Turning 11 - Birthday celebrations for Jordan.

We are going on six years now since we moved to Bermuda; and somehow during that time, this guy turned 11.

This was what Jordan looked like when we first moved here.  November 2010.  At the playground at Somersfield Academy.




And now:  January 17, 2016.



How did that happen again?

To celebrate, we had a full weekend of festivities.  Grandmas Helene and Grandpa Michael joined us again from New York.  This makes their 12th visit to Bermuda!





Ice cream is yummy! So is the birthday breakfast brunch at Bouchee! Thanks for the special treat, Helene and Michael.

Jordan had a birthday movie party at the Specialty Cinema in town.  We watched the first episode of Star Wars - IV, "A New Hope."  Big thanks to Ana, who handled the booking.  After some miscommunication regarding party times, she contacted me later and adjusted the price of the party to reflect the mistake.  I never asked her to, she just offered.  I love recognizing great customer service like that.  The staff at the cinema the day of also should be commended for keeping their cool and carrying on during the onslaught of 15 boys.

Oh look - there they are.

Group shot.









Jeff was the welcoming wagon:





shenanigans.



The Star Wars cake, courtesy of The Marketplace. They did a great job, and given Bermuda prices, it wasn't that expensive.








Loads of presents from his friends.



That evening, we went out to dinner at Portofino - a family favorite.  Jordan was serenaded by the waiters, who delight in calling him various names.  It's usually Pasquale.. this evening they chose Miguel.  They also know he is a huge fan of the Parmesan cheese.  When the waiter comes by with it for the table, he heads to Jordan first.

Their desserts also don't disappoint.



This guy was allowed to leave the confines of his cage for a little while as well.  Look how nicely he is buttering his bread.  That lasted for about 30 seconds.  And then he was a disaster.  He's not the best age for restaurants yet, but we try in limited doses.  Portofino is fabulously accommodating on that front. 

 

The next night was a Monday, and the actual date of Jordan's birth, but he had gymnastics after school.  He doesn't get home till after 8, but we all waited to eat with him (well, except Theo..)  A cheese plate and wine helped tide over the grownups until we feasted later. 

First there was steak.  Then there was cake.

 

I made a two layer chocolate cake and covered it with sprinkles.

 

He loved it.



Hard to believe that our time here is now marked in terms of "this will be the last time.."  But it's true.  I'm fairly certain this will be the last time we will be celebrating Jordan's birthday in Bermuda in January! 

Hope he remembers it fondly. 

Scenes from St. George's, Bermuda

The last two weekends have found us out on the eastern end of the island. While there, we've revisited St. George's and wandered around the town on two quiet Sunday afternoons.

A few snippets:



Flagstone in Town Hall. 



The stockade - home to many a tourist and resident photo op.



No one escapes it.

Of course St. George's is more than just a stockade in Kings Square. The town itself retains its historic charm, through its architecture and protected status as a UNESCO world heritage site. The cobblestone streets wind through narrow alleys, with beautifully preserved houses, designed in the Bermuda style. For pure walking purposes (ie with a stroller) Sundays are perfect as there is minimal road traffic (sidewalks are a rarity in BDA generally.)



We've enjoyed several of the restaurants in the area over the years.  Jordan watches the waves ripple on the harbor at the Tavern by the Sea.  This is a  pretty place, and was apparently quite popular with the stroller set on a Sunday afternoon.  I tried Jordan's mac and cheese, and it was one of the better ones I've had on the island.  My spicy Bloody Mary wasn't too bad either.



The White Horse Tavern is always popular with the tourists, but it's another nice spot on the water, and it is right in Kings Square.  It gets windy though!  And be sure to save some bread for the fish.  They put on a good show.



Looking through old photos on Flickr, I remembered St. George's was one of the first places we explored upon moving to Bermuda.  Poor Admiral George.  First forced to crash his ship on the reefs of Bermuda, and now serving as a monkey bar for American rug rats four hundred years later.  The irony.



There blow some mighty canons.



It's a pretty town - and the former first capital of Bermuda.  These days, it's a source of endless discussion as far as reviving tourism and preserving a slice of historic Bermuda.  There's actually quite a bit to see, if you don't mind wandering around and exploring. 



I noticed a few more stores and boutiques since I last visited, and there are still places I need to check out.  The Bermuda Perfumery is here, and is tucked down a little lane right by St. Peter's Church.  I mean to get there one of these days to try their high tea.



Fort St. Catherine.

 

Flashback stockade days, October 2010.



Yep, no one leaves the island without a picture in it.  Hi Grandma H!

Happy to answer specific itinerary questions though my partners at Tipglo! 

You can reach me here: 

Baby 3 update

I've now hit the 40 week mark.  Forty weeks of being pregnant.  Yes, I am grateful don't get me wrong.  I know there are some who would do anything to be in my shoes.  I hope everyone who wants to be pregnant gets that chance at least once in her lifetime.

But for those of you who have been here, you know what I mean.

Can we commiserate for just a minute?





It's not just me. 

Jeff has been beside himself for days now as this baby decides whether he wants to come out "early" or not.  We had some false alarms over the weekend when I suddenly started having massive contractions in the middle of a restaurant.



No, these aren't the famous Georgetown steps from The Exorcist.  This is Chancery Lane, in Hamilton where a new Indian restaurant opened up.



This is the location of the former Fresco's restaurant.  Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to comment on how good the food was at Ruby Murrays.  Everyone at the table was raving about it (try the lamb chops!) Service was impeccable, and the menu looked solid. 

 Unfortunately, I decided to have a preggo moment.

It started out with the feeling of being incredibly hot.  No matter how close I could get to the AC blasting, I was sweating.  Like a flop sweat that just came over me.  Then I decided to stand up and go to the loo, to stretch.  When you are as wide as I am right now, you attract a lot of attention as you make your way between the chairs.  I tried to avoid the eyes staring at the belly.  Oddly, there was another pregnant woman seated by us who looked very concerned.  She probably had the same thought I did - get some spicy food to get the baby out.

After climbing up the stairs (warning for those patrons who will require assistance) I returned to the table and tried to eat something.  For whatever reason, I could barely eat a bite.  I had specifically avoided eating much during the day in anticipation of the meal, but my body was not cooperating.  I squirmed in my seat, unable to get comfortable as I began to notice the discomfort I was feeling was actually contractions.

I tried to ignore them, continued sweating, stood up again to stretch, walked around the foyer while concerned waiters shot me glances.  I got back to the table and told Jeff I had to go home.  Apologizing profusely to our friends, he walked me to Front St to hail a cab.

On the way there, I had to sit several times as contractions passed through me and I groaned.  The steps were not very comfortable.

Once in the cab, Jeff went back to the restaurant to settle up while the driver brought me home.  He asked me several times if I was sure we were going in the right direction.  "The hospital is back that way ma'am." 

"I'll be ok... get me home!  I have to lay down."

It was a very quick ride.

Jeff got home quickly and we began a long night of monitoring contractions.  My midwife was out of town, but had arranged back up who arrived and helped ease me through wave after wave of pain.  She drew a bath, massaged me, applied hip pressure to ease the lower back pain, and guided me through the crests of pain that ebbed and flowed.  After about two hours, I said it was time to go to the hospital.  I couldn't take it anymore, and I was in tears.

Once there, Jeff pulled up to the ER, because the main entrance where the elevator to maternity is located, was closed.  I don't know what happened to me, but I burst into irrational tears and refused to get out.  Jeff started screaming at me, but my mind was telling me this was the wrong door.  I didn't want to stand in line at triage while someone determined who should be seen first.  Having been through this process in the ER before, I just couldn't make myself go through it again in this state.  Jeff finally convinced me to get out of the car, and we were waived through quickly.

I got up to maternity, checked in, and was eventually put on a monitor.  And then the baby decided he was just kidding. 

Contractions slowed down, then stopped completely. 

THEY JUST STOPPED.  All those hours in pain, and they just stopped.

After an hour of being monitored by the nurses, and only being 2 cm dilated, I opted to go home and wait it out. 

From midnight to 3, he continued playing with us.  He gave us a few good contractions, then nothing, some minor little Braxton Hicks type things, then nothing.  He moved around to let me know he was still in there, then silence.

I passed out.

The next night (Saturday) was more of the same.

Sunday, I woke up well rested.  He hadn't moved at all!  I worried till after breakfast, at which point he woke up and began kicking.  He was having a little party in there.  Nothing warranting attention, just a little "Hi!  I'm still here," kind of uterus kicking.

Monday was another calm day.  The kids were back from the US and spent the day with Jeff at the beach.  I laid on the couch staring at my belly and half-heartedly folded clothes.  What was this baby doing??

It's Tuesday now, and my other two are in school.  I'm doing last minute things like adjusting the stroller, working out the mechanics of the breast pump I bought, paying bills, and organizing the meal plan for the next couple weeks.

I got some prep done earlier over the weekend.

Suvair Saran's meatloaf.  My absolute favorite.



Cook's Illustrated Simple lasagna - adore.



I just don't know what to think about these preterm labor contractions.  I've never been through this before with either Jordan or Mina.  Both of them were induced for various reasons, but neither was preceded by long nights of crushing pain.

Jeff has his own share of complaints.  Apart from the restless nights of me getting up, he is suffering through the coldest house in Bermuda.  I don't dare look at the Belco bill.  I just can't stop sweating. 



How he feels.



How I feel.

So tired.

Vacation Part II. NY & NJ.

There are many wonderful things about living in Bermuda. You want nice beaches. We got 'em. You want sunshine? Yep, can do. You want decent pizza? Bwah ha ha!!!

How 'bout a slice of chewy, half-baked dough, shaped in a wedge and covered in sugared tomato sauce? There may be some shredded cheese substitute if you're really lucky.

It's pathetic, but all I wanted when we hit stateside was pizza. (and Target ... and world peace). After five days with Grandma, we packed our bags and headed to New Jersey. There, we camped out for two nights to take Jordan to his biopsy at Columbia, visit friends, meet with our realtor to discuss our house, do errands, etc.

And eat pizza.

Our favorite Leonian and fellow mother -in- arms, "Miss Nataliya" graciously welcomed us into her home and ordered from the kid's favorite - Donna's Pizza. I ate three slices. Without breathing. My kids may or may not have eaten. I don't recall. I was too busy swooning. Five months without a decent slice will do that to ya. Of course, the irony is that when we lived in NJ, I wasn't the biggest pizza eater. I could take it or leave it. My vices were more chocolate related. But now that the possibility of decent pizza no longer exists for me; I crave it constantly. There's something to be said about this as far as dieting mentality goes, methinks.



The second food item I was dying for was decent sushi. It's not that Bermuda doesn't have it - there are sushi places. I've heard there are some good ones, actually. But factoring in the cost of paying for a babysitter so I can go out and eat Bermuda sushi, and the actual cost of each particular piece of sushi, and the amount of sushi I like to consume... well, it's cheaper to do it in Manhattan. Which we did.

Lucky the Brooklyn gang was willing to come out and humor me. Big thanks to Gina for setting this up. Big thanks to the staff at the restaurant for not throwing us out after Jeff's behavior. I swear, I thought I left the kids with the babysitter. Apparently not.

Jordan's biopsy was Friday morning. - really early Friday morning. Once again, Miss Nataliya stepped in to babysit Mina so we could take Jordan to the hospital and focus on his care that day. Needless to say, Mina was thrilled to spend the day with her friends, visit her old school, and go arts-and-crafts crazy!

The biopsy went well. Luckily, Jordan was the first patient of the day. He had a little bit of trouble with the anesthesia mask, again. Putting it on and staying calm long enough to go under continues to be a challenge. But, I was really comforted by the head anesthesiologist who laid out a very sensible course to follow during the entire biopsy. Last time, Jordan had some "issues" while under that resulted in him being intubated. Some mucus or secretions built up while he was under and he went into "respiratory distress." This time, they had to decide whether to intubate him from the outset or proceed normally with just the mask. That's the less intrusive procedure. She went with that option. And her reasoning, as she explained it, struck me as remarkably calm and focused. I liked her.

Jordan came out of the biopsy quickly and went into recovery. Because it was only a single ventricle biopsy, he only had to lay in recovery for two extra hours, instead of four. He woke up after a bit; and unlike previous biopsies - he was not nauseous. His first words were a request for juice.

He stayed calm, did not bleed through the bandages, and we were out of there in record time! The results came in and he had zero rejection. That's the best news of all.



We celebrated that evening at an old favorite - Dante's.



We ate. Interesting things...



Oh boy, did we ever.

Can we just pause a minute and contrast the eating styles of my two children? By the forkful = Mina. One flipping strand at a time = Jordan.

After a soul-satisfying Italian meal, don't you want to run screaming for the nearest ice cream store? My kids do. Pasta, bread, butter, and ice cream. I haven't uttered those words in the same sentence in at least 15 years. But my kids can get away with it. For now.

That night, Jeff watched the kids while I enjoyed a night in with the girls. Yay, wine night! Or.. tea night... is how I started actually. The whole crew came out to Nataliya's and it felt like we picked up right where we left off. A good night of gossip, current events (kind of), school politics, book discussions, some wine, some cheese, some chocolate. Wow, I missed those.

By the way, one of the topics centered on the book, "The Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mom," which I immediately went out and downloaded for my Kindle. Read it in two days. Like her or not, it was a fast-paced romp through her crazy, parenting years raising her Chinese-American-Jewish daughters in the traditional "Chinese way" I highly recommend it to all neurotic moms out there who either 1) want to feel better about themselves; or b) need a hefty inspiration for how to make their children do better in life. Or not. I'm not condoning how she raised her kids. I also think she expressed some half-hearted regrets herself if you read the latter half of the book carefully. But, I do think there might be some truth to some of the remarks she makes in her book.

Saturday morning arrived and we had a date with Continental. The kids are pros at going through security, putting their shoes, cuddlies and coats on the x-ray conveyor belt, and walking through the metal detectors. While we waited at our gate, we watched the two of them climb up the windows and watch the planes on the runway below. Suddenly, an announcement made us pause.

We had noticed the area was really crowded. Spring break had arrived and people were heading off to parts unknown. Way too many people, as it turned out. Continental had overbooked our flight and now it was time to pay. The nice lady at the counter started to play, "Let's Make a Deal." And we took it. We gave up our four seats and agreed to stay one more night so we could take the Sunday flight instead.

They provided us with two hotel rooms, a shuttle, dinner and breakfast vouchers, tickets for the next day plus four tickets for ANOTHER vacation to be used at our pleasure during the rest of the year. SCORE!!!!

I love a good deal.

We spent the afternoon in Manhattan watching a movie in Times Square and eating Mexican food at Chevy's with Grandma H and Michael.

I think the movie was good, but I passed out for the first half hour and slept blissfully.

I wasn't too worried because Jordan had a jumbo sized bag of popcorn; and I assumed Jeff was keeping an eye on them. We compared notes later, and he told me he was asleep for the first half too. Great minds think alike.

It was a pretty awesome vacation! We loved just about every minute of it. Hanging out with friends, great eating, great catching up, a successful biopsy and four airline tickets for the future (Tahoe family reunion in August!! Yes!!!) Ahhh... America...