Zora Travels

wine, jazz, and neon accessories

The sun set yesterday with glistening plantains and empanada remnants upon my lips, a glass of Spanish wine in my hand, a gentle breeze at my back, and my mom and two aunties dancing to Cuban jazz.  The Hollywood Bowl came alive to the groovy notes of Ninety Miles and Arturo Sandoval.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was a night to remember.  One in which Andy Garcia played bongo drums as my Aunt Pat's toes wiggled atop our box seats.  My mom passed dulce de leche cookies as my Auntie Barbara squeezed our hands and whooped and hollered. In the box to our left, a grandma blinked with neon accessories (necklace, ring, keychain, and even her ice-cubes and wine glass...all alit and flashing madly).

 

 

 

 

Soon, night embraced our musical realm.  The red wine drips on my shirt faded into blackness, the neon jewelry blinked brighter, my mom's hands kneaded the knots in my shoulders (the small cost of 8 days of walking in Boston with Nora in a back pack)...I ate more cookies, drank more wine.

Then the lights rose again upon the stage.  Blues and reds bathed the members of Buena Vista Social Club.  A woman with liquid hips and generous cleavage swayed behind her microphone.  A man with an electric smile, a shiny suit, and a "gracia, mucha gracia" began to sing through his smile.  The drums, the bongos, the piano, the bass, the trumpets...all whipping us into a joyful frenzy.  You can't NOT dance to Cuban music...it would mean you're somehow broken inside.  It is quite simply auditory utopia.

 

 

And finally, after several songs, SHE arrived. Omara Portuondo.

One of the few "original" members that you would surely remember if you have seen the documentary.

Her flowing white dress swished to the floor, barely concealing her silver Birkenstocks.  Her hair pinned back and wrapped in an enormous gold bow.  Her fingers and knuckles curled and bent in aged angles.  Her back gently curved.  And her voice...her voice finds you.  Enters your body.  Reverberates there and nestles into your bones.  Exits through your smile.  She claps and expects you to clap for her.  She points at you.  She speaks her few English words with a heavy-laced caramel tongue.  She wants you to stand and dance and smile.  You don't deny her.  You can't deny her.

At the end of the show, she blows air kisses to us all, she says "Bye, bye, bye, bye" and waves her gnarled knuckles to us.  I do not know if I'll ever see her and experience her voice again.  We hopped aboard our party shuttle bus, passing the crushed box of cookies once more, drinking the final splashes of white wine, accepting dark chocolate mints from tipsy strangers...all of us dipped in the honey of Havana's pulse...closing our eyes and squeezing hands and savoring our own memories of music, dance, and family.

I slipped the key in our front door close to 1am.  Daniel and Nora slept soundly.  Wine had settled into my mind making cobwebs and waves. A guaranteed brutal morning.  But my toes wiggled as I fell asleep.  My mind danced and memories pooled.

"Cheers" to my Aunt Barbara for a musical birthday celebration befitting her dancing spirit. I will never know sisterhood - but I always bask gratefully in the light of this trio.

 

Fotos am Freitag: Week 40 - "Inside-Out" Day Poolside

Forty weeks.  My mistletoe baby who once danced, hiccuped, and kicked for forty weeks within me...has now been forty weeks outside of me.  Her "inside-out" day.  She was much quieter then...but much more fun now. 

I'm freshly showered after a sun-soaked-poolside afternoon, Nora slumbers sweetly on the monitor, cats frolic, the timer for the diapers ticks...and the night is still.  It's a big Friday night.  Asleep by 9:00pm is my goal.  Just need to stick the diapers on the hot rinse wash...and it's to bed I go.  Still contemplating whether or not I should eat the leftover slice of pizza which my aunt cruelly sweetly gave me.

Nora and I spent our day aside the familiar pool, fiesta tiles, and palm fronds of my Aunt Pat and Uncle John's today.  Noodle splashed in the brisk water for hours without complaint.  She beat her arms madly.  Reached for june bugs floating on the surface.

 

 

Picked dried plants from the pots.  Snacked on oregano and rosemary...and snuck a few bits of dirt in her cherubim mouth, too. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was a splendid day with my girl.  We are at the tail end (I hope) of her teething for a while.  She screams me awake four times a night lately...and naps very little. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I wondered about venturing to my aunt's with her sleepy eyes...but as soon as she saw Izzy, and Teta Pat's smile, and Uncle John's spinning wheelchair, all was well in her world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She was fascinated by my uncle's chair.  Watching him zoom through the rooms and around the pool...carrying his pina colada with style.  As soon as I put her down on the floor to roam during dinner, she was slapping the slate floor until she reached his feet.  Pulling herself up to his knees...asking for a ride (as only those eyes and lashes can ask).  Soon, she was pushing his hand off the joystick and trying to steer.  It was her screeches and his laugh that I'll cherish.

She continues to amaze us all with her palate.  In addition to her scrumptious meal last weekend of Korean kale, mushroom salad, and seaweed...she ate mouthfuls tonight of roasted tomatoes, green peppers, onions and garlic.  Particularly fond of the garlic bits and onion slivers.

Hopefully, it washed down the bits of dirt from earlier. 

*You can see it right?  Her pursed lips are the tell-tale sign of dirt eating.  Add in some sunblock and pool water for a perfect mouthful.

 

Fotos am Freitag: Week 36 - Soccer Hooligan

Nora sat in my lap on her bedroom rug this morning.  This is not unusual.  She clapped her hands wildly and made high-pitched sounds to mimic the "Yay" that we often say as she's clapping.  Again, nothing special.

What made it glorious and memorable was that seated near us were her Tita Marie and Tita Alexis (or make that 2nd Lieutenant Tita Alexis).  Pajama-clad, bed-hair, beaming smiles and sing-song voices.  Marie belting out a continuous flow of Sounders' fan-club tunes.  A lyrical litany encouraging the drinking, ass-kicking, and fancy footwork of the Emerald City soccer players.  Football hooligan chants.  Noodle loved them.  She clapped in rhythm...turning her head occasionally to make sure I, too, was witnessing this miracle of music.

I smiled.  Because I was happy.  She was happy.  Her aunties were happy.

And to make the Sounders-mania complete, Nora sported her very own pint-sized FIFA soccer jersey. GOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAALLLLLL!

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lucky #9

Noodle is now slumbering in the state of Nevada.  It was her ninth airplane ride...this one packed with Pacquiao fight fans...and after a bumpy and nauseating descent into the Las Vegas Valley, playing with Aunti Anna, and cuddling with her Lola, she insisted on her same bed time.  Quite the little schedule she's keeping.

This weekend's gallivanting is nipping at the heels of our Washington trip.  Luckily, Nora is a super-traveler.  Ever the observer and social butterfly.  This makes traveling with her enjoyable.  Not that post-baby vacations are at all similar to those of pre-baby.  I have these hazy memories of landing in Vegas, helping myself to several Bailey's on ice, snacking on salty nuts, and staying up into the wee hours of the morning watching International Househunters.  Mornings were lazy...waking up well after 10am...smelling the sizzle of breakfast.  Drinking giant cups of coffee.  Bathing in the light of the giant television.

Now there are glasses of water, bowls of blueberries for snacking, and an early bed time (to preserve my energy for the multiple nursings).  Gurgles will wake me at dawn.  Noodle and I will greet the desert morning light around 6:00am.  Breakfast will contain the colors of the rainbow...little shine; lotta fiber.  Coffee will be herbal tea.

But, hey, at least there will still be the television.  All of our parents have cable and glorious shiny televisions.  Daniel and I both sit slack-jawed drooling in each of their homes.  Playing a tricky game of keeping Nora's face turned while loving the images ourselves (our hypocrisy starts early).

Someone once said that vacations are more work for the mother than staying at home.  Oh, how true this is.  The thinking, packing, traveling, unpacking, sleeping pattern shifts, nap concerns, and repacking, traveling, unpacking, laundry, re-shifting sleeping patters, and re-establishing naps.  It's exhausting.  And worth it.  We are going to keep right on doing it.  Whenever possible.  Nora needs to visit our families...and also the big beautiful world.

After all, Daniel and I met because of travel.  I typed the following words into the search window on match.com.

"Gabriel Garcia Marquez + travel"

Easter Growls & Crawls

There is a plethora of memories, photos, videos and moments that I want to unfurl on this here blog...but alas, it is 9:35pm...I am ready to head to bed...thus it is yet another video installment.

Noodle had an entire growling conversation with her Grandpa today.  She also demonstrated consistent crawls on the carpet.  Over and over again she thumped unsteadily towards an object or a person today.  It was glorious.  My face hurt from smiling.  It was a magnificent day in so many ways.

Yesterday also brought the entire family of my dad and step-mom together...and there was a trip slipped in to have the long awaited meeting between the sweet & spicy Alice and Nora.

Several videos are below...the photos and stories shall come more in the future.  On a night when my stomach doesn't ache from chocolate, pie, chips, and cocktails.  Oh, vacation, vacation.  So good ---- and so very very bad.

Let the videos begin.

 

Lovin' her Lola & Auntie

When my mother-in-law is around, my arms feel rested.  From Noodle's first morning chirp until her final eye rubs at dusk, these two ladies are spinning their love nest.  Nora's eyes brighten when she sees her Lola...tiny grins...and a head-bobbing search for her when they are in the same room.

 

 

 

Yesterday's family quilt was brightened by the addition of Anna. Nuggs dressed in the onesie that her flower child aunt gave her.  I adore watching Nora's face as she looks at Anna's.  It is the clear recognition of her father's face; a well-known voice, yet in female form.  A similar silliness.  A comfortable and instant love.

 

 

 

So, the living room was soon filled with laughter, music, and kisses.  Here are a few videos and my favorite picture.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kapampangan children's songs...Anna & Daniel remembered them fondly.  Noodle was smitten.

 

Swimming the rivers

We pulled off another Christmas split this year.  Morning with my mom in Long Beach.  Evening with Daniel's family in Vegas.  Previous years this split has felt a bit frazzled...this year it felt like a whirlwind.  Finding and holding onto the holiday spirit whilst packing for myself and Noodle, preparing gifts for both families, nursing, attempting to nap Nora, celebrating at one house and then traveling to the airport for a party late into the night left me a bit weary.  And weary is simply not an option for the embrace and energy of our Vegas family.  No matter the time of our arrival or Nora's protests in her car seat, we always have a huge family gathering waiting.  We left the festive calm of my mom's house serving a warm frittata and povitica to a handful to enter the vibrant love of Daniel's grandma's house serving shrimp lumpia and chicken adobo to a massive crowd -- and even complete with a priest giving a seminar upon our arrival.

I have never before walked into a private home with a priest conducting a reflective lesson.  By this late hour on Christmas night at either my mom's or dad's, I would have been sipping on Bailey's and watching "A Christmas Story" in my pajamas.  In Vegas, we were circling our character adjectives and holding hands to sing religious songs in Kapampangan...and you have the unspoken feeling that a female drinking a cocktail is not encouraged.  I am never more struck by the diverse flavors of our families then when I split the day between the two.  It is exciting to know that Nora will always swim these two rivers as one.  She will relish her various cultures, savor the flavors of the Croats and the Filipinos, and enjoy a few phrases of her Lolas (my grandma is named Lola and in Daniel's family dialect, Kapampangan, all older women are "Lola"). She will always know this holiday medley.  One home with ipods calmly playing carols and another with jingles being belted out on the karaoke machine.  One with an emphasis on Santa...the other with an emphasis on Jesus.  Neither better or worse.  Both overflowing with hugs, kisses, memories, laughter, and stories.  Each family showering her with attention, smiles, and coos.  We are lucky.

Four generations.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Four generations.

 

Thanksgiving in Vegas

All my travel jitters were for naught.  Nora was so bedazzled by the lights and sounds of the airport that she barely made a peep.  My breastmilk needed just a simple fume test with strips to pass security.  And the take off and landing were two snaps with Noodle nursing underneath her cover.

She was such a peach that we even visited Aunts and Uncles at 11:00pm so they could get their first sip of Nuglett sauce.  And in order to make Daniel and I appear crazy with our "she cries loud" mantra, she didn't make a sound the entire visit...she kindly waited to scream until we had pulled away from the house.

 

 

This amazing "vacation version" of our daughter continued today at church.  Naturally, you could find the entire family at this morning's 9:00am mass.  The familiar cadence of the priest's Filipino-English, chiming of bells, scurrying of cousins, and arms of smiling relatives surrounded Nora today and for hours she only drooled and stared at all of the new faces. 

 

 

 

 

At one point, to our thrill, she even napped with Lola.  There she was, hours since the breast; without pacifiers, blankets, noise-machines, yoga balls...simply sleeping in her lola's arms. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There were her two other baby girl cousins, Chelsea and Cloe, also smitten with their lolas.  Nora is guaranteed oodles of fun in this triple-cousin brigade.  We can see them now tearing up each holiday, dressed to the nines, smiles, teeth, giggles, dances, songs.  We expect full talent shows to start in a few years.

 

 

 

 

And as I hit "publish" on this post, we await the magnificent bounty of the Thanksgiving feast.  There are the traditional smells of my childhood mixed with the Filipino aromas of dishes that I've only started to know...some, yes, I am still nervous to try (anything that has blood as an ingredient, for instance).  These people. this home, these foods will always be a comfort, a refuge, a joy for Nora.  Into the tapestry of her childhood will weave the the bouncing dance of her lola, the ever-present video camera of her lolo, the laughter of her aunt, the dishes of her Auntie Ruffa, the aged-photos of loved ones passed on the walls, and the karaoke ballads that will certainly be heard later in the evening. 

I may not be home for Thanksgiving but my husband's smile always reminds me just how glorious it is to be here.

 

 

 

Fotos am Freitag: 8 Weeks - Owl Girl

 
8 weeks have gone screaming by.  The pun is intended.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The great thing about some of Noodle's huge meltdowns are that my mom can bouncer her on the yoga ball, too.

 

And on the rare occassion that Nuggs is sleeping in some contraption, my mom even makes me a lunch that looks like this.  (Do you notice the sweet heart of creme freche in the butternut squash soup?  Ridiculous, isn't it.  Very Martha Stewartish.)

Although this afternoon's "Nora Melody" didn't allow me to participate in the making of salt-dough Christmas ornaments...I did hold Nuglett and watch my mom cut out ornaments that will be baked, painted, and varnished in time to garnish packages for loved ones.  She even used a garlic press to make Santa Clause hair.  Again, very Martha.

 

 

The smile that clouded everything

Daniel's mom is bouncing Nora on the yoga ball as we speak.  I am scarfing down a lovely chicken salad and just hoping for 10 more minutes "Nuglett-free" to eat and use the restroom.  These are such luxuries and Ma is making so many of them possible this week.  My left arm is getting quite a break from holding the Little One. 

What a lucky little girl Nora is to have three Grandmas to love her up.  Every single one of them could take her for a weekend in the future...without any question. Not that I wouldn't feel similar to Claire with a bit of sadness, as she currently experiences three days of Veronica at the grandparents' house, but I think I would relish this time so much.

When could such a weekend occur?  Is it too soon to wish for it in November?  I just want to snuggle with Daniel without a nursing baby between us.  It is my dream of late.  Luckily, when we are all ready, there are many arms to take her.

And I suppose that this future babyless weekend is even stronger in my mind today because of last night.  Thank goodness that babies are so darn cute because after last night...it is Noodle's silky skin, little fingernails, cooing sounds, and dark brown eyes that bring me back from the edge.  Last night she did not want to sleep --- actually all yesterday AND last night she didn't want to sleep.  Simply wanted to nurse, and nurse, and fuss...then nurse, and nurse, and fuss.  And this pushed my thoughts into the time long ago when I fell asleep curled near the heat of my husband, reaching for him in the morning, waking up and fixing him boiled eggs and coffee before he leaves for work.  Instead, I woke up every hour or so...took a very active baby out into the dark cold living room and watched an episode of Dexter, asking her softly, "What's wrong Sweet Girl?" and only hearing frantic lips smacking and feeling her head turning madly side-to-side as she roots for my breast (for the fifth straight hour).

When Daniel leaned over us girls at 7:00am to wish us a good day, my bloodshot eyes and raspy voice unraveled the tale of our night.  I couldn't help but think how very different this slice of morning was only six weeks before.  I would have been clad in my white robe, swollen Nuglett belly barely covered by the velvet fabric.  Kissing Daniel on the sidewalk and waving to him as he pulls away and disappears around the corner.  Then I would kneel to pick up the paper and head inside, rubbing my belly, and soon drinking a smoothie while I soaked up the LA Times...two hands, well-rested, at peace, no hurry.

But here's where nature's genius is never more obvious.  I am a bit loopy today.  A bit tired.  Tense shoulders and neck from negotiating various nursing positions out on the couch late at night.

YET

When Nora (right before this picture was taken) smiled as I buried my face in her belly, I felt rejuvenated, thrilled, electric, warm, and joyful.  Sure, I'm still tired.  But her smile, her first 100% TRUE SMILE, and I mean a legitimate (no gas involved) grin, radiating from those squirrel cheeks with arched brows and squinting eyes, simply clouded every other sensation.

**Today's video below shows a wiggling Nuggs in great spirits after her morning walk...wearing adorable grey booties from her Auntie Anna.**