Travels to the Emerald Isle

We just returned from a week-long trip to Ireland and England. We had a great time - although traveling with a toddler is not as easy as it might sound. Elliot was on great behavior - but the nature of toddler behavior is such that it kept us on our toes constantly. Running here to keep from falling off a cliff, or there to keep him from running onto the tarmac at Heathrow. So, we've resolved ourselves to the hard cold truth that vacationing will not be relaxing for some time to come. All that said, I wouldn't give it up. Seeing the world through Elliot's eyes is a travel experience far better than any bus tour or cruise line could offer.

So, here's the long and the short of it. We flew from Boston on an overnight flight to Shannon, Ireland. I need to say just a few words about that unfortunate flight. We flew Aer Lingus. The flight left at 7:15 PM EDT and was scheduled to land in Shannon at 6:00 AM GDT. OK fine. We assumed that the Irish would know how to take care of us. In some respects they did. But in other, more important respects, they didn't. The flight was akin to baby torture. They kept the lights on through bar service (no free Guinness as one would expect), dinner, and then an agonizingly long duty free process. By the time they turned out the lights it was something like 11pm, with only two hours left of the flight. Elliot (and all the other babies on the flight) screamed for hours, as if begging them to have mercy on them and turn off the lights. Before 11pm rolled around, even the adults on the plane were crying. Here's a word of advice for you Aer Lingus, turn off the lights and let the poor babies sleep. People want sleep more than food on an overnight flight.

OK, so enough of that. We arrived safely in Shannon and we rented a car. News flash: they drive on the "wrong" side of the road over there. We were given a manual transmission vehicle and we had to quickly learn how to shift with our left hand. Weird. This would have been hard enough, but add the pencil thin roads to the equation, and you have an extremely stressful driving situation. The only saving grace was that it was early morning on Sunday and most people were still comfortably in their homes, giving us ample opportunity to meander the tiny roads of Ireland.

We eventually figure it out. I was the first to drive and Justeen likely had the equivalent of twenty massive heart attacks as I attempted to exercise my judgment about the width of the automobile. Suffice it to say that exercise is an ongoing process.

Anyhoo, our first stop was a sleepy little town on the West coast of Ireland called Quilty. Elliot was very happy to see the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.



We needed some breakfast, so we popped into this little shop and picked up some food from the "deli." We passed on the blood pudding, but we were able to get a few poached eggs plopped in a bag for us. The Irish have a strange sense of taste. Well, the meal took a lot of Elliot, and in no time, he was back asleep.


Right around this time, we passed the stunningly beautiful Cliffs of Moher, but because of the sleeping baby, we were unable to get out of our car to see them. Wanting our child to sleep more than we wanted to see the world famous cliffs, we drove on.

We stayed in Galway, where our friends Roger and Neil met us. They live in Wolverhampton, England, and flew up to Ireland to visit with us. Enjoying the unusually lovely weather, we headed to the Eyre Square, the city's center, and let Elliot run around.



Roger and Neil only stayed for one night. Once they left, we decided to take the car out for some more heart thumping driving. We passed through the Connemara region (apparently famous for their ponies). The mountains were beautiful and the cost even more so.




We made our way to a little town called Clifton where we found some lunch and gazed at the mountains and surprisingly quiet north Atlantic.



After leaving Clifton, we stopped at a beach and let Elliot enjoy the sand between his toes (and in his diaper).





After leaving the beach, we passed a lovely little town called Round Stone. We thought, next time we come to Ireland, we're certainly staying here.


Alas, it was time to leave this beautiful place. While packing, Elliot seemed to be reflecting on what he experienced (or it could have just been the sand in his diaper).

The forbidden dance

New Car and Jill (not related)

We finally made the plunge and bought a new car. The little Golf wasn't cutting it - getting in and out of the 2-door on our hill was difficult and annoying. So, after much deliberation, we decided to buy a Subaru Forester. It's all-wheel drive and promises to handle very well in New England weather and the notoriously bad Boston roads.


On a completely different note (and if I weren't so lazy, should be a separate blog post), Jill, Elliot's nanny from last summer, came by last night for a visit. She hadn't seen Elliot for an entire year and was shocked by his rapid growth. But that's not saying much, this morning, I hadn't seen Elliot for eight hours, and I was shocked by his growth.

Speed Boat

Last weekend, we all went out on a boat together. My colleague Jim has a little fishing boat that's docked up in the Parker river in Newbury, MA. This, Boston's north shore, is truly a beautiful part of the world. Lots of rivers that snake through marshland and dumps right out into a dramatic Atlantic. Elliot didn't much like the life jacket, but he put up with it in exchange for the thrill of his little lifetime.




Notice the grape on my shoulder. After about an hour, we found a little beach at which to dock. This is a view of Crane's beach, which was right across the way from the southern tip of Plum Island (which is where we docked the boat).



We threw an anchor in the water and walked out to the shore. Of course, Elliot wanted only to walk back into the water.


As you can see, he's having a grand ol' time.




This pic won't cooperate, but here's a sideways version of Elliot taking a little nap on the boat ride back to the dock.

summertime fun

Summer is here and in New England that means blow-up kiddie pools. So, we rolled ours out and let the kids take a dip. Here they are on July 4th taking in the sun and surf. The other naked kid is Henry - Elliot's good friend from daycare.



Elliot is making an offering. It's a brown rubber turtle.


But it's not all kiddie pools and backyards, there is also a fairly large ocean nearby. And beyond that, there's this thing called Cape Cod. We took a boat from Boston to the tip of the Cape - a little town called Provincetown. Or as it is lovingly known by the locals, P-town. P-town is a pretty fantastic place - it's family friendly, Massachusetts style. We happened to go to P-town during "bear week." Here bear does not refer to honey-eating, picnic-basket stealing wildlife. These bears, as the captain of the boat said, are OK to feed - but they like the expensive liquid kind of food.

Anyway, here's the port of P-town. That tall thing in the background in the pilgrim monument. The pilgrims landed in p-town before heading to Plymouth. They took one look at the place and said, man, the new world is a "freakin' sand dune" and continued on their way.

Another pic of the port from the perspective of the ferry.


We only had a few hours to spend there, so after eating lunch, we went promptly to the beach. It was a great, north facing beach, with a 360-degree view of water. Truly spectacular. But, what was more spectacular was Elliot's yellow pale. Here's Justeen getting him all set up.

And here's his yellow pale.

And here he is pouring freezing ocean water on me.


Oh yeah, and our friend Mindy was visiting. She was on her way back from Africa and decided to stop by Boston again. She stayed a week and we're already looking forward to her passage next summer.

Elliot's Mikvah

We had a Mikvah and naming ceremony for Elliot at the Temple we've been attending here in Boston. Basically, the mikvah was a formality. As Justeen is not Jewish, Elliot's identity would be in question to some lame people who care about such things. So, we went through the process so that there would be no confusion. It was actually a nice little thing - three rabbis came to a nice warm bath and Elliot got to play in the water.


The next day, we had the naming ceremony during friday night services. Here's what I wrote and what the rabbi read:

Elliot's hebrew name will be Eliyahu. The reason we named him Elliot, and the reason we would like his Hebrew name to reflect his English name, is because of our understanding of the significance of the prophet Elijah. We are both intrigued by this figure - his understated wisdom, his modesty, his deep sense of justice. We want our son to be successful - but we measure success not simply in economic terms, we measure success in his ability to be self-sufficient, and in his understanding that all actions of the self are situated in the actions of the community. Elijah understood that individuals only exist in societies, and individual actions are social actions. We want our son to have a deep respect for self, but an even deeper respect for the society he lives in and the communities that embrace him. We want our son to respect authority, but like Elijah, not to be afraid to question it when he knows its wrong. This is also the relationship we want him to have to Judaism. We want him to respect its traditions, but never blindly. We want him to take comfort and solace in its community; but never at the expense of his ability to think freely.

Finally, each year when we leave a cup for Elijah at the Seder table, we understand it as a symbol of hope - as the impossible pursuit of redemption. And the figure of Elijah reminds us each year that redemption isn't something that just shows up. It takes hard work and perseverance. The messiah will not come until peace and social justice are restored in the world, and it is we who must strive for and work towards creating a society that is fair and just for all. We give our son a name that is at once utopian and pragmatic. We give him a name that embodies our hope in him, our hope in the world, without burdening him with impossible expectations.

California Without Dad

While I was home working on my book, Justeen and Elliot went to California for a visit. Most importantly, Justeen braved the solo travel with toddler on a six-hour flight. She is truly a brave soul. So, I don't have narration to this pics - but I thought in the interest of documenting Elliot's life, I would post them.

Here's Elliot and Maryann. It's blurry, but darn cute.


Here they are struggling over rights to the very annoying Pets.com toy. Ah, neither Maryann or Elliot are able to let go of the swingin' 90s.


Terry and George came up for a visit. I don't know what they're doing. But it looks like a good time.


And, one of Elliot's favorite pastimes - swinging (not in the 1970s sense).


Justeen: "I could have had a V-8"

DJ Baby

Just who needs the sound canceling ear phones?

Some Pictures from Daycare

See More Pics Here

Elliot Learns to Say Izzy

It took awhile, but Elliot learned how to say the name of his favorite being.

Visit from the Grand 'rents

My parents rolled into town last week for a quick visit. The weather turned sour, but we had a great time nonetheless. The first two days dipped into the 40s and dumped rain - so we opted to keep our activities indoors. We went to the museum of science because we had heard great things about the toddler room. And we were not disappointed. Here's a brief sampling of the activities:

a giant litebright

a cave thingy with plush bugs


and a massive xylophone at elliot's level

There were also little monkeys involved and later a temper tantrum. Sadly, I had to go to a meeting and missed out on the monkeys and the tantrum. Too bad.

The next day, still cold and rainy, we set out for the new Institute of Contemporary Art on the South Boston waterfront. Elliot loved running back and forth along a long corridor with big glass walls that lurched above the harbor. Here we are contemplating the moody scene.

Finally, on Sunday, the weather cleared and we set out to Old Sturbridge Village - a living museum of New England life in the 1830s. It turned out to be a beautiful day and a pretty amazing place. I was expecting total cheese. When in fact, the place was rather tastefully presented. All sorts of characters roamed the little village and were quite knowledgeable about history and their particular craft. We spoke to a guy about gardening for a good twenty minutes, and the blacksmith kept my dad busy for longer than some podcast about the stock market.

Here are a couple views of the landscape...



One of the things that fascinated Elliot was this odd puritan bowling game. Here it is in action.



The only problem is you have to pick up your own pins. No automated system here.


At the end of the day, everyone was happy. Elliot got to bowl, my parents got to taste life in the old new england (would that then just be england?), and I got to learn about sticking vegetables in sand to last through the winter. All told, smiles all around.


Then the time came for the grand 'rents to get on a plane back for LA. Elliot had four days of activity and was just ready to rest.

Visit to the Museum

One morning, after breakfast, we decided to go to the children's museum. We figured, we have a child, and we'd like to see other children preserved under glass.


Elliot was a bit taken back by this prospect. But he was game for anything. We arrived at the museum, and as it turns out, we weren't greeted by famous embalmed children, or a history of child evolution. When considering the museum, I forgot to take notice of the apostrophe. It's not a children museum; quite on the contrary, it's a children's museum. A museum for children, not about them. Well go figure.

So, we played basketball.


Posed with Big Poppy...


Traveled through tubes...


And played with water.



All in all, a pretty great day for one and all. We're happy when Elliot's happy, and Elliot found a unique state of bliss at the museum not about children.

Mother's Day

To celebrate mother's day, the three of us went down to the public garden to have a picnic. We bought some sandwiches and fruit at this little market in Beacon Hill. Elliot was unhappy with how much it cost.


He was upset, but he wanted to eat anyway.


I mean how could you stay upset when the woman of honor is looking so good.


After lunch, we all went to the pond to look at the ducks. There were many, and we were told about each one.

Bye bye Boston

I know, I know, long time. We should just assume that every entry begins with this sentiment. It's funny, as time goes on, Elliot is photographed less. Not that he's waning in cuteness - that factor is still very high. Only that I realize that parenting and documenting are each full time jobs. If I can only pick one - it would have to be documenting, but Justeen forced me to reconsider.

Jeannette, Guillaume and Ella moved to London. Here's some documents of their last day in Boston together, hangin' with their pops.

Walking through the cemetery

Preparing to go down slide

And off we go!

It was a bitter sweet day. We had a nice time strolling around and we vowed to do it again sometime soon. And we just might take a trip out to London town this summer to say a quick hello.

Elliot dealt with the pain by digging in the dirt. Whatever works.


And when we told him we weren't interested in having his dirt, he got very upset.