From the Writings of Jane Goodall

Saturday Feb 3rd 2012, it is sunny today, I am tired from a difficult night. 

Before he leaves for the forest, my partner lays a fine layer of Kix in the clearing of the jungle floor to occupy the baby gorillas til I wake. I soon wake and, putting on my slippers, take leave of my tent. I grab my notebook for further observations and head to the jungle clearing where the 3 baby gorillas are gathered. The baby gorillas are finishing their paltry offerings and are excited to see me. I bring bananas. I sit on the jungle floor with the natives crawling all around me, giving them banana offerings out of my hand. The smallest gorilla will feed from my hand. The older ones will only take with raking grasps or pincher fingers to put to lips.

It seems Jane and I have much in common

Soon the natives grow weary of the feeding game and come ever so close. One of the big ones, we named him James, even becomes so brazen as to crawl right on top of me in search of more banana, I smell his fetid, stinking pee from the night before, he is soaked through and needs to be hosed down---- he finds the peel and begins in on it. The other two see that the big one has found a chewy treat and begin their strategic assault. Legs over legs they pummel each other for the prize. In the end they all end up with a piece of banana peel to chew and are perfectly content, until I remove the offering. I am repulsed by their desire to chew a starchy, sour and flavorless peel. They are angry with me. The little one turns his back to me. I begin to change them and prepare them for the day. An even bigger gorilla (female-Hazel) comes to me, hunger in her eyes, they seem to say, where is breakfast? What did you make me? The big female distracts the angry little gorilla while I change the others and then turn my efforts to reclaiming the tiny gorillas lost love.

I take the gorillas into my lab, strapping them into small chairs with trays and begin preparing toast and jam in tiny unchokeable pieces. The babies are quick to consume the little jams and soon sticky faces and fingers glare at me. The older female gorillas take their food wearily as the jam is a new kind they have never tried, marmalade and are not sure if they like the looks of it. I decide it is time for the 3 little gorillas to try drinking from an open cup. I fill a cup with water and each has a turn sipping, gulping, spilling, choking. The littlest the youngest one is the best at it. He gets it right away. The older male is too eager and chokes. The small female is too happy and just smiles up at me. (Hard to drink while you are smiling up at someone.)

I unstrap the baby gorillas one at a time and bring them to the sink to wash hands and faces. Eager hands reach for a stream of water as I wash them at the sink, tiny tongues lap out as I bring water to face for the wash. I set each gorilla to ground and pull out the next one. They each chimp away, like wind up toys eager to see the world. (And eat any small leavings by the big female gorillas, pieces of tape, stickers, etc... Oh how will I keep these alive?)

Trays come off and are washed. Bibs set aside for next time, crumbs wiped off chairs.

Such is life in the jungle.

P.S. I read this to my sweet husband before I posted it. I didn't preface it, I just started reading  (I also hadn't added any of the gorillas names yet.) His eyes got big as saucers. "Honey! That is just like our life!!" I knew N8 was a little gullible but I think he reached a new and horridly exploitable level of vulnerability- if he thought this was real...by jove, IT'S ON. I love you Nathan.

While our heroine "Jane" bravely examines a baby gorilla for the emergence of teeth, the gorilla is intent on dentistry of his own

Family Update

Hazel is 4 and CC turns 4 on St Patrick's day.

Hazel and CC have joined a dance school. Ballet to be exact. I must remember to practice with them through the week. Poor Miss Amber. If I don't practice with the girls they will have forgotten it all by the next class and have to relearn it. When we pull up for dance in the limo, the other parents in their SUVs and vans stare me down, 'Is she for real?'. Totally.

Babies are 10 months

Quinn is ever the apple of Nathans eye. She is so lovely and delightful. If I finger swipe her once a day, I finger swipe her a thousand times. Let me tell you, there is true technique that goes into finger swiping a kid with seven little chompers. She is quite the vacuum, army crawling along- testing out carpet strands, dirt, bits of paper and strawberry shortcake toy shoes. Sometimes she gets lucky on a piece of dropped fruit or cookie, or a nice bit of salty cracker, she never stops trying. It is getting so bad that I no longer find it necessary to finger swipe for the following- paper, old food and wipes (she attacks the container), or carpet fibers as they come out... umm, whole. But I am a good mom, I still finger swipe for crayons even though they are non-toxic, oh and anything glass, plastic or metal.

James the toupee, loves the bathroom, we try to keep the door shut but sometimes forget as we are just learning to arm ourselves against the little crawlers. I found James behind the toilet the other day licking the plunger. (Why is it that moms want to divulge these gross details, maybe we are seeking acceptance, or help, please tell me your kid is just as gross.) At any rate he loves the bathroom. As soon as they are changed for the day, it is as though they look back to me and say, 'see ya mom, we are out of here' they hit the door and disappear for Baby Mecca (Hazel and CCs room).
They other day I saw James and Quinn pushing a ball, then crawling after it.  One would get it and fumble it, then they would both go for it!

Wilson took his first attempts at baby freedom today as he crawled in his room, but hasn't made it out the door yet. Do you know about how much anxiety I feel with 3 babies making off for parts unknown as soon as the day breaks? Wilson is delicious and sweet as candy. He is my lil' buddy, well they all are. Man, I feel so much joy with all these babies, I feel crazy happy more than ever in my life.

I usually try to keep track of babies and locations, but I sure wish I could get them to answer back when I call. James, where are you? Over here, behind the toilet mom! Quinny, where are you? In Hazel and CCs room eating shoes! Wilson, where are you? In my room, where you left me, where everyone leaves me! Sorry buddy, you just need to learn to crawl, I can't do it for you.

Shots

N8 is a sucker for cute girls, his girls.

As soon as I open the front door everyone is on the move, see you mom, we are gonna try our hand at scraping our noses and bumping down all the outside stairs!

Mommys little helper: I bought noise canceling earphones for when I am so frazzled and I can't catch a break. What did you say Hazel? I can't hear you

James the toupee

What? Are they fighting already? James crawled up on Wils chair to steal his toy and poke him in the eye. This is pre-eye poke.

Sunday Sallys

I couldn't resist the chance to dress the girls alike before they realize how totally uncool (and cute) it is... my mom did it to me, but she sewed our dresses. Unlike my mother and mother in law I do not have a special affection for the sewing machine. Although I can, I have to be pretty desperate before I resort to sewing machines, glue ( I know!), hand-stitching, iron on patches- yes, I am ridiculous.

Unabashed Teething

After living through James getting his big teeth this week (that makes four for him), and Quinn with her seven, I feel I have little hair left to pull, maybe I will start on my eyelashes.

By the time Wilson starts giving me the business about teething, I fear my response will be as compassionate as..."it's your problem not mine kid, you're going back to bed."

The Vacuum

Do you know the joy of watching a baby discover something new? Such was my joy today as I vacuumed in the triplets room.  All three of them were alert, curious and cautious as little animals. Wanting to get closer, yet concerned, I watched their little heads follow back and forth. I have many wonderful moments in a day, but I didn't want that moment to end. It was so sweet and full of innocence.

Is This a Shared Nervous Tick?

Best pic of it I had SSG. Sorry So Grainy.

When Nathan and I were newly married he had a gnarly ol' thumbnail that I thought was some kind of fungus. He swore it wasn't a fungus but that he got it in Argentina mixing chemicals (on his mission). It was discolored and cracked from cuticle to tip. The thumbnail was wavy, discolored and thick. He hated cutting it so it would grow long and beastly.

It kept getting worse, it looked like someone had taken a hammer to his finger. I asked him to see a doctor about it and after 10 years, yes, you read right, 10 years of digging in his heels, we got him to a doctor.

In his own words here is what happened:

"It was a three month wait for the dermatologist so I figured he was a good one. My appointment was on a Saturday morning and his office was packed. I sat for a good 20 minutes in a big private room, staring out the window at the mountains, trying to avoid eye contact with the picture of someone's diseased scalp that hung on the wall.

When he came in the room he pulled a stool over and sat down right in front of me, "so why are we seeing you today?"

I showed him both thumbs and explained that they had been that way for ever since I mixed a bunch of cleansers together to scrub my apartment as a missionary in Argentina. He took my hands, looked closely at my thumbs, and stated very matter-of-fact, "You've got a nervous tick."

Becoming defensive, I shot back, "No I don't."

Part of me wasn't exactly sure what he meant, but I know I didn't want to be accused of perpetuating my own problem, and I wasn't about to pay for ten seconds of analysis after waiting so many weeks. At least run some tests or prescribe an ointment or something.

He sensed my frustration because he excused himself and came back a minute later with a photo album filed with people who had fingernails that looked exactly like mine. A groove warn in the nail with a pink irritation color at the cuticle. As he showed me the photos he eliminated a number of possible causes based on the symptoms I exhibited. He told me that the only thing that could cause my nail to look like it did was for me to be continually rubbing it against something, an  action that was probably so minute  that I didn't even notice. He said it would be like any nervous habit. He told me that if I paid close attention to what I was doing, and stopped the action, my nail would heal itself in about 6-7 months, although the groove may persist a little longer.

I left frustrated, no prescription, no return appointment, just deposited a few fingernail shavings for him to test in case there was a real problem. As I'm driving home, thinking about random stuff, I realize that I've got my hand on the stick shift and my index finger is playing my thumb like a violin. It hit me that the action was something I was used to and obviously in my muscle memory. It felt comfortable.

Since that day I've had to make a conscious effort to stop rubbing my nail. It is not all the way gone, and I still have the nervous tick, but my nail looks much healthier. I still can't believe that doctor was right."

Here is what I want you to see, look at the babies hands. Quinn, on the right has her hands splayed open, fingers pointing up. James in the middle and Wilson on the left. The boys are rubbing their thumbs in the same why Nathan does... err did.

It has been about a year. His thumbnail although not all the way cured has vastly improved, still wavy but getting to be normal and the crack is gone. He said he never realized how often he ticked in his nervous way, he realized he would do it while he was working with people at the front counter of his work, walking home, just thinking, hands in pockets softly rubbing just under his thumbnail with this index finger. Who would have thought that simple gesture would wreak such an extremity on one's extremity.