Christmas Morning at the Beach

You rose early on Christmas morning, as you do nearly every morning. You had had a rough night after the evening's feastings and festivities, so I slipped you and Bella away downstairs to let your mom get some rest. At first, we three lounged around contentedly watching the morning light pour slowly through the windows, but after a while I became ancy and you began to fuss, so we three journeyed out for a car ride to Marconi Beach in Wellfleet. It's a fierce and dramatic place, with sand dune cliffs and only minimalist, scarred looking plants. Even the grass looks haggard. We three were there alone, free to drink in the vast, stark beauty by ourselves.

By the time we arrived, the sun was high up and it was warm for so late in the year, so I slipped off my shoes and we drifted down the cliffs to the beach where you and I alighted on a polished, fire-branded log. While we sat, Bella strolled casually down to test the frigid ocean waters, but soon circled back to rejoin her pack. After deep-breathing the ocean air for a few minutes, I pulled out a bottle to feed you and pondered what you might be thinking as you took in the sound of crashing waves and the fresh, salty smells of the ocean for the first time.

My first recollection of the ocean was from a family vacation when I was around 11 or so. My parents, brothers and I had travelled north and west many miles from Salt Lake City in our silver Suburban to visit cousins in Seattle. I vividly remember choking at the fishy smells of the ocean as we first peered out at the Puget Sound and later visited the Ballard Locks. We later rode ferries across the waters, navigating the many islands of the Sound as we motored north to Victoria, B.C. After a few days in Seattle, we then spent a week or so driving south down the Washington, Oregon, and California coasts, stopping at whatever peeked my parents' interests. I recall white sand beaches, black pebble beaches, lighthouses, and awesome natural wonders like Crater Lake and the Redwoods. It was an amazing trip, one that certainly whetted my appetite for travel and seeded my deep-rooted love of coastal living.

And so, many years later I found myself sitting with my freshly minted son amidst otherworldly beauty on Christmas morning, recalling this whirlwind trip of my youth as I once again breathed in that pungent ocen scent. Bella, you and I, spent a pleasant hour or so there on that Cape Cod beach basking in the lazy winter sun before finally heading home to Christmas morning, to the smell of your Aunt Stephanie's waffles, and to your mom's waiting arms.

I've Been Watching You

Dear Mom & Dad,

I've been watching lately. At first I only listened, but now I watch, too. I see the city lights streaming in our windows in the wee hours of the morning while I feed. I look for the brightening of the bedroom we all share, and shriek as the sun lifts the veil of darkness. I am also bedazzled by the oranges, reds, and purples that skate across our ceiling as the sun fades away west across the Hudson come early evening.

I am enamored of the striped marimekko shirts mom wears and of the razzle-dazzle of the festive lights that currently set our tree aglow at night. I'm entranced by our french chandelier, by the paintings that bedeck our walls, and by the playfully colorful books so many have given me as gifts. I delight at the crazy twists and wiggles that Bella makes whenever anyone she knows stops by for a visit. But mostly I like to study your faces wherein I see myself reflected back, and in which I seek my daily nourishment, encouragement, and comfort.

Olie

Favorite Family Photos

And Favorite New Olie Pitcs...

A Visit From Grampa Fish

We had a nice visit with Charlie (Grampa Fish) the weekend before last. Took a lovely walk in the snow. Cousin Daniel stopped by as well.

Oliphant

Apparently size consciousness begins nearly at birth. At just under six weeks old, Oliver already weighs well over 12lbs. Let’s just say he hasn’t had any consumption issues, nor has his mother had any production issues. Shipping direct to customer applying just-in-time delivery appears to be working well for this product.

He’s not chubbier than other babies, just big. And I mean BIG. We’re becoming self-conscious as he’s already wearing clothes that advertise themselves as 6 months and up. I reiterate…he’s just shy of six weeks today. However, I’m certain the problem lies in false advertising. Or, rather, it is an example of the cross-Atlantic cultural divide. We live in New York, a town heavily influenced by euro style (homeland of the metrosexual, afterall) and thus many of Oliver’s clothes are from the old world.

Also, orange is favored by both parents. But American baby boy clothes primarily come in pastel blues and greens, patterned with cartoonish depictions of trucks and miscellaneous sports paraphernalia. Conversely, Europeans, Italians in particular, appear to share our affinity for orange and shy away from the early advertising campaigns on their babies’ clothes. Further, while it is common knowledge that we Americans tend to be bigger than Europeans (Scandanavian cousins aside) and this plus-sized status is typically attributed to good old-fashioned American overeating, evidently the size issue is there even from an early age. So, our little Oliphant, our Baby Huie wears lots of burnt orange clothes meant for 6 month old European babies, but oh boyo does he look stylishly cute therein...

Utah

You were almost named Utah instead of Oliver. I liked the name as it harkens back to my rearing in Holladay, Utah on the steep slopes of Mt. Olympus where the scrub oak hillsides burn orange and coal red each autumn, then blanket white once wintry glaciers conquer. Utah. Utah Updyke. It looks good in print, in my opinion. The name would have been a nod to your dad and the now distant wide-open land from which I come, far away from the East, from this bustling Isle of Manhattan. I felt, perhaps, with such a name you would become a great storyteller, a spinner of webs, thrilling listeners as you followed in the footsteps of Utah Phillips. But others felt the name couldn’t be pulled off, that “Utah” and the double U.U. initials were just way too celebrity.

I still like Utah as a name, but I love the name we eventually chose for you as well. Oliver Updyke. Oliver. A Latin name (or possibly old Norse) meaning olive tree and signifying kindness, beauty, dignity and peace. The name brings to mind the olive branch, a symbol of peace which feels right during these difficult times where our country wars with others on so many fronts. We humans (men in particular) throw down our gloves too readily and war and destruction are all too common in this world where reason, respect, and compassion should rule. We appear to have the capacity to rise above ourselves to greatness, but we struggle and too often fail.

So, Oliver, you have a dignified name, a respectful name and I find myself wondering again what paths lay before you. Who can tell what you’ll become, whether fate lends a guiding hand or if free will rules the roost for you. At this early stage, all the world is at your doorstep and your mom and I will do our best to aid you and prepare you for your many great adventures ahead. There is great beauty in the world, too, and inevitably you will find your places, your moments where you feel your being rise and soar with a joy and awe so great you’ll feel you’re going to burst. I was soaring at your birth and even still last night as you lay with your head resting on my arm. There will certainly be hard times, too, but hopefully your mom and I can guide you as you grow, and teach you how to be open to embracing just how thrilling Being can be.

Love, Dad

Happy Birthday Oliver - 1 month old!

Today Oliver is 1 month old and thriving. At the pediatrician's checkup today he weighed 11 lbs. 10 ounces! That's 95 percentile.

He has also started following objects that pass his field of vision and will return a smile when you grin at him!!!

Took a walk in his first snow storm this weekend. (To be honest, I think Bella was more impressed and had more fun with it, but give Olie time and he'll be bombing down the hill in his sled.) And we got our first family tree, which Olie helped me decorate.

Mom's photo journal - First 3 weeks

Holiday Greetings

Oliver

With Thanksgiving and the advent of the Holiday Season my thoughts
always turn to family and friends.
Your recent arrival adds a layer of beauty this Holiday Season that we
all can share in.
Reading the postings, and viewing the pictures in the blog, has become
one of the things I look forward to, and greatly enjoy.
I hope it continues well into the future, as it appears to be one of
the positive aspects of my evolving lifestyle.

On a more personal note, let me be one of the first to congratulate
you on the great job you are doing!
From the looks on the faces of the people in the pictures, the tone of
the letters, notes and comments on the blog, and last but not least
the conversations with the people that physically been been with
you,it's apparent that you have stepped up and are standing tall.
(figuratively. if not literally)
You have started one facet of your life's work by showing all of us,
especially your Mom & Dad, how to look deep inside ourselves and find
places to go and depths to plumb that until now we hadn't even
noticed, let alone attempted to try.
Listening to your uncle Chris, uncle Cory & aunt Michele talk about
their time with you and hearing the emotions so obvious in everything
they say. shows what a huge impact your tiny presence is making.
Just like your father, your entrance into my life has created a splash
that the ripples of will continue throughout the future. I am so
looking forward to my first meeting with you. Until then, ask your Mom
& Dad to occasionally give you a hug from me and KEEP UP THE GOOD
WORK.
Once more, congratulations on a great start.

Love, Kisses & Hugs,
Grandpa Updyke