Orlando trip Part II

In which I discuss and show photos of the pool and the beach. 

Yeah, this was a weird resort.  There was this gorgeous canal fronted by a beautifully manicured lawn on all sides:

And then they also had this stretch of perfect beach:  soft sand, minimal seaweed, hammocks and lounge chairs scattered about tastefully.

And right where the beach meets the water, they post this sign:

If you can't read it, it says do not play or swim in the lake.  For your own safety.

Which brings up lots of questions: if it's not safe to go in the water, is it okay to let Elliot wade up to the edge?  Is it okay to let him grab fistfuls of sand obviously soaked in selfsame water?

Yes, I let him muck around in the water.  I think they were just worried about kids eating duck poop:

Or heron poop:

Oh yeah, they had swan boats, did I mention the swan boats?


They also had a great playground.  Elliot went on his first covered slide by himself:

But the truth is we spent most of our time at the pool.

I made Elliot cry when I took him in the water, because I thought he liked being dunked underwater.  About a year ago we took him to upstate new york with Bob and Lauren (see this post for a refresher course) and when I dunked him underwater he came up smiling.

This time the dunking did not go so smoothly.  He swallowed a lot of water, came up coughing, and smacked me in the face.

Normally I scold him when he hits me.  But this time I gave him a pass.

I have now decided I agree with this idea that very young babies remember the womb and as a result have a certain comfort in water.  Elliot had that when he was 6 months old.  And now he has lost it.

Is it because we didn't give him swimming lessons?

Regardless, Hannah was much better with Elliot in the water.  After ten minutes she had him voluntarily sticking his face in the water to blow bubbles.  Which, if you haven't tried it recently, is pretty damn fun.

For the record, I tried to get a photo of Hannah and Elliot together.  But our crappy camera will only focus intermittently:

Orlando SGIM conference

A few weeks ago I went to the annual meeting of the Society for General Internal Medicine.  It's a great conference, good solid medicine and some left-leaning politics (all of it fully evidence-based, of course).  I gave a presentation on Thursday, and then Friday Hannah and Elliot came down for a few days of beach and pool vacation.  

We stayed at the Walt Disney Swan and Dolphin Resort.  It was such a weird place.  Two hotels, one with giant 40-foot swans on top, the other with dolphins.  The two hotels stared at each other across a big moat, which was used to transport resort guests to Disney World or Epcot or wherever else they wanted to go (as long as it was within the Disneytotalpleasurekingdom, of course).

Elliot's too young for all that stuff, but they did try to get their Disneyhooks in him (this was at breakfast, by the way):

Later we walked down the boardwalk.  We got kicked off here:

Elliot learned how to do this:

I developed ennui:

Here's an example of that weird hotel architecture I'm talking about.  Our hotel was called The Dolphin.  Does that look like a dolphin?

If Elliot were a singer-songwriter, this would be the cover of his self-titled debut album:

Hannah looks glamorous even when it's the last thing on her mind:

Yes, that is a waterfall of cascading scalloped shells, each larger than the previous:

D.C. for Memorial Day Weekend

And I forgot to bring our camera.

Luckily Aaron has it together.   There's this thing called a tumblr apparently?

Check out the full Albie Mose blog for photos til we get back.

The Amazing Bronx River Flotilla!

Can you believe this is New York City?

Updates

He likes to climb.  He will walk up to a bookcase, like the ones in his room that hold all our books, and he will put his little toes on it. And he will try to climb, even though it’s apparent he just cannot.  

He does the same thing with the ottoman in the living room.  He puts his hands on the low stand that holds the TV --- its surface is about eye level for him.  Then he stretches out a lone foot and touches the ottoman with it.  A little more bending and stretching, and he can even get that foot up on top of the ottoman.  And then he tries to push himself up with that ottoman-foot, and I have to step in before things get ugly.  

Actually, it wouldn’t get ugly.  He has nowhere near the strength needed to pull off the Baryshnikov-like move he’s envisioning. It would be like me doing a split on the uneven bars.  And I don’t even know if splits are possible on uneven bars.

Photo Booth!

April 2011

Updates

He still does the big OHHH surprise face.  This morning we were all three lying in bed, and he wanted to read Pinocchio.  Hannah and I were on our backs side by side, and Elliot was straddling Hannah’s stomach.  I held the book and turned the pages.  Each time a new page was revealed he opened his mouth SOOO WIDE WIDE WIDE and looked at Hannah to see her reaction.  

Dr. visit

We went to the doctor last week.  His 18-month visit.  Dr. Klotzman, his pediatrician who is an Orthodox Jew, loved him, said she wanted to steal him.  He was so QUIET while she listened to his heart and lungs.  It just about made me cry.  He sat there, still, and watched her move the bell of the scope around his chest.  He looked at me, and at Hannah, and saw how still we were, and he was still too.  

It reminded me of a game that Hannah likes to play.  When I come home, sometimes she stands perfectly still someplace --- sometimes for a long time, like three whole minutes, as I wander the apartment saying her name and eventually concluding she’s not there.  And then, once I’ve started roaming around like I’m alone, she sneaks up behind me and shouts and scares the living piss out of me and down my leg.  

One day she did it with Elliot.  I climbed the stairs to our apartment, loaded with groceries, clicked open the door and called her name.  No response.  So I went into the kitchen and dumped the groceries, and said “you here?” even louder.  Still no response.   So I went into the living room.  And what did I find?

Hannah sitting on the couch, with Elliot on her lap.  She was bubbling with glee.  “Somehow he just KNEW to be quiet,” she said. 

And the same thing happened in the doctor’s office.  He has some ability to sense when the moment calls for stillness.  Not sure what that means for his adult personality....

Shrug

He likes to shrug.  It doesn’t mean “I don't know”.  He just tosses his shoulders in the air because he’s seen adults do that.  

The more I watch it, the more I think it’s a gesture of mild excitement.  If we’re playing with a toy and the toy does it’s fun thing (like the ball pops through the hole or whatever)  he will sometimes look at me and shrug. 

It’s almost like he wants to throw his arms in the air, but he’s too lazy so he just lifts his shoulders up.

Dandy

I wrote an earlier post about how hard I laughed when I saw Elliot eating a banana.  And someone pointed out that saying something is awesome is less good than sharing that awesomeness with the group.  

So here you go: Elliot eating a banana.

Eating Strawberries and Squirming