"This is considered pathological." (pg 2)

“Europe is infected by a strange lack of desire for the future...Children, our future, are perceived as a threat to the present.” (Pope Benedict, 2006, pg 2)

But don't worry, friends. There's something here for those of you who may be a little less conservative, as well.

"In Scandinavia, thanks in part to state support [day-care, highly-paid, year-long maternity leave, 4000 euro 'birth payment'], the more children a family has, the wealthier it is likely to be, whereas in southern Europe having children is a financial sinkhole, which drags a family toward poverty." (pg 5)

But finally!...

"So there would seem to be two models for achieving higher fertility: the neosocialist Scandinavian system and the laissez-faire American one." (pg 6)

Unfulfilled hopes

Someone we know wants to crawl...

...while someone else we know just wants to dance.

Oh, my sons, the things we want but can't yet have.

It's been a long time

I've been trying to do a bit more reading lately, a habit that has sorely dropped off in the past few months for a variety of reasons. I've found a common theme...

An op-ed piece in the Chicago Reader (a free hometown paper; read it by clicking here) ran a couple weeks ago arguing that Barack Obama is just like all the other Chicago politicians: He's had to kneel at the throne of Daley to get where he is today, whether for good or for ill. The piece mainly speculates on how he might "immunize him[self] from his Chicago past", as Daley is D-I-R-T-Y but (1) closely connected with ol' B.O. and (2) too powerful to disown or denounce. The concluding paragraph cuts right to the point:

"So how should Obama play it when the Republicans launch their attack ads link­ing him to Daley’s Chicago? He should ditch the script that Conley so thoughtfully offered in Salon. He doesn’t need that fan­tasy of civility, consensus, racial harmony, and community empowerment. He can tell it like it is. If anything, Daley taught him to be ruthless, devious, and shrewd. He can say it’s prepared him for cracking down on Iran."

Then I came across this piece in the New York Times, in which David Brooks points out how Obama is just as duplicitous as any other politician, though a heckuvalot smarter. Brooks relates how Obama eschewed public financing for his campaign once he, a Democrat, ended up with a lot more money than the Republicans have, though Obama has been a champion of public financing in the presidential race since at least January of 2007. Brooks refers "Fast Eddie Obama" who made "a cut-throat political calculation seem like Mother Teresa’s final steps to sainthood." Towards the end of the piece, though, Brooks says that maybe we want a cutthroat in the White House: "On the other hand, global affairs ain’t beanbag. If we’re going to have a president who is going to go toe to toe with the likes of Vladimir Putin, maybe it is better that he should have a ruthlessly opportunist Fast Eddie Obama lurking inside."

Politics is dirty. That's it. Anyone who believes that Obama is going to bring "change" to the White House, to "the system," is kidding themselves. One politician is as dirty as the next; some are just better at getting others to believe that they are "different." Chicago's son in this presidential race has had one of the most infamously dirty politicians in recent memory as his 'mentor', who has helped him get where he is today; it's hard for me to believe that Obama can possibly be much different, as he's learned from a master. Will Obama reward Daley? Will he follow the Reader's advice and just admit that Daley taught him to be devious, and then throw Daley under the train? I don't know. Though I am curious. This is political gold, folks.

As I work my way thru a book that I recently picked up, the Obama situation comes to mind. In The Secret of New York Revealed, Thomas Howard speaks of Democratic New Yorkers' thrill in voting for a Republican (no doubt a compassionate conservative!) a few decades ago:

"[John] Lindsay seemed to be the thing we all wanted. He was young, blue eyed, lean and tousle-haired...and he managed to disarm everyone with his candor. He would appear in the streets of Harlem with his shirtsleeves rolled up above his elbows, the idea being, 'We've got tough work to do, right, gang? Never mind about coats and ties and limousines and walnut desks in City Hall, then.'
"New Yorkers believe this sort of thing, and the New York Times more than them all. Pictures were rushed onto the front pages. The word was passed in the chic, rumpled circles of liberal journalism, academia, and proletaria: Lindsay's the man!
"It was all very heady. Doctrinaire Democrats who had never met a Republican found thenselves atingle with the idea of pulling the lever for one of these creatures. What fun! Here, from that sluggish antediluvian jumble of political troglodytes springs Saint George himself! Fancy voting for a Republican!
"Everyone was terribly earnest...Everyone was on the march. It was a crusade. We've got to stand tall, all of us serious, selfless, concerned, good people, and advance. We must pluck down the basilica of power, privilege, and influence; drag the sweating and oleaginous politicians from their swivel chairs; fling open the doors; and let the people in."

Howard could've been describing the messianism that surrounds Obama with these words: just switch the parties around. He then goes on to detail, however, how the city was shut down by the transit workers' ten-day strike. Oops. Politics, I believe, won't change anything. No matter how shiny a candidate looks, it's all on the outside. It's best to look that fact bald in the face, move on with our lives, and let politics be little more than a blip on our personal radars of life. It is not, I argue, one of the Permanent Things. Pull the lever for the lesser of two evils (or don't), and be done with it.

vacay photos

Here are some photos from our time in Pennsylvania, from the Swishers' web-log. I'll post some soon, but I'll just take advantage of Corene's on-top-of-it-iveness for right now. (Three kids!) Thanks, Corene.

We love zoo.

Gangee and Pop-Pop came for a visit, and we took advantage of the nice weather and headed to the Lincoln Park Zoo. Here's Pop-Pop and Jonah taking a look at our "ancestors". (My dad did make that joke to Jonah; I wonder what people in earshot might have thought of that?) I think that Jonah was a little bit intimidated by the size of this guy, despite the fact that Pop-Pop stands well over six feet tall. It must be all the hair. Oh, and the fact that this gorilla weighs 500 pounds. You know.

Manny was a very good little boy, amusing himself for minutes at a time by sitting up in his stroller and looking around, as well by playing with a little zipper pull that dangles from the stroller. Hard work, people.

Manny and Gangee share a moment.
Gangee and Pop-Pop treated Jonah to a ride on the carousel, which he LOVES. We have a photo of a carousel at home, and Jonah stares at it and says, "Carousel. Round and round and round and round." Apparently, he was also captivated by the lights above his head on this ride. There were almost tears when he had to get off. Jonah knows how to have a good time.
This is the result when some crazy parent decides that she wants a picture with her two boys at the end of a long day and insists on holding them herself. It could be worse, I guess.

Little Moo's Weekend in the Big City

This, like other happenings, is now a month old, but web-logging has been rather low on the list of priorities lately, in case you haven't noticed. (Does that qualify as a run-on sentence, or a long, well-constructed one?) Over Memorial Day weekend, Manny and Mama went to Boston to visit Anneke, Laura's good friend from college, and Anneke's husband Steve. Here they are on the historical lawn at the historical North Bridge in historical Concord, Mass, site of one of the first skirmishes of the historical Revolutionary War: Historical! (More about Concord below; don't worry!)

Anneke, Manny and I started the weekend off on Friday with a trip to the aquarium. Bostonians, like us Chicagoans, can enjoy free passes from the library for many public attractions -- huzzah! I'm not entirely sure just what was going on with Manny in this picture. I think that he was just very tired, though it's entirely possible that a shark had just swum by the aquarium window. *Gulp!* Gabe thinks he's holding his breath; maybe Anneke had threatened to dunk him? (Just kidding; all my friends are nice, especially Anneke.)

Anneke was able to wrangle a car seat (and play yard, and booster seat) from some friends of hers, which made traveling much easier for me. Also, the snappy blue denim car seat allowed Manny to look like a baby-model, since blue is totally his color. See how he's smiling with his eyes in this picture? Baby-model, people.

So here we are again, back at the North Bridge, which was our Saturday trip. This guy was a New England blueblood, direct descendant of William Bradshaw (I don't actually know who this was -- came over on the Mayflower? I'm just repeating what he said), former high-ranking Navy officer (it's been a month, folks, memory fails), and Revolutionary War history buff extraordinaire.

We stopped to watch his musket and bayonet (yikes) demonstration, and then he expounded on Revolutionary War history and democratic ideals. This may sound a bit boring, but he was an amazingly captivating and very opinionated speaker, who managed to inspire no small amount of patriotism in this somewhat apathetic heart. He used the word "umbrage", pointed out that the word "unique" does not need and must not have any qualifiers (e.g. "quite unique" is nonsensical -- a grammarian's pet peeve!), showed us the curved sword that one of his ancestors almost certainly stole from a dead Frenchman's body in the French and Indian War, yet somehow was not above using the phrase "iddin' it" (I'm pretty sure that snuck in there, at any rate). In 20 minutes, this guy managed to make it to the top of my "Reasons to Visit the Boston Area" list. My only regret is that I didn't have a photo taken with him.

In Concord, we stopped for coffee. Despite the fact that he couldn't have any, Manny managed to keep up appearances, putting a smile on his face.

This picture is classic Manny. When he's done, he's DONE. Right thumb in mouth, left hand and arm over eyes. "Out, world, out. Baby needs his beauty rest."
When he wasn't confined to the car seat, Manny practiced push-ups in Steve and Anneke's library/TV room on the second floor. Since we have hardwood and Stassons do too on the first floor, the carpet was a real treat for Manny, as he was able to get some traction. (Parenting 101: If you want to delay mobility, place child on slippery surface at all times. It will be AGES before you have to baby-proof.)
Here's Anneke in front of the house that she and Steve bought. It is lovely, lovely, and has a great yard. We planted some flowers on Sunday, which was fun. Note that An is carrying Manny in an REI kiddie-pack. She and Steve evidently registered for this as a joke at their wedding, and someone took them up on it. Anneke insisted that she carry Manny in this on a walk thru a forest preserve by their house, which was our Sunday after-church expedition. Besides the un-fun hassle of getting Manny into the pack and the straps adjusted, he really enjoyed his ride. It was funny to see him being carried by someone else, since he's usually a one-woman (Mama!) kind of guy.

Jonah and Gabe got up bright and early to meet us at the airport when our plane came in at 7:40 a.m. Jonah's excitement at seeing me after being apart for four days, though, only lasted until we passed the construction equipment on the Blue Line tracks. That's my boy.

It was great to be able to go to Boston (by the way, this trip was financed by Laura's birthday and Christmas money, so thanks to all of you who helped out with that!) and see Anneke. The last time I saw her, Jonah was six weeks old, so it was great to be able to visit her after almost two years. She and Steve are wonderful hosts and great cooks, and they doted over my baby a sufficient amount. They are also, in some ways, living the life that I would like to incorporate into my own over the next few years: gardening flowers and food, trying new recipes, composting, and brewing their own beer. Thanks for the grat visit, Stassons! And thanks to Gabe for keeping Mr Poo safe and happy over the course of a long weekend, which made my visit immeasurably better.

How we roll.

We roll with two Poo Babies in a stroller...

...and chocolate on our faces.

Adios, James

Well, we finally had to say "Good-bye" to dear James. But not without a few pictures! (Disclosure: These events all transpired two weeks ago. I've been busy.)

A couple evenings before they left, Katie and James met us at the park for some fun. The boys decided that it would be way more fun to play football on the concrete than play on the much safer rubbery-matted playground. Boys will be boys, I guess.
James celebrates an amazing pass. It's not his fault Jonah didn't catch it!
"Go long, Bia!" (As an aside: How awesome does my son look with his "short pants", jean jacket, and ponytail? He loves this jean jacket.)

James was born to be a footballer. Look at that form! Ball tucked safely in, leaping curbs in a single bound. He'll fit right in with those Texas boys, fer shur.
The day before their departure, Katie threw a going-away party for James. Moms and tots gathered for fun and food on what turned out to be a beautiful day.
Lynn took the time to teach Jonah how to catch. He was into it until he detected the noise of a truck passing on Addison, which is why he's gazing over his left shoulder. Trucks are still more captivating than ball for our little man, though just barely.
Jonah and Josie (to whom we'll have to say good-bye in a month or so!) party with the big red car.
We managed to get all kids seated at the same time and, thanks to Kendra's marvelous rendition of "Baby Beluga" (Jonah's new favorite song, by the way, ever since James gave him a copy of the CD), they even managed to look in the same direction at the same time. It was amazing!

L-R are: Miles; James; Isaac, Jonah; Josie; Maggie & Susanna (sisters).

Jonah was pretty excited about his first cupcake ever, though he ended up only licking the frosting off it rather than actually eating it. I think most of the excitement came from having a portable cake; he held on to it for a good ten minutes, if not more like twenty. And don't worry, folks, he polished off a whole one the next day, and asked for more to boot. (Speaking of "excited", a separate story: Pop-Pop and Gangee visited this weekend. Before they came, Jonah said to me many, many times: "Pop-Pop. Gangee. 'Cited." He truly was. I'm glad that he informed me of it, too, because it was too cute.)
James was kind enough to put together gift bags for his Chicago friends with a few of his favorite things inside. I'm pretty sure that Katie had something to do with helping him with this project, but James wouldn't say. Here's James, handing out the goodies. Jonah continues to clutch his cupcake in his right hand, while reaching for a gift with his left. This boy knows what a party is about.
And here's Jonah, testing the goodies. These glasses were his favorite things out of the bag. This is also one of my favorite pictures of Jonah to date. And there in the back of this picture is Auntie Katie, one of Jonah's favorite people in the world. Thanks for the party, Auntie Katie!
And where was Manny? He enjoyed this party, like so many others, the best way he knew how: by sleeping thru it.
Adios, dear James! We miss you!

Brotherly love

This picture was, I recall, Jonah's idea.

"Hold Baby?"

"Sure, buddy. You can hold Baby."

"Picture?"

Why not?

No batteries required

I'm thrilled -- THRILLED -- that both my sons are so easily entertained: one by measuring, one by being measured. What will they think of next?