first word

Remember the blog entry from February 22, 2006? Well, after all these months, "hi" has been officially declared as Elijah's first word. I am a little disappointed that his first word wasn't Russian, but I can't blame him for choosing a simple mono-syllabic word with only to letters. After all, many Russian words have 4 or more syllables and difficult consonant clusters. The formal "hello," for example, is zdravstvuyte. I can see how a simple "hi" would be more appealing.

At first it sounded like many other random sounds he made, but over time the timing and context became more and more fitting, and are now near perfect. I say "near" because sometimes he just can't wait and says "hi" when he hears the front door opening, before the person actually comes into the house. Or, when we pick Daddy up after work, he says "hi" as soon as he sees Ryan coming to the car, but before he actually opens the door and can hear and appreciate the greeting. But most of the time he says just at the right moment.

boyhood

After the first night back home Elijah woke up a different child. The change was almost palpable. He ran around the apartment happily squealing and jabbering and using new sounds, and being more vocal than ever before. We initially thought it was just because he was happy to be home. But the next day and the day after he was still "talking" away, and other signs made us believe that more has changed.

All of a sudden he started keeping eye contact for longer and is looking at us with more understanding. He responds to commands, like "Climb the chair" or "Give your bear some milk." He somewhat did that before, but it wasn't consistent.

His signs are maturing. The sign for "more" has evolved into its true shape instead of just clapping his hands; the sign for "eat" has migrated from his ear back to his mouth (very handy when you need to distinguish between "eat" and "sleep"); he is doing new signs like "flower" and is clearly trying others, although they are yet indistinguishable. But most animals are still "bears," except for "duck" and "pig," which look very close to "milk" when Elijah does them.

Another change is that now when you tell him to come here, he turns around and runs in the opposite direction! It is very cute. :) He went back to crawling and walking in the "bridge" position (on his hands and feet), but now he does it just for fun, as walking has been the primary way of getting from place to place for over two months now.

As I watched him play in the piles of sorted laundry last night, I thought that he hardly fit the term "baby" any more. He no longer strikes me as one. The best way I can find to describe this latest change is a transition from babyhood to boyhood.

post Russia

The first few days of being home are always hard. It was hard to be back in our apartment, to unpack the suitcases and pull out all the gifts that my parents and my aunt gave us. They brought back memories of just a few days ago when we were still there, but now we were so far away, across the ocean, in a completely different world. To add to all this, the weather turned cold, so even the distraction of being able to be outside was taken away.

What's worse, I kept thinking about my parents, especially my father, coming back to their apartment, which only moments ago was filled with the sound of little feet running, with toys still strewn around the floor, with our tea cups still sitting on the table, reminding them of what had been, but no longer was. With my father's health being the way it is, this might have been the last time we saw each other. This thought only made things harder. I wished I could do something for them, ease their pain somehow. Yet no matter how difficult it is to part, it is still better to have come and left than to never have come. I am just thankful that my aunt didn't have to leave for another few days, so my parents weren't totally alone during those first hardest hours.

We never really transitioned to Russian time, so coming back was much easier, although we all feel tired even several days later. Elijah sleeps in in the mornings, takes long naps, wants to go to bed early, and is still acting tired throughout the day.

more pictures from Russia

Here are some more pictures from the trip, since I can only post so much in the blog and still have it look good. :)

the only regret

Despite sleepless nights we had a great trip. Running to pick up Ryan's and Elijah's visas was the most "exciting" thing we had to do, and that was OK by us! If I have any regrets, it's that the trip was so short. I am sure my parents and my aunt would have loved to have us for longer, and I could have used more time to see friends. Since I haven't seen my Dad in 3.5 years, and since our time was so limited, it was reserved exclusively for my relatives. So, for those of you reading this in Russia, do not hold it against me that I didn't call you. I would have loved to see each and every one of you, and I hope that our next visit will be long enough to do just that.

going west

We left Russia early in the morning on April 2nd, after only 4 hours of sleep that night. My mom helped watch Elijah the evening before while we packed and then came to the airport with us in the morning. Elijah was so tired that he fell asleep in my arms before we ever boarded the plane to Paris. Interestingly enough, there was no such thing as pre-boarding for passengers with young children. Nice. Elijah slept through the whole flight and only woke up when we took him out of his seat in Paris.

We had a 4 hour lay over, which stretched to almost 8 hours. Fortunately, there was plenty of space for Elijah to run around in addition to a small play area for kids his age. He didn't get most of the puzzles there, but it did occupy him for a little bit. The rest of the time we took turns chasing him as he explored the "Alcohol and Tobacco" stand and ran around signs in circles. Having gold fish crackers along was also very helpful.

He took another nap at the airport, which is unheard of in our normal life. He doesn't easily go to sleep in unfamiliar places, even if they are dark and quiet. So to fall asleep in the middle of a noisy airport could only mean one thing: the child was completely exhausted from the previous week.

Our plane was overbooked as it was spring break time in Europe. They asked for volunteers to give up their seats, and we heard that there were people trying to leave Paris stuck their since the previous Thursday. There was not a single empty seat on our plane going to Chicago. And, it turned out there was not such thing as pre-boarding in Paris either.

Once on the plane, we sat on the ground for a while. Elijah fell asleep again. After about 45 minutes or so the plane sped up ready to take off. We were about to leave the ground when the breaks came on and we were all gald to have had our seat belts on. Another plane crossed the runway as we were speeding along it. It's a scary thought, but we were all probably pretty close to dying. After this we had to refuel, the airplane had to be checked, and we had to wait for the wheels to cool down. All in all, it took over an hour before we were finally on our way to Chicago. Elijah slept through it all, and so did I for the most part.

He woke up soon after we took off and stayed awake for about 4 hours (half the trip). Through most of that time he wanted to entertain himself by pushing against the seat in front of him with his feet. Knowing how annoying it is for the person in front of him, we tried to keep him from doing it. But the only way to stop him was to rub his feet and legs. So there we were, each rubbing a foot for almost 4 hours. That was the worst part of the trip. As soon as Elijah fell asleep again, we promptly turned on our TV's, thinking that he'd only sleep for a couple of hours like he did on the way to Russia. But he slept the rest of the trip. We watched Stranger Than Fiction, and enjoyed it tremendously. Ryan even watched it twice. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it.

doors and april fools

They say a man's home is his castle. The Russian version of the saying goes "My house - my castle." I thought of it often as we made our way up to my parent's apartment each day. In order to get to it we had to pass through five doors, four of them locked, plus throw in the elevator doors for good measure.

First, there is a large iron door leading into the apartment building itself. In order to open it you have to have a magnetic key. If you don't have one, you can buzz the apartment you are going to and they will open the door for you.

Then there's an old wooden door about 3 feet from the first one. It used to be locked instead of the first one when I was growing up, but that is no longer the case. I think it's a much better idea to have the very front door locked. I remember often being nervous in that tine area between the two doors when coming home in the dark (and it gets dark in St. Petersburg very early!)

Past this second door is the elevator. After reaching the 9th floor (there are 16 total), you'll find yourself in a small area with doors to your left and to your right. The door on the left leads to a garbage chute. But it is the door to the right that is much more interesting. Once again, it is iron. On the level of a person's head there's a square opening with iron bars across it. A long time ago when crime rates in Russia soared my dad helped put this together. If I am not mistaken, the small window and the bars were his idea. Perhaps he even helped procure the actual door from the steel-rolling plant where he was working at the time. Those were the times when you couldn't just go out and buy any door you liked. If you don't have a key to unlock this door, you can buzz your hosts, but this time they'll have to come to the door to unlock it from the other side, thus the window. Past this door you'll immediately run into another one. Both are locked with dead bolts. This second one wasn't there 3.5 years ago when I last visited my parents.

Having passed this double iron "gate," you'll find yourself in a curved hallway with apartment doors on one side. Sometimes these doors will also be iron and often double, but my parents' is a single one and wooden - there's not much to steal inside. But if that is what it takes to get into a poor man's house, I can't imagine what the rich have to do.

What a contrast it was to go through all these doors and think of a single wooden door with a large window that is sufficient for so many houses in the U.S. I wanted to take pictures of them all and post them here, but by the time I finally got my act together my camera ran out of batteries.

On April 1st, as we made our way to my parents' for the last time, we were trying to come up with a joke. We finally settled on having Ryan pose as a plumber when we buzzed my parents at the very first door. As my mom answered the call, Ryan dramatically cleared his throat and said, "Plumbing service!" (in Russian.) The only thing we heard of her response was, "What plumbing service?" Then the door opened, but not because she let us in. Someone else was coming out, and we were disconnected. Usually someone would be waiting for us on the 9th floor to open the double iron doors, but when we took up the elevator, no one was there. It took a while for someone to come out even after we rang the bell. My mom told us that she had no intention of opening that first door leading into the building, because all kinds of people pretend to be a plumber and try to get in when they have no business being in the building.

I am not sure who ended up being the April fool.

russian grandmas

My mother gave my father space to be with Elijah as much as he wanted. But there were things grandpa physically couldn't do, and that's where grandma stepped in. Even though grandpa made several meals for his grandson, grandma and her sister still did most of the cooking for the rest of us. They also bathed Elijah (he got to play in the big tub for the first time!) and helped him on the playground. But their favorite was to watch him sleep, although they woke him up each time they did that. :)

russian grandpa

My father made the most of his time with Elijah. He wanted to push the stroller each time we went on a walk. He wanted to feed Elijah each time he needed to eat. He got up each morning, went to the store and then cooked so that the food was ready by the time his grandson came over. He followed Elijah everywhere to make sure he didn't stick his fingers into electric plugs or pinched them in the doors. He taught him to turn off the lights. And he loved each and every minute of our visits. Perhaps none of it sounds that impressive unless you know that my father can no longer walk very well without a cane, can't lift anything heavy, does not work, and does not cook on a regular basis. Having Elijah over even for part of the day wore my dad out so much that he (a miracle!) slept all night long while we were there.

My father chose to go by Deda, a shortened version of a more traditional dedushka, although Elijah doesn't talk yet and thus it didn't really matter. But you don't have to talk to be able to have a relationship.



The real purpose of this trip was for my father to meet Elijah. My mother came to visit us last year and she can come again any time. But my father can't handle a trip over the ocean because of his health, and thus the only way for him to see his grandson was for us to come to Russia. Interacting with a small child brought true joy to my dad. I could see it in his face. He even told my mother one evening after we left that he wasn't sure he could handle all these "positive emotions." It was a blessing to see grace poured out unto my father through a little child. Elijah didn't care about grandpa's mistakes or issues. He loved grandpa the way grandpa was, without reservation, without a second thought, the way only a child can. He broke the darkness of a broken man with the light of his blue eyes and his irresistible smile. He brought laughter and life to a man consumed by addiction, even if only for six short days. That is what I was hoping for and that is why we went, so my dad could receive grace from God through a little boy. And grandpa responded. No, he did not change. He was the same man carrying all his baggage. But his best qualities shone through. His care and love for Elijah was evident. He turned out to be a better grandpa than I ever hoped.

pancakes with cheese

Our second day in Russia we had to go pick up Ryan's and Elijah's passports. The company that was taking care of visa registrations was located on the main street, Nevsky. We were running a little late and Ryan and I had to hurry up to make it there in time. After we picked up the passports, we felt like celebrating. One of the things we wanted to make sure we did while in St. Petersburg was to eat pancakes with melted cheese inside at a place where we used to buy them during our last trip to Russia. We were very close to that place, so off we went. Sure enough, it was still there. We bought a pancake and some kvas. Ryan was hoping to eat it all by himself, but Elijah looked interested, and ended up eating quite of bit of Daddy's treat. Later that week we had more of this company's pancakes at a different location. My favorite this trip was a pancake with mushrooms and cream. Yum! Delicious!

two languages

My parents and my aunt got a kick out of the fact that Elijah understood two languages. They would ask me to say something to him in Russian, and then they would want Ryan to say the same thing in English, and each time they would be thrilled to see that Elijah responded the same way. For example, I'd ask him if he wanted more of something, and he'd sign "more". Then Ryan would ask the same thing, and he'd sign "more" again. At one point my Dad started saying Elijah's name in English and was amazed to see that he turned around and looked up at him. He did it over and over again, and Elijah kept turning around each time.

sleeping in Russia

Unlike eating, sleeping wasn't something we were able to do a whole lot. When we travel, we usually have to let Elijah sleep between us in the same bed. The first three nights Elijah would wake up in the middle of the night and want to play, because it was late afternoon in Chicago. We would pretend to be asleep, and he'd crawl all over us, coo, jabber, and show no signs of going back to sleep any time soon. Those were the times when I thought, "Why did we do this again?" When he did sleep, he was a space hog, so neither Ryan nor I were able to get very comfortable. During the day, however, he'd be really tired and often nap on our way to or from my parents. He would also nap in the stroller when we took walks, although I can't imagine that he was very comfortable doing that.

eating in Russia

Eat was something we did a lot. It all started on the plane over the Atlantic Ocean. We boarded around 5 pm and had our dinner around 7 pm. Then we had "breakfast" around midnight. Then we had a third full meal on our second flight. Thus, by the time it was morning in Chicago we have had a couple extra meals.

While in St. Petersburg, our regular eating times were so messed up that we felt hungry at odd times for just a minute or two, and I personally never felt full. We usually ate something before going to my parents, then ate a couple of times at their place, and then ate with our hosts back at the place where we slept. And let me tell you, these were no small meals. They were often several course affairs. In between the meals there was the ubiquitous tea with desert and, of course, conversation.

No matter how much you eat in Russia, your host will never be satisfied. They'll keep adding food to your plate until you are ready to pass out. And when you do pass out, they'll fill your plate again. After one of such meals I overheard my mother commenting to my aunt, "They aren't eating anything!"

The menu at my parents' was different every day, and included all my favorite dishes:

• Borsch (beat soup)
• Mushroom soup (made with dried mushrooms)
• Russian dark rye bread
• Salo (frozen salted pig fat - I haven't had any in 10 years!)
• Kvas (fermented bread drink)
• Russian salami
• Kefir (a kind of yogurt, but better :))
• Russian pancakes
• Syrniki (small pancakes made from a kind of farmer's cheese)
• Fried eggplant loaded with raw garlic
• Pelmeni (Russian dumplings)
• Pickled herring (if you ask me, it's much better than Swedish :))
• Lamb stew made in clay pots (my Dad's signature dish)
• Feijoa jam
• Buckwheat

We brought home a couple loaves of the rye bread, but I am not sharing!

bus #6

Every morning we got up and made our way from the place where we were staying to my parents' apartment. We tried the metro once, but it proved to be too difficult trying to squeeze into the train cars with a baby, two backpacks and a stroller. Fortunately, there was a bus going from where we lived almost to the door of my parents' apartment. Each morning we took the bus there, taking up the entire back row of four seats with all of our stuff. Each evening we took the bus back. And since we took the bus so often and mostly at the same times, we started recognizing the drivers. One of the drivers smoked all the time, so we hated his bus. Unfortunately, his was the bus we rode most of the time.

dogs and ducks

My parents met us at the airport together with a friend of ours Leonid Regheta (he and his wife hosted us while we were in Russia; my parents' place is too small for all of us). Once at their apartment, Ryan and Leonid took off to turn in Ryan's and Elijah's passports to be registered with the Russian authorities (required by law), while the rest of us went for a walk in the neighborhood park. It was still pretty cold in Russia. My Dad wanted to push the stroller. He's been dreaming of it ever since we started planning the trip.



Once at the park, we saw a woman walking a couple dogs. My Dad stopped and was pointing them out to Elijah, "Look, Elijah, a doggy!" Now, my father is not a big fan of diminutives. On many occasions while growing up I heard him speak against using the diminutive suffixes which abound in the Russian language. True to himself, he immediately corrected himself, "Actually, there's no need to say doggy. Just a dog. Dog. All these diminutives are unnecessary!"

A few minutes later we approached a pond. A couple of ducks we swimming in it. My Dad turned the stroller so Elijah could see, and said, "Look, Elijah, a ducky!" (He used a diminutive for "Elijah" as well). I just chuckled to myself, but didn't say anything. :)

the first surprise

Passport control held the first surprise. The officer (a woman - I've never seen a man in that position in Russia) did the most unexpected and surprising thing. If you've travelled to Russia, you'll share my amazement. She smiled at me! And no, I was not holding the baby, he'd already gone through with his Dad, so the smile was intended for me.

In addition, the customs official was friendly! Well, how about that!

going east

The trip started on Sunday evening, March 25th. After a quick lunch, final packing, and a half-an-hour search for Elijah's sippy cup, we were off to the airport. We each had a seat, as Elijah is too big for the bassinet (known as the skycot) provided by Air France for children under two years of age. We did not want to hold Elijah on our laps the whole time, so we had to pay up and get him a seat. We were hoping to be seated in the front row so that he wouldn't kick the back of the seat in front of him, and so that he could stand a little if he got tired of sitting in his car seat. It turned out that those front seats are pretty much impossible to get even if you are flying with a baby, although all the airline agents I spoke with before the flight assured me that they are reserved for people like us. Yeah, right. After having been stuck in the middle of a plane both ways, and a couple adventures during lay overs in Paris, Air France has ceased to be our favorite airline.

Elijah normally doesn't go to sleep easily unless he is in his crib. The trip to Russia was no exception. Instead of going to "bed" around 6 pm as he would at home, he didn't fall asleep for a while. He ate dinner shortly after we boarded, and then signed that he was ready to go to sleep. We confirmed with signs and words that it indeed was time to sleep and Daddy even sang our regular night time song into his ear. However, it turned out that when Elijah signs "sleep," he means something like, "Take me to my crib, lay me down, turn off the lights, and leave me in a quiet room." He continued to sign "sleep" and look at us inquiringly for several hours.

At some point during this exchange of "sleep" sign, when Elijah seemed ready to actually fall asleep, our dinner arrived. He smelled the food and wanted us to share. We did. He liked the chick peas. But the second dinner gave him extra energy and it wasn't until 9 pm that he actually fell asleep. In the meantime, he happily cooed, played with his feet, and played a French version of "peek-a-boo" with the flight attendant, who had a 15-months old at home.

Once Elijah fell asleep, Ryan and I turned on a movie and watched "Casino Royale." As soon as the movie was over, Elijah went into the REM phase of sleep. He tried to get comfortable, arched his back, realized that he was strapped in, opened his eyes, saw the dark airplane, and... SCREAMED. He screamed for quite a while. A few minutes into it I picked him up and walked towards the bathrooms where there was a little more space to stand and move around. The area freaked him out. He screamed louder. After about half and hour he calmed down enough for us to return to our seats. He then sat and eventually fell asleep in my lap, while the car seat happily continued the journey empty, occupying the expensive spot we paid for that no longer carried its intended passenger. Elijah slept for the rest of the trip, while flight attendants went by and pointed him out to each other. No surprises here, he is adorable when he is asleep. :)

Our layover in Paris was only an hour long, so we hurried to get to our next plane. If you've ever had to switch planes in Paris, you'll know that you have to take a bus to go from one terminal to the other. Not my favorite. Standing in line with a squirmy kid in my arms for 40 minutes to get through security wasn't my favorite either. Neither was dealing with an overtired child for the first hour and a half of the flight to St. Petersburg. Fortunately, he fell asleep and slept for the second half of the plane ride.

And so it goes that we landed in St. Petersburg around 3 pm on Monday, March 26th. All of our luggage made the transfer during the one hour layover in Paris.

best russia trip ever

We are back on the west side of the Atlantic ocean after a whirlwind of a trip to Russia and back. We were on the ground for full six days. During some uncertainty before the trip, we would joke and say to each other that this trip has a potential to be our best Russia trip ever. That wouldn't be too had since our last two trips were mostly a disaster, so things could only get better. (The first time all of Ryan's money was stolen the first day after our arrival, and the second trip is known as "the passports adventure" or, more accurately, "the passports nightmare", but I don't want to dwell on that here). And our best Russia trip ever it was! But, let's take it in order.