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Naebody in Particular podcast cover: a collage of old family photographs, handwritten letters, a magnifying glass and a fountain pen

Naebody in Particular

You won't find them on a shortbread tin, but our ancestors live on so long as we keep telling their stories. Scots, Yanks, Canucks and the Auld Enemy. Newest posts are the ancestors, but scroll for the living.

  • miracle baby

    baby sparklet slept until 10am this morning, which isn’t exactly news …

    … except that at 10am we were taxi-ing down the runway on a flight to Austin, Texas.

    that means she slept through (1) getting dressed at 6am, (2) loading the car and unloading at airport parking, (3) boarding and offloading the airport shuttle, (4) being taken out of her car seat and passing through security, (5) preboarding the aircraft, and (6) the aircraft pushing away from the gate.

    actually, it wasn’t until the safety briefing ($@&#% volume-deaf stewardesses) that she finally decided to open her eyes and wonder what the heck was going on.

    speaking of, I wonder if she is going to develop a complex about sleeping … it seems like each time she wakes she has a reasonable chance of being in completely different place than when she went down (museum, park, airplane, etc).

    back to the miracle … due to her sleeping so well we didn’t have to start her feeding until after “wheels up,” which means we sidestepped the whole ear-pain/pressure thing and we’re halfway through the flight with nothing louder than a gurgle.

    in semi-related news, we’re on the way to aunt nadine’s wedding to soon-to-be uncle nadav.

    I started packing sparklet at about 10am yesterday, and by 2pm we were we were running to Target to buy the biggest suitcase they had in stock.

    even so, we still look like we’re on a month-long trek through Nepal, and without the benefit of a legion of Sherpas.

    we’ve got the new suitcase (packed exactly to the 50 lbs. limit), a roll-y bag complete with bridesmaid dress and approximately 237 diapers, a bag full of enough pumping equipment to empty the panama canal, the diaper bad, a car seat and a stroller.

    next time, I’m getting a C-130 cargo plane to “advance” (pre-stage?) our trip.

    now, normally, I’d bring a laptop to blog/upload photos over the weekend … but my back started weeping at the thought of another 15 lbs bag.

    unfortunately, that means I’ll be blogging/uploading baby pics via the iPhone and its 36-dropped-calls-in-one-day, who-cares-about-3g-if-you-can’t-get-reception network brought to you by AT&T.

    I’m not sure I’d expect another update before hell freezes over, or Luke Wilson gets his self-respect back … which ever comes first.

    UPDATE: we landed, in heavy turbulance. still not a peep. it’s hard to refrain from being cocky … but I persevere, mostly so I don’t jinx us for the return.

    See all the Photos on Flickr:
    baby’s first flight

  • out: national aquarium

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    out: national aquarium

  • found: sous-chef sparklet

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  • week sixteen

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    photo of the week // week sixteen

  • faces

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    faces

  • out: national building museum

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    out: national building museum

  • guestbook: skye and mom

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    guestbook

  • guestbook: christy, m.o.h.

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    guestbook

  • man on the street

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    i had a math teacher in middle school who said she hated being fat, because everybody in the supermarket assumed that you were a friendly person who like to be talked to by strangers.

    i think having a baby is the new fat.

    today, in the national american indian museum, a woman alone with five kids (yes, that’s “one-two-three-four-five”) looked at me in exasperation when she noticed sparklet was asleep, and blurted out “well that’s a great way for her to see the museum” while she rolled her eyes.

    yesterday, in the american art museum, two women stopped us in the cafe and asked how sparklet was enjoying the museum. i smiled while i said that she was doing great in the large format landscapes, but seemed to start loosing interest (i.e. fall asleep) once we got into the American portraiture. she scoffed, barked “yeah, right” and then stomped off.

    monday, a random guy on the street — looked like a typical D.C. community activist, business casual, with dreads held up in Jamaican rasta hat — called out to me, saying “great job, father! great job!” while he applauded. fwiw, i was crossing the street … and doing it *exceptionally* well.

    but really, besides the random activist, the only reliably positive people experiences have been security guards and cafeteria workers, especially the ones that are 35+ year old women. they just light up when they see someone alone with a baby, and are elated to have 2 minutes with the sparklet.

    biggest observation so far? don’t talk to white people.

    so far, without exception, white people think your baby is either (a) in direct competition with their kid/grandkid or (b) their question for you is just a thinly-veiled ramp to help them launch into a 10 minute soliloquy about their own.

    either way, from here on out i’m dropping them like their hot.

    P.S. there is an interactive “our universe” exhibit on the fourth floor of the national museum of the american indian, which has a ceiling (see photo above) designed to look like the night sky. it is now officially baby sparklet’s favorite place on the planet.

    See All the Photos on Flickr:
    out: national museum of the american indian, washington, dc

  • out: national cathedral

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    out: national cathedral, washington, dc