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In no particular order...
Humidifier Parts
Enjoy your visit and come again soon...
Little Paula and I have been living it up the last few days. In spite of the time we have to spend doing housework and cooking, the time I spend online (optimally while she nurses or sleeps), and our weather-imposed social isolation, we have so much fun together. She is simply delightful. I lie on my back in bed and stand her on my chest or tummy. She looks down at me, I smile, she smiles back. She laughs, I laugh back. I talk to her and she rewards me with full-body grins. Her big, open, tongue-out grin is no longer the main feature in her repertoire of happy looks. Now she has a wide smile that draws up the corners of her mouth and pushes her cheeks up so her eyes get squinty, like Joel's when he laughs. It is unbearably happy-making.
As we've moved through housework and other necessities the last few days, I've found myself reaching for eye contact with her. She is calmly surveying the world and I am turning her around in the sling to gaze at those blue-grey eyes and see if I can't elicit a smile.
Sometimes when I lay her down on our bed, she looks up at the ceiling or at the blank walls with an expression of delight. She clasps her hands in front of her and giggles, talks, squeals. My only guess is that she can see some guardian angel who hovers there invisible to grown eyes.
This afternoon she was having so much fun like this that I left her to play with her unseen friend while I put away laundry. A little while later, after she had been happily sucking her hands, I nursed her briefly and she fell asleep.
After she woke up and played with Joel and I for a while, I got the feeling she was sleepy but didn't really want to cuddle up to go to sleep. I couldn't figure out what else to do, so I nursed her for a while in the glider, but she was squirmy and couldn't settle down. We moved to the bed, where she continued to nurse and fuss. I wondered if I was totally out of milk and she was still hungry. I checked; still had milk. Then I wondered if she just wanted to lie there and look up at whatever it is she looks at, and drift to sleep that way. I got up, turned on the monitor, and left the room.
Five or ten minutes later when I looked in on her, her eyes were still open. I had heard her sucking her fingers through the monitor, but she had stopped for the moment. She appeared deeply relaxed as she gazed up at the ceiling. I laid down near her, not touching her, and her eyes drifted closed.
She went to sleep without me.
She went to sleep without me holding her or nursing her. Without feeling the warmth or movement of my body, hearing the sound of my heartbeat, or smelling what I can only describe as my distinctive aroma. I'm glad she felt secure that I was nearby, but this gives me the first glimpse of what it will be like as she gets older. My little baby girl, whose dependence I have welcomed so wholeheartedly, will not always depend on me. This makes me sad.
I know that growing up is good and becoming independent is the whole point and all that. But this state of grace she and I inhabit right now - in which we share so much that I feel we really are one person - won't last, and I know I will miss it.
I've realized something cruddy about how I've been treating my brother, Kit, for the last few years. He's a little bit of a spaz, frankly, but I've given him an inordinately hard time about it. I kept waiting for him to snap out of it and become the emotionally skillful and moderately organized person I expect someone in my family to be. The rest of us are like that, so Kit should be, too, right? Mom always said he was the way he was because of being bullied as a pre-teen. She said he has post-traumatic stress disorder - I didn't buy it. I concluded that he was just being, for lack of a better phrase, a big baby. So I was harsh with him about any little thing, unforgiving and generally critical and nasty to him. I feel pretty dumb about that now.
It started with something that happened Monday night. Mom, Dad and Kit arrived for a short visit Monday morning and went to Baha'i Feast without me that evening. Kit met up with some friends at Feast and took off with them. What I didn't know was that he had taken his suitcase with him when he left for Feast. Mom said he didn't feel welcome here. We had a big mother-daughter talk about it, analyzing every aspect of the factors and emotions at play, and I realized something.
Kit isn't going to snap out of it. In fact, there is no "it" for him to snap out of. That's just the way he is - gawky, prone to losing things, supremely awkward in any but the most easygoing social or interpersonal setting. He's also highly intellectual and possesses a wonderfully dry, ironic wit. In contrast with the rest of my family, he almost never stoops to pun, but comes out with such gems as to snort, "Yeah. Like sarcasm's funny."
I still don't believe he has PTSD as a result of being bullied. I think he was vulnerable to bullying because he just can't perform the emotional aikido necessary to deflect and negate the kind of teasing that is so common on the playground. I think that in spite of having a rough time of it, he is good at making friends and finding kindred spirits. He told me today that he's not worried about making new friends in Atlanta, where he'll be living with my parents for the summer, but made sure to honor his friends in Laramie in his blog. He's good like that.
I guess I've been remiss in that I didn't give a blow-by-blow of my very first Mother's Day. Allow me to remedy that. First off, Joel hung out with Lil P while I took a LONG shower, washed my hair, conditioned my hair, shaved all applicable body parts, scrubbed my feet with purple loofa soap, scrubbed my face with apricot stuff, washed all my other body parts. This might sound like your everyday shower, but for me it is a big deal to wash more than those parts in most dire need of cleansing. Nuff said about that. Then Joel got up and mowed the wet lawn, with frustrating and uneven results. But at least it looks like we tried. Then, when he was showering and getting ready for what was going to be a trip to the forest preserve, I was hungry and asked for him to take me "out to eat, but to a restaurant." Our eating-out generally consists of drive-thru these days. So when he emerged, he suggested my all-time favorite restaurant, Ras Dashen.
Ras Dashen is an Ethiopian restaurant all the way on the North Side, prohibitively far from where we live. I love it so, but we almost never get up there. The food is exquisite and the service is so friendly and warm.
We drove up Lake Shore Drive in Joel's van, listening to Styx' greatest hits. Once there, we were greeted, seated and fussed over by all the female staff. Everyone wanted to see the baby, hold her, pass her around. I felt so at home. We ordered, our food came, we ate the stews and salads on injera with our hands. Delightful.
On the way back south on Lake Shore Drive, I reclined the back rest of the back seat, where I was sitting next to Paula as she sucked sleepily on my little finger. I looked out at the trees and buildings, the blue sky above them. Joel put on Joni Mitchell, and I could just barely hear her strum the dry chords of "Both Sides Now" as I floated contentedly, stuffed with delicious food and in the company of my two dearest loved ones. For that moment all my worries drifted away. My fears about being the kind of mother little Paula needs, my self-imposed deadlines for housework, my anxieties about student loans, noisy neighbors, my health: they all evaporated. I felt nothing but the presence of the sky, the lake, the trees and my family. I cried, and it was good.
Yesterday at the doctor's office, Lil P rolled over for the first time!
Little Paula has a funny way of verbalizing sometimes. She kind of squawks and creaks with her mouth wide open, and this morning I made up a little song to sing to her about it because I'd like to give Joel a few more minutes to sleep and singing often calms her down.
Baby girl,
Why do you sound like a pterodactyl?
Why do you sound like a
prehistoric dinosaur flying through the sky?
Why?
Baby girl
Why do you sound like a baby crocodile?
Why do you sound like
that guy Steve Irwin is running right behind you?
It worked. She calmed down.
Today I was so tired all day but managed to get myself, the morbidly obese diaper bag, the carseat base (with carseat attached), a bag lunch AND the baby into the car and to the doctor this morning. We went in to discuss his suggestion that I begin feeding Lil P iron-fortified cereal at four months. This goes contrary to the recommendations of the American Academy of Pediatrics and the American Academy of Family Practice, not to mention the World Health Organization, all of whom recommend exclusive breastfeeding for at least the first six months of life. But in an effort to work with my doctor for Paula's health, I decided we could discuss the iron issue and try to approach it with a more holistic, breastfeeding strategy. So today I got my blood drawn to make sure I have good iron stores to pass to Lil P. If I do not, I will supplement my own diet. A little-known fact about iron in breastmilk is that it is absorbed at about 40%, as opposed to iron from supplementation (i.e. cereal or formula), which is absorbed at a rate an order of magnitude lower - 4%. That's just not good enough.
My doctor is a good guy, and was willing to go along with my wishes on the iron thing. I'm hoping he'll continue to be flexible on these issues, since I really think his heart's in the right place.
After seeing the doctor, Paulita and I went grocery shopping, then came home and took it easy for a while. Like a dummy I didn't get off the computer when she was asleep in my arms. I was so tired but skipped the chance to lie down and nap with her. Once we got home I had stripped Lil P's clothes off - she always feels hot to me - and carried her around naked. I missed almost every cue that she needed to "go" today and got peed on a bunch of times.
The heat today was a little much for me with my new mama hormones. I'm dripping sweat as I write this. She got to sleep okay tonight in spite of her teething. I finally just gave in and gave her the dose of infant Tylenol the doc recommended. It seemed to help, but not so much as the infant Advil I've tried before. But she didn't object to the taste as much. Anyway, I put her down in bed with the baby monitor next to her and did the kitchen cleanup and laundry I swore to myself this morning I would do once she was asleep.
here.
Or maybe they do. As in last night when Rachel abandoned her dream job in Paris to be with Ross. Why couldn't Ross go to Paris with her and, um, HIS DAUGHTER? There's something that didn't get mentioned. Speaking of Emma, where was she when Rachel was sleeping with Ross?
And while I'm at it, what was up with Chandler and Monica leaving the newborn twins alone for so long while disassembling the football table? And they were never showed holding, feeding or changing the poor things after they got home. That's so awful! And Courtney Cox was clearly prego - she didn't have something to say about not appearing to touch the babies? Yikes. Well, she'll feel differently when hers is born, I hope.
All right, in case I got all that wrong because I missed the last 6 minutes - silly me, I thought that 2-hour special meant 2 hours, not 2.10 hours. Ugh.
I was at Target a few weeks ago, looking for nursing bras, I believe, and maybe a new top. I was shopping in the maternity section, which, in addition to being more forgiving to my generous post-partum curves, is the one section in which I know nothing I find has also been purchased by my mother-in-law. Yes, it's kind of weird to admit, but she and I have independently purchased the exact same items from Target. Actually one of them was a blouse she gave me, then I saw her wearing the exact same one. What's up with that? I'm not sure. I can't really complain, though, because she has pretty good taste, and never fails to give me clothes that fit well. But I digress.
So I'm in Target and Lil P is strapped to my chest in the sling, asleep. She started to make some hungry noises and I began looking around for someplace I could sit down to nurse. Now, I am not a bashful nurser. In fact, I sometimes forget the little niceties of public nursing and leave more of my breast exposed than one is "supposed to," or forget to pull my shirt all the way down afterward. That's more of a belly-stretch-mark issue, though. Still, I do like to take a load off when I'm nursing. In Pier One the other day I enjoyed nursing in a comfy leather armchair as genteel suburban ladies avoided me with their eyes and focused intently on baskets and brass roosters. But Target didn't have anything I considered a decent spot to nurse in, and I was just lucky that Lil P decided to wait till we got to the car to put the munch in munchkin.
This got me thinking. Target is a huge and hugely popular chain store that attracts parents like crazy. It has baby and child sections that rival football fields. So why shouldn't Target go baby-friendly and include a nursing nook where mothers can breast (or bottle) feed their babies in comfort and quiet? As far as I'm concerned, it wouldn't have to be terribly private, with a door that closes and no visibility from outside, but to satisfy moms who prefer less visibility when nursing, it could be at least partly shielded from areas of high traffic.
And so, on a kind of a lark, I'm going to start a petition. You don't have to be a parent to appreciate the idea: it's no fun for anyone to shop when a tired, hungry and overstimulated baby is crying nearby. And Target execs might come to see the commercial value of a device for keeping people in the stores longer.
I just wrote to a friend of mine who is expecting her first baby in a few weeks. I poured out probably too much new mommy advice, thoughts and feelings to her, and then went to nurse Lil P, who amazingly enough, has begun to be able to be put down to sleep once in a while so I can go to the bathroom alone or easily check email. I check on her every third breath, of course, but it's still nice to be able to do something while she's sleeping. Anyway, while I was nursing her I started thinking of all these other things I wished I had also put in the letter to my friend. So here's the letter, with my tardy inspirations in [brackets]
Hi, J!
It's great to hear from you! I hope your pregnancy has gone well and you have been able to enjoy yourself. I'm sure you're feeling huge and looking beautiful at this stage :). Are you planning on breastfeeding? As a 3.5-month "veteran," I'd be more than happy to encourage you and help out in any way I can. I also have some great contacts from La Leche League, my mom, who is a lactation counselor, and friends and family who breastfed. It should be so simple, so intuitive, but most of us just don't grow up around it like in other cultures...
But in spite of the ups and downs of getting it going, I do love nursing. I adore being able to snuggle up with my baby and give her the perfect food, comfort, closeness. [I love knowing that more than anything, *I* am what she needs. I feel such a surge of love and tenderness come over me when she is nursing that I can't believe that much love exists in the world. It's more than I ever anticipated.] I know it helped me through the rough times when I was really not feeling up to being a new mommy, as though my body was telling me, "yes, you can do this." I hope I'm not making you feel pressured if you're not planning on breastfeeding. Just sharing.
Wow, so you moved to R., huh? I'm not sure where that is, but it's probably not too far from me. We live near Midway and I'm about a stone's throw from Brookfield, Oak Park and LaGrange. I actually go to the Trader Joe's in LaGrange - it seems so weird to me now; that always seemed so far away :).
Yeah, it's a big change to have a baby and move to a new place. Let me ask you: do you have someone coming every day to help you after the baby's born? Like with food, shopping, laundry, housework? Unfortunately I can't offer myself that way (my little one still takes up *all* my time), but I encourage you to set it up. I *can* offer to bring over a dish or some groceries, if you want to tell me what you like/need. I didn't have anyone to help me after Joel went back to work 5 days post-partum, so if I can help it in any way I want to warn you to get help [ed: what an awful sentence]. You will need it [ed: much better sentence].
The first weeks post-partum are an important time for you to heal your body and intensively be with your baby, not worry about shopping or cooking. Do you know about post-partum doulas? I believe that's what they do, in addition to helping with the establishment of breastfeeding for those who are. I'm not sure how to find one, but you might be able to find something on the web? Whatever you choose, don't hesitate to give my number to your hubby and have him (or your mom or friend, whoever) call me and say, "J. needs poppyseed bagels, a gallon of orange juice and three pomegranates." I will bring them.
Well, I hope you don't mind yet another avalanche of just-barely-ahead-of-you new mommy thoughts. I will be sending you good vibes over the next few weeks for your labor. Okay, last piece of advice: just remember that you have the power to birth that baby. You totally have what it takes to bring it into the world and be its mommy. [You should not be afraid of the pain; you are already more familiar with pain than most because of dancing, so don't think it's some kind of tortuous ordeal. It will really hurt, but instead of just enduring the pain to get through a performance or something, you can go with it and bring your baby safely into the world. I feel in my gut that your life has prepared you for this.] Don't lose sight of that, and make sure your support people remind you when you need it. You are POWERFUL! And I'm not just saying that because I went to Mills... :P
All my best! Please let me know when you've had your little one and gotten through your babymoon. I'll be thinking about you until then. Can't wait to meet the baby!
Juliet
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