Archives for October 2007

Trick or Treat 2007


This year we recycled Emma’s costume from last year and sent her off Trick or Treating with her Mom. We could do this for a couple of reasons. One, because she still fit in the darn thing; and two, because I really don’t think Emma noticed. She’s two people! This was also the first year that Emma actually went door-to-door with the rest of the kids in the neighborhood. Last year we dressed her up and she stayed home with us to hand out candy (because that’s really all a one year old can handle). At two years old, you get to actually go trick-or-treating (to the houses of the five closest neighbors anyway). Our community is still under construction. The homes that have been constructed are spread out enough that visiting five homes was sufficient for a newbie.

This year I got tricked for Halloween and admitted myself to the local Hospital for a baseline colonoscopy (It certainly wasn’t a treat). It’s been something I have been dreading for years now but the timing was appropriate considering my Mother’s untimely death at the age of 51. Perhaps my biggest goal in life is to stay alive as long as I can for Emma. Losing my own Mother at such an early age has always made me feel rather jipped. Clearly it wasn’t my Mother’s fault, these things happen you know. But since she died of colon cancer, there is always the chance for a genetic link. We know today that colon cancer is one of the easiest forms of cancer to treat if caught early through routine screening. A baseline test for everyone should occur at age 50. In the case where one of your parents were afflicted by the disease the recommendation is that you are screened 10 years prior to your parents original diagnosis. Since I don’t know when that was (because details about my mother are hard to come by) I had to use fuzzy logic and take an educated guess to determine when my baseline should be taken. In short, I chose the ripe old age of 38. Better to be safe than sorry.

I was really nervous about the whole project (being a guy and all and somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of being violated in such an emasculating way) but I believe after watching everything Elena went through prior to and during our pregnancy, and focusing on the why it was necessary that I do this, I cowboyed-up, Brokeback-style and submitted to the test.

Everything I had ever heard about the procedure suggested that the prep-work the night before was the worse part. After having gone through it I suppose I would have to agree. It wasn’t awful, but it was also not desirable. I would say the worst part for me was the fasting. I hate to be hungry.

As far as the procedure is concerned, they narc you up with a cocktail of drugs that put you in a state referred to as “conscious sedation”. The idea is that you are sedated and numb to the procedure, but awake and responsive to any and all instructions. I had never been anesthetized before so this was an interesting experience for me. After having gone through it and comparing notes with Elena after the procedure, with regard to what transpired and what I remember transpiring, I have to say that I was on some trip. Essentially what happens is that they drug you up and you retain your complete personality, you might even feel pain and complain, carry on conversations, etc. but the combination of drugs does not let you remember a thing. I imagine they use the same stuff as truth serum for interrogation purposes. Apparently I spent an hour in recovery asking all sorts of poignant questions to the Dr. and nurses that came by. My questions were so good, Elena said, that she didn’t realize that I was mentally out of it and flying on autopilot the whole time. Scary stuff.

Anyway, the worst is behind me (no pun intended) and on Wednesday I visit with the Dr. to get the results of my lab work (They snipped out a single lonely polyp). Hopefully all is well and my mission will be accomplished for now.

Happy Birthday!!!


Today we celebrated Emma’s second birthday. She received a lot of wonderful gifts and phone calls from friends and family as well as a visit from her Abuelo and Abuela. The day was all about Emma. We played, we sang, we laughed, and played some more. Emma really enjoyed herself and Elena and I reflected upon how quickly the time has gone and how blessed we are to have Emma in our lives.

I Think It’s Going To Rain


It’s been quite the dry season this summer. But Emma always finds time to pose for the camera, especially when it is with her new umbrella.”Is that a cloud I see over there? How ’bout back there? No worries, I’m ready for anything!” -Emma

Family Visit


Last weekend we had our first guests from out of town. Emma’s Godmother Ceci, Great Aunt Araceli, and Great Grandmother Sarita flew in from Florida to stay with us for the weekend. They had wanted to come for Emma’s Birthday but this was the best time they could all make it. Emma was really excited and had fun playing with them. We went to the farmer’s market and checked out the local produce. It was a fun relaxing time for all and we were very pleased and honored that they made the trip out here to visit. We hope to see them all again soon.


Duck! Duck! Those were the words Emma tearfully exclaimed as she looked up at me in a panic. Although I didn’t know what she was talking about it was clear she was in trouble. From what, I could only imagine. You see, it was 8:20 PM. Emma was nestled by my side for the last 15 minutes as she always is when I put her to sleep. I was watching TV, and Emma was drinking the six ounces of soy Milk that she always does at bedtime. I remember peering down at her just a few minutes prior to note her progress. Her finger twirled soothingly in her hair and her bottle dipped and quickly recovered rhythmically as she slowly drifted in and out of consciousness. She was right on schedule and boarding the train to la-la land when her urgent call for “Duck!” rang out. Confused, I looked her up and down and asked her what was wrong. “Duck!” she replied, her eyes welling up with tears. Given that nothing could have entered the room to harm her, certainly not while her Daddy was there protecting her, I realized that this “Duck” that she spoke of was not a duck at all, but rather her attempt at the word, “stuck”. I quickly rationalized that she was stuck, but stuck on what! It just didn’t compute. I scanned her up and down again and the only thing that made sense was her hand which was still holding on to her hair. I attempted to pull it away from her head just to confirm that that was not what she was referring to and sure enough, it was stuck.

A closer inspection revealed that her index finger, whose gentle swirling motion has served her well these past 23 months, was tangled in a lock of hair. I apologized to Emma for not understanding her initially and then proceeded to liberate her index finger. But I couldn’t. Her hair was tightly wound and constricting it. I picked her up and carried her out of the dark bedroom so I could see what I was doing. It was there, in the light of the hallway that I realized that her finger was not only caught pretty bad, but her finger tip had turned purple. Not knowing how many minutes her digit had been held in a strangle-hold by her hair, I called Elena in as calm as a voice as I could. Elena responded quickly and ran upstairs. A little nervous, I stammered and studdered a description of the problem. After a couple failed attempts to remove Emma’s finger we ran to the office and Elena picked up a pair of scissors. Concerned with the discoloration in Emma’s finger tip, Elena was prepared to vanquish the lock of hair by any and all means necessary. As Elena held the scissor against the uncooperative lock and prepared to seal its fate, the hair reconsidered and released its grasp on Emma, sparing itself from a horrific end.

After a bit of massaging, the color of Emma’s finger returned to normal. Back in bed I rubbed Emma’s back to sooth her from the adrenaline rush she was on. As I did she would periodically lift her head, look me in the eye and blurt out words like, “Duck!”, “Air!”, “Daddy!”, “Mommy!”, “Cut!”. Which pretty much summarized the nights events.