Happy Birthday, Max!

Firstly, dear readers, I'd like to apologize for the absence of posts in the last few months. Sometimes, things just get busy. We've been fortunate enough to enjoy visits from family, and I've been working on a book, and we've been raising Max, and the blog took a back seat. But no longer! We're back and eager to start posting again. Buckle in.

And we have good reason to start again. Max turned one last week -- this year, at exactly 12:15am on December 20th, Emeline and I were fast asleep in bed, snoring like hobos in warm dumpsters. This is because raising a one-year-old human is tiring. But a year earlier our lives changed forever -- and for better -- at 12:15am, in the early hours of an otherwise normal Saturday morning, when we welcomed our beautiful little monster into our world.

So, this was an auspicious day. Emeline baked a cake -- a big, iced chocolate cake -- and we had a quiet little dinner with our favorite small human. The next day, we invited some friends over too, so they could celebrate Max with us, which meant more cake. The photos below are from our little Kemp dinner, with Max first tentatively exploring the cake, wondering why we lit it on fire, and then soon realizing everything was fine and it wouldn't hurt a bit to smear the icing over his face and hair and neck and clothes and high chair and parents.

We'd just like to say: Happy Birthday, Max. We love you!

Photos of Christmas to follow soon.

Father's Day

Last weekend, we headed out to the beach to celebrate New Zealand Father's Day. This was an inaugural event! Not to be missed. Max had no idea what was going on, but we went to Kentucky Fried Chicken and got a bagful of fried chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy and headed to Tomahawk Beach.

Max enjoyed the beach and we enjoyed the fried chicken. Little Max is a little over 8-months-old now. He's getting mobile, crawling a little bit more every day. He's speaking more too and, last Sunday particularly, graced me with plenty of "Da-da-dad-dad," which we've convinced ourselves is his version of, "Dad."

I captured both our favorite and least favorite part of the day on video. This is Max deciding to test whether Tomahawk Beach tastes as nice as our fried chicken.

Resemblance?

Me, on the right, with my sister Deb and my twin brother Stuart, circa 1974.

Max, a few weeks ago. The poor little man looks like his dad a bit.

Perfect Day

Last Sunday was a perfect day. So were the few that preceded it. We got up when Max got us up; we went to the swimming pool nice and early as the sun came up over the harbor; and then we went to Capers, one of our favorite breakfast spots, for a proper breakfast. Perfect. And then home for a nap. I can't think of a better way of spending a Sunday. We only have another four days before we can do it all over again.

I Can See A Rainbow

A couple of mornings ago, we woke up to the strangest sky. It was as if it was lit by an artificial light -- cloudy and sunny at the same time. New Zealand skies always seem to produce some truly magnificent rainbows and not long afterward we saw a huge, complete uninterrupted rainbow stretching from one side of the valley to the other, arcing across the sky and ending somewhere over the ocean, out of our sight. Max was not as impressed as we were. He assumes, I think, that if he sees something once he'll have lots of chances to see it again. Seven-month-olds! We tried to convince him that this isn't something you get to see every day. He was interested mostly in other things. He has a toy moose with chewable ears. He's chewing on it as I type this. Rainbows are less interesting than chewable moooses. Emeline, on the other hand, had to be restrained from driving to the little white house on the other side of the hill and demanding to see the pots of gold.

Maori Week Continued: Fish and Fishing

In a previous blog entry, I told the Maori story of New Zealand and how the north and south islands were named. Here is an abridged version of the story, along with a word lesson, prepared by Te Tumu - School of Maori, Pacific and Indigenous Studies for Maori Language Week 2009 at the University of Otago:

ika = (noun) meaning fish
Pronunciation: i = as in "see"; ka = as in "cut"

hi = (verb) meaning to fish
Pronunciation: i = as in "heed"

Combined, hi ika means "to fish for fish".

Maori Language Week (July 27-31)

To all of our non-Kiwi readers: Did you know that New Zealand has 3 official languages? Besides English and Sign language, Maori is the third official language of New Zealand.

This week is Maori Language Week in New Zealand. The country takes one week out of the year to reflect upon the importance of the Maori language and reminds those living here to become familiar with Te Reo Maori, if we don't already speak it. This week, I will post some Maori words and phrases for you to learn along with us.

-o-

To be honest with you, I was completely unaware of the Maori - the native people of New Zealand and the language - when we first moved here. And I consider myself a knowledgeable person. But I never learned about New Zealand in school, except for where it is located. So since moving to New Zealand, I have been curious and amazed by the Maori language and the fact that it permeates quite a bit of every day life here in New Zealand.

If you take the time to look at a map of New Zealand, you'll notice that a few of the cities throughout the country are in Maori: Whangarei, Kaitaia, Taranaki, Moeraki, just to name a few. But most cities have both an English name and a Maori name. For example, we live in Dunedin (Maori name = Otepoti). Other examples: Wellington (the capital city) = Te Whanganui a Tara; Auckland = Tamaki Makaurau; Christchurch = Otautahi.

This week on Sunrise (our favorite television morning news program), the weatherman Josh gives us the weather on a map with the Maori city placenames. On Monday, I missed the weather in Dunedin because I forgot that its Maori name is Otepoti. I wonder if this happened to a lot of other people in Dunedin, including the locals? (ETK)

New Sunday Routine

Everyone who has had a baby or has a baby knows that routines are important.

Over the past month of so, we have developed a new Sunday morning routine. Before Max, the weekends used to be filled with lazy mornings reading in bed, drinking coffee and then heading off to the Farmer's market or the beach. And while we still drink coffee and go to the market, only now it's with Max. So, as a new family we've developed a brand new morning routine on Sundays: Yum Cha.

Yum Cha ("drinking tea") is the Cantonese ritual referring to the actual event of gathering with family and friends for dim sum. Dim sum ("a bit of heart") is the name of the cuisine served at Yum Cha consisting of a wide range of small dishes (steamed pork buns, sweet and sour wontons, Chinese sausage with rice, Egg Tarts, Chinese pork triangles) served with Chinese tea.

Sunday mornings, rain or shine, we all gather into the car and drive into town anticipating the delicious dim sum at Golden Harvest Chinese restaurant. It's sort of hidden, Golden Harvest, tucked into an almost secret walkway amongst all of the clothing and tat shops on George Street. We happened upon it one day while going for a walk with Max in the pram.

Most mornings we're the first people to arrive. As the morning progresses, the restaurant fills mostly with Asian families and students. The waitresses know that we're regulars. One even mentioned to Chris, "You must really like Yum Cha. You're here every week."

No kidding.

It's part of our routine. (ETK)

Selves-portrait: Me and Max at Golden Harvest

Max and Chris eating dim sum. Notice all of the toys to keep Max occupied.

Spicy Szechuan Soup - And they're not kidding ... check out all the dried red chilies!

Spicy!

Enjoying our Sunday.

Funny Faces

Just the other day, Max started making funny faces. To be more accurate, Max started making new funny faces. He's always made funny faces, but these are particularly enjoyable. We're not sure if he's exploring his mouth, playing with his lips, trying to soothe sore gums, or just goofing around.

Ferberization

What a busy month. You'll have noticed the absence of regular posts. Most of you will have stopped even checking the blog. Yeah, well. We're back. We took a break -- or at least, I took a break -- mostly because of the gathering exhaustion that looking after a small baby seems to generate.

Max never slept. Friends sent us the cute obligatory photos of their babies, sleeping in the bath, or in a pile of fresh laundry, or in a high chair in the middle of eating. It never happened with Max. Never. Never happened. He was like a ninja: always alert, always ready to pounce. And we indulged him. At night we rocked him to sleep and held him in our arms. If he woke up, we would run to calm him. He ruled the house, like a tiny bad-tempered emperor who should not be disobeyed. His rule was bloody, that's for sure.

Finally, and fortunately, things devolved enough that we were sleeping two hours a night. Max was sick and couldn't breathe well and he'd wake up if we even stopped rocking him for a moment. Something had to be done. So last week we sleep-trained him. We used the Ferber technique, which is well-described all over the place but email me if you want information. For a first-time parent, it's a huge deal: the guilt, the crying, the urge to pick him up, the hope that it works. A misinformed friend told me it was torture. We did it anyway. Within three nights Max was sleeping for hours at a time in his own cot. On the fourth night he slept for eleven hours without making any noise. We have a new baby.

Thank you, Dr Ferber. If I could, I think I would kiss you.

A Poetic Weekend

A weekly visit to the sea
Hunting for treasure on the seashore.

It's cold and I see my breath.
The sea air is invigorating.

Sparing a few seconds to pose for a photo or two.

The Story of New Zealand

One of the latest news stories in New Zealand is the debate to officially name the North and South islands of New Zealand. Apparently, these names aren't geographically official, so it's been suggested that the islands be named with their Maori names -

North Island : Te Ika-a-Maui (meaning the fish of Maui)
South Island: Te Wai Pounamu (meaning the canoe of Maui)

Here is the beautiful traditional Maori story of how New Zealand was created and the origin of these names:

Once upon a time there was a Maori god named Maui who was the youngest of 5 children in his family. Maui's 4 older brothers didn't like him very much and often left him out when they played. Maui, however, was very creative and imaginative on his own doing things like taming the sun and capturing fire. One day the 4 older brothers decided to go fishing, of course without Maui. But Maui was clever and snuck onto the canoe, Te Wai Pounamu (the canoe of Maui - the South Island), and hid there. To show his brothers that he indeed was able to fish well, Maui attempted to catch a fish and ended up catching the biggest one of all, Te Ika-a-Maui, the fish of Maui (the North Island).

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrr

It's autumn now, and the trees are bare for another year. And it's cold outside too. Frost on the ground, and snow in the forecast. It's our second May here but it still seems strange. Dad had to buy some new slippers! I got a new hat. I like it when it's cold because it means I can stay inside, and bounce in my Jolly Jumper, and read with Mom, and compare slippers with Dad.

Central

Last weekend, we loaded our little nuclear family into our car and drove three hours west, into the dry scrub and the mountains and valleys of Central Otago. Wine and fruit country. Last year, before Max was even much of an idea, we went to Queenstown and, on the way we stumbled on the Clyde Wine and Food Festival. You get your own wine glass as you enter and you make your way around the stalls, tasting wine after wine until they all start to taste similar but you don't care because you're happy.

This year we thought we'd take Max along too. We stayed in a hotel for the first time with him ... I think he slept better than he does at home. We had a great time -- tasted a lot of wine and bought apples, pears, quinces, and dried fruit to bring home -- and we can't wait to get out there again.

Here are some photos from the trip. My favorite is the one of Max and Emeline by a statue in Lawrence, on the way. We really just stopped to use the public bathrooms and this statue was outside. We now know Max really likes statues.

Our Littlest World Traveler

Skilled migrant. Work to residence. FBI fingerprints. Criminal record. Permanent resident.

We've been plowing through applications to become Permanent Residents of New Zealand. This means that we'll be able to have access to the national health care, subsidies (like child care subsidies) and be able to apply for credit cards and financing. We'll also be able to travel in and out of New Zealand as we please, without visas, as long as we live.

We thought of applying almost a year ago, but the application fee was a little too steep for us. Now that we've decided to take the leap, we have another little member of our family to add to the application. But we need a few things for Max in order to apply. One being a passport.

We're world travelers, me and Chris, and so why shouldn't Max? I've tried to take a passport photo of him, but he's not very good at staying still for the photo. You can tell me which one you like the best:

Some Recent Photos