoMA more often than the rest.  We go to see exhibits and to see Cruv see exhibits.  He grooved by Warhol’s record covers, chased the projected images of William Kentridge, spotted hats, cars, and trees at Robert Frank’s “Americans,” and races through Barnett Newman’s Zim Zum I.  In and out of great exhibits, being with him at the museum, as this  woman said at the De Young, is “worth the price of admission.”

“More” and It Comes Right Back to You
Though we stopped long ago, other good examples (Kimberly in SF, and Talia and Aaron in NYC) kept-up with the sign language.  Thus, we were bowled-over when, five months ago, Cruv signed “more.”  And he meant it.  He signs for food–from sofritto to peanut butter to ice cream.  Lately, he’s added another gesture to a very specific and emphatic  “more”:  He tilts his head toward Miriam, bats his eyelashes, and signs more.  He cannot get enough–more, more, more–of Miriam’s butterfly kisses (fluttered eyelashes on the cheek, for the uninitiated).
Cruv fills our life with more.  From day one, it was clear Cruv was loved and, even more so, that he could love, with wide-eyes and a patient sigh.  Even though, his loviness, his sweetness, is hard to fathom.  He smiles and waves at sad and sickly strangers, he cuddles with his dolls, hugs his cousins, and reaches for his Savta, Imama, Abu, feeds us as we feed him.  Most recently, he smooches us on the lips.  From day to day, he expresses  love in ways caring, insightful, and unending–He holds his Ima and reassures his Abba.  Even if love comes back to you, it seems to grow exponentially as it absorbed into and is emitted from Cruv.

All Done

Bipedalism
An ism?  Indeed.  The transition from infant to toddler (one who toddles) is so monumental, so gargantuan, it deserves the lofty suffix.  Indeed, again.  As this transition (and others below), distinguish us–and, more importantly, Cruv–from the other animals of the world.

And Cruv, with his characteristic brio and excitement, charged into walking.

Within two weeks, he evolved from first steps to the extinction of crawling:  With minor exception, he pursues the world from twenty-nine-plus inches.  The first time he walked-into a room, we could barely stand it.  The novelty–for him and us–is strong still.  He loves to walk into and between new places; we love to watch him explore.

“I can do it!”
As Yaron read, “I’m a seal and I clap my hands” from Eric Carle’s From Head to Toe, Cruv clapped his hands.  This was, we are pretty sure, the first time Cruv understood a complex statement.  In the next few weeks, Cruv responded to anatomy questions–”Where’s your tongue?”  Where’s your belly?” and sometimes “Where are your feet?”–with an extended tongue, lifted shirt, and pinched feet, respectively.  “Where is panda?” initiates a hurried search for his cuddly friend.  Though he has yet to find his nose, we know it and other words are soon to sink-in.  Already now, it is a wonder–a bit mind-boggling and sometimes worrisome–that the chatter, talk, and (mostly) one-way dialogue cumulatively constructs this speaking and listening person.

A, B, E, and Y
With four letters, Cruv has three words.  While at his Imama and Abu’s, after Yaron laid him down, Cruv called out, in a way more direct than before, “Abba, Abba, Abba.”  In the next few days, he did this as Yaron entered a room.  And with a doll or a picture of a baby, Cruv sometimes enunciates “baby” distinctly and clearly.  And, when guests leave, or he passes the mouse sculpture on our building’s stairway, or watches riders exit the bus, Cruv waves (really, opens and closes his hand) and says, “bye.”

Stacked, Stored, Shelved
For months, Cruv unloaded our alphabetized bookshelves, emptied cubbies stuffed with clothes, and tumbled intricate towers.  Slowly, he learned to undue puzzles and unstack colorful disks.  Suddenly, he organizes–assiduously and extensively, Cruv piles books, replaces clothes, sorts shapes, and builds blocks.  At times, it seems as if it is practice, not play:  He unpacks, packs, unpacks, and repacks.

Hugs and Snugs
Though it still seems odd to say and write, from day one, Cruv has shown patience and care.  Now, his disposition plus the tremendous examples all around him–family, friends, and nannies–equal  undoubtable loving expressions:  He smiles, reaches-out, beckons, blows kisses, and hugs.  And not only people–Cruv bear-hugs his panda and snuggles with his doll, Blahblah.

Returning to Unfamiliar Places: Snowy Mountain, Sunny Valley, Big City
Sun or snow, we love Park City.  And, since the last post, we twice visited our home-away-from-home.  Cruv smoothly adjusted to the unfamiliar space–He slept solidly (without altitude-induced farting sprees) and knew which cabinets stored what.

Day 41 Day 402

For the first time, and with a hot snowsuit (thanks, Savta Sandra),

he played in the snow.  Cruv loved the feel of cold snow and icy icicles.  He watched wide-eyed, as Utah’s lightest and finest drifted earthward.  And lots did–Yaron has tallied thirteen powder days already (thanks, Miriam, Imama, Patty, and Viorika).  Family flew-in and local friends stopped-by.  It was the perfect vacation.

From Park City, Miriam and Cruv flew to Phoenix to see, among others, Cousins Julie and Ryan’s newly arrived Bailey Hope and the expecting Uncle Phil and Aunt Ora.  On his newly capable feet, Cruv returned to Miriam’s favorite places and stomped around.  First stop:  The Farm at South Mountain.
Day 41  Day 404

After a two-day rest in the Mission, Cruv and Yaron red-eyed from SFO to JFK and, upon arrival, subwayed to the city (The next morning, Miriam arrived).  Welcomed by Doda Li, Abu, and Yaron’s classmates and teachers, Cruv knew NYC, too, was a home-away-from-home.  Over the long weekend, Cruv nibbled on a Patisserie Claude’s croissant, a Pastrami Queen sandwich, Dipalo cheese, and Applewood grits.  We saw many friends and Cruv’s New York doctor.  We visited Cousin Oren and family in their awesome Brooklyn duplex.  But the travel and action gave Cruv a runny nose.  So he rested and played at Earlwoode, with its redone third floor–puppet filled nursery (including panda’s twin), play nook, baby bath, and more.

At the airport, Cruv was sad to part with his Imama and Abu (Cruv’s been through enough airports to know what they mean).

But Terminal 5 needed to be explored, some tapas needed eating, and vacation, unfortunately, needed to end.

Where the Ocean Meets the Shore
Warmer by thirty degrees, we wasted little time to revisit one of the reasons we moved to San Francisco–It’s beautiful.  At the beach, as Cruv walked along–his tiny feet barely impressed the wet shore–he grabbed at smooth stones and sand dollars.

He reminded his parents that vacation is only as far as Cruv’s wide-eyed wonder.

(Despite good intentions and lofty promises, two months have passed since the last post.  For the sake of space and time, let us pretend we wrote this on January 2, 2009.)

New Year

As Cruv slept at home (his Imama and Abu next door), Yaron and Miriam waited for  the fireworks among new San Francisco friends, from the highest-perch of Diamond Heights.  As with the year prior, we held hands as the fireworks proclaimed the new year.  Unlike the year prior, our newborn who snuggled between us was now a toddler (yes, he toddles!) in a crib, in his room.  Cheers to a year-past, cheers for the year to come.

Bipedal, No-Pedals
Cruv’s cruised for a while, but he, uninitiated, began to stand without support from the couch or wall.  A few seconds of independence.
Update 12/2/08: Cruv stands for longer, and to his excitement.
Update 12/22/08: Cruv took a step.  As his Abba cheered, Cruv clapped.
Update 12/27/08: Cruv kinda took a few clumsy, forward-lunging steps.
Update 1/2/09: Cruv walks.  It’s amazing.  And he claps every time and gets the crowd going with him.  (Video on the next post.)

In other locomotive news, Cruv’s sleek, wooden, pedal-less, running-bike (thanks Imama and Abu)–actually, first a tricycle, then a bike–will let Cruv cruise the neighborhood, pushing with hit  feet.   The idea:  To build balance so he can ride his own two-wheeled and pedaled bike.

Bach, Tata, and Vroom
To his motorboat, Cruv added a fart sounds.  He tucks his lower lip under his top lip, tightens his chin, and let’s it rip.  Though we would like to, we cannot take credit for this one.
Cruv’s increased his letter range  (English and Hebrew–he has a great chet) and frequency.  He points and “speaks.”  When moved, he raises his arm and orates.  Birthday balloons and birds inspire particularly eager declarations–bach!  bach!

His utterances are not necessarily descriptive.  Sometimes Cruv just wants to play.  He’ll push his little blue car (thank you Imama and Abu) and mimic Yaron’s “vroom,” bang on a pot and sound-out arrhythmically, or grab our glasses and gloat.  Sounds are part of his play and play is a major part of his life:  He plays on his own, he plays with Rio, he plays with adults.  He plays hard at the park.  He initiates games and he plays-along.

Sick in a Sling
Though we learned the signs and care of a febrile baby, a snotty, sneezy,coughing, and febrile baby was a whole new experience for everyone.  Cruv indomitable good-spirit, heroic appetite, and generous night’s sleep were bested.  Consoled only by the sling, Cruv’s spent much of four days in there, as Yaron paced the dark hallway or strolled the Mission streets.  It took nearly another week, for the snot to stay home and Cruv to come-out and play.  Thankfully, Cruv’s Imama and Abu visited just in-time:  They relieved Yaron from early-morning duty, allowed Miriam daytime rest after all night rotations, and joyously cared for Cruv.  Just in time for his birthday, his sniffles were bested by smiles.

Fun-Guy and Other Culinary Observations
As Cruv’s teeth come-in (four bottom and two top), he becomes more-and-more another eater at the table, though watched by us with glee and pride.  His little fingers cannot keep pace with his fish appetite–from sushi to pickled sardines to poached halibut to whole petrale sole, Cruv eats an adult’s portion.  He chows on chewy button mushrooms, hen of the woods, shiitake, chanterelles, oyster, and king oysters, and slurps down matsutake or Oregon truffles suimono.  He smacks his lips for stinky cheeses.  To celebrate his birthday, he got his first spoonful of ice cream– homemade meyer lemon.  And, though breast is still best, Cruv’s bottles are now sometimes filled with raw cow’s milk.

Thirty-Three Candles
On day 352, Yaron and Cruv flew from SFO to LAX to see (and touch, as it turns out) Aunt Diane and Uncle Jeff’s art in a LA gallery.  Doda Li, too, was in-town, so we all watched Cruv consider Diane’s landscapes and manhandle Jeff’s metal sculptures–No one appreciated the kineticism more than Cruv.
Never to miss an opportunity to congregate and celebrate, nearly all our southern California family gathered for an early birthday party for Cruv.  Cruv ogled cousins Ethan, Max, and Zachary as they bounced of the walls and each other.   He chased his great-grandfather, Abba Eddie, who crawled with the speed and grace of a dancer.

He stared at the candle and devoured (read: demolished) his orange cupcake, made from Aunt Debby and Uncle Etan’s oranges and by Doda Li.

A few days later, joined by Ori, Betsy, and Joel (and Abby and Izzy via Skype), we lit the first candle of Hanukah and ate potato blinis with apple sauce.  On the phone or via Skype, we lit the next nine candles (nights two through four) with family far and wide.  We lit the last twenty-one candles of Hanukah (last three nights) with Cruv’s Imama and Abu.
So far–thirty-two candles.  We lit the last candle, Cruv’s birthday candle, the night after we put the Hanukiah away.

We decorated the room with cow udders (inflated hospital gloves) and introduced Cruv to uncultured cow’s milk–in this case, ice cream.

Our dining room was filled with people who have, in many ways, cared for Cruv.  Indeed, as new parents in a new city, they have taken care of us, too.
When all of the guests left, Yaron played the banjo and sang a song he wrote for Cruv.

In this month, Cruv’s changes were not as historically significant or as intensely dramatic as those of this country,

but they were numerous and awesome.

… Play
From birth, Cruv has been easygoing and super fun, but the fun-factor escalated a few degrees.  His solo-play includes new skills:  He reaches into big cups and toy-filled containers; he turns pages of a book, generally in the English direction, though sometimes as if it were  Hebrew (Does he do that only for books we have in both languages?  That would be cool).  The biggest changes are in his interpersonal play.  As we learned from Aunt Amy, he makes motorboat sounds, our index fingers vibrating Cruv’s willing lips.

As his Aunt Rachel sits at the dinner table, Cruv crawls to her chair, pulls-up to her side, and waits for a look.  As soon as she turns her head, he hides behind the chair and then pops-out, hides and pops-out, and hides and pops-out.  He plays peekaboo in anything

and with anyone (including himself).

Each time, he smiles and, sometimes, laughs.  On the floor, sitting-up between his Imama’s legs, Cruv grabbed the ball Yaron rolled to him.  And then he threw it back.  We played this game over and over, though sometimes Cruv’s hand shot back-and-forth with the ball firmly in his grip.  With Doda Li, Cruv  crawls around corners and giggles at his aunt’s surprise.  Of course, we play outside the apartment, too.  Cruv loves trips to the many local parks.  He swings, see-saws, slides, and more.

… Play (with Friends)
Under Kimberly’s loving watch, Cruv and Rio (who just celebrated his first birthday), really play (not just parallel play):  They stomp on the keyboard, Cruv pulls Rio’s curly locks, Rio leans on Cruv’s big melon, and they share  toys.  Cruv attentively watches Rio’s new developments (walking, stacking objects) and practices when he gets home.

Last week, when Kimberly went to a meeting, Rio came and played with Cruv at our apartment.  Though  Cruv’s Doda Li assisted for part of the time, when she took a phone meeting Yaron had two babies.  How did it go?  He paged Miriam, “Let’s have more babies!”  (muffinintheoven.com will not  relaunch just yet).

… Remember Distant Family
This month, Cruv’s Savta Sandra, Abu (unphotographed on this trip), Doda Li, and Imama visited.  He did not hesitate to leap into their arms and soak-up their kisses.

Cruv explored wine country with Savta Sandra, kept dry and giggly with his Abu when it rained all weekend, hiked Muir Woods with his Doda Li, and nibbled at the  the Ferry Building Farmer’s market with his Imama.  In each case, our guests joined our days in perfect rhythm and stride (even his Doda Li, a week after her marathon).  Their departures, though, always feel abrupt.

… Cruise
Cruv’s crawl is swift and smooth, but everyday he is more and more bipedal.  He can pull-up on a chair, wall, leg, door, or dishwasher and, as long as he can make the connection, he will stay upright until the route dead-ends.  With hands held (and even one hand held), Cruv walks a real distance and, just yesterday, before he lunged into Yaron’s arms, he stayed upright long enough for Miriam to go electric.  What a ride!
When there is a long way to go and a short time to get there, Yaron and Cruv helmet-up and ride.  As one of Miriam’s fellow residents (who sees the riders “all around the Mission–like once you see Waldo, he’s everywhere”) answered when asked if Cruv looked happy (happier than in the photo below): “He looks like an adolescent on a rollercoaster!”  Here we go!

… See Animals
In September, when Cruv visited New York, he toured Stone Barns–a sustainable farm on a Rockefeller Estate.  A few feet from sizable, snorting pigs,  Cruv’s gaze fixated on the fence that divided them.  In the past four weeks, Cruv visited the bustling and sunny Academy of Sciences (first with us and second with Doda Li) and the deserted and overcast San Francisco Zoo.  At the former, Cruv watched with delight as shimmering fish darted and fluorescent frogs hopped.

At the latter, in his Abu’s arms, Cruv watched bipedal gorillas and hungry giraffes, and petted cozy sheep and horned goats.  By the duck pond, Cruv echoed their quacks with squeals.  All along, Cruv huffed-and-puffed, grunted, and chirped with glee.

… Be an Infant Gourmand
As the seasons transition (enter winter squash, sweet potato, persimmon, citrus, etc)  and new foods are struck from the possible allergy list, Cruv’s palette and range develop.  We all await the first top tooth (his fourth bottom tooth broke through), for it will open new textural possibilities.

In the past weeks, here’s a sample of Cruv’s daily menus.  For breakfast: St Benoit yogurt with grapes or oats with raisins.  For lunch: maybe Lebanese couscous, avocado, and zucchini or French lentil salad (which he prefers to yellow lentils).  For dinner:  poached striped bass with fish fumet or dashi and tofu or brown rice with vegetable curry.  (Despite Yaron’s efforts at infant-gourmandism, Cruv also has snuck handfulls of dirt.  The first handfull, Yaron could claim degustatory curiosity; the second, not so much.)
All along, of course, Cruv’s day is punctuated by Miriam’s milk with, at least, a morning, afternoon, and an evening feed.  In absentia, the bottle still pinch-hits.

Afterword: Heart of the City (by Yaron)
Every Sunday and Wednesday, Cruv and I go to the Heart of the City farmer’s market via the nine bus.  In front of San Francisco General Hospital, with the saddest and sickest of the city, for whom Miriam cares every day, we wait for the bus.  Once aboard, we listen to the aimless murmurings of the mentally disturbed and impromptu counseling of recovering addicts.  Some carry bright-blue hygiene-bags courtesy of SFGH, others drag bags filled with cans and bottles.  They do not ride the bus like everyone, but they do with everyone.  At the farmer’s market, among shoppers of foraged mushrooms and heirloom beans, Thai eggplants and tomatillos, are the downtrodden and streetbound with food stamps.  Where were these people in New York?  Nearly every ride, the bus drivers answer this question.  Recently, on our way back from the market, an ashen man with droopy arms boarded the bus from a back door.  The driver called-out, “Do you have a pass?”  “No,” he said,  “I’m going to the hospital.  Is that okay?”  As she closed the door, she said, “Next time, board in the front.”  So speaks the heart of the city.

Six weeks–oh my, the changes are huge and so is this post (nonetheless, we are sure there are omissions).  We apologize for the huge gap and thank you for keeping the faith.  Enjoy.

Nanny Kimberly and Rio (Not yet pictured)
This month, Cruv started a four-day-a-week commute to Kimberly, his nanny, and Rio, Kimberly’s son and Cruv’s buddy-to-be.  At noon of each weekday but Wednesday, Yaron walks, bikes, or runs Cruv to Kimberly’s apartment at the base of Bernal Heights where Cruv explores, eats, naps, and learns (or listens to) Spanish.  Each day, Kimberly brings the little-ones to Precita Park or the Mission Library and, at five, Yaron (and sometimes Miriam) excitedly waits for the buzzer.  Upon return, Cruv is all smiles (for us and Kimberly) and happy to be home.  And we know he had a good time, because, as we walk upstairs, he peers down to the door, looking for his nanny.

The Crawl to a Cruise (Not yet pictured)
Cruv graduated from the commando-crawl and now rocks a full-crawl.  Belly off the ground, Cruv is swift and deliberate.  And the raised approach allows for easier transitions to his standing position.  The only downside: The kitchen floor is dirtier  (though his onesies are cleaner).
If it’s near three-feet tall with a gripable edge, Cruv can climb it: second shelf of his wall unit, couch, open dishwasher, dining room chair, pot for jade plant.  Once up, he’ll grab whatever is in reach and put in his mouth (even the soil).  More recently, Cruv will cruise (side-step as he holds-on to a couch or wall).  When he’s done, he can safely and gently find his ways to knees or his well-padded bum.  More than the physical feat, this development is a new stage in Cruv’s curiosity:  Places and spaces in another realm are suddenly his to see, touch and taste.  His Abu installed child (and earthquake) guards just in time.

He approaches the new world with equal parts intensity and wonder.

Three Teeth to Tooth Tasty Treats
Encouraged by the sight of chewable food, Cruv willed a third tooth.  His food rectangle has morphed to a pyramid.  Beyond the delicious fruits (most recently, fig) and vegetables (most recently, Abu’s green beans and local avocados), he’s added yogurt, cottage cheese, fregola, tofu, black beans, oats, and, salmon sashimi at Sushi Ran (the Bay Area’s best sushi restaurant).

While before he ate food irregularly, he now eats three meals a day (sometimes with three courses each).  Of course, with food diversity (especially delicious fruit) comes dental hygiene.  Every morning, Yaron and Cruv give their teeth and gums an electric tooth brush cleaning (Cruv without toothpaste).

Un- and Re-Snuggled
On Day 3, Cruv chilled and snuggled in the spacious luxury of his Snuggle Nest Deluxe.

On Day 252, it was neither spacious nor functional.  On Day 253, Cruv woke and rolled to unsnuggled freedom.  The Snuggle Nest was retired.

With two weeks on the road, all the bad sleep habits without bad results began to have bad results.  After nearly thirty weeks of full-night sleeps, we had two weeks with too few.  Upon return to The Mission, the Snuggle Nest was back and we added a little more discipline on our part.  To bed before nine, with double diapers, and eyes still open, the transition was hard but mercifully fast.  On night one, Cruv, unable to rest and roused to his feet, cried for an unending-thirty minutes.  On night two, Cruv cried for a very-long-fifteen minutes.   On night three, he cried for a barely audible three minutes.  On night four, he released a sigh and whimper.  On night five, he cried for way-too-long.  But since then, after Miriam feeds Cruv and Yaron and he listen to BIll Evans and relax, Cruv snuggles-up with his orange bunny (thanks Uncle Noam and Aunt-to-be Julie) and eases himself to sleep.

Fall and Fall-Fever
For eight months, Cruv was healthy with barely a scratch or dent.  Within two weeks, Cruv had his first (only?) scary tumble and a low-grade fever.  Though neither demanded a hospital visit (though Miriam made house-calls), the first inspired a sustained wail, bump, and abrasion, the second caused a sad lethargy.  Both hit us in a fearful place.

Local Family, Friendly Visits, Family Vacations
In the last weeks, visitors slept on our guest bed and couch and we crashed on others’ beds and couches.  With Ari and Tamar on the Murphy bed, Doda Li camped in the dining room, below her succulents.  Together, we played, toured, and ate burritos.  Cruv sat for a Tamar photo shoot.

Aunt Rachel loves her SF nephew, her “sweet pea,” so much, she comes to see him in The Mission whenever she can–last-minute dinners, drop-bys after meetings.  But sometimes we even make plans, like a day trip to Half Moon Bay.

From the quotidian to the fantastic, Rachel (and Jonathan) are woven into Cruv’s life.
And we cannot rely only on family to visit or follow us here.
For Miriam’s first of two vacations, we flew to PHX and JFK, though Cruv and Miriam made a bonus stop at BWI.  With Cruv’s and Phoenix’s temperature at one-hundred degrees, familial arms (Savta Sandra’s and Great-Uncle Irwins’s pictured), the pool, and Le Grande Orange provided respite.  Happier held and cuddled, Cruv barely touched the ground.  All who could (Uncle Phil, Aunt Ora, Uncle David, Aunt Amy, Great-Aunt Tina, Cousin Jen, Cousin Anthony, and more) came to hold our feverish baby.

Though he could not hold him, Nathan sweetly attended to his baby cousin.

By the end of our stay, his eyes were big, smile wide, and momentum uncontainable.

From there, Miriam and Cruv headed to Bubbie, Cruv’s great-grandmother.  The tumultuous world sighs in relief when these happy forces unite:  All-love is Bubbie’s way and it’s the only way Cruv knows.  As Cruv and Miriam said goodbye, Bubbie said, “He’ll never know how happy he made me.”  Now he will.

At JFK, the family reunited.  We were at Earlwoode with Cruv’s Imama, Abu (aka Professor Elcott), Aunt Talia, Uncle Aaron, and Cousin Oren.  Cruv went on tiyyulim to Abu’s garden and hanging lamps, bright prints, and painted plates.  With his Imama by his side, Cruv toppled towers and scrounged for blocks.

For bits a time, we got to play tourist in the city of Cruv’s birth.  Miriam and Yaron ate Lou and Sal’s cheese and Claude’s croissant.  Cruv ate Otto’s farro with corn.  More important than his Batali introduction, Cruv met Professor Wolfson, Yaron’s teacher, a long-anticipated meeting.  Though they exchanged only a few sounds, Professor Wolfson’s voice, we are sure, was familiar to Cruv:  Since the day of Cruv’s birth, Yaron has whispered-in-his-ear Professor Wolfson’s teachings.

For Shabbat Abby and Izzy unfolded the red couch and we unleashed the Pack-and-Play (thank you Aunt Talia and Uncle Aaron).  We toured Columbia University with Uncle Noam (aka Professor Elcott) and Aunt-to-be Julie.
Surrounded by his East Coast family, with an apple and honey bib (thank you Savta Sandra) and a bite of apple, Cruv brought-in the New Year.

New Year
For us, nearly nothing is the same from last year to now.  This time last year, we started MuffinInTheOven.com:  Cruv was a possibility, a beautiful and hopeful thing.

We knew neither his hair color nor cry, though we heard both first.  Miriam had never breastfed.  We had not held his tiny body and huge head.  He had not yet wrapped his fingers around our hand.    We had never changed a diaper.   We had never spoken his name.

We could not have imagined his life-changing smile.  He had not yet taught us of his patience and generosity.  The never, could-nots, and not-yets are countless.  Of all the new identities of this year–M.D., A.B.D, San Franciscans, among them–nothing is more new nor more thrilling than parenthood.

For us, nearly everything is new from last year to now.  An awesome new year.

“And I’m a Mac”
Cruv loves to tumble towers (especially his Abu’s intricate designs) and pull at electrical cords (despite our best efforts at “discipline”), but nothing gets his motor humming like Yaron’s MacBook.  This video was taken with the built-in camera. Thus as Cruv chases the laptop, he also pursues his image, which strikes his fancy, twice.

With His Own Two Legs
With a firm grip on the couch, his chair (Thank you Great-Aunt Tina), or his crib, Cruv stands tall, dips his knees, plays with whatever is within reach.  At first, he could do this only when positioned, but he pulls himself to his chair and the raised breakfast nook.

Toothsome
Underreported in the last post:  Cruv has a tooth.  Wait.  In the last three weeks, he added a second tooth.  Both take a prominent position in his smile and a  sometimes painful role in his playful finger-suck.  Though his two teeth do not help with truly toothsome foods, he has added hand-smushed fruit from the farmer’s market (peaches, nectarines, melons, plums, and grapes) to the menu of pureed foods (for example, fava beans, broccoli, Japanese sweet potato).

Happily, his primary source of food–Miriam–has not felt the effects of his toothy mouth.

Full-House
These weeks teemed with people–house-guests (Abu and Imama), new but temporary neighbors (Aunt Talia, Uncle Aaron, and Cousin Oren), new and cross-the-bay neighbor (Hannah), and visitors (Savta Sandra, Abby and Izzy, Debby, Etan, and Sarah, and Aaron Neinstein.

Twenty-hours after they were scheduled to arrive, Cruv’s Abu and Imama leapt into Cruv’s embrace.  For the next ten days, they rocked the guitar and rattle, read cardboard books, worked on child-safety projects, toured San Francisco, and, as Cruv and his Imama partied, Abu and Yaron sneaked-out for awesome rides.

The much anticipated meeting of Cruv and Oren filled the lively room with quiet sweetness (beautiful captured by Aaron N).

New acquaintances, we know they will be best-buds soon.  With their little ones in their respective slings, Yaron and Talia look forward to lazy days while their busy-partners slave-away at their respective offices.
Despite the many guests, neighbors, and visitors, Cruv, every so often, finds himself alone.  And, as was the case from week one, he is content to be by his lonesome, a beautiful child in a world of wonder.

While in his sling, two particular wonders captivate Cruv: trees and light bulbs.  He’ll crane his neck below the shade of a tree or follow the glow of the bulb as we descend our stairway to the street.

“This is the Way the Lady Rides”
So starts the sing-song-game Rosanne played with Cruv.  Though they met at his Brit, they did not fully bond until Day 36.  Held tight and spoken-to gently, Cruv knew this was special.  They were bound from then on.  On Day 110, Rosanne was diagnosed with cancer, again, again.  Through coughs, fatigue, and pain, Rosanne always got the update on Cruv.  This morning, on Day 242, as Cruv slept in his crib, Roseanne died.  For us, a pitch-black shadow reigned over this blue-sky day.  We thank Cruv, whose sunshine never ceases, for he gladdened his saddened Ima and mended his broken Abba, if only in spurts.  In return, Cruv, ask that we tell you of Rosanne and demand we love you as she loved us.

A few additions:
On Flickr, we added pictures taken by Rama from Jeff and Lydia’s wedding (Day 169) and by Brinton from Jordan’s Bar Mitzvah (Day 182).  Here are two favorites.

And, for the last post, here’s a self-portrait of Yaron and Cruv starting their day.

Tourists Leading Tourists
So it felt as we toured first Jordan and, a week later, Noam and Julie around San Francisco.

Through the variable summer weather (Yes, Jordan is in a sweatshirt and Cruv a wool hat), we visited museums (Contemporary Jewish Museum twice and SFMoMA with more to come), ate donuts and Mexican, picnicked outside a creamery, and walked on the beach.

A Room of his Own
A few days shy of his seven-month birthday, our roommate moved-out or, more accurately, down the hall.  In a handsome crib (Thank you Savta Sandra), adorned with the perfect pattern, impeccably converted from crib sheets to bumpers (Thank you Imama),

Cruv sleeps the night in spacious luxury (though still in his Snuggle Nest).

Two Wheels, Two Riders
Cruv added yet another mode of transportation (sling, stroller, running stroller, car-seat trolly, car, taxi, bus, electric bus, subway, commuter train, plane [Did I leave anything out?]): front-row seat on Yaron’s bike (Thank you Talia and Aaron).  Protected with a helmet and three-point harness (no spandex, yet), Cruv navigates (or eats the chin strap) as he and Yaron cruise the Mission.  Pictures soon.

What a Drag, So Last Week
When we intended to update the blog, Cruv just broke the mobility barrier:  He coordinated his arms so to drag his lower body a few feet.  In a few days, a few feet became across a room, though slowly.  In a few more days, he reached the threshold of a room, though stopped at the wood of the hallway or the linoleum of the kitchen.  In a few more days, he dragged himself from the dining room to the hallway to the kitchen.  Last night, as Yaron drew a bath, Cruv followed the sound from his room into the bathroom.  At the speed of Cruv, this video is dated.

Backed-Up Against the Wall
The range of motion and locomotion continues.  A week-or-so ago, when on his belly, Cruv lifted his midsection so as to free weight.  This maneuver, so we were told, is a critical step on the way to crawling.  After many repetitions of the mid-body lift, he added a backward crawl into the mix: a single lunge in reverse.  This move, combined with his scoot, has resulted in several in a situation the opposite of the long-gone Milgrom-Elcott station wagon: Cruv backs himself into a spot whence he cannot free himself.

“Give Peas a Chance”
So says Cruv’s bib.  And Cruv obliges.  In the breakfast nook, Yaron shucked a few dozen pods of super-sweet green peas.  Shocked, blanched, and pureed in peapod-infused water (“Lots of pea-ness in this dish”), Cruv took spoonfulls of the bright-green deliciousness.  At first, we held his hands, wily obstacles to a clean delivery.

Quickly, he learned to luxuriate in being fed.

Nili
In a first part-time nanny, we hoped for a careful set of eyes and watchful arms.  More than we hoped,  Nili cared for Cruv with wide-eyed joy and open-armed warmth.  Because of her genuine attachment and excitement, her departure made us  (and, maybe, Nili) sad, particularly as Cruv will never remember her special role.  In a strange way, Yaron hoped Cruv, too, could be sad.  But, as Nili noted, Cruv quickly refocused on a colorful and munchable toy.  At the door, with Cruv in his arms, Yaron said, “I wish, at least, Cruv could say thank you and goodbye.”  And, in a moment of profound sweetness and utter coincidence, Cruv pronounced a clear “guh.”  In retrospect, we hope that, some day, Cruv will say to Nili, “Hello and thank you.”

Happy Baby
In his near daily visits to the hospital, Cruv seems to find the sickest looking person in the elevator and share the sunshine.  Each time, the smile is returned.  “What a happy baby,” they say.  Indeed.  And, after several weeks of trying, he can express his happy-babyness in the less-universal language of yoga.

Check-Up/Paycheck
For the first in either of our lives, employment rather than student-life provide us with healthcare.  Covered by Miriam’s HealthNet plan, Yaron and Cruv headed to Noe Valley, the neighboring neighborhood, for Cruv’s six-month check-up.  All checked-out well (cuteness confirmed), even with shots in each leg.  A few days later, Miriam’s got her first paycheck for her heartfelt care, heartrending patients, and heartless hours (This is real; no numbers changed): 91 cents!  (Picture to be added soon.)

Yellow is the Color of My True Loves’ Hair
Most mornings, way too early in the morning, Miriam is woken by her alarm.

We move the body pillow between us and cuddle before she transforms into Dr. Sheinbein.  A couple hours later, Yaron hears Cruv stir or tug at a toy hanging on the side of the bassinet.  Yaron rises, warms some milk, and tiptoes to the bassinet.  As soon as he enters Cruv sightline, Cruv’s shiny eyes get big, he smiles wide, and kicks his legs.  After a fresh diaper, Yaron and Cruv get back into bed, Cruv eats, and falls back asleep.  Yaron either reads or sleeps by his side.  When Cruv wakes again, they play belly-to-belly and spelunk under the covers.  A magic morning.

(An unrelated, but funny picture)

Saturday night, Yaron flew the SFO-JFK redeye.  At landing Yaron seriously missed his morning ritual, though the morning had not yet started on Pacific Time.  Luckily, he arrived into Earlwoode just in time to watch Talia and Aaron feed, rinse, and change the super-cute and sprightly Oren.  His first morning away was a magic morning.