Aye, there's the rub

It's amazing. Not five seconds in his arms, resting on his chest and hearing him coo 'In My Room' by the Beach Boys (that song does it like no other), and little Tzofia melts into the comfort zone. While I can always rely on the 'fountain's to calm her down, Harry's got some super knack for it. He sings her great songs - REM, the Cure, and the Ramones - and rocks her (literally) like no other. Me? I head for the cheesier for some reason: showtunes (Little Shop of Horrors) and 80s (Air Supply and Chicago). We laughed that if a giant cradled you in his arms, you'd feel safe and warm, too. But I think it's beyond that. To Tzofi, her Daddy is one big Teddy Bear replete with an awesome soundtrack and Howard Stern-esque humor (adapted however inappropriately for a baby, of course). And her Mommy is a singing, flamboyant cow udder - cheese and chopped liver included. I'll take it for now because it works. And because Fiddler on the Roof is on TV this afternoon. So Harry, enjoy your first day back at work, we'll be ok at home. After all, who needs the Beatles when we've got Topol!

In the Name of the Baby

It's interesting how nicknames evolve. At first, Ziva was slighly confused and would accidently refer to the baby as Nooshnoosh, which is one of the dozen nicknames we have for our dog Noonie. Others include Noonster, Nooniepoons, Poopoos, Noonoo, and my personal favorite, Noonie Poopins. I believe the source of this confusion has something to do with the "post-partum hormones are all over the place" syndrome. Now that two weeks have passed since Tzofia's birth, Ziva has finally settled on an original nickname for the little tyke. These days Ziva is calling her Bobo. I'm not quite sure where Bobo came from, but at least Noonie can feel special once again.

Now what about me? I've had a nickname for her ever since she was in the womb. It's a fun name that evokes both prestige and degredation. I deemed her Princess Poopie Pants. It's quite fitting, trust me.

Parklife

We thought it would be a nice idea to take full advantage of the beautiful weather yesterday and take a short trip to one of the local parks. While this photo looks quite quaint, Tzofia was pretty much hysterical the entire time. She's just like her dad in that she doesn't like leaving the house. We'll have to work on that.

A visit from Safta

Just over 48 hours after Tzofia was born and Safta landed in Israel to welcome her newest grandchild. Laden with gifts - used and new (special thanks to Auntie Terri and Uncle Evie, Ula, Olive and Abel for the hand-me-downs and to cousin Goldie for the knit blanket) - Safta spent the week entertaining Tzofi, walking Noonie and Rubin, seeing her friends and, most important, helping us with our big adjustment. And although she didn't cook, Safta sure ordered some excellent take out and stocked us for weeks to come. We miss you already, Safta, and can't wait to see you again soon.

Why the name Tzofia Reevi...

We knew as soon as Ziva was pregnant that we somehow wanted to name the baby after her father who died three years ago after a long and painful struggle with pancreatic cancer. His name was Jack (Ya'acov) and we didn't exactly like the sound of Ya'acova for our little girl, so we decided to get a bit creative. We quickly decided on the name Tzofia for several reasons.

Tzofia in Hebrew means "looking onward" or "looking toward." Tzofia connotes optimism and hope, and we believe it conveys the way Jack lived his life - always looking on the bright side of life, viewing the glass always half full and always taking on challenges with an unmeasurable amount of positive energy and enthusiasm. Jack could always be relied upon for encouragement and positivity and we hope these wonderful attributes live on in our daughter.

Tzofia is also from the Hatikva, Israel's national anthem.

עין לציון צופיה

Ayin L'tzion Tzofia (An eye still watches toward Zion...)

Little Tzofia is the first sabra of our family and we are unapologetic Zionists, so we thought the name was a nice fit and it's nice to express our love of Israel through our daughter.

Her second name, Reevi, is after Ziva's aunt Reeva who died two months ago after her life was cut short by a terminal disease. Reeva was "the cool Aunt" who had a tremendous amount of influence on Ziva growing up. I'd like to share a small paragraph from a speech that Ziva wrote and that read at Reeva's funeral.

Aunt Reeva always opened my eyes to new and exciting ideas. For my Bat Mitzvah, Aunt Reeva took me around NY for the day. We went to brunch downtown, the MoMA and a Broadway play. Walking around the museum, we had a heated discussion on 'What is Art?' Though I was all of 12 - and without any of the Art History degrees I later acquired - Aunt Reeva listened and challenged me. She let me pick the play and so we went to Starlight Express, which I imagine wasn't on Reeva's list of 'must see theater'. A few years ago, when I met Reev at the new MoMA for a reunion tour of the new galleries, we laughed about how I enjoyed the rollerskating play about trains and the MoMA equally - my own clash of high and low-brow culture. Perhaps my taste was just ahead of my time, I said. "No one I'm related to can have taste that bad, Ziv," she laughed.

We can only hope that Tzofia Reevi will live her life with the positivity, optimism, open mindedness, creativity, humor and love of life that Ziva's dad and aunt did.