Big Easy Highlights

Highlights, in no particular order, from our trip over the weekend to New Orleans, my favorite city to visit.

1.  J.P. accidentally turning on the radio in our room, jumping back in surprise, then smiling and saying "I played music!"  He was very pleased with himself. 

2.  J.P. raving about the long naps he took in his "green bed," a green "Pack 'N Play" supplied (thankfully) by the hotel.  Sadly, as Jude pointed out, he's really close to being too long to sleep comfortably in a Pack 'N Play.  We put the Pack 'N Play in the adjoining room we reserved, which ended up being a good move. 

3.  We enjoyed, and I mean really enjoyed, vomit free flights to and from New Orleans.  I can't overrate that fact.

4.  Pinball contests with Jude on the iPad, after we put J.P. down to bed.  We're addicted.

5.  My "St. Charles Avenue Run" Saturday afternoon while Jude and J.P. napped at the hotel, ending at Igor's, home of the best Bloody Mary on the planet.  I drank a Bloody Mary at a table on the sidewalk outside Igor's, then rode a streetcar back to our hotel.  Ah, New Orleans!

6.  Asking J.P., Saturday morning, if he'd like to go the Audobon Aquarium of the Americas, and having him answer with a resounding "yes."  The significance here is that J.P. rarely, if ever, says "yes" to anything.  On the other hand, he says "no" to many things.  So many things, in fact, that he has several different versions of "no" that he uses, changing his tone of voice and pitch depending on how strongly he feels about what you're asking him. 

7.  Attending the 9:30 a.m. Sunday service at Immaculate Conception Parish (Jesuit Church) with Jude, J.P. and Jude's parents, Jane and Jim.  What a beautiful, historical church, located just off Canal Street, in downtown New Orleans.  When I attend church away from home, I always get the reassuring feeling that I'm part of something that's a lot bigger and more important than me, if that makes sense. 

8.  Watching my son literally take over Shula's in our hotel at breakfast Saturday and Sunday, smiling, waving and saying "hi" and "thank you" to every server and hostess in the restaurant.  Jude and I remarked how amazing it is that a child (any child, not just ours) can make virtually any adult smile and forget their troubles, even if it's just for a minute.  It's a little bit sad that most of us lose that ability as we get older. 

9.  Watching Jude and J.P. lean, at the Audubon Aquarium of the Americas, leaning over the stingray tank, hands in the water, trying to "pet" the stingrays as they swam in circles. 

10.  Jude and I took a lot of pride (too much, probably) in the fact that at Judy and Bob Quinilty's boathouse on Lake Ponchartrain, J.P. quickly picked up on everyone's names, knew who was who, and was very affectionate to them all, hugging his many relatives when it was time to leave.  He talked a lot about "Uncle Bob" and "Uncle Bob's house."

11.  Brunch at the Camellia Grill on South Carrollton Avenue in New Orleans, arriving there straight from the airport Friday morning.  The best omelette I've ever had, by far.  Heavenly.  J.P. devoured, and I mean devoured, the french fries there.  Incidentally, the omelettes came with french fries.  What's not to like about that?

12.  Jude getting lost on our way back from the boathouse Friday evening.  She insisted on driving, with J.P., her parents and me as passengers in our rented minivan.  Not "lost," exactly, but turned around because of all the one way streets, so that it took an extraordinarily long time to get back to our hotel.  She'll kick my ass if she reads this, so I'm hoping she doesn't.

13.  Snowballs at Hansen's Sno-Bliz, in business in New Orleans for more than 70 years.  That's a blog post, in and of itself, though. 

14.  Popeyes with "Jimdad" (Jude's father) Sunday afternoon, a few minutes before we left for the aiport.  I've said it before (but I don't say it enough), I'm fortunate to have in laws like Jimdad and Jane, who do so much for Jude, J.P. and me.  Jude feels the same way about my mother, Jane.  We both hit the in law lottery, that's for sure. 

It's late, time for bed.  I'll post some photos tomorrow.  Well, here's one, just for fun, taken Sunday afternoon at the Audubon Insectarium.

       

P.O.W.

Early this evening, Jude, J.P. and I returned from New Orleans, where we went to celebrate Judy and Bob Quinilty's (Jude's aunt and uncle) 40th wedding anniversary. 

There's a big difference, I think, in traveling with a child who is almost 2 1/2 years old, as opposed to one who has not turned 2 years old yet.  On J.P.'s first trip to New Orleans, in January, he screamed and cried for most of the 1 + hour flight, down and back.  He vomited in  his car seat, on the airplane, on the way down.  He threw up again in the rental car, on our way to the hotel. 

This trip, Jude and I tried a new approach, one we like to call "the P.O.W. Toddler Travel Treatment."  It's based on sleep deprivation, the withholding of food and all liquids (water and milk) and the creation of distractions of any sort.  We found it to be very, very successful with J.P.  I know, I know, it sounds extreme, but desperate times call for desperate measures.  And, it's not as bad as it sounds.

Since we were flying back this afternoon at 4:10 p.m., we had to leave for the airport at 2 p.m., which is when J.P. normally naps.  So, no nap.  He ate a big breakfast this morning and had a snack later, along with milk and water throughout the morning.  However, we skipped lunch, so there wasn't anything on his stomach to make him sick while we were on the airplane.  Ingenious, really.  We didn't even have to use the iPad (loaded with "Bob the Builder" and "Sid the Science Kid" videos to distract him, as we did on the flight down to New Orleans.  He fell asleep as we airplane was taking off and didn't wake up until we landed.  No crying, no fussing and, best of all, no vomiting.  Beautiful.

The Little Things

Tonight, after dinner, Jude and I were upstairs playing with J.P. in "the nook," an area just inside the small porch overlooking our front yard.  He has a small bookcase there, along with lots of toys, stuffed animals, etc.

Using a tiny screwdriver - the kind you might use to tighten the screws in a pair of eyeglasses - I was able to take apart a musical "Thomas the Train" caboose and replace the batteries in it.  The caboose hadn't played music in a long time, because the batteries had been dead and we hadn't been able to figure out how to change them.  It's always been one of J.P.'s favorite toys and I have vivid memories of strolling down to Bongo Java with him clutching the caboose in his small hands, pusing the button on top of it and playing the same snippet of song over and over again.  It's one of my favorite toys of his, too.

Anyway, after a bit of a struggle, I successfully changed the batteries and put the caboose back together.  When I handed it to J.P., he pushed the button on top and much to his delight, the music immediately started playing.  He grinned at me and repeated, several times, something along the lines of "Dada fix caboose."  I felt like the smartest father in the world. 

I only hope it's always that easy to fix things for my son.   

J.P., Carley and Ozzie.

Here's a photo of J.P. getting Ozzie's autograph on a baseball card.  Notice J.P. is wearing his Nashville Sounds shirt.

Ozzie

Yesterday, I surprised J.P. and met him and our nanny, Carley, at the Green Hills Library just before lunch.  Ozzie, the Nashville Sounds' mascot, was scheduled to read to the children at the library.  Carley told J.P. she the first part of the week that she would take him and for the next couple of days, it was all he could talk about.  He remembered Ozzie, of course, from the baseball games we have taken him to at Greer Stadium.

Ozzie was just getting started "reading" (actually, he made gestures and acted out the story, while another representative of the Sounds read the books) when I walked into the classroom in the children's section where everyone had gathered.  J.P. saw me, grinned happily, then pointed at Ozzie in the front of the room, saying "Dada, Ozzie reading!"  Very cute. 

There were probably 10 or 12 parents, mostly mothers, sitting in the floor with their children in their laps.  Of course, J.P. refused to sit in my lap or Carley's lap.  Instead, he wandered around the room, saying "hi" to parents, then pointing at Ozzie, saying "Ozzie reading."  Also cute and a little embarrassing.  I whispered, "J.P., come sit in Daddy's lap."  "No!" he said, so I didn't push my luck.  He just kept wandering around the room, happily pointing at Ozzie. 

Daddy Mustache

The Nashville Bar Association softball tournament was last weekend.  I've played in the league and, generally, with the same nucleus of players, for 17 or 18 years.  The tournament, always hot and always fun, lasted all day Saturday and Sunday.  My team, Riley, Warnock and Jacobsen, lost in the finals early Sunday evening in our fourth game of the day.  By the end, we were hot, tired and ready for it to be over.

Anyway, a few of us always grow some type of facial hair for the tournament.  This year, I sported a nice mustache, which Jude hated.  I even wore it to work a couple of days this week, before finally shaving it Wednesday morning because I had an oral argument in the Tennessee Court of Appeals.  J.P. liked it and after I shaved it, he rubbed his fingers above my upper lip and said, "bye bye, Daddy mustache." 

It was even funnier when I left for work this morning.  Instead of saying "bye bye, Dada," as he usually does, he said, "bye bye, Daddy mustache."  My new name, I guess.