Maya's introduction to the Class o' 23

After less than a year in the comparative bliss of temperate San Francisco, my system seemingly lost its memory of high humidity. So it's only fair that Boston's collective humidity yesterday was somewhere around 140%. For me, it was a sweaty mess - I wore a running hat throughout the day to keep the sweat from pouring off my shaved head to cascade into the various buffet dishes arrayed around a full day of partying with friends and family. But for Maya, the drastic change in climate didn't seem to matter much. Maybe that's the beauty of having a system just barely outside of that "fourth tri-mester" for a newborn. She looked a bit flush, but it rarely resulted in cries of distress or discomfort. Much less than those offered by her Dad, to be sure. Or maybe she didn't even notice given all the new and vaguely familiar faces pressing themselves into her frame of reference. She's low on sleep, but high on new experiences.

Such as the amazing fact (which to non-parents probably sounds like uncalled for overstatement, I'm aware) that she rolled over yesterday for the first time. TWICE. Yes, yes - call the NYTimes, we've got a new banner headline. But if you've got kids and you're obsessively soaking in all the new wonders like we are, this one hints at moments of future greatness that will further surpass the skills of a legless pet. We didn't actually even see the first flip, but Grandma Phyllis (Nanna) was doing some "tummy time" with Maya and in no time she'd (Maya not Nanna) flipped over to her right. We were gleefully alerted and Maya was reset...and then she repeated the feat to her left. Stunning, yet true. So we've got a flipper, folks.

Best of all for both Maya and Sarah, a trio of college roomies who all have started families within the last year brought their pride-and-joys into the mix for an afternoon gab session and lactation scrum. One boy and three lit'l ladies. The pictures of the foursome of babies are priceless. Although all offers are being accepted. And then the day segwayed into a grad party for Grandpa Elliot and his fellow charming overachievers. Great bunch of folks. Not a single drunken brawl (seen) all evening. That's what you get for inviting a passel of diplomats, I suppose.

So our last full day in Beantown will be largely hangin' with the whole famn damily. Eating leftovers. Sweating profusely. And loving the chance to do so together. Still no pics up - my apologies. But I think I've got what I need for the right link later today. Please check back. Rock on.