Sarah’s water broke at 7:15 AM on November 25, 2016, and Oliver Louis Stocco Roy was born twelve and a half hours later, at 7:44 PM. He was 9 lbs 1 oz and 21 inches long. We’ll post more about his name later, but it should be noted that “Louis” is pronounced LOUee after his great grandfather, Louis Stocco.
Sarah’s labor was complicated by the fact that Oliver’s umbilical cord was both wrapped around his neck and fully knotted, cutting off oxygen during contractions. It was an emotionally intense experience for all of us, including the medical staff. Because of the urgency to get the baby out, it was also far more painful and physically traumatic for Sarah than we had anticipated.
Fortunately, moments after his rather dicey arrival, little Oliver loudly proclaimed his health and hunger. He was a rock star overnight, dividing his time between eating and sleeping. Today he got to meet two of his grandparents (the other two, we hope, in January), and his older sister and brother. They were very excited to meet and hold him.
Below are some pictures from Oliver’s first 24 hours. Click on any picture for a larger version.
In preparation for Family 3.0, we decided it was time for a major upgrade to Griffin’s loft. Loft 2.0 is bigger, and is now a shared loft for both Maggie and Griffin — we always knew that Maggie deserved a special loft space too. Beneath the deck is an area for reading and building forts, with room, eventually, for a crib. We couldn’t have done it without expert assistance from Sarah’s parents.
Getting started. (This is what Loft 1.0 looked like.)
Another lovely summer weekend at the cabin. The water was warm so we spent much of our time on or in the water. Many highlights of this trip escaped digital capture, including seeing young otters playing by the shore, a few sightings of a belted kingfisher, and a bizarre close encounter with a meditating cormorant (who remained standing on a sunken log unperturbed by Griffin approaching nearly within arm’s reach). Plus Daddy capsizing and emerging from the lake covered in muck. And a humongous man-eating water tarantula (that’s its scientific name) on the dock.
But we did manage to get a few shots. Click below for larger versions.
Apparently this is me trying to lick a dolphin (for real). But seriously, I can’t say enough about our art classes at Art with Ellen! Ellen is an amazing teacher with attention to detail specific to the age group she’s working with. Maggie is a reluctant artist in the sense that she often feels like she’s “doing it wrong.” Ellen brings so much enthusiasm and positive guidance, Maggie has been flourishing. Thank you to Grummy for this gift of classes! We’ve both been thoroughly enjoying them.
Sarah went went to her dawn workout outdoors this morning, despite our latest wave of arctic air. The weatherbug reading below was shortly after her workout, as the air started warming up.
Temperature during Sarah’s workout.
Naturally, afterwards, I got a text saying, “You should go skiing! It’s beautiful out!”
The following letter, written by Sarah, was published in the Villager, a local neighborhood newspaper, in their October 14, 2015 edition.
Last week, I rode my bike, equipped with a seat for my three-year-old and a trailer, to Target in Midway. On my way home from shopping, I rode along Hamline Avenue and was aggressively forced dangerously close to the curb and yelled at out of the window by a man in a very large SUV to “Get the f*** off the road!” as he cut his right turn right in front of me. I was rattled and shaken, most importantly because I had my three-year-old daughter with me, clearly visible to the driver.
I am a law-abiding bike rider. I have a flag on my trailer, always wear a helmet (as do my children), use bike lanes when applicable, would never even dream of blowing through an intersection or stoplight, yield and stop when I am supposed to, give hand turn signals, and never assume that drivers are going to give me the right-of-way. I usually go out of my way to avoid heavy traffic, but when I need to (as in my route to Target, which is difficult to get to using side streets), I am very aware of my place on the road and act accordingly.
99% of the time, drivers are exceptionally courteous to me as a bike rider, especially when my children are present. I am constantly pleasantly surprised when drivers at stop signs wave me across or stop for me to cross a busy intersection. But all it takes is one person driving aggressively for a tragedy to occur. A typical SUV weighs 6,000 pounds. My bike and trailer, plus me and my children, probably top out at 300 pounds. It’s easy to see who would be the loser in that confrontation.
We have all made bone-headed mistakes as drivers. I drive a minivan and have certainly been distracted enough to not see a biker or pedestrian quickly enough to slow down or give the right-of-way. I try very hard to be a courteous driver, but there are going to be times when I accidentally scare someone on foot or on a bike. What I experienced was no accident. The message to me from that driver was very clear: I am willing to purposefully endanger your life and your child’s life to get where I need to go. If you know an aggressive driver, talk to them. If you see aggressive driving, record and report the license plate. Let’s work together as a community to make our roads safe for everyone using them, including bike riders and pedestrians.
We started the summer off with a bang this year and it all still feels a bit like a dream.
In a bizarre turn of events, we were invited to TWO weddings in Europe this summer that happened to be one week apart and relatively close to each other physically. The first was in the south of France, not far from Toulouse. The other was in Umbria in central Italy. As part of our policy of doing things that seem impossible (like the road trip to Minnesota with a one-year-old last summer), Sarah and I committed to going and have been working hard all year to make it happen. On June 11 (the day after my duties at school ended) we boarded a plane for Rome!
Our trip divided neatly into three sections:
We spent our first four nights in Vernazza, part of the Cinque Terre in northwest Italy. We were on our own here, getting over jetlag and getting used to the rhythm of travel with a toddler.
Then we flew to Cordes sur Ciel in southern France for James and Eliza’s wedding where we stayed in an ultra-cool pigeon coop.
Finally we spent a week in Macerino, Umbria, for Tyler and Mieka’s wedding.
So as not to overwhelm everybody we’ve divided our photos into three sets to fit with these divisions. This blog entry highlights the first part of the trip, including a few of our favorite photos. Click on any of the photos to see the complete photo album with many more fabulous pictures.
Aside from the pictures, some favorite memories included:
After 22 hours of travel we arrived in Vernazza with little to no sleep. Even with our exhaustion, we were amazed by the town: steep terraced hills, buildings piled on top of each other, vivid colors, staircase “streets”, and a cool breeze blowing in from the Ligurian Sea. We tossed our luggage into our tiny one-room apartment and walked to the waterfront for some pizza and a view of the sunset. Afterwards we all slept for twelve solid hours. (Griffin was great with sleep; we haven’t shared a room with him since co-sleeping as an infant so we were worried.)
On our first day, Griffin awoke from his nap to say, loudly, “Go to the beach? Ok!” (He’s got this thing right now where he poses his favorite ideas as questions and then immediately says “Ok!” as if granting himself permission.) He loved the beach, laughing at the waves, covering himself with sand, and splashing in the water. His tiny little body would get SO cold, though, that we often had to take breaks so that he could return to a normal color.
Vernazza is a town of amazing views. As mentioned above, the streets are all super-narrow, and usually steep. (No cars allowed, since they can’t fit.) Suddenly you will pop around a corner and find a breathtaking vista where you could see much of the town arrayed beneath you (and the terraced vineyards continuing to climb into the sky). We loved the pace of life where we could just wander around, enjoying the views, sampling the food, and splashing at the beach.
We were all mesmerized by the trains. There are two tracks passing through town, but for the most part they are in tunnels in the mountains. The town’s platform is tiny with buildings all around it. Only two or three train cars actually fit on the outdoor platform, so most of the train is in the tunnel on either side when it stops. It’s a bit spooky having to walk through the dark to get on or off the front or rear cars. Many trains on these tracks don’t stop at the small town either, and so they come roaring through at full speed. Before you can hear or see them, a cold wind starts blowing from the tunnel. Everyone grabs their hats, and then the thing comes blazing past, vanishing into the next tunnel. Over the beach there is an expanse of track where the trains are visible again, high up on a masonry wall. Something about the combination of medieval architecture and the constant trains whipping by reminded me of Miyazaki films with their eclectic mix of technology and magic.
I wish I had some video to go along with this story, but the title says it all.
Griffin and I went on a walk on Tuesday down to Lakeshore Avenue to get more English muffins from our favorite bakery, Arizmendi. Naturally, as long as we were down there, we had to take a swing through my favorite store, Urban Indigo. Andrew often jokes that he could go in there with his eyes closed, pick something at random, and I’d love it. It’s pretty much true. The store may as well be named Sarah’s Favorite Things, but I digress. They have a children’s section, which I now have more of a reason to visit thanks to Mr. G, and I came across a jack-in-the-box. More specifically, it was a Jack Russell Terrier in a box that popped up to the tune “Oh Where, Oh Where Has My Little Dog Gone?”, and since Griffin has really been enjoying peek-a-boo, I thought he might like it.
I was wrong. He LOVED it. I mean, this kid would not stop laughing. I just did it over and over and over, and he kept laughing and squealing like it was the funniest thing on the face of the planet. Everyone in the store couldn’t help but hear his giggling, and it was agreed that the scene was pretty stinking cute.
Not being one to impulse buy, I didn’t take it home with us. Not only was it a little on the pricey side, but I thought ahead to what kind of trend this could turn into (“Oh, he likes it! Let’s buy it!”) and decided I’d try to find one for a Christmas present. We headed out of the store for our walk home, and over the mile or so home, he continued to laugh hysterically at random. Is it possible he was playing the scene over and over in his head, and it was continuing to make him giggle? This happens to me quite often, so I imagined it was happening to him, too.
We arrived home, and it was quite obviously nap time, but he was still in a great mood! We snuggled in the rocking chair, and he continued to giggle as he was falling asleep. Even after it was obvious that he was out and I had laid him in the crib and closed the door, I could still hear him laughing in his sleep. That pretty much clinched it. I needed to find a jack-in-the-box before Christmas.
The next day, I called around to just about every kid store I could think of (second-hand stores first), and no one had a used one or one that wasn’t a creepy clown. I decided to swallow the price tag and head back to Urban Indigo. The doggy one was way too cute to pass up, so into the bag it went. When we got home, I was really excited to show it to Griffin again, this time with video camera handy, ready to capture the laugh fest.
Unfortunately, he only found it mildly funny. I think his chuckles were pity chuckles, as in, “That wasso yesterday, Mom, but I’ll satisfy your need to hear me laugh since you spent 30 dollars on it.” Yes, that’s right. 30 dollars. There’s a lesson in here somewhere that I’ll figure out eventually. I’m still kind of new to this mom thing.
