Tomorrow, you will be one year old.
On your third night of life, you reduced me to tears because I couldn't get you to wake up and eat. Tears! I have never been so tired in my entire life. I was even a surgery intern, once upon a time, I'm very familiar with exhaustion. So congratulations, you have superior exhaustive powers.
You started out as "Peabody," but your dad calls you "Little Bear," which seems more appropriate considering that you are so wild. You are willing to be held, but you are not amenable to cuddling. You do not tolerate meditative mother-daughter periods, and even our bedtime rituals are all-business. Sometimes, however, when you aren't quite ready to go to sleep, you reject my arms, and demand your father's. Sometimes a girl just needs her daddy, you see.
You have more facial expressions than a mime. I literally feel sad sometimes that my eyes are not cameras, because I will catch glimpses of you in positions or in lighting that breaks my heart with your perfection, and I want to share those moments with everyone. However, you rarely hold still long enough for pictures, because you are constantly on the go. Sometimes you flash this silly, adorable, toothy grin that makes you look like a demented bunny, and your dad thinks it's really funny when you frown, because apparently you look just like me. When your brother walks into a room, you watch him so expectantly, knowing that sooner or later, he will do something hilarious, and you will laugh uproariously. The first time you laughed, I thought I would die of joy.
When you were just starting to babble, you would stare at completely blank walls and hold entire conversations. So, I'm fairly certain that you see angels. And yet, you can be more than a little devilish, like when you cried all the way to Kansas City. Your brother wanted to give you away that day. And your dad wasn't far behind. Most of the time, though, you are easygoing and cheerful, which is something you definitely did not inherit through the maternal line. You have also inherited your father's need to explore, however, which is not something an infant needs. You scared me so badly the other night when I thought you were about to swallow something you shouldn't have. So badly that I cried from relief because you were still safe.
You love being in water, which I think is funny, because your favorite lullaby is "Baby Beluga". When we brought you to the river for the Fourth of July fireworks, you were so overstimulated and tired that I thought we would have to leave, but I started singing that song to you and you were instantly calm, like I had thrown a life preserver to someone drowning. You dance, and you bang on the piano, and you are mesmerized by your Papa playing the guitar. I think you were born with music inside of you.
We seek out and celebrate all of your milestones with such fervor: first smile, rolling over, sitting up, crawling. I rejoice when you learn something new, like the first day you signed or when you copy a sound after your brother demonstrates. And yet, I hate that you are growing up, that you aren't the same little freakishly loud, wrinkly-old-man infant we brought home one year ago. I would freeze time to keep you from changing, because I love every single moment with you and cannot bear for any of the moments to be over.
One time, before you were born, I dreamed that you were not mine, that you existed, but I could not have you. So I thank God every day when I wake, when you are and that I do.
Happy birthday, little bear.
My slightly-insane life and times
10/3/13
8/20/13
Mom Rage
I was reading an article this evening about the recent measles outbreak in Texas, and the part about how some of the ill patients were those who could not yet be vaccinated (i.e. poor, defenseless, sweet, innocent babies) struck a chord. Obviously, consideration for people who cannot be vaccinated (which includes poor, defenseless, sweet, innocent children with cancer and other immunosuppressed states) is something those of us who believe in vaccines usually cite as an argument for our side, but I'd never thought of it in such stark reference to my own, too-young-to-get-a-measles-vaccine daughter.
I believe in the right of parents to be fully educated about vaccines, and if you choose not to vaccinate despite that education, our country's laws allow that. However, please then keep your child away from my children, out of common courtesy. Also, because with most illnesses, you become infectious before you're symptomatic (which is how so many people in Texas got exposed...), and because it's impossible for me to fully disinfect every surface that my children might ever touch, that also means stay out of public. I'm serious.
I can't even imagine how I would feel if my daughter were exposed to a preventable and potentially fatal disease by someone who chose not to get their child vaccinated. I was telling my husband this, and he laughingly said "Would your 'mom rage' come out?" And the answer is yes. You may have the right to not get vaccinated, but then I would have the right to let my mom rage out. And it is ugly. Consider yourselves forewarned...
8/1/13
Heroics
Today, when we went to the mall, E offered to push Peabody's stroller through the parking lot. He firmly instructed me to "walk on the outside" to protect her from moving vehicles and said he would protect her on the other side. I reminded him to watch carefully for cars that were backing out, since they would hit his sister first, and he replied "I know. You know, I've always wanted to do something heroic and I've never had the opportunity. But most of the time, I'm glad no one has ever needed me to be heroic."
He is so sweet it hurts my soul. And I'm sure all mothers of small boys think the same thing...
4/20/13
Books and Brilliance
My conversations with E:
"What was your bad thing that happened today?"
"Well, a lot of sad things happened in my book, so that was bad."
"What kind of sad things?"
"Mom! I can't tell you, I'd ruin it for you! I really want you to read it, I think you'd enjoy it."
"Oh, ok. What do you like about it?"
"I like the way you can see the things it's talking about. {sigh} Don't you just love how books can transform your world?"
"Why is gas so expensive? Oh, wait, I know, it's because it's so difficult to obtain. Did you know that in the year 2745 we're going to run out of coal, gas and all our resources? I hope I don't like a miracle life and live to see that, because that will be a sad day."
"Well, we've got several hundred years, maybe we'll figure something else out before then."
"That would take a brilliant scientist."
"That's true. Maybe that brilliant scientist could be you!"
"No way, mom. There's no way that I could be that 1 in 1000 scientists that would be that brilliant."
"Why not?"
"Well, I've only had two good ideas my whole life, and both of them already existed..."
"What was your bad thing that happened today?"
"Well, a lot of sad things happened in my book, so that was bad."
"What kind of sad things?"
"Mom! I can't tell you, I'd ruin it for you! I really want you to read it, I think you'd enjoy it."
"Oh, ok. What do you like about it?"
"I like the way you can see the things it's talking about. {sigh} Don't you just love how books can transform your world?"
"Why is gas so expensive? Oh, wait, I know, it's because it's so difficult to obtain. Did you know that in the year 2745 we're going to run out of coal, gas and all our resources? I hope I don't like a miracle life and live to see that, because that will be a sad day."
"Well, we've got several hundred years, maybe we'll figure something else out before then."
"That would take a brilliant scientist."
"That's true. Maybe that brilliant scientist could be you!"
"No way, mom. There's no way that I could be that 1 in 1000 scientists that would be that brilliant."
"Why not?"
"Well, I've only had two good ideas my whole life, and both of them already existed..."
2/7/13
Crunching Numbers
Today, I present an oversharing post on budgeting. Now, as I've already made (hopefully) clear, our family is that of the one-income variety. And I'm still in residency, so the pay, while it's obviously more than I've ever made in my life, and is more than a lot of people make, isn't a whole lot for a family of 4 with a mortgage. So this is how we do it.
For some background, when D & I were in college, we were pretty poor. I was a single mom in college by the grace of an academic scholarship and he was a college student in the work-study program. In med school, I suddenly was blessed with a stipend through a different scholarship. D had a grown-up job by then, made a heck of a lot of money, and wasn't at home often enough to spend very much. When we got married, we both through budgetary concerns out the window, bought whatever we wanted, and ate out almost every night. It's not healthy to have a lot of money when you're very young, by the way. You become greedy and you waste a lot of things. That changed when we decided to live on my income only, and budgeting became much more important. It's even more of a factor now that we have 2 children, and a house payment. So let's dig in.
First off, I went through our bills and factored up the average cost of every single thing we spent money on. Car payment? Put it on the budget. Water bill? Budget for it. Clothing? Unless you want to be naked... Gas money? Can't walk everywhere in this town, so you'd better have money if you don't intend to take the bus. Even incidentals have to be accounted for. For instance, I noticed that for various reasons over several months, we were spending about $100/month on car maintenance (oil changes, new tires, windshield wipers, whatever). That had to go on the budget, too. I also calculated how much we were spending on our credit cards every month. This all went into a nice pretty spreadsheet with formulas and labels and everything.
Then, I figured out how much I get paid per month through various sources, did some addition and subtraction and voila! I know how much money I can spend. At the beginning, the numbers in the income bracket were a heck of a lot lower than the ones in the spending column. So then I went through and decided what we did and didn't need. Cable was unnecessary, so it went. Eating out is not only expensive, it's bad for the waistline, so that wasn't too hard of a sacrifice. Home decor changes and upgrades had to be put on hold, for the most part. A car payment was too high, so the car was traded in (much to my husband's chagrin, and I've promised to make it up to him with a much nicer car when I get real money, so hold me to it, Blogosphere). I even negotiated our internet bill down by about $15/month. We stick to a grocery budget now, which prevents me from being brainwashed into purchasing a bunch of junk from the pretty displays at Target. I look at our bills every month and make sure that we're allocating money where it needs to go, and that none of the numbers have changed without me noticing.
The next step, once you've balanced your budget and it's going at a steady rate, is money goals. I keep a list of goals at the bottom of my budget spreadsheet. It includes short-term goals, like "pay hospital bills" and long-term goals, like "pay student loans". Other examples of goals could be saving up for a vacation, saving for a new baby ;-), saving for that beautiful couch you saw last weekend, paying off a car loan, paying off a credit card bill, you get the picture.
At first, we had to tap into some of our savings, which was a bit of a downer, but now we're able to save a little bit every month, so I feel better about it. We also haven't had to touch D's retirement fund or stock from his old job, so we still have a lot saved up for a rainy day. Although our grocery budget is tighter now, we definitely don't have to worry about paying for food. We've just changed what we do with the food we get. I eat leftovers now (something I grew up doing, so I'm not sure how I started thinking it was such an undesirable habit). E had to finish the breakfast foods we had before I'd buy more breakfast cereal. It sounds so simple and commonsense, but see my statement above, about how we got careless. We both come from families that are careful with their money, so we had no excuse other than the fact that we went straight from almost no money to too much money.
As far as how this impacts our kiddos, one of them is too young to care/notice (and her food source is free...). For E, he doesn't know anything about how the bills get paid anyway. He asks how much money we have sometimes, but I always dodge the question and say we have enough (haha, which is what my mom always said). I think the only time he really notices money is when it comes to groceries and eating out. We try to put the emphasis on health and avoiding waste rather than money, or that we're not eating out because we're saving money for something else, not that we don't have the money to do it. There are definitely ways to screw with your kids' psyche when it comes to moolah. One way is to act like you have too much of it and give them everything they have ever wanted, so that they've never had to earn a thing and are incapable of feeling grateful for what they do have. But I think it's also possible to err in the opposite direction, so that your kids have an overwhelming desire for money and possessions because they never had either. So we remove money from the equation entirely, and make it more about what we need rather than what we can spend.
There have been a lot of good things about having only one working adult in our family, but I think one of the biggest lessons has been about money. I'm definitely more appreciative now about what we do have. And budgeting took a lot of the question out of our situation. Bills weren't a surprise any more, and when surprises do happen, I can change my numbers around a little bit to find room for negotiation. It appeals to my obsessive-compulsive side and helps me feel that I have more control in my life overall. Which is a nice thing to feel in an uncontrollable world!
For some background, when D & I were in college, we were pretty poor. I was a single mom in college by the grace of an academic scholarship and he was a college student in the work-study program. In med school, I suddenly was blessed with a stipend through a different scholarship. D had a grown-up job by then, made a heck of a lot of money, and wasn't at home often enough to spend very much. When we got married, we both through budgetary concerns out the window, bought whatever we wanted, and ate out almost every night. It's not healthy to have a lot of money when you're very young, by the way. You become greedy and you waste a lot of things. That changed when we decided to live on my income only, and budgeting became much more important. It's even more of a factor now that we have 2 children, and a house payment. So let's dig in.
First off, I went through our bills and factored up the average cost of every single thing we spent money on. Car payment? Put it on the budget. Water bill? Budget for it. Clothing? Unless you want to be naked... Gas money? Can't walk everywhere in this town, so you'd better have money if you don't intend to take the bus. Even incidentals have to be accounted for. For instance, I noticed that for various reasons over several months, we were spending about $100/month on car maintenance (oil changes, new tires, windshield wipers, whatever). That had to go on the budget, too. I also calculated how much we were spending on our credit cards every month. This all went into a nice pretty spreadsheet with formulas and labels and everything.
Then, I figured out how much I get paid per month through various sources, did some addition and subtraction and voila! I know how much money I can spend. At the beginning, the numbers in the income bracket were a heck of a lot lower than the ones in the spending column. So then I went through and decided what we did and didn't need. Cable was unnecessary, so it went. Eating out is not only expensive, it's bad for the waistline, so that wasn't too hard of a sacrifice. Home decor changes and upgrades had to be put on hold, for the most part. A car payment was too high, so the car was traded in (much to my husband's chagrin, and I've promised to make it up to him with a much nicer car when I get real money, so hold me to it, Blogosphere). I even negotiated our internet bill down by about $15/month. We stick to a grocery budget now, which prevents me from being brainwashed into purchasing a bunch of junk from the pretty displays at Target. I look at our bills every month and make sure that we're allocating money where it needs to go, and that none of the numbers have changed without me noticing.
The next step, once you've balanced your budget and it's going at a steady rate, is money goals. I keep a list of goals at the bottom of my budget spreadsheet. It includes short-term goals, like "pay hospital bills" and long-term goals, like "pay student loans". Other examples of goals could be saving up for a vacation, saving for a new baby ;-), saving for that beautiful couch you saw last weekend, paying off a car loan, paying off a credit card bill, you get the picture.
At first, we had to tap into some of our savings, which was a bit of a downer, but now we're able to save a little bit every month, so I feel better about it. We also haven't had to touch D's retirement fund or stock from his old job, so we still have a lot saved up for a rainy day. Although our grocery budget is tighter now, we definitely don't have to worry about paying for food. We've just changed what we do with the food we get. I eat leftovers now (something I grew up doing, so I'm not sure how I started thinking it was such an undesirable habit). E had to finish the breakfast foods we had before I'd buy more breakfast cereal. It sounds so simple and commonsense, but see my statement above, about how we got careless. We both come from families that are careful with their money, so we had no excuse other than the fact that we went straight from almost no money to too much money.
As far as how this impacts our kiddos, one of them is too young to care/notice (and her food source is free...). For E, he doesn't know anything about how the bills get paid anyway. He asks how much money we have sometimes, but I always dodge the question and say we have enough (haha, which is what my mom always said). I think the only time he really notices money is when it comes to groceries and eating out. We try to put the emphasis on health and avoiding waste rather than money, or that we're not eating out because we're saving money for something else, not that we don't have the money to do it. There are definitely ways to screw with your kids' psyche when it comes to moolah. One way is to act like you have too much of it and give them everything they have ever wanted, so that they've never had to earn a thing and are incapable of feeling grateful for what they do have. But I think it's also possible to err in the opposite direction, so that your kids have an overwhelming desire for money and possessions because they never had either. So we remove money from the equation entirely, and make it more about what we need rather than what we can spend.
There have been a lot of good things about having only one working adult in our family, but I think one of the biggest lessons has been about money. I'm definitely more appreciative now about what we do have. And budgeting took a lot of the question out of our situation. Bills weren't a surprise any more, and when surprises do happen, I can change my numbers around a little bit to find room for negotiation. It appeals to my obsessive-compulsive side and helps me feel that I have more control in my life overall. Which is a nice thing to feel in an uncontrollable world!
1/24/13
The Bowin School for One Small Brown Child
Last fall, we made a very big decision for our family and decided to homeschool E through 4th grade. We made the choice for a lot of reasons, none of which are exciting enough to detail here. Suffice it to say that we weren't happy with the school he was in, and the other various options were not very desirable either. Since I was homeschooled for 4 years and loved it immensely, I don't have the same biases against it that most people (including my dearly beloved husband) do. For anyone who's contemplating it, I think the most important factors are choosing a clearly defined curriculum and making sure that your child has plenty of opportunities for socializing, since they won't be doing it in the school room any more.
So for the first point, the curriculum, we started with the Sonlight curriculum, which is a reading-based, Christian program that my mom used waaaay back when we were homeschooled. One of the best things about homeschooling is the ability to pick what your child is going to learn. With Sonlight, you choose from several different programs within each subject, depending on what you want to emphasize. For instance, this year, we chose a 4th grade world history/geography program, and the science program focuses on electricity and magnetism. The core program is made up of history and geography combined with the language arts: in short, E will read a short textbook chapter on a country or a spotlight in history, and then read a novel that incorporates those ideas. It's fun. Some of my favorite books of all time were books that I first read as part of a curriculum (like Witch of Blackbird Pond and Johnny Tremain). We also have the ability to add in whatever "electives" we like. (But he doesn't get the choice, he just has to do them...) This semester, we added journal writing (D comes up with some hilarious prompts), world religions, letter writing, and typing. Chores figure prominently as a part of his day, and he regularly washes, dries and folds his own laundry, sweeps, dusts and vacuums, and cleans the bathrooms. Manual labor is very educational, you see!
As far as socializing, E's best friend lives down the street from us, and there are about 4 or 5 other boys his age that live in this neighborhood. In the summer, they form a regular little hoodlum gang, running around the park, jumping over fences, and generally being a fairly well-behaved little bunch of nuisances. In the winter, they're mostly restricted to indoor play, which they do almost every day. E's also been on the same soccer team for 3 seasons now, and they practice twice a week during the season. Practice slash play around on the soccer fields and drive their poor coach nuts. Homeschooling is a situation where it would admittedly be nicer for E if he had a sibling closer to his age, something he pointed out quite early in the process, but we manage quite well.
I think my favorite part about homeschooling is that it's fun to know exactly what E is working on in school on any given day, because then we talk about it at the dinner table or when something comes up while watching television or driving around town on errands. When we play games, Spartans and Trojans and Romans figure prominently. When E helps D cook, they talk about random science and math topics. School isn't limited to a certain time of our day, it's all day long. And most of the time, E doesn't even realize it.
So for the first point, the curriculum, we started with the Sonlight curriculum, which is a reading-based, Christian program that my mom used waaaay back when we were homeschooled. One of the best things about homeschooling is the ability to pick what your child is going to learn. With Sonlight, you choose from several different programs within each subject, depending on what you want to emphasize. For instance, this year, we chose a 4th grade world history/geography program, and the science program focuses on electricity and magnetism. The core program is made up of history and geography combined with the language arts: in short, E will read a short textbook chapter on a country or a spotlight in history, and then read a novel that incorporates those ideas. It's fun. Some of my favorite books of all time were books that I first read as part of a curriculum (like Witch of Blackbird Pond and Johnny Tremain). We also have the ability to add in whatever "electives" we like. (But he doesn't get the choice, he just has to do them...) This semester, we added journal writing (D comes up with some hilarious prompts), world religions, letter writing, and typing. Chores figure prominently as a part of his day, and he regularly washes, dries and folds his own laundry, sweeps, dusts and vacuums, and cleans the bathrooms. Manual labor is very educational, you see!
As far as socializing, E's best friend lives down the street from us, and there are about 4 or 5 other boys his age that live in this neighborhood. In the summer, they form a regular little hoodlum gang, running around the park, jumping over fences, and generally being a fairly well-behaved little bunch of nuisances. In the winter, they're mostly restricted to indoor play, which they do almost every day. E's also been on the same soccer team for 3 seasons now, and they practice twice a week during the season. Practice slash play around on the soccer fields and drive their poor coach nuts. Homeschooling is a situation where it would admittedly be nicer for E if he had a sibling closer to his age, something he pointed out quite early in the process, but we manage quite well.
I think my favorite part about homeschooling is that it's fun to know exactly what E is working on in school on any given day, because then we talk about it at the dinner table or when something comes up while watching television or driving around town on errands. When we play games, Spartans and Trojans and Romans figure prominently. When E helps D cook, they talk about random science and math topics. School isn't limited to a certain time of our day, it's all day long. And most of the time, E doesn't even realize it.
1/14/13
Hope
You stood in the aisle
And I will always see you there
Your heart pouring from an open gaze
As I struggled to give you the only gift I could
What comfort can anyone mortal offer
For the loss of a child
I wouldn't even let myself weep
My emotions so unworthy
Guilty, aware that my two
One, tall and the light that had led my life
One, small and so long-awaited
Both safe
How could I even look you in the eye
How could I share loss in human words,
Phrases of hope and resurrection and love
When your son is gone
Yet, you stood there,
So alone, so fragile
I wonder how you could bear to keep breathing,
keep your heart beating
under such assault
And I did it for you
The song you asked for
My heart, my sorrow wrapped inside
It ached as I pulled it forth
As you stood there in the aisle
Gazing at me with such desperation
Too much loss for any hope of relief
And finally, finally, I let myself see you
Under cover of a melody
And someone else's words
I said everything I could
I felt your soul grasping
I felt your hand in mine
And I gave you everything I had
Later, when the comfort of ritual was over,
And uncharted life still left to be lived
How could you be so brave:
You asked if you could hold her,
my survivor's guilt,
my own sweet babe
I laid her in a mother's empty arms
You smiled at her with no trace of fear
And I found she could give more than I ever could
Such a small bandage to cover such a wound
1/11/13
If my mother could hear how much I whine...
Yesterday, I had a busy day.
On my way home from work, I was convinced that it had been a bad day. When I got home, I told my husband that I felt as if I had gotten a slight breather at lunch time, but otherwise was going at full steam, non-stop, without a single break.
And as I said it, the thought came to me, "Why are you complaining? You got to come home for lunch. You got to cuddle your children while your husband fixed you a meal. How could that not redeem any bad day you could possibly have?"
My mother and I have talked a lot this past year about how ungrateful we can be about our lives. Sometimes at work, I feel that all I hear is complaining. And I'm in a line of work where I get paid vacation, where I took 6 weeks off for maternity leave, where my bosses listen to me when things need to change, where my very job description engenders some sort of respect. In short, I mean that I'm not picking up feces every day, so where the heck do I get off complaining about it?
Our culture teaches us that external factors control how we feel, and that to do nothing and get paid for it (cough, cough - the Kardashians - cough, cough) is glamorous and desirable. My parents taught me that hard work is its own reward. That every job should be done well, from cleaning toilets to healing disease. That if you have work, you should feel blessed, because you are able to be productive and your life has meaning. And yet every day, I find myself complaining. I bet if most of you examine your conversation in general, whether it be texts, phone calls, face-to-face or even Facebook statuses, you will be shocked by the amount of complaining you do.
I'm not a New Year's Resolution-type person, never have been. As a friend of mine said recently, "If I feel that something needs to change, I just change it." Well, something needs to change in my life. I'm not planning on never complaining again, because goodness knows sometimes just having my husband or mom listen to my day makes everything better again. But I will try to be more grateful, to whine less, and to enjoy more.
Any takers?
Our culture teaches us that external factors control how we feel, and that to do nothing and get paid for it (cough, cough - the Kardashians - cough, cough) is glamorous and desirable. My parents taught me that hard work is its own reward. That every job should be done well, from cleaning toilets to healing disease. That if you have work, you should feel blessed, because you are able to be productive and your life has meaning. And yet every day, I find myself complaining. I bet if most of you examine your conversation in general, whether it be texts, phone calls, face-to-face or even Facebook statuses, you will be shocked by the amount of complaining you do.
I'm not a New Year's Resolution-type person, never have been. As a friend of mine said recently, "If I feel that something needs to change, I just change it." Well, something needs to change in my life. I'm not planning on never complaining again, because goodness knows sometimes just having my husband or mom listen to my day makes everything better again. But I will try to be more grateful, to whine less, and to enjoy more.
Any takers?
11/26/12
The Ideal
When Peabody was born, that first night home was a doozy. D and I were both reeling from the lethal combination of the sleepless night before the induction, the sleepless night in the hospital, and (too much...) friend/family time. And then Peabody refused to be set down. My body hurt everywhere, and I was on a postpartum emotional roller coaster of sheer elation and sheer exhaustion. But it was ok. Because I had someone else there to hold the baby, someone else to change diapers, someone else to share the sheer burden of situation with me. And because said someone wasn't my mom or dad, brother or sister, I didn't feel guilty about sharing that burden. I felt relieved and so very, very blessed.
I took off six weeks to be at home with my family when Peabody was born. Those were six delightful, dreamy weeks that I was so lucky to have, and that I will remember forever as such a wonderful time. D and I spent countless long, luxurious hours staring at our baby, snapping endless pictures, exclaiming over her every expression, comparing notes on the best way to soothe her, the best way to attract her attention. We were able to take turns sleeping, showering, eating, playing with E, homeschooling, cleaning the house, doing laundry, so that nothing and no one was neglected. We went together to doctor's visits and made the first anxiety-ridden visits to the grocery store with baby in tow. We tried out the stroller and the swing and the bouncy seat and the bassinets. We learned how to put her to sleep (that all-important goal of all parents...). We were able to figure out how this new little creature was going to fit into our lives, how we were going to handle any number of new situations.
If we were a "traditional" family, and D had gone back to work after a week (if he had even felt comfortable taking that much time off), I can't imagine how much more we all would have suffered. Everything would have been ok, but it definitely would have been so different.
When I went back to work, one of my bosses was surprised that I looked so happy. How could I not have been? I was well-rested, my children were safe at home, my house was clean, my pantry full, and I had spent six weeks falling even more in love with my wonderful husband, who I knew was perfectly capable of taking care of everything at home.
So the moral of the story is, if there is any way for both you and your partner to be at home with your new baby, do it. And do it for as long as possible. It's so worth it.
I took off six weeks to be at home with my family when Peabody was born. Those were six delightful, dreamy weeks that I was so lucky to have, and that I will remember forever as such a wonderful time. D and I spent countless long, luxurious hours staring at our baby, snapping endless pictures, exclaiming over her every expression, comparing notes on the best way to soothe her, the best way to attract her attention. We were able to take turns sleeping, showering, eating, playing with E, homeschooling, cleaning the house, doing laundry, so that nothing and no one was neglected. We went together to doctor's visits and made the first anxiety-ridden visits to the grocery store with baby in tow. We tried out the stroller and the swing and the bouncy seat and the bassinets. We learned how to put her to sleep (that all-important goal of all parents...). We were able to figure out how this new little creature was going to fit into our lives, how we were going to handle any number of new situations.
If we were a "traditional" family, and D had gone back to work after a week (if he had even felt comfortable taking that much time off), I can't imagine how much more we all would have suffered. Everything would have been ok, but it definitely would have been so different.
When I went back to work, one of my bosses was surprised that I looked so happy. How could I not have been? I was well-rested, my children were safe at home, my house was clean, my pantry full, and I had spent six weeks falling even more in love with my wonderful husband, who I knew was perfectly capable of taking care of everything at home.
So the moral of the story is, if there is any way for both you and your partner to be at home with your new baby, do it. And do it for as long as possible. It's so worth it.
11/21/12
Humility
The other day after Mass, the lady in front of me turned around and said "You have a lovely voice!"
E looked up at me disingenuously and said "That hasn't happened in a while!"
E looked up at me disingenuously and said "That hasn't happened in a while!"
11/1/12
Finally
The night before you were born,
we lay awake, unspoken anxiety
like a blaring alarm clock.
Items checked from lists before they reached
my full consciousness, my mind racing,
trapped in limbo by what was impending.
Forty weeks felt like a lifetime and yet,
and yet, the questions raised themselves.
The dawn of the day you were born
crept through the blinds,
pierced our awareness as we sat over a game,
attempting to focus on something
I could control,
trying not to watch the dips and peaks
monitoring your tolerance.
Knowledge is a heavy burden and fear
tempers it not.
Prayer is easier when you know the outcome.
The moment you were born,
your father's tears stood bright.
Relief and fierce,
fierce joy flooded my heart
as you screamed your displeasure
when cold, light, sound were foisted upon you
in this unfamiliar openness.
You are no stranger, though, not here,
not when hearts strain toward your existence,
not when love stretches to hold you.
Welcome, little one, welcome to the world.
We've been waiting
we lay awake, unspoken anxiety
like a blaring alarm clock.
Items checked from lists before they reached
my full consciousness, my mind racing,
trapped in limbo by what was impending.
Forty weeks felt like a lifetime and yet,
and yet, the questions raised themselves.
The dawn of the day you were born
crept through the blinds,
pierced our awareness as we sat over a game,
attempting to focus on something
I could control,
trying not to watch the dips and peaks
monitoring your tolerance.
Knowledge is a heavy burden and fear
tempers it not.
Prayer is easier when you know the outcome.
The moment you were born,
your father's tears stood bright.
Relief and fierce,
fierce joy flooded my heart
as you screamed your displeasure
when cold, light, sound were foisted upon you
in this unfamiliar openness.
You are no stranger, though, not here,
not when hearts strain toward your existence,
not when love stretches to hold you.
Welcome, little one, welcome to the world.
We've been waiting
9/30/12
The Nursery!
Since I won't get the chance again, I'm going to take this time to have a little pride-fest about the nursery. Complete with before-and-after pics and everything. I'm so excited, and I know you are too!
Step one: this was the nursery before we moved in.
I don't appear to have a picture of it after we moved in and before it became the nursery. Pooh. Oh well. It used to be my office/guest room. Mostly guest room, since I rarely did actual work in there. Imagine it with a massive dresser against the wall where the bed is, a desk to the left, lots of plants, and a futon couch under the window, and you'll have a pretty good idea of what it looked like. But when we moved into this house, it was with the plan that it would eventually be converted to the nursery. The other bedrooms in the house being occupied, respectively, as the master, E's room, and the Man Cave, you see. We love this room's architectural details (the ceiling), how much light comes in through that huge window (which you'll see later), and the two huge closets that are on the wall to the right. It was pretty much already the most peaceful room in the house.
Step two: inspiration. If you're my Pinterest friend/follower (makes you sound like a disciple or something), you've seen all the nursery pictures I've posted. In actuality, I drew direct inspiration from very few of them. In general, I just wanted to figure out what the feel of the nursery should be, not the actual look. I considered doing a theme, but all of the themes I liked seemed overdone, so I couldn't commit.
There was one thing already set in stone about the room: the dresser. It's massive and dark and it properly belongs with our master bedroom furniture, but our room was much larger when we bought the set than it is now. Hence, the dresser was relocated to the guest room/office/nursery, and it was NOT an option to move it anywhere else. So, because it is such an impressive piece, I kind of had to plan my other furniture choices around it. Luckily, another furniture piece in the room gave some guidance. The little plant table (you can see it on the very right in the finished pictures) had already been forcibly colorized a few years ago when I couldn't handle its inherent ugliness anymore and my beloved husband had obligingly spray-painted it white. Believe me, it looks much better this way. So I planned for the rest of the furniture to also be white. I had considered asking my poor husband to paint the room (and he offered to several times), but I couldn't think of any color I actually wanted more, so he dodged that bullet.
With these two items, I had a theme developing regardless of my original intentions. And it was definitely a vintage theme. Which was rather solidified by the next purchase: the curtains. I looked at every set of nursery curtains that Amazon had available and was not inspired by any of them. Luckily, at yet another thrift store visit, I came across these pink, super-frilly curtains (you can see the edge in the bunny picture). I'd like to think they look perfect, but it was not so obvious in the cold, impersonal light of thrift-store fluorescent bulbs. It took some serious vision to see these as nursery curtains, because I'm absolutely positive that they came out of some little old lady's best drawing room, and I can imagine the entire room down to the gold tassels on her lampshades. I'm not sure how she was able to part with them (death? How morbid...), but regardless, they landed on a thrift store rack and cost me $20 for the set. My husband was appalled by them, and wouldn't agree to their purchase, but I bought them anyway, and now he admits I was right (of course ;-)).
Next step: wall art. I already had the Humpty Dumpty canvas, but clearly the room was begging for matching art on either side of the window, and I only had one of the aforementioned canvases. Back to the thrift store I went, and found these.
The Degas print was an obvious choice (I freaking love to dance) and the other just had something nostalgic and sisterly about it that appealed to me. (My mom noted that it is reminiscent of Little Women.) The frames were not even close in size, and hideous, to boot. Again, gotta work that thrift store vision. They cost me maybe $15 for both, and I spent another $3 on this ugly thing ---->, just to get a frame that was close to the right size. My helpful husband did some spray-paint magic on both the frames and the mats, and I did some transplant surgery, and behold (you'll have to wait for the end, and technically, you can't really see the pictures up close. You get the idea, though...)
The next project I took on was inspired by my little sister. She mentioned that she had made a lampshade out of coffee filters and waxed poetic over how beautiful it was and what an easy project it had been. These lampshades are inherently frilly/girly, and what better place for one than a baby girl's nursery? Some Googling revealed instructions, and after purchasing a gross, stained lampshade (at...you guessed it...a thrift store) for $2 and spending another $2 on coffee filters, I spent an hour's work and this lovely confection was soon adorning my husband's very manly arm.
The actual lamp took a lot longer to find, but perseverance paid off, and this brassy beauty (at a comparatively hefty $8) eventually caught my eye. I considered painting it white, but I think it plays well into the whole vintage thing as-is. Incidentally, if you want a lampshade to experiment on, I now have an extra one lying in my craft box...
We originally needed somewhere to put said lamp, so we transported a bookcase out of the Man Cave into the nursery. It's one of those $15 bookcases from Walmart. Originally, it was honey-colored. D spray-painted it with much difficulty, since the material isn't really made to be spray-painted. Only after it was complete, and I was filling it with what child-friendly books my son wasn't interested in (and yes, we have a huge kids' library), did I realize that E has a white bookcase that is the same size in his bedroom. We both felt rather sheepish. Regardless, it turned out okay.
Rearranging those books led me to yet another idea. I went through the house and removed the jackets from various hardcover novels and stacked them (artistically, of course) on the windowsill. The addition of some little statues that had been gifted to me at various times over the years tied in wonderfully. See that bunny picture for what I'm talking about.
Pinterest led to the next project with this little gem. The idea of having family members contribute fabric was so great, and the look tied in so well with everything else that I just had to do it. So I went to Hobby Lobby to look for an embroidery hoop, saw the price of $15 for the smallest one and almost had a stroke. Ebay had better offerings, but not much. Luckily, I live in a city with a plethora of thrift stores. It took me probably 7 or 8 trips to various places to gather all of them. The smallest was about 50 cents and the largest was $3. I also managed to find one in one of those catch-all craft bags that some thrift stores will put together, just in case you're ever looking for your own embroidery hoops. I ended up with a bunch of random buttons and thread, zippers and lace bits, but since that whole bag was $8, I count it worth it. These are two of the ugliest ones I found...
My godmother, another aunt, and my mom contributed the fabric pieces that you can see in the finished pictures, and I didn't glue any of the fabric down, so it's easily interchangeable should the need arise. One semi-secret, here: the empty nails are for the name. No, I'm not telling. But we took a piece of acrylic to an awesome place here in town, and cut the name out in a font that we picked, and thanks to the generosity of friends who let us use their membership there, we only paid for the acrylic.
The biggest project overall was: the rug. I couldn't find anything that I liked that was in the right price range (read: cheap), so I turned to Pinterest and found this almost immediately. I do not recommend taking this on unless you have lots of time and an incredible amount of patience. I have neither. Thank goodness for my wonderful mother, who devoted hours and hours of her time to finish it when I confessed myself spent when it was less than halfway done. As far as cost breakdown, I spent about $30 on the latch-hook backing at Hobby Lobby, $20 on 2 sets of thrifted t-shirt sheets, $15 on dye and binding. It turned out beautifully, but OMG it was a lot more work than I had anticipated. I took the original pictures with our transplanted living room rug in place, so look at the later ones for the actual rug.
I originally was planning on using an oversized reclining armchair from the Man Cave in the nursery, but my mother strongly suggested I find a rocker/glider. To prevent her from just going out and buying one, I started shopping. After pricing the cheapest ones I could find on Amazon and Walmart, I shuddered with horror and turned to the used section of the Internet to find one. Nothing turned up at first, so we went a-thrifting. I was looking for a wooden one with cushions, intending to paint it white and DIY some new cushions. D turned up his nose at the shoddy craftsmanship of the ones we found, or we both agreed that the prices were too high for something we'd basically have to completely redo. My husband also threw a wrench into the works when we went window shopping at a baby store, he test-rocked some gliders and decided we had to have the gliding stool to go with. Thankfully, we eventually found a listing on Craigslist for a glider and stool for $25. We hotfooted our way to the seller's apartment, and not only was the glider in great shape, but the owner was a non-smoker, and gave us a bunch of other baby items for free. I considered covering the existing cushions, but as you have read, I had taken on way more than I could handle with the rug project already, and the cushions are neutral anyway.
My sister gifted me with the lovely changing table you can see in the corner. It originally lived on Craigslist, but with a little DIY magic, she and our father beat it into the gorgeous form it now has (the DIY gene runs in our family, you see). She saved us from having to use our dresser as a changing table (which was really too tall for the purpose, but we were willing to put up with the inconvenience). We bought some Wal-Mart fabric bins for under the changing table for about $6 a pop to hold diapers and other sundry items.
The crib came from Amazon. It's beautiful, no? I was nervous about purchasing it unseen, but it's soooo much sturdier than I expected (and sturdier than E's crib, which is saying a lot, considering that crib managed to last until he outgrew it and I gave it away), was easy to put together, and shipped really quickly. It's just so elegant, I almost can't handle it. It's the only item in the nursery that was bought brand-new for the purpose of being in the nursery...*
The draped fabric was actually my husband's idea. I was dissatisfied with the way the crib space looked even with the embroidery hoops and he suggested the whole thing. He wanted "something princess-like" (he's spoiling her before she's even born!). The things holding the fabric to the ceiling are curtain tie-backs from Pottery Barn that I found at a consignment sale for $3. The fabric is held to the wall with Mardi Gras beads and pushpins. Seriously.
Last, but not least, the pompoms were made by one of my best friends for my baby shower. I collected them afterwards and distributed them as seen below. I love them!
So there you have it, an overly-wordy celebration of my baby girl's room. And here's the finished product:
My phone can take panorama pics, but it didn't like the lighting...
There's that massive dresser I was telling you about, along with the finished coffee-filter lamp!
My comfy glider, the bookcase-we-didn't-have-to-paint, my hardcover novel vignettes.
The finished flokati rug! Thanks, Mom! And both pictures on the wall.
The lighting in this one is so much prettier. And you can see how the fabric is attached to the wall here.
*Ah! I can't take it! I have to say that I only paid $45 for it because of a gift certificate I randomly won! I'm so cheap, I can't pay full price for anything...
Step one: this was the nursery before we moved in.
Step two: inspiration. If you're my Pinterest friend/follower (makes you sound like a disciple or something), you've seen all the nursery pictures I've posted. In actuality, I drew direct inspiration from very few of them. In general, I just wanted to figure out what the feel of the nursery should be, not the actual look. I considered doing a theme, but all of the themes I liked seemed overdone, so I couldn't commit.
There was one thing already set in stone about the room: the dresser. It's massive and dark and it properly belongs with our master bedroom furniture, but our room was much larger when we bought the set than it is now. Hence, the dresser was relocated to the guest room/office/nursery, and it was NOT an option to move it anywhere else. So, because it is such an impressive piece, I kind of had to plan my other furniture choices around it. Luckily, another furniture piece in the room gave some guidance. The little plant table (you can see it on the very right in the finished pictures) had already been forcibly colorized a few years ago when I couldn't handle its inherent ugliness anymore and my beloved husband had obligingly spray-painted it white. Believe me, it looks much better this way. So I planned for the rest of the furniture to also be white. I had considered asking my poor husband to paint the room (and he offered to several times), but I couldn't think of any color I actually wanted more, so he dodged that bullet.
The first thing I actually purchased for the nursery was this Humpty Dumpty wall thingy. Found it at a thrift store and fell in love with its little $6 self. I guess you could say this was the real jumping off point for the entire room. Especially with my next thrift store find: this little wooden bunny. It cost about $3, I think. I loved its simple, old-fashioned charm.
With these two items, I had a theme developing regardless of my original intentions. And it was definitely a vintage theme. Which was rather solidified by the next purchase: the curtains. I looked at every set of nursery curtains that Amazon had available and was not inspired by any of them. Luckily, at yet another thrift store visit, I came across these pink, super-frilly curtains (you can see the edge in the bunny picture). I'd like to think they look perfect, but it was not so obvious in the cold, impersonal light of thrift-store fluorescent bulbs. It took some serious vision to see these as nursery curtains, because I'm absolutely positive that they came out of some little old lady's best drawing room, and I can imagine the entire room down to the gold tassels on her lampshades. I'm not sure how she was able to part with them (death? How morbid...), but regardless, they landed on a thrift store rack and cost me $20 for the set. My husband was appalled by them, and wouldn't agree to their purchase, but I bought them anyway, and now he admits I was right (of course ;-)).
Next step: wall art. I already had the Humpty Dumpty canvas, but clearly the room was begging for matching art on either side of the window, and I only had one of the aforementioned canvases. Back to the thrift store I went, and found these.
We originally needed somewhere to put said lamp, so we transported a bookcase out of the Man Cave into the nursery. It's one of those $15 bookcases from Walmart. Originally, it was honey-colored. D spray-painted it with much difficulty, since the material isn't really made to be spray-painted. Only after it was complete, and I was filling it with what child-friendly books my son wasn't interested in (and yes, we have a huge kids' library), did I realize that E has a white bookcase that is the same size in his bedroom. We both felt rather sheepish. Regardless, it turned out okay.
Rearranging those books led me to yet another idea. I went through the house and removed the jackets from various hardcover novels and stacked them (artistically, of course) on the windowsill. The addition of some little statues that had been gifted to me at various times over the years tied in wonderfully. See that bunny picture for what I'm talking about.
Pinterest led to the next project with this little gem. The idea of having family members contribute fabric was so great, and the look tied in so well with everything else that I just had to do it. So I went to Hobby Lobby to look for an embroidery hoop, saw the price of $15 for the smallest one and almost had a stroke. Ebay had better offerings, but not much. Luckily, I live in a city with a plethora of thrift stores. It took me probably 7 or 8 trips to various places to gather all of them. The smallest was about 50 cents and the largest was $3. I also managed to find one in one of those catch-all craft bags that some thrift stores will put together, just in case you're ever looking for your own embroidery hoops. I ended up with a bunch of random buttons and thread, zippers and lace bits, but since that whole bag was $8, I count it worth it. These are two of the ugliest ones I found...
My godmother, another aunt, and my mom contributed the fabric pieces that you can see in the finished pictures, and I didn't glue any of the fabric down, so it's easily interchangeable should the need arise. One semi-secret, here: the empty nails are for the name. No, I'm not telling. But we took a piece of acrylic to an awesome place here in town, and cut the name out in a font that we picked, and thanks to the generosity of friends who let us use their membership there, we only paid for the acrylic.
The biggest project overall was: the rug. I couldn't find anything that I liked that was in the right price range (read: cheap), so I turned to Pinterest and found this almost immediately. I do not recommend taking this on unless you have lots of time and an incredible amount of patience. I have neither. Thank goodness for my wonderful mother, who devoted hours and hours of her time to finish it when I confessed myself spent when it was less than halfway done. As far as cost breakdown, I spent about $30 on the latch-hook backing at Hobby Lobby, $20 on 2 sets of thrifted t-shirt sheets, $15 on dye and binding. It turned out beautifully, but OMG it was a lot more work than I had anticipated. I took the original pictures with our transplanted living room rug in place, so look at the later ones for the actual rug.
I originally was planning on using an oversized reclining armchair from the Man Cave in the nursery, but my mother strongly suggested I find a rocker/glider. To prevent her from just going out and buying one, I started shopping. After pricing the cheapest ones I could find on Amazon and Walmart, I shuddered with horror and turned to the used section of the Internet to find one. Nothing turned up at first, so we went a-thrifting. I was looking for a wooden one with cushions, intending to paint it white and DIY some new cushions. D turned up his nose at the shoddy craftsmanship of the ones we found, or we both agreed that the prices were too high for something we'd basically have to completely redo. My husband also threw a wrench into the works when we went window shopping at a baby store, he test-rocked some gliders and decided we had to have the gliding stool to go with. Thankfully, we eventually found a listing on Craigslist for a glider and stool for $25. We hotfooted our way to the seller's apartment, and not only was the glider in great shape, but the owner was a non-smoker, and gave us a bunch of other baby items for free. I considered covering the existing cushions, but as you have read, I had taken on way more than I could handle with the rug project already, and the cushions are neutral anyway.
My sister gifted me with the lovely changing table you can see in the corner. It originally lived on Craigslist, but with a little DIY magic, she and our father beat it into the gorgeous form it now has (the DIY gene runs in our family, you see). She saved us from having to use our dresser as a changing table (which was really too tall for the purpose, but we were willing to put up with the inconvenience). We bought some Wal-Mart fabric bins for under the changing table for about $6 a pop to hold diapers and other sundry items.
The crib came from Amazon. It's beautiful, no? I was nervous about purchasing it unseen, but it's soooo much sturdier than I expected (and sturdier than E's crib, which is saying a lot, considering that crib managed to last until he outgrew it and I gave it away), was easy to put together, and shipped really quickly. It's just so elegant, I almost can't handle it. It's the only item in the nursery that was bought brand-new for the purpose of being in the nursery...*
The draped fabric was actually my husband's idea. I was dissatisfied with the way the crib space looked even with the embroidery hoops and he suggested the whole thing. He wanted "something princess-like" (he's spoiling her before she's even born!). The things holding the fabric to the ceiling are curtain tie-backs from Pottery Barn that I found at a consignment sale for $3. The fabric is held to the wall with Mardi Gras beads and pushpins. Seriously.
Last, but not least, the pompoms were made by one of my best friends for my baby shower. I collected them afterwards and distributed them as seen below. I love them!
So there you have it, an overly-wordy celebration of my baby girl's room. And here's the finished product:
*Ah! I can't take it! I have to say that I only paid $45 for it because of a gift certificate I randomly won! I'm so cheap, I can't pay full price for anything...
9/28/12
Color Me Spoilt
I may or may not have slept all afternoon today. Regardless of whether I ACTUALLY did, as I was laying down on my bed, E came in to give me some instructions, since he and D were going to be at the park playing baseball...
E: "Mom, the back door is open because we're leaving that way. But the front door is locked. The garage door is open, but the door in from the garage is also locked."
Me: "Ok?"
E: "Remember, the back door is open because we need to get back in that way."
Me: "Ok?"
E: "But if anyone knocks on the front door, there are weapons up in my room. And a sword-stick in the stand by the front door."
Me: "Um. Thank you."
E: "Do you need me to close this door for you?"
Me: "Um. No, thank you, though."
E: "Do you need me to turn the fan on for you?"
Me: "Actually, yes, please."
E: "Ok, do you need anything else?"
I didn't do it on purpose. He is just that way.
E: "Mom, the back door is open because we're leaving that way. But the front door is locked. The garage door is open, but the door in from the garage is also locked."
Me: "Ok?"
E: "Remember, the back door is open because we need to get back in that way."
Me: "Ok?"
E: "But if anyone knocks on the front door, there are weapons up in my room. And a sword-stick in the stand by the front door."
Me: "Um. Thank you."
E: "Do you need me to close this door for you?"
Me: "Um. No, thank you, though."
E: "Do you need me to turn the fan on for you?"
Me: "Actually, yes, please."
E: "Ok, do you need anything else?"
I didn't do it on purpose. He is just that way.
9/12/12
Would you like some granola with that?
My cloth diapering set-up for Little Miss Peabody is now complete, with my final packages coming in today!
One of my best friends gifted me some cloth diaper covers last week, and a friend of hers (yes, if you're following my commas, a friend of a friend, stay with me here...) asked me why people choose to cloth diaper. For me, I'll admit the deciding factor was the expense. This chart has a great cost comparison of the different types of cloth diapering (and yes, there's more than one way to go about this) versus disposable diapers, with cloth diapers ending up cheaper than disposables over the long run. And this isn't the only comparison, I promise, if you do some Google work, you'll find similar cost breakdowns all over the place. It may be a bigger investment up front, depending on which method you start out with and which brands you buy. However, I spent about $200 on what you can see in that picture, most of which should still work (i.e. fit) until Peabody is 22 pounds. The prefolds will have to be replaced, since they're newborn-sized, but prefolds are the cheapest method of cloth diapering out there, so I'm not too concerned.
So, the bottom line here for me is cost. If you're cloth diapering because of cost, I'd avoid the store-bought cloth diapers and do some Internet detective work, because you can find quality stuff for about a fourth of what you'd spend in Babies R Us or similar places. To choose my brands, I read a TON of reviews, especially at All About Cloth Diapers and Diaper Pin. You have to be a little careful if you're anticipating a smallish baby (which I WAS until Peabody decided she was going to go against custom and stay unborn until she was term!), and make sure the brands you pick will work for lower weight babies...There are also tons of cloth diaper coops on Facebook, and even Ebay and Craigslist have some good stuff. Shop around.
The second reason I picked cloth was because it's, well, better for the environment. Yes, you're using more water to wash them, but when you take into account the fact that your kiddo's used diapers are sitting in a landfill pretty much FOREVER (imagine that a la that kid from the Sandlot), it's not even a toss-up for me. Even if you use diapers that are flushable or whatever, the fact is, you're still only using them once and then you have to buy new ones (which have to be manufactured, packaged and transported to you....all waste!) Our family has been taking small steps away from disposable products ever since my mom introduced me to the idea of reusable grocery bags (which, does NO ONE ELSE IN THIS STATE USE THEIR OWN BAGS?!). We recycle more each week than we throw away, we do all online billing so less paper comes to our mailbox, we use cloth napkins, we shop at thrift stores (yes, this is better for the environment...again, think of the manufacturing, etc.) and I'm trying to phase out paper towels by encouraging the use of our gigantic stash of old cloth rags instead. I'd start in on toilet paper and Kleenex next but that's just...no. My next project (after the diapers, of course) is getting rid of Ziplock baggies. Yes, you can call me a hippie. And yes, what I'm doing as an individual doesn't matter that much in the big picture, as one friend was so kind as to point out several years ago. But if we all did it, how much difference would that make, SO THERE, JERK FACE! (Kidding, we're really good friends. But seriously.)
The third reason, and it's one that is just unavoidable, is that cloth diapers are so darn cute. I mean, come on, look at that zebra print up there. Adorable.
So there you have it, friends and family members. My reasons. I know you couldn't wait to read them.
Disclaimer: I am human, as is my husband, and we have a (small!) stash of disposables as well, if the whole newborn + cloth diapers thing proves to be too overwhelming at times. But I think we'll stick with it, for all those reasons above!
8/26/12
A Shower of Affection
Yesterday, I had my first pre-baby baby shower.
Yes, it demands some explanation. E was born almost exactly two months early. It's the only time in his life that he's ever been that early for something. I had baby showers post-baby, but I remember them through a somewhat hazy fog, since by that time, I had other things on my mind (like neonatal ICUs and diapers and breastfeeding and whatnot).
But this time, things were different.
My beautiful little mother offered up her house, and some of my very best friends offered up their time, and together we had a veritable sensory overload of pink, frilly, baby girl items. There were cupcakes galore, a delicious pink punch, cakes, fruits, and dips. There were pom-poms and tutus and tiny pink sneakers. My sister planned her vacation time so she could attend. My aunt who always hated it when her mother put her in frilly clothes gave me the frilliest dress in the collection. My sister-in-law and D's cousin both gave me huge boxes of baby clothes, lovingly picked out from their baby girls' closets. My own mother appears to have saved everything I ever wore as an infant, including the outfit my father picked out for me to wear home from the hospital. And that's just a short list of the beautiful, adorable, thoughtful gifts that everyone picked out.
It's overwhelming sometimes to realize how much people care about you.
Thank you, ladies. As wonderful as all of those gifts were, you give me something even more precious every day: your friendship and love. I can only hope my daughter will have such wonderful people in her life.
Yes, it demands some explanation. E was born almost exactly two months early. It's the only time in his life that he's ever been that early for something. I had baby showers post-baby, but I remember them through a somewhat hazy fog, since by that time, I had other things on my mind (like neonatal ICUs and diapers and breastfeeding and whatnot).
But this time, things were different.
My beautiful little mother offered up her house, and some of my very best friends offered up their time, and together we had a veritable sensory overload of pink, frilly, baby girl items. There were cupcakes galore, a delicious pink punch, cakes, fruits, and dips. There were pom-poms and tutus and tiny pink sneakers. My sister planned her vacation time so she could attend. My aunt who always hated it when her mother put her in frilly clothes gave me the frilliest dress in the collection. My sister-in-law and D's cousin both gave me huge boxes of baby clothes, lovingly picked out from their baby girls' closets. My own mother appears to have saved everything I ever wore as an infant, including the outfit my father picked out for me to wear home from the hospital. And that's just a short list of the beautiful, adorable, thoughtful gifts that everyone picked out.
It's overwhelming sometimes to realize how much people care about you.
Thank you, ladies. As wonderful as all of those gifts were, you give me something even more precious every day: your friendship and love. I can only hope my daughter will have such wonderful people in her life.
8/21/12
Small Boy Drama
A couple of weeks ago, my son went down the street to investigate what his friends were doing. He wanted to ride bikes outside. Unfortunately, they wanted to wrestle and play video games (which they were currently engaged in when he arrived). For a child who loves to play at cage fighting with his grandfather, he is surprisingly uninterested in physical altercations with children his own age (and, to be fair, the cage fighting games are highly ritualized, involving helmets and outfits and announcers and everything...), so he outright refused to participate in wrestling. And he had his heart set on bike-riding, so he didn't want to play video games either.
Unfortunately, then he made a mistake. He told an entire group of 9-year-old boys that they were boring. Obviously, they retaliated in kind and, since he was one against many, he was banished from the house and the fun.
I was sitting on the front porch to watch him go down the street, so I was also witness to his return, tears pouring down his cheeks, and disappointment writ in every line of his sad, skinny little self.
Such little dramas are usually commonplace in our neighborhood. Someone won't like what someone else is doing in a game, tempers will flare, and angry tears follow. Usually the upset is short-lived and by the next day, they have all forgiven (and probably forgotten) what came the day before.
However, this time, that didn't happen.
I'm not sure if it was because it's the tail-end of summer, and it's a million burning degrees outside, and these other children's parents are just tired of preventing their boys from playing video games 24/7, or if the insult was really that deeply felt on both sides of the argument, or if the other boys were on vacation and actually out of town. For whatever reason, our front door was shockingly un-molested for the next 2 weeks.
My proud, hard-headed son refused to seek out their company, despite his own boredom with the pace of adult life that pervades in our house. Every suggestion of "go find out what your friends are doing" was met with the disgusted rejoinder "they're not my friends any more." One day, while helping E clean his room, I found a scrap of paper with "I hate A & N" (the two boys he's closest to) written over and over in rather hilariously disturbing fashion. I was beginning to think that the little idyllic neighborhood gang had truly fallen apart.
Then one evening, the day before school was going to start, E was complaining after dinner that he was bored. Being extremely persistent, I timidly suggested "Maybe you should go see what your friends are doing." Sure enough, as hotly as ever, he replied "They're not my friends!" But then, D said mildly, "They came looking for you this weekend."
There was a profound pause.
"Well, maybe in a little bit, I'll go see what they're doing." He threw out nonchalantly, the eagerness in his voice not at all well-hidden.
Within 5 minutes, there was a knock at our front door. E leaped off of the couch like he had been shot from a cannon, disappeared out the front door, and in no time, this is the scene that was playing out on our back patio:
All is right with the world again.
Unfortunately, then he made a mistake. He told an entire group of 9-year-old boys that they were boring. Obviously, they retaliated in kind and, since he was one against many, he was banished from the house and the fun.
I was sitting on the front porch to watch him go down the street, so I was also witness to his return, tears pouring down his cheeks, and disappointment writ in every line of his sad, skinny little self.
Such little dramas are usually commonplace in our neighborhood. Someone won't like what someone else is doing in a game, tempers will flare, and angry tears follow. Usually the upset is short-lived and by the next day, they have all forgiven (and probably forgotten) what came the day before.
However, this time, that didn't happen.
I'm not sure if it was because it's the tail-end of summer, and it's a million burning degrees outside, and these other children's parents are just tired of preventing their boys from playing video games 24/7, or if the insult was really that deeply felt on both sides of the argument, or if the other boys were on vacation and actually out of town. For whatever reason, our front door was shockingly un-molested for the next 2 weeks.
My proud, hard-headed son refused to seek out their company, despite his own boredom with the pace of adult life that pervades in our house. Every suggestion of "go find out what your friends are doing" was met with the disgusted rejoinder "they're not my friends any more." One day, while helping E clean his room, I found a scrap of paper with "I hate A & N" (the two boys he's closest to) written over and over in rather hilariously disturbing fashion. I was beginning to think that the little idyllic neighborhood gang had truly fallen apart.
Then one evening, the day before school was going to start, E was complaining after dinner that he was bored. Being extremely persistent, I timidly suggested "Maybe you should go see what your friends are doing." Sure enough, as hotly as ever, he replied "They're not my friends!" But then, D said mildly, "They came looking for you this weekend."
There was a profound pause.
"Well, maybe in a little bit, I'll go see what they're doing." He threw out nonchalantly, the eagerness in his voice not at all well-hidden.
Within 5 minutes, there was a knock at our front door. E leaped off of the couch like he had been shot from a cannon, disappeared out the front door, and in no time, this is the scene that was playing out on our back patio:
All is right with the world again.
8/1/12
Something Right
I limit E's exposure to the news: he's not allowed to watch the news on TV, and I don't leave popular magazines or newspapers around where he can read them. (On the other hand, he has more exposure than he would like to medical journals...) I listen to NPR in the car with him, but change the station if they start talking about death counts or other violent things. This may be over protective of me in one way, but in another it also keeps him from being overwhelmed by the negativity that
dominates so much of world news. It also lets me discuss select events in a one-on-one manner with him, to assess his feelings and thoughts, and guide him toward his own understanding. Yesterday, while standing in line at the grocery store, he happened to catch sight of a headline about the Colorado shooting. He commented that a friend of his had told him about it. I had him tell me what he knew about it, and then carefully explained a little bit more (that's another parenting strategy: don't discuss more than he wants to learn). And when I was done, he looked thoughtful and said "I feel sorry for that man. I feel worse for all the people who died, of course, but I still feel sorry for him." That's a level of compassion that is so rare in today's society. I had just been telling my husband how disappointed I was by someone on the radio who had said the shooter was a dog who only deserved to be put down. I've also been disturbed by people who point to the amount of premeditation the shooter demonstrated as a reason why he can not be considered mentally ill, as if that would be the only thing that could help them understand what he did. I'm definitely not of the opinion that mental illness excuses actions, or that a diagnosis should be a get-out-of-jail-free card. But regardless of whether or not he has an illness, something in his brain or life malfunctioned to the extent where his actions seemed like a good idea to him. Something made him abnormal. That should make him an object of pity, if not sympathy. And my son, who's only nine, was able to express that pity. Maybe it's just a factor of how innocent and sheltered I try to keep him, but if that's what I have to do to make him a human being, that's what I'll do. And apparently I've been doing something right.6/28/12
Baby Mania
For almost my entire life, I've found it extremely easy to go to sleep. Even through my first pregnancy, the only thing that I remember keeping me up at night was restless legs (which is NOT something to scoff at, for sure...).
BUT lately...I feel like I've been a little bit manic. Part of it is that I've been working nights, and so my sleep schedule is split: get in a few hours at work whenever possible, then go home and sleep for a few hours in the morning. But I've done this before (not to mention 30-hour shifts last year) and usually the only thing that happens is that I fall asleep more quickly.
A huge part of it now is that I'm nesting. I'll admit it readily. I spent the first trimester acting like death with the flu. I slept all the time, and still felt like I barely had the energy to get out of bed. So with the rejuvenation that the second trimester has brought, I've definitely had a rebound back to my usual perky self. But it was controlled until that all-important 24-week mark. And then I allowed the baby fever to take over.
Don't get me wrong, I've been nuts about baby stuff this whole time. But being...cautious?...I'm not sure of the right word, maybe "superstitious?"...I didn't do anything about it until the last few weeks. And now my normal DIY tendencies have been rampaging out of control. OUT OF CONTROL.
Which, coupled with the fact that I do still have to work, sleep and eat, means I have about 20,000 projects in my head right now. Plus, it's the end of the (residency) year, so all of the credentialing, licensing, site review, new interns, graduating residents stuff is going on, too.
This equals me counting endless to-dos at night, instead of peaceful bleating sheep.
Doesn't help that someone's swimming pool is getting too small for her, so she spends a considerable amount of time testing the boundaries. Hard to go to sleep when someone is using your insides for a trampoline.
BUT lately...I feel like I've been a little bit manic. Part of it is that I've been working nights, and so my sleep schedule is split: get in a few hours at work whenever possible, then go home and sleep for a few hours in the morning. But I've done this before (not to mention 30-hour shifts last year) and usually the only thing that happens is that I fall asleep more quickly.
A huge part of it now is that I'm nesting. I'll admit it readily. I spent the first trimester acting like death with the flu. I slept all the time, and still felt like I barely had the energy to get out of bed. So with the rejuvenation that the second trimester has brought, I've definitely had a rebound back to my usual perky self. But it was controlled until that all-important 24-week mark. And then I allowed the baby fever to take over.
Don't get me wrong, I've been nuts about baby stuff this whole time. But being...cautious?...I'm not sure of the right word, maybe "superstitious?"...I didn't do anything about it until the last few weeks. And now my normal DIY tendencies have been rampaging out of control. OUT OF CONTROL.
Which, coupled with the fact that I do still have to work, sleep and eat, means I have about 20,000 projects in my head right now. Plus, it's the end of the (residency) year, so all of the credentialing, licensing, site review, new interns, graduating residents stuff is going on, too.
This equals me counting endless to-dos at night, instead of peaceful bleating sheep.
Doesn't help that someone's swimming pool is getting too small for her, so she spends a considerable amount of time testing the boundaries. Hard to go to sleep when someone is using your insides for a trampoline.
6/22/12
Carpentry
My husband labored for at least an hour in the hot sun today.
Making wooden cup holders.
So a couple of small boys could bring their water cups up into the backyard pirate ship with them.
That's love, people.
Making wooden cup holders.
So a couple of small boys could bring their water cups up into the backyard pirate ship with them.
That's love, people.
6/11/12
He's so hard to buy for...
Chat convo with the Hubs:
Me: so I am scared to buy your birthday present without your input
Me: I'm fairly certain I can do it
Me: well, I know I can, but you have certain tastes
The Hubs: Oh dear. Is it a mail order love slave?
Me: so I am scared to buy your birthday present without your input
Me: I'm fairly certain I can do it
Me: well, I know I can, but you have certain tastes
The Hubs: Oh dear. Is it a mail order love slave?
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