I used to jokingly call Anthony ‘the missing link’ (as in the scientic term for something that is somewhere between an ape and a human), and Ming, ‘the alien’ because when he was born he so resembled ET (remember that movie?) This picture shows you why….
It was January, one of the hottest months of the year in Australia, when we brought our little alien home from hospital. As neither of us had ever had a baby before, I remember Anthony driving us all home at a snail’s pace, terrified that every bump in the road would somehow injure the baby in the back of the car in an oversized baby seat. I sat in the back next to Ming, watching him sleep and beside myself with excitement that he would soon be home with us.
Those next few days were bliss. Ming would mostly sleep and Anthony and I would spend hours just looking at him in his bassinet. As soon as Anthony came inside from milking the cows he would go straight to Ming and gaze at him. We were both in awe of him and the delight was almost overwhelming. Our smiles stretched our faces in ways they’d never been stretched before.
We were ridiculously proud and couldn’t believe it when others didn’t gasp in wonder when they saw Ming. When I finally got brave enough to take him grocery shopping with me, I was astounded when we were not surrounded by crowds of admiring people, and relieved when grannies came up and stroked his bald head, smiling at my permanent grin.
The ecstacy of those first few weeks of Ming’s life was so potent that I can still smell it now – the flowers in the garden, the pooey nappies, the mown grass, the perspiration under Anthony’s arms, steak cooking on the barbecue, the milky burps, the softness of that bald little head, the cowshit scent, wafting into the house from the dairy, the frangipannish sunlight streaming into every room, the little dachschunds as I held them above Ming’s bassinet so they could have a look, and Inna’s 4711 perfume that I found in a drawer during that first week.
Perfection.
jmgoyder 
I love this blog.. I love this story… and the author is a wonderful person… never met her but damn her story makes you feel as though you have… Thank you I addressed this to a third party because I just fell as though I know you… all your history and heartaches.. love this blog and its author.. Hugs…
I can’t believe how great you are to me – thanks bulldog!
nice love story…. 🙂
Thank you very much!
Gorgeous … Ming looks like a little doll in that pic … I love the use of smell to describe the experience – it’s very powerful. I was just like that when we brought our newborn home from hospital too … and wouldn’t take the baby outside for the first couple of weeks incase he got ‘contaminated or something’.
I wonder if “The smell of cow dung wafting in from the dairy” might be a little less of a shock than cow shit scent! Just wondering 🙂
Oh! see what you mean about cowshit but too late now – ha!
HA!
Smell is the best trigger for memories 😉
Yes, I hadn’t realized this before.
another beautiful story!
Thx!!
It’s good to hear someone acknowledge that all the smells can be potent memories and not necessarily “bad.” men’s sweat, pooey diapers, and cowshit, for example. Bravo.! A good barn smell isn’t offensive to everyone…. Loved to share this memory with you today.
During my unrequited love years in Perth I would occasionally smell a truck full of cows+cowshit travelling through Perth and I would nearly die of joy and nostalgia!
Julie after I had my kids and people would ask what the baby looked like I always responded, “A cross between E.T. and a raisin.” Love reading you describe Ming looking like E.T.!
Haha – so I am not the only one who had an ET (not sure about the raisin!)
some things just are perfect
Yes indeed!
what proud parents you have shown me through your words. Ming is a lucky man to have u as parents
Lovely post.
I so agree with bulldog (who I also adore and love) 🙂 You have made a home in all our hearts Julie…. you are special!!
This post is amazing…. we also called my first-born daughter ET when she came home!! She had a ‘cone head’ as after my 23 hour labor and inducing meds – they had to vacuum her out of me :)!! I so relate your mentioning how all the memories are still fresh and alive from that time. Was thinking the same thing just the other day ~ and called her to tell her (in another state – 1st real-life post-college job teaching English to underprivileged middle-school children). These memories are forever ~ What a photo this is!! xo
Sorry to have taken so long to reply – busy day. How wonderful that your daughter has that job – is she ET?
ET stands for ?? xo
She’s part of a program called “Teach For America” — it’s interesting ….http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/12/education/12winerip.html
Was a religion and philosophy major 🙂 xo
Oh – thank you!!!
What is ET though? She is sort of in “boot-camp” right now… it’s a very intense program – she trained all summer and is just getting her students now. Should be interesting. Miss her – she’s a plane ride away (Florida) 😦
Love the photo …. It’s so lovely – utterly sweet. They are so safe in each other.
I have a similar pic of the Cap’n with Dimples. There is nothing sweeter than seeing a father and child blissfully together, is there?
I can see your photo in my mind!
This made me think back to when my precious first born KathyLee was a baby she was so beautiful and I loved watching her sleep…………but you know what sucked was there was this one day I was waiting to catch the bus and this old woman came up and said to me is it a boy or a girl……………she was wearing a pretty pink dress with a bow in her hair…………lol
That is hilarious!
i love every bit of cowshit on this page! and yes…the scent is the trigger for me. smells and music…they bring back my life layer by layer. i’m loving this new mom and new dad…it’s so ‘stinkin’ real!
xo
You are so right about music! If I hear an old tune, I swoon with nostalgia.
Moo Too! 🙂
You are so beautiful… and I love your writing and your stories and your photographs… Life and love through your eyes… through your beautiful heart/soul. Blessing and Happiness dear Julie, Thanks and Love, nia