Left Coast Cowboys

When you are The World’s Most Beautiful Baby, one party is not enough to celebrate your birth. Thursday was the Family Only celebration, today was the friends celebration. And we’re already talking about having an “official birthday” much like the British monarch always has a birthday celebration in June, no matter which month they’re born in.

One observation I can make from this party is that little Amelia May has definitely inherited the Social Gene from her mother and grandmother. Those gals can work a room and Amelia May, at the tender age of one, is right up there with them. Dad is a reserved Englishman who is more comfortable mixing drinks than schmoozing guests, so it’s clear where this gene came from.

Another thing I learned: there is a huge gulf between the enthusiastic amateur and the professional photographer. Check out these photos from our Flickr buddies. All I can say is “Kids, don’t try this at home.” When I saw Patty and Martin whip out their cameras, I put mine away and bowed to the Masters. I am not worthy.

Check this picture by Martin Taylor. If Caravaggio had a camera, this is the picture he would take.

How about the layering and deep inner meaning of this one:

Copyright: PJ Taylor Photography

It was one year ago today that my little Goddaughter Amelia May was born. (Read about all the drama here which included me assisting. Not with the birth, but with a near-fainting father.) Today we celebrate her first birthday. And it’s appropriate to reflect on the most surprising aspect of having a baby in your life. They teach you more than you teach them.

Just a sampling of things I’ve learned from Amelia May. Not just in the last year, but in the last day!

If you are deficient in something (like teeth), just work what you have. No one will notice.

Speaking of "working it". You can save almost any situation by throwing your hands in the air and declaring a party.

Any outfit is enhanced with cute undergarments.

Cell phones are really fun toys.

Dad's shoe horn is an excellent light saber.

You can't have too many stuffed toys. This one's from her English Nan.

Stay hydrated!

You'll always look pulled together if you stick with your signature color. (Amelia's is Pink.)

Enhance all social situations with Champagne, even if you can't drink it. (Extra points if the bubbly is in your signature color.)

Any birthday cake worth eating is worth rubbing in your hair.

And just keep smiling! It lights up the room.

If you are not not prone to insulin shock, here’s the complete set of pix from Amelia May’s birthday.

On first being asked to be Godfather and Godmother to The World’s Most Beautiful Baby, Andy and I were thrilled. Then came the fear, the doubt, the uncertainty. What exactly do Godparents do? I vaguely remember reading something about “being responsible for the child’s religious upbringing.” But isn’t that really the parents’ job? Besides, I’m an unrepentant Literature Major. The only way I could teach religion would be comparatively. And while I do have all my old college textbooks, it will be years before I can instruct Amelia May on the finer points of the original Hebrew text of the Old Testament and the more flowery King James version. Besides, if I go down that road, the next thing you know, I’ll be pointing out all the religious references in Ulysses, especially in the bar and sex scenes. Who knows where that would lead?

No, I prefer to think of Godparents as occupying somewhat the same zone as Grandparents. All the fun of childrearing with none of the real responsibility. We get to gush over her every little act without the constraint of context, reality or scale. For instance, I can show you this picture where Amelia mastered “The Smooshy Laugh”:

And I can tell you, without a hint of irony, that this is proof she qualifies for a Rhodes Scholarship.

I should also note that this amazing acheivement absolutely proves her intellectual superiority over all other babies ever born.

As Godparents, we also get to dispense sugary snacks and toys that overexcite. Then not worry about her bedtime. Because that’s the parents’ job. No, none of the hard work of parenting for us. Just the fun. Just like the time we were in Vegas and Amelia’s mom left her in my care while she ran down to the spa for a facial. Amelia had a wet diaper, but did I change it? No, that’s what hotel towels are for. Off with the diaper, wrap her in terry cloth then back to watching those cartoons.

Which brings me to the key Ultimate Godparent gift: A PONY!

Okay, maybe it's a little early for her to ride given that she hasn't learned to walk yet. So let's say Old Paint here is a starter mount.

Walking or not, she knew just what to do. She started hoisting herself right up into the saddle.

YIPPY KAY YAAAAAAAY!

And git along little dogies!

So that’s what Godparents do. Except for dispensing sage advice.

“Take the Cannoli”.

Girls Weekend in Vegas! And one of us is so young, she completely skews the median age of our group to about 15. Yes, we’re taking The World’s Most Beautiful Baby to Vegas. I’m calling it part of my duties as Godmother to oversee her spiritual and cultural development. Because, with a British father, Little Amelia May needs a few huge doses of American culture to remind her where the other half of her roots are.

First thing you learn about traveling with babies, it’s a bit like traveling First Class. You automatically get jumped to the beginning of every line with a full complement of staff to help you. When you are traveling with The World’s Most Beautiful Baby, the service is even more attentive. I’m thinking of adopting Calvin Trillin’s ploy for improving service: referring to her, as he did to his wife Alice, as “The Principessa”.

Who knew traveling with a baby gets you special treatment? It's like First Class without the price.

Our flight was ridiculously early — 7AM — which necessitated getting up and out by 5AM. Not a problem. When you are traveling with a baby, you can always schedule naptime. After an early check-in, I had a great 3 hour nap. Amelia May? Wide awake and demanding to be perambulated around the Luxor lobby for hours greeting her fans.

Unfortunately, I can’t document this with pictures as the Luxor, alone among all the casinos seems to think Tiger Woods, or someone else who doesn’t want to be photographed, will be lurking in the lobby. There is absolutely NO photography anywhere in any public spaces here.

So our first activity was rolling down the strip to see the neon. We walked from the Luxor down to Bellagio, which seemed like miles, given that every mega hotel on the Strip seems to take up ten New York blocks. This is when Amelia decided to take her nap, but that didn’t stop every street vendor, every Elvis impersonator and every Casino floor boss from remarking what a beautiful baby she is. Move over Celine, step away Cher, Amelia May is in town and she’s the new Queen of the Strip.

Reading hieroglyphics at the Luxor.

When you are a big girl, you get a whole drawer of your own.

Everywhere on the Strip, hustlers and billboards were advertising "Hot Babes that come to your room in 20 minutes". No thanks, already have one.

By the time we got to Bellagio's Botanical Garden display, Amelia was so OVER The Strip. Such a shame to be so jaded at such a young age.

We walked and walked until The Strip turned from day to neon-tinged night.

Then you end your day at a fancy restaurant. Mmmmm. Creamed squash.

For more pictures of Day One, click on my Flickr pix. But I’m warning you. They aren’t very good. First of all, it takes five Sherpas to haul all the stuff a baby needs for a perambulation down The Strip and there were only two of us trying to juggle everything and tack pictures. Plus, the string hasn’t been pulled taut enough on the two tin cans that make up the Internet at this hotel. After an hour, I can’t upload any more.

Today the mother of The World’s Most Beautiful Baby had a full day scheduled, so Amelia May came to our house for the day. Which was good. I’ve got a big Spanish test on Thursday and could use a study partner. So the plan was to listen to the conjugation of regular Spanish verbs. Clearly, that would be as entertaining as Winnie the Pooh. Things started fine with the audio portion of my class material. Then I put on a little Mariachi music to get us both in the mood.

Interesting note: did you know it’s possible to send a baby into sensory overload in less than ten minutes? Apparently Mariachi music, Spanish verbs, ceiling fans, new surroundings, being bounced up and down in the Baby Bjorn and the addition of two yapping terriers is enough to send a baby into meltdown. But there were smiles soon through the tears and we got through Chapter Three of my Spanish text book with a few breaks for poems from Now We are Six.

Well, that’s Baby taken care of. Then Mom returned, tripped over the sidewalk outside and sprained her ankle. More tears. In retrospect, we should have applied Mariachi music and Winnie the Pooh poems.

Spanish irregular verbs are hard!

But the workbook is tasty.

Sometimes the audio exercises can bring you to tears.

But Mariachi music can always bring back the smiles.