IMR: 1998: February: 06 -- Friday, 9:58 p.m.
Parking Structure, Univ. of Hawai`i, Hawai`i
Well, my plan to be a good daddy -- staying up with Katie to give mommy and grandma (that'd be Jen and mom) a few extra hours of shut-eye -- backfired.
I turned in at about 3 a.m., and when the alarm went off at 5:30 a.m., every cell in my body took a strike vote and unanimously decided to walk off the job until working conditions improved.
So, I slept in. Straight through Hawaiian and Magazine Writing (note to myself: no more picking on others for bad attendance). I didn't get to campus until 9:30 a.m., when I was supposed to start at AIB.
Before heading to work, though, I decided to stop by my Hawaiian teacher's office in Spalding to drop off my homework. And it's a good thing I did. I missed a quiz this morning, but was allowed to take it anyway.
Work was work. We're up to put out the first newsletter of 1998, with dozens of ads still on their way despite the Feb. 1 deadline.
Kory was there. With her growing nursing duties at Queen's, I hadn't seen her in a while. I got a chance to thank her for her baby present, left the day before in my office mailbox: a pink "Baby Dior" onesie. Katie's first, but probably not her last, designer outfit.
That's something, actually. The gifts are still coming. It's humbling.
Last week, Jenny -- the struggling student welfare mother profiled in the last issue of the 'Venue -- gave Jen and I a pretty rattle and gift-wrapped a package of diapers. Yesterday, feeling her first gift was inadequate, she gave us two infant outfits.
When I went to the apartment this afternoon, our neighbor Brandie (who already gave us a huge pile of clothes) left a stack of parenting magazines on our doorstep. Sadly, her note said she'd be moving out come Valentine's Day.
We also got a package from Jen's aunt Judy. For Jen and I, a "wedding Barbie" Christmas tree ornament, and for Katie, a rattle and two heavy fleece outfits. It probably won't see much use here in Hawai`i, but it's the thought that counts.
Fortunately, Jen somehow managed to write all our little thank you cards today. They're not much, but we desperately need to acknowledge the countless blessings we've seen these last few months. We still have to get the reprints of Katie's first baby pictures and send them out, too.
This evening we were trying to watch the opening ceremonies of the 1998 Winter Olympics in Nagano, Japan. From what I've seen, they're going very solemn and low key... at least compared to the Pentium-commercial-esque antics of the Calgary ceremonies in 1994.
I said "trying" because Katie's been unusually fussy. Overall, she's a wonderful, thoughtful, quiet and mellow baby, so the few fits she's thrown tonight stand out. Not screaming, but not sleeping much, either.
She demands attention, or perhaps more likely, motion. I probably walked a mile with her, back and forth in the living room. Little things quiet her, though. The sink disposal, the dishwasher (though the rinse/drain cycle is disconcerting), the washing machine.
She's also been eating ravenously, so Jen and I suspect she's in the midst of a growth spurt.
I swear she's already starting to look like a little girl. I know it's impossible to know by looks the sex of most babies at two weeks, but somehow, I think Katie's already got feminine traits.
And I don't care what William says... she can and does smile. Says so right here in this magazine, too. It's just mimicking our faces, though, not in response to the many jokes I tell her.
Right now, Jen and I are taking it easy in the family room, thus displacing Todd and temporary boarder Ya Chi (yep, it's a regular youth hostel here) to the living room for their card game.
Jen's cuddling a sleeping Katie on the old rocking chair -- a rocking chair I remember from my earliest days -- breaking our daughter's strict, weeklong diet of Mozart and Brahms with the Journey box set.
Just got an announcement in the mail from dad for grandma Ozawa's 90th birthday dinner on Feb. 28. L'Uraku Restaurant on Kapi`olani Boulevard, and quite a menu (for $20 a head). Looks like it'll be Katie's first formal introduction to that side of the family.
I called dad and invited him up here to visit Katie on Sunday, since he and grandma haven't had much of a chance to see her. They came to the hospital on Saturday, but Katie was in the midst of various tests and both her and Jen weren't quite prepared for guests.
It was then that he revealed that he'd been following my life through this online journal for a while now.
Not that In Medias Res was secret, nor hard to find, but in the tradition of these increasingly popular personal outpourings I wasn't exactly encouraging family to stop by and read.
So, thanks to me, he now knows Todd's not in school. Lord knows what other not-well-publicized facts have been or will be uncovered.
I also already have my first touch of friction, apparently stemming from my entry for New Year's Day.
While I hate for these writings to get self-referential, such a development is a pivotal moment for web diaries. It means a bumpy period of adjustment, wherein I wrestle with self-censorship and the audience issue while people close to me -- more and more every week, I'm sure -- have to deal with occasionally reading something that rubs them the wrong way.
I really ought to offer something more comprehensive than an inadequate disclaimers page.
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|© Ryan Kawailani Ozawa · E-Mail: email@example.com · Created: 6 February 1998 · Last Modified: 9 February 1998|