Well, it had to happen sometime.

Toby got teeth recently, which are adorable. They are also incredibly sharp. Boyfriend likes to bite, and bite hard, on everything he can get near his head. Until today, that everything included my boob.

As I have noted before, I have a complex relationship with breastfeeding. I think I have been meaning to write something else since I was able to very successfully nurse Toby (with some supplementation, but at one point I was winning and the ratio was like 70/30 me), but as I have also noted before, breastfeeding might as well be a full time job in itself, so I just plain didn't get around to taking things back and clarifying and whatnot. Summary: breastfeeding is amazing. I feel like both Henry and I missed out a bit, even though he is a healthy little lad and I love him very much.

So Toby and the biting. I had been advised that if he bit, don't (repeat three times) pull him away because he will still be biting, and it will hurt. Um, this would be the biggest understatement ever - ouch! Mamas said discourage babe from biting by squishing him into your boob. Which works OK, except I seemed to forget that 8 of 10 times in the moment (soooo ouch!). The squishing was considered beyond hilarious by little man, who would wait like a snake in the grass to strike again. Charming. (Actually, it kind of was. He is incredibly adorable when his laughs, it's addictive like crack.)

This was the straw.

I have to admit that the timing works out for me. I've been kind of ready to go on a soy and dairy bender for a few weeks. It makes sense, Toby is seven months old. When I quit smoking (on more than one occasion, I am loathe to admit) I did great until about month six, seven, eight... It took years to bust through that wall and really and truly quit. If there was tobacco in like 80% of the things at the grocery store, I have a feeling I would not be on the wagon still. Dairy is in 80% of what is yummy, and soy is in 80% of everything, which limits you more than a bit. I have been practically bathing in cheese since earlier today (note that I don't even particularly like cheese normally). You see, I finally made the decision that it was time to wean.

Of course, that sounds so awful: I made the decision to wean. Really, it's been steadily happening for a while now. Toby has been pretty much comfort-nursing for a few months, because my supply was just not able to get up high enough to keep up with his monster-baby heft, and with schedules and craziness, and him being HUNGRY, he just has been getting more of his nutrition in nasty pre-digested powder form. The addition of solids has been slow; his tummy is still having a rough time, so sweet potatoes and squash seem to be the only things both he and his tummy agree are awesome so far. What stunk was that even though he was hardly nursing, if I screwed up just a little bit, he was a mess. Poor baby, we couldn't even tell if it really was the pears making him a nut, or mama accidentally ate hidden butter or soy lecithin. It's time to call it.

In the balance, we both got a great deal. We both to cuddle and share something special, and no soy, dairy, or tomatoes (and limited caffeine and peanuts) was completely worth it for those seven months. Breastfeeding is amazing, and I defy you to find anything sweeter than a nursing baby. (Seriously. Try. Sweetest thing in the world. For reals.) I will really and truly miss it. I might not have said this eight months ago, but that's precisely why I got such a good deal.

Now, Toby, you may bite away!

Public Service Announcement

It comes up multiple times, every time we leave the house, so I feel the word needs to be spread: No one puts fake glasses on a baby.

In case anyone missed the point I am making here, let me elaborate: Yes, Toby needs his glasses to see. They are indeed corrective lenses. I'm not just trying to make him look cute. They are not sunglasses. Yes, he needs them to see. No, he's not going to outgrow the glasses in a few years. Yes, his glasses stay on his head with that strap. Sure, he tries to take them off sometimes, he's a baby. Yes, we know he needs to wear glasses. Yes, his doctors have ways of determining what power he needs. Sure, that's amazing. Yes, they do in fact make glasses for babies. Yes, THEY ARE REAL GLASSES.

Aside: If you are a parent who has considered putting fake glasses on your baby because it's cute, don't do it. It's jerky, to your baby and to the babies who need glasses. Don't do it. Period.

Apparently being of childbearing age opens you up to the most invasive and inappropriate comments from complete strangers. It gets progressively worse as
a) said strangers know you are thinking of having children,
b) you are pregnant (obviously or not, once someone knows this, your body is merely fodder for conversation), or
c) you have a baby.

I've heard about the insensitive and offensive comments of strangers to the trying to conceive and/or adopt from several friends, all of whom handle it well, but get annoyed deep down. I never personally had anyone jump on in and grab my baby belly, but I got plenty of comments about how huge I was and countless unsolicited horror-birth stories. That was great. Even while I was in labor, I was getting them from the nurses. Bret nearly had a fit, I had just gotten used to it. Having a baby just opens the floodgates.

If you have an apparently healthy baby, you get questions from complete strangers that are extremely personal (inevitably followed by what is often ridiculous advice) about how much and what you are feeding the baby, how much sleep you are getting, whether you had trouble conceiving, what your sleeping arrangements are... on and on. Even folks who would vote to ban all mention of a va-jay-jay in schools, or wax poetic about how inappropriate the "gay agenda" is because it is focused on sexual orientation have no problem getting all up in your very personal private-part business. Just by way of example, I had a grocery clerk ask me whether I had a vaginal birth straight out of the blue one day when I came through her line with Henry. Too shocked not to respond with what was essentialy a reflex "Yes," she then hit me with "did you have an episiotomy or tear?" WHAAAT?!?!

Things are a little tougher, or so I have found, if you have a baby that has an obvious issue. Toby wears glasses (did I mention that? He needs them to see.) We can't leave the house without having at least one person, and usually at about five people, make comments about his glasses. This doesn't count the many smiles and laughs we get, or even the straight up laughing and pointing. It's honestly exhausting, frustrating, maddening, but only occasionally sweet.

So here is a little primer on how we'd like to be approached, by strangers. I can't speak for anyone else, but I suspect that these guidelines might apply to kids with other medical issues or other differences as well.

1. Smiling at a sweet baby is fine. Commenting on his general cuteness, also fine. This is totally normal behavior around a baby, and yeah, he's pretty darn cute.

2. Even if you assume that they are sunglasses, you should pause before pointing and talking about his hater-blockers, his cool shades, or how he is ready for his photo op. Sunglasses on a baby could very well be there for a medical reason, but even if it's just for shade, unless you're sure of this you should check yourself. If your assumption is wrong, you could be incredibly insulting, and might get corrected by a mama who will make you feel like poo (or at least try to make you feel crappy - I start with "no, they're real glasses. He was born blind, so we're really lucky he is able to see now..." I am very passive aggressive, you had better watch out for me.) This is not a mistake you want to make.

3. Pointing is never, ever, ever, ever polite. If you want to show your friend, your spouse, your child, the checkout clerk, etc., the kid in glasses, stop and think about how much you are objectifying that kid with what you are doing and don't do it. It's damn mean, and you should know better.

4. If you are going to ask about the glasses, be prepared to get the response mom feels like giving. This could just be "yes, they're real glasses." If someone doesn't want to get into the whole back story of her child's personal, medical history with you in the supermarket, it's really OK. It's her right, and her baby's right, not to have to share it with you, a stranger. If you ask follow up questions and get very very short responses, be respectful. You may be the tenth person that day to ask, and mama may be done with sharing with strangers for the day. THIS IS OK, really really.

5. Don't approach the difference as something tragic, or as a "blessing in disguise," or a "miracle." You, as a stranger, certainly don't get to make that kind of value judgment about the situation. And my feelings about it are absolutely none of your business.

6. Also, please leave people who are trying to have a baby/adopt, pregnant women, and parents with babies alone about their personal lives. Unless you know them very well, it's really none of your business. (And even then they might want you to butt out!)

Toby might not need both his glasses and his contacts pretty soon, but I might keep him in glasses so that in the event he needs them again when he is 2 we don't have such fight about it. This was advice I got from a TSA checker in San Francisco, unsolicited. The first thing out of her mouth was "My son was a baby in glasses at that age too, does everybody bug you about it?"

Open Letter to My Hair

Dear Hair on My Head,

When the heck did you get wavy, and why was I not consulted on the matter? Or at least informed in advance. Not kind.

Sincerely,
You know exactly who.

Happiness is...

...two sleeping boys, a good check up for Toby with the eye specialist, and packing for a trip to Napa for KK's wedding (to awesome Jon). A nap for me will make this afternoon epic, so I am off to make that happen!

My Almost Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

I don't really remember a lot of things from my childhood for some reason. I do, however, very distinctly remember that my elementary school principal (Mr. Bond) would lead assembly every morning, and every once in a while (once a year I think) he would have a day that kept him from getting prepped, and he'd tell us that happened and then read us "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day." It's a book about a boy who has a really crappy day.

It happens. Sometimes you just have a really cruddy day. Everything that could go wrong, does. Things you never imagined could go wrong go horribly wrong. I had begun crafting this post in my head as I was driving home from the grocery store around 3pm the other day because I was having one of those days. Fortunately, however, things turned around; it wasn't a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, but it almost was.

Things didn't really start to slide until mid-day. I was tired. I couldn't get Toby to nap, so I took him shopping. I had a lot of things to get at Target, but went to grab some more tops at Old Navy first. They didn't have them. They had nothing. I got a call from Henry's school that he was not napping, kicking, and yelling, so I needed to come pick him up since he was disrupting naptime. I never got to Target, Toby screamed the whole way, and I got a note with Henry that said he'd been being a bad napper for a couple of weeks. Great. They screamed in the car on the way home. I realized we really needed to go to the grocery store, Henry pitched a fit wanting a cookie, so even though it seemed like a bad idea, we did it. I had to feed Toby in the parking lot, which didn't really work out (more screaming, no eating). Henry spit all of his water out onto the front of his shirt and we had no other set of clothes. Nothing good was on sale. The veggies were not good at all. Henry pitched a fit and kept standing up in the cart and grabbing everything. Toby woke up in the sling, had on no glasses, and looked as though he might cry at any moment. At the car, I found I had dumped a whole mug of coffee into the driver's seat and my nursing cover. I had to sit, in my new jeans, in coffee to get home. It was during this drive I started reliving assembly and Alexander's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

But...

When I got home, things started to turn around. Henry's teacher called me and was incredibly sweet, putting me at ease and relieving my stress that Henry was disrupting class all the time. We made a plan to tackle the no-nap craziness. Toby took a nap and I got to play with Henry. We ended up having a delicious dinner, thanks to our trip to the grocery. All the veggies I couldn't buy because they were not looking good, out of stock, or way overpriced were picked up by Bret at the Farmer's market on the way home. Oh, and the ONE thing I grabbed before getting pulled from Old Navy is great. And I got most of the coffee stain out of my nursing cover (enough to be OK with it). Bret and I tag-teamed the boys and the cleaning and cooking really well, and had a nice evening together. It all really worked out in the end, even though it was looking grim.

I think it's a good thing to remember that every now and again, you really do just have a bad day. Things will get better, and it's even kind of funny because it's just so bad, but it's OK to just have a bad day. It happens to everyone and life goes on. And it's also great to remember that even those days that start out really bad can turn around. Keeping your sense of humor and keeping perspective is so important, because you never know when things can flip. So in the end, I got two really great lessons the other day, and I got to remember that I learned a lot from Mr. Bond showing us he was human and reading us a very good book about a very bad day.

That's what I want.

While I have admitted recently that I have a love/hate relationship with technology, I also still want stuff. As promised, here is a list, in no particular order, of the material things I am craving:

1. Portable DVD players for the car. I never imagined that I would want to be in one of those minivans with movies playing in the back on the highway. (Yes, I said minivan, but that is another story.) I find it distracting to drive past a DVD player in another car, as I am always trying to figure out what they are watching. It’s a terrible hazard. But so is a screaming child, and while Henry doesn't really ever scream, it is a truth universally acknowledged that an entertained Henry is far more fun than a bored and cranky Henry. Oh, and we can’t handle listening to the Alphabet CD on repeat for 3 hours. Ever. Again.

2. iPhone. I want to be able to take pictures, post to the blog, update on Facebook and Twitter, make calls, text, email, AND shoot video – all on the fly. I have said before, and I will say it again: I don’t like the phone. It’s true! But the iPhone can do oh so many things. And honestly, I need something to do while I am nursing Toby. And I need a device designed for one hand to do it because the laptop is unwieldy. I know this practically negates everything I said here, but really, I do need an iPhone to make it all a little easier. Right?

3. A fancy schmancy washer/dryer. Kelly Ripa has convinced me. I’m sorry, but being able to wash and dry a load of clothes in like 35 minutes is amazing. You know it is. Quiet machines - oh, heaven. Saving energy and water to boot? Please. No brainer. Gotta have it.

4. A laser printer for the house. I want the cheapest, simplest thing around. I need to be able to print forms from time to time. Or recipes. Or letters. Paperwork generally. I actually do a great deal of paperwork (it’s weird), and it would improve my mood tremendously to just be able to DO it. I guess we do have an ink jet someplace we could get back in action, but laser is so much easier. And I never need to print in color anymore, so cheapo laser is perfection.

5. A king-sized bed. Toby likes to nurse and sleep with us. I think Henry may want to come hang in bed with us sometimes now. All this action in the queen is just not working so well. Those extra inches would improve my nights oh so much… Oh king bed, come to me!

Of course, these are the individual, accessible things I crave. I also want a new kitchen, new windows, a new roof, and a new color for the house (among our other home projects on the waiting list), but even just the list above makes me feel a little creepy when I write it down, so I will just stop now...

Technobabble.

As I have said before, my relationship with technology is complex. There are machines I can't live without, and there are gadgets I frankly lust over. And I watch TV (and I like it). And I did, after all that bitching, join Facebook. I admit I even sort of like it a little bit (bastards).

All of it has me thinking about how different life would be without all the gadgets, all the media, all the information and communication. In the past several weeks, I have written what could be a short book on the topic, but lack the technology to transcribe my thoughts as I am falling asleep. (Aside: This is probably a good thing. No one needs to read all the crap I think as I am falling asleep. Not even me.)

Ironically, a mama friend just announced that for the next week she is on a media "fast." I like the idea, and also get completely freaked out by it. No internet, no news, nothing for a whole week?!? She is braver than I. Honestly, I have no idea how we used to basically cut ourselves off from the world when we went to the Bahamas for months at a time when I was small.

But this is sort of emblematic of my love/hate relationship with technology. One the one hand, there are devices that make things infinitely easier in a day. And honestly, while I don't have the time to hang out on Facebook because I have a two year old and a three month old at home right now, just getting connected with people I have not seen in years is (how I loathe to say it) fun. It's great for making playdates, and even for starting new mama friendships.

And then there is the other hand.

I end up spending way too much time with technology - in front of the TV, in front of the computer, driving places to hang out in air conditioning, at the grocery store... There is a part of me that really tries to make time for things like knitting and reading, but with limited relaxation time, TV usually wins. Even if it's just the news, or shows to occupy Henry while I nurse Toby, the TV is on way too much in our house. And so are computers. And cell phones.

I would love to get back to super-basics, and learn to make everything from scratch so we are eating close to the earth, and locally as much as possible. Since Toby's allergic to soy and dairy, I can eat very few processed things right now, and it's making me realize how much processed crap I give Henry - even though I really very actively try to give him foods that are not processed. When I think about how much time I would need to pick up to, say, make my own jams and jellies, bake my own bread, make my own yogurt and rice milk, etc., I realize just how much of my day I lose to technology. The trade off for getting the time to sit and read the New York Times online (headlines only for me these days, but still) and watch my trashy TV for a couple of hours in the evening is losing those hours for everything else. Getting to keep up with all my friends from college on Facebook may mean I am losing hours of face time with new friends in my community, and that's kind of sad, huh?

I have no real answers here, and don't think I could even last one week without all my gadgets. In fact, I have a great big list of new stuff I would love to have because it would definitely make my life easier (I will be sharing it in the next few days so you can see how my gears are turning). I'm OK with wanting stuff, and some of the trade-offs that happen. But, I am going to work on cutting back and making the balance skew a bit more toward face time, basics, and creating love for those things in the boys. Let's hang out sometime.

Liars.

Anyone who tells you that the first baby is the hardest and that from one to two is easy has one of three things going on:

1. Has a penis. What I mean to say is that while fabulous, papas who can't breastfeed just can't grasp what it's like to juggle a toddler and a baby who is attached to your boob. Period. Ignore them on these issues.

2. A gap of five or more years between kids and/or the conversation and the birth of their second child. Time makes exhaustion fade from memory, and a kid five or older can help out, or at least not be trying to destroy the house and him/herself at least 50% of the time while awake.
I should note that managing even the most unruly toddler is a breeze when unencumbered by a newborn that requires about 90% of your attention and energy. It's also far easier to manage anything when you've had some uniterrupted sleep, or have the prospect of it surely ahead of you.

3. A housekeeper, personal assistant, and chef. Even I would agree that it was easy if my laundry, cleaning, paperwork, and cooking were under control without my energy. But even then, two is harder than one.

He likes his space.

I know the books say that you should not sneak away from your child when you drop him off at school. I got the memo, but apparently Henry has other ideas.

You MUST sneak away from my Henry or it ruins his day. I have accidentally said "see ya" a few times now, and it's no good. The mornings were making me tense, not knowing if he'd decide to hold my hand all the way to the playground, or follow me to the cubby, making a sneak-away impossible...

Apparently Henry also realized that this hit or miss system was not working. For the past several days when we arrive at school he walks into the lobby, points to the couches and says, "Mommy, sit down." Once I am sitting, he walks on down the ramp and out to the playground, giving me my exit. The independence he has been displaying kind of floors me.

Uncle.

Fine.

I joined stupid Facebook.

I will not enjoy it.

So there.

so...

...bret's on facebook now. look him up. now we'll be in the loop.

i'm still not joining, so there.

When you are on a budget, but fabulous.

I have an extended family that is not biologically connected to me, but might as well be. One of these "sisters" is a writer who is so clever it's sick. She is funny, and terribly witty, so her blog is really fun to read. And useful, too, as she always has fun fashion and gift ideas for under $50. She even gave a shout out to my little Toby (and we got a killer gift!). Check her out at Poor Couture, because who doesn't crave clever, fashionable, and affordable?

Support the Rights of Breastfeeding Mamas

Regardless of where you stand on what to feed babies (there is debate, see my discussions here and here), I assume that if you are reading this blog you support every mother's right to breastfeed wherever she darn well pleases, not to be fired for breastfeeding or pumping, and generally believe that breastfeeding mamas have rights that certainly ought to be protected.

Short aside: Why do I assume you are down? Because the chances that you are randomly reading this are slim. If we hang out, I think I would have picked up on your disdain for mamas feeding babies. If that's the case, we probably don't hang out anymore. Not trying to be a jerk here, but this is kind of a dealbreaker for me.

You should take a few minutes and go here to learn more about the Breastfeeding Promotion Act, introduced in Congress June 11. Not the first time it's been there, but maybe there is change in the air we can ride. Write, call , fax, generally harrass your members of Congress and get them on the bandwagon too. Hey, let's go to DC and do a nurse-in!

Living in Florida I have the right to nurse my baby anywhere I can legally be, but this is not the case all over. It's also not the case that you can nurse without fear on an airplane. Or that you can't be fired for breastfeeding or pumping - I have a friend who lost her job because she was committed to breastfeeding her baby. Not cool.

So take a moment and learn, and then get on it. Even if you are not a breastfeeding mama, you should support them!

Henry shorts.

SLUUT
Henry would be the happiest kid in the world if only he could read. It's not for lack of desire that he can't do it yet. He's obsessed with letters, and has taken to placing random magnetic letters into "words," reciting the letters, and asking us "what's that spell?" This morning he asked me what "S-L-U-U-T" spelled. While trying to decide how I should pronounce this one, I also couldn't help but hope that this was not some torrid thing he picked up at Ikea during our visit last week.

Conversation
Last night I let Bret take Toby so I could sleep. When I got up with Henry, I needed to both feed him breakfast and pump breastmilk because Toby was fed and asleep with Papa. So I decided that, since Henry has to watch Toby eat all the time, he could handle watching me pump. Here's how that turned out:

Henry: (pointing to breastpump apparatus stuck to me) Mommy, what's in there?
Me: In the bottle is milk for Toby.
H: No, what's in there?
M: That's mommy's boobie. It makes milk.
H: Put the boobie away, mommy.
M: Mommy needs to make milk for baby Toby. I'll cover it up. (I do, but keep pumping.)
H: No boobies! No boobies! No boobies!

He's right really. Boobies away at the dining table seems like a reasonable request. At least when no baby is eating that is.

Still here. Well, back I guess.

So my last post was from the wee hours of May 17. Funny. Before that day was done, I had given birth to my second child. Toby was short and fat, and very sweet.

Life has kind of completely flopped around for us, too. I mean, we knew going into baby #2 that things would be different around here, but I know I had no idea how many things would change so dramatically so quickly.

First, Toby's had a rough start. He was born with cataracts in both eyes, so he was basically blind. Our pediatrician caught it right away, and as soon as we were discharged from the hospital the day after he was born we headed to a surgeon who does neonatal eye surgery for consultation. Before we even headed home, we were scheduled for surgery on his right eye one week later, and his left eye the next week. We had to act right away to prevent damage to his long-term ability to process visual information, which is apparently a huge risk when dealing with eye issues in tiny ones. It has been scary as hell, and exhausting to a level I have never experienced. Overnights in the kids ward at the hospital are absolutely hellish.

Now we are working out a schedule of eye drops that makes my head spin, and he is already in contact lenses so he can have some focus (since he now has no lenses in his eyes). We're exploring glasses in another month or so. And lots of appointments. But Toby can see, and how incredible is that?

Second, Henry suddenly seems so grown up to me. Literally the day after Toby was born and he came to see me I was taken aback by how BIG he is. After holding a tiny baby, a two year old just seems humungous. Changing his diaper is weird, and holding his hand is different. He's also made a seamless transition to a big boy bed, and spent a week with my parents while we dealt with surgeries and recovery. He's like a little man now. It's wonderful and amazing, but it makes me a little sad because he is my special baby, and he's just not my baby anymore. (The hormones make me more than a little sad about this.) He's starting school in a week, and seems so independent suddenly. How I love this boy, and how I need to figure out how to let go a little because all I want to do is cuddle him, and keep him from getting any bigger.

Being a mama is amazing, but it has felt so intense these past few weeks. It's like the experience so far has been practice, and now I'm the MOM with a real kid, and a sick baby, in serious situations that require me to be a grown up, be strong, be brave, not cry, and be a MOM. I have to be tough and fierce and fight for my kids, and I have to make really serious decisions about their lives. I know, I've been doing this for more than two years, but somehow these past three weeks have hit me like a ton of bricks. I'm the mom camping out in the hospital room with her baby. I'm the mom handing the baby over to the doctor for surgery, and I'm the mom the baby is crying for when he wakes up. I'm the mom who suddenly refuses to touch dairy because it makes her baby's insides do scary things. I'm the mom Henry might have missed (I think he was fine) on his first visit overnight away from home, and I'm going to be the mom taking him to school and helping with projects and classroom events and all such things.

Here I am. I'm the mom. Breathe.

No, I am not on Facebook.

I think maybe we miss out on a lot because neither Bret nor I has any desire to sign up for Facebook. And we probably won't do it. I don't check the Myspace. I canceled my Friendster in like 2004. Seriously, can't we all revive letters or something? I know it's a lot to ask, but I miss mail. And really don't want to remember another password.

Really?

I found this funny. I admit, I was aghast to discover that both my Master's and my Juris Doctor diplomas would be in English. I guess Georgetown is out of step (which I should have known, I mean they call my Bachelor's an A.B. to accommodate the Latin, which is surely weird.) I have to say though, my high school and undergraduate diplomas look far more fancy...

Good friends

This morning I was talking to a mama on the phone. Me talking on the phone with a mama friend was something special in and of itself, but more on that later. She was talking about another mama moving away, and how sad it was because it's so hard to make new friends as an adult. Bingo! (She is such a smart mama.)

One of my half-written posts is about my aversion to the telephone. Here's the quick version of that: I hate the phone. I don't know why exactly. I don't like my cell phone or the house phone (yes, we still have a land line). I don't like picking up voicemail or listening to the answering machine. I'm not into making calls, and I tend to not even like getting calls about 95% of the time. I tolerate the phone as a necessary evil in my life, but I really dislike it tremendously.

When you really try to avoid the phone like I do, it makes it tough to hang out with people. Other people like the phone, and it is a very useful tool for making plans and keeping in touch. I'll give it all this, but I still hate it. So it's really tough to make plans and playdates, and moving beyond the kind of acquaintance, getting to know you kind of interaction gets pretty stunted.

My mommy groups have helped tremendously with overcoming this difficulty. I've found that mamas that I see because we have a regular meeting time and place have, by default, become my sort-of friends, and what's very cool is that many have become really-truly friends. Of course, I still feel like there are a lot of people in my extended community that I ought to see more often (or at all), but don't. Even with my mama friends, my reticence to get on the dang phone ends up making it tough to make friendships stick very well, especially now when life is shifting and there are fewer organized times and spaces for interactions -- meaning I've got to be more proactive in the reaching out and planning. I'm working on that pretty actively now.

I've been able to start the seeds of a community of mamas around me (or at least see that the seeds have been sown) but now it's time to get down to the business of really making that work. It's kind of exciting, especially now that I am not working and can be more flexible with the schedule. (I'm also a little more desperate for things to do, as trying to entertain Henry on my own every day is just plain crazy. Kid needs more variety than that, and frankly so do I!)

I am working on all this, because I really really like so many of my mama friends, and miss so many of my friends that I just don't talk to much anymore because of the differences in our lives. Getting out there is so good for me, and having kid-o's to hang with is so good for Henry. I see him learn words, social skills, even motor skills just about every time we hang out with kids, his age or not. It's going to be a little tougher pretty darn soon (Toby, hear that -- soon! Come on!) but I feel sure it will be worth it.

So if you want to hang out, go ahead and call. I'm into answering the phone right now.

Important thing

If you ever have a boy in your care who wears diapers, be warned: pointing their wiener down in is very important. Otherwise, you really will end up with pee on the floor. Promise.

When they get old enough to stick their hands down their pants, you're just in trouble. Double promise.

Mother's Day

It's Mother's Day. I get to sleep in while Bret and Henry make breakfast, so I won't worry about not being able to sleep right now.

I wish I could say that today was nothing but love and joy for me, because in many ways being a mama is all about love and joy. But it's far more complicated than that, particularly this year. There are several elements to explain, so I will do my best to unravel things, partly because working them out in some sort of order will, hopefully, help me think them through too.

First: Becoming a mama opens your heart to this deep, infinite well of love and emotion. To be able to love as purely and deeply as you love your babies is, in short, indescribable. I don't think I can even begin to think about putting words to it, because it is so intense, so personal, and so mutable. It's also so deep that you hardly notice it most of the time. But, it also opens you up to a range of emotions that make it hard not to be affected by the world in very personal ways, even when things have nothing to do with you. Everything becomes immediate if it can be at all related to your family, even in purely analogous ways. Your range for empathy increases infinitely, and, let me tell you, pregnancy hormones increase that range even further.

Second: I have never dealt with death in healthy ways. You could say I just don't deal with it, and that would be an understatement. I have been to one funeral in my life, in fourth grade (my great grandfather's). I just have not been able to bring myself to go. I have been fortunate not to lose many people I care deeply about, but have not been able to learn how to grieve in healthy ways.

Third: I miss my friend. Losing a mama friend just before Mother's Day makes it hard to find pure joy in being a mama on this day. It shouldn't, and I know I need to move on. And I will. But I miss her. I miss her particularly in this moment when I am days away from giving birth to my second child, and feeling excited and incredibly terrified. I miss her for selfish reasons (I wish I had her wisdom with me, and her assurance, and her love), and feel so much guilt about how poorly I have dealt with missing her.

I wish I could say that being a mama, today, was pure love and joy. I wish that I could say that about to become a mama again was nothing but exciting. But I'm scared. And sad. And also filled with love and joy so boundless I never knew it was possible.

I don't know if only mamas get to know emotion so deep that it explains the concept of infinity, but certainly it's a mama law that mamas get to know it.

Present This!

My lovely sister-in-law is incredibly socially together, and full of tip-top advice about gift-giving. She always sends the best (read: coolest, most considerate, best-timed) cards and notes, and ALWAYS gives the coolest presents. (I will add a few pics of the awesomeness she and my brother have sent Henry in his 2 years, and me and Bret too, when I can get it together.) She has started a blog about gift giving, and I can assure you, she knows her business. Check her out: Present This!
http://presentthis.blogspot.com/

More hours in the day please. And a few other things.

Ravelry looks like so much fun, but I hardly have time to knit at all, let alone let the addiction overtake me. I wish I could though. I really love knitting.

My to do list is simply off the charts. I need a personal assistant please. And a housekeeper.

I really miss sleep. I get some at night, and have been napping like crazy when Henry does, but it's not enough. I need to crash right now, but it's just not a possibility when my maniac 2 year old is roaming free and I really do need to get through some of aforementioned to do list.

I miss movies. We've watched some lately, but I am finding my attention span suffering from lack of sleep and distractions (like knitting and stressing about how much I have to do right now). I miss the movie theater (although learning to live without it has not been that hard, and I feel bad dropping that much money on 2 hours these days).

Generally, I'd like to have more of an attention span. I've been finding that finishing my sentences, let alone an adult conversation, has become a bit of a chore. I don't think I have been able to have quite the same sustained train of thought since I got pregnant with Henry, and that freaks me out more than a little bit. It also means I end up being stressed out about having had flaky conversations with people after the fact, which contributes to my lack of sleep and further distraction.

So, a few more hours to do some knitting, do some cleaning while Henry sleeps, and watch some movies would be great. A little brain boost would also be awesome. Of course, I would settle for a housekeeper, a personal assistant, and a masseuse. Just for a little while.

Really?

I'm so done with this can't sleep business. Of course, I understand that with the impending arrival of a newborn that I am not in for long, uninterrupted hours of sleep; however, this can't sleep business just might be near an end.

I also can not believe it's Monday and I haven't posted since last Wednesday. So much for goals.

Other things I can not believe this very early morning:

1. Gainesville community pools do not open until 4pm on weekdays (at least not right now). This is crap.

2. I had to make my Twitter updates private due to a slew of sketchy folk trying to follow me. What? (I get Twitter, but so don't get Twitter sometimes.)

3. I can't think of the 500 other things that were keeping me up and actually want to go back to sleep until Henry rises with the sun.

Note to self: Man, that was a lame post.

Busy

We have been so busy so far this week, and as of now, we will be for the rest of it too. Mornings have been packed, and afternoons have been spent playing in the backyard mostly (it's doing great, check it out!)


Here is a sample of my new life with Henry, replacing conference calls and drafting deadlines...

Monday: Target shopping for things we need, like storage boxes, shower liner, sponges, bungee cords (they didn't have any I could find), ironing board pad... you get the idea. Mall playtime for an hour (that place is a little bit sketchy, but he loves it and I can guard the only exit without running around). Lunch at Chick-fil-A (I know, I know...). Home just in time for nap. Afternoon art projects with paint and puppets.

Tuesday: Swimming with Alex, Mimi, Ben, Sophia, and Maya. Lunch by the pool, and home for a nap. Afternoon naked time with water and swings in the backyard. (Note: Naked sliding is not the best thing, and I think Henry's down with this concept now.)

Wednesday: Playgroup at our house, in our fun new backyard! Afternoon... hmmm (Bret's not home until super late, so we have to figure something good out so as not to go crazy before bedtime!)

Thursday: Swimming at the community pool with Karen, Sebastian, and Sarah. Possibly an additional playdate early in the morning.

Friday: MusikGarten (music class), playtime and lunch with Maya.

With 3 million things to do, I have been trying not to nap when Henry does, but it's very hard to get anything accomplished when you are ready to pass out. I have been doing some napping, but more nothing because I am trying not to nap (but can't quite get it together to work on things). All this seems kind of ridiculous, so I have a new list of things that I need to get done, and I hope to work through some of it this week and then this weekend.

I've also been working on a couple of knitting projects - Mr. Noisy and Brobee for Henry, and a blanket for soon-to-be Toby. I'll try to update on those pretty soon, but honestly, you may be waiting a while (the projects may be waiting a while too!).

Now I am going to go take a nap, thank you very much.

Yay for summer, so far.

Gainesville gets hot in the summertime. Really hot.

I'm not completely ready for all that, but right now, it's lovely. Hot, yeah, but not bad like it will be for sure.

We're all ready to hang out in the pool, in the sprinklers, in the backyard - anyplace Henry can have fun, run about, wear himself out, but not get away. I just can't chase him anymore...

Yay for summertime!

Open letter to British mystery writers

(and mystery writers generally, but mainly those brits)

Come on. One of you must be bored to tears rereading all the old Christie, Marsh, Sayers, and Cauldwell too. Please sit yourself down and write something new. And good. It must be good.

I'm going mad. Not even Wodehouse is doing it for me. I need something that is BOTH a comedy of manners and a good, solid mystery. And none of this gory, twisted, how-sick-can-we-make-the-killer crap that has been coming out of late. It's far worse over here, but you all are guilty too. (Yes PD James, I am talking to you!) I've been reduced to combing through my paperbacks to find plots I can only vaguely remember, because there is simply no fun in reading a mystery novel that you know through and through (with the exception of a couple of Dame Agatha's classics, but that would be TWO books, and I can't read them even one more time - it just won't work anymore). I donated almost all of my books to Books for Prisoners, thinking I needed to pass the joy along, not knowing my well would run dry!

Give me my little vice, my little substitute-for-daytime TV (I guess that's what it would be, I don't really know how the daytime TV thing works, but it seems comparable). I sometimes need a little escape during naptime or in the middle of the night when I can't sleep due to baby-in-belly going wild.

But please, I like it saucy and smart. Give me Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane, give me Hilary Tamar, give me Miss Jane Marple! If you don't I will have no choice but to take more naps or watch trashy TV, and these prospects alone make me feel dumber.

My knitting personality.

My knitting personality is sort of half-assed, faking it. I love starting projects, working through them, and giving away a finished project, but if something requires too much attention to detail (or math), I tend to just move on to something I know I can finish easily. I do enjoy learning new stitches, techniques, etc., but unless I can master them right away and integrate them into things I do a lot, I don't really bother. (I'd like to think all this applies only to knitting, but let's be real.)

I learned to knit from my grandmother Thea when I was in college. I think it was my sophomore year, so that would be like 1998 or thereabouts. I made a ridiculously pointless half-scarf in garter stitch and gave it to a friend. He was kind and did not diss it, but really, this thing was crap. It was like 12" x 20" (I had one skein, so it ended when the yarn did), and it was a mess. I had learned to purl, but it freaked me out, so I just knit - hence the garter stitch. I had no clue how to bind off by the time I finished the thing, so I sort of rigged the end of it somehow with lots of knots. The number of dropped and arbitrarily-added stitches was spectacular, and the tension was all over the map. Did I mention that it was bright teal, 100% acrylic? Uncomfortable, unusable, hideous thing. But, I was so excited to give away my very first knitting project, I could hardly contain myself.

I honestly don't recall if I made anything else for years, but I managed to pick knitting up again sometime around the time I took the Bar Exam in 2006. I made a lot of scarves to start. All in garter stitch, because I could remember how to knit, but had totally forgotten how to purl. I tried to look it up and practice, but it never quite worked, and rather than really working at it, I just settled for garter stitch and made a lot of scarves. You can get a fair amount of variation out of garter stitch scarves using different needles and yarns. But I exhausted the possibilities pretty quickly.

I was getting better, though. My stitches and tension were much more even, I was getting fast, and things were going well. I decided it was time to branch out... in 2007. I decided I really did want to purl, so I looked up tutorials online. How did we exist without the internet? Or, specifically, YouTube? You can learn to do anything. From like five (or fifty) different people. Between knitting blogs and videos, I learned to purl. I also learned about using circular needles to make roll brim hats. The hats made me swallow some fear and learn to use double pointed needles, knit together, and read very basic patterns, all of which hugely expanded my horizons.

Oh, around this time I also learned about proper ways to change colors, add an additional skein in the same color, and why having an embroidery needle for weaving in ends is actually something necessary. Let me back up - before this period, I would tie the ends of yarn together and keep knitting. I tried to time it for the end of a row if I was changing color, but just went with it if not. My knitting was just messy and basic - I accepted this wholly. As for weaving in excess thread, oh dear. I'd cut it as short as possible (hoping to avoid this at all), and then do it with my fingers, which usually made a huge mess of things too. It was crazy, all over the place. Not invisible. You see, these "small details" required either a bit too much faith (the yarn would, in fact, stay kitted together even if not knotted!), and a bit too much effort (I had to keep track of embroidery needles, and I lose these sorts of things). Now they are part of what I do (and I have my gear in a knitting bag!), but it took me ever so long to get to embrace them.

I have learned more since then, but really I stick to the basics because the next leap will require a lot more work, and probably more math. I can make really large simple things (like baby/toddler blankets) using a few stitches on circular needles. I can still make scarves, but now they can be much more interesting, and can come with coordinating hats. I have figured out how to improvise making my own patterns enough to make toys for Henry, which I really like doing because it's all messy and crazy, but it's OK. Of course, I need to learn more techniques to get better at this one, especially if I intend to share patterns with others (right now I just put the crazy messy out there, but knitters tend to be more tidy, so I need to work on that).

But the toys are really a good measure of my kitting personality. I learned and tried new things to make Muno, but I also had to improvise and fake it a lot too. I had to just make it work, with no road map and a lot of gaps in my skills. If you look closely at him, you'll find he's an utter mess of pieced together bits. But he works. And I believe he can make it through the washing machine, although I might be afraid to stick him in the dryer. There is something to that.

I can't make gorgeous sweaters or cabled socks (yet anyway), but I can make some stuff. Eventually, I may focus and really learn to do some major things, but I kind of like my simple projects. I know how often I toss Henry's blanket in the washer/dryer, and how he loves it. And how he totes around a red cyclops or wears his little hat (not often, he hates hats, but he wore it all morning the other day when it was cold outside!). I love that I can do that much. And that there is not a lot of math.

Another thought on the politics of breastfeeding and motherhood in the US...

I know I went on and on here on breastfeeding culture and the ongoing discussion/debate about its impact on women, but I had another thought. And you know, this is where I go on and on about my thoughts.

One point that I thought all of the critical articles raised that I think is valid is that breastfeeding is not free because women's time is not free, and it is a significant commitment - physically and emotionally. It can totally be seen as work.

Of course, women's work on every level is devalued in our culture, both inside and outside the home. But ponder for a second - what if we paid women to do the work they do caring for babies? That would be kind of amazing, and a step toward valuing it in a more realistic way. I mean, CEO's make how much, while women get paid how much to be mamas? And which job ends up having more impact on our daily lives and our society? I mean, paternity leave would also help, because fatherhood is terribly undervalued as well and offering real paternity leave would demonstrate to papas that we value them and their contribution as parents as well.

But back to my point. Changing minds about the value of the work of breastfeeding is a totally class-charged thing in the US. We live in a society that doesn't even blink when a member of Congress gets on the floor of the House with a sign that reads "Do not feed the alligators" to illustrate his point that mothers on welfare should be cut off. Whether we want to acknowledge it or not, depending on our own level of privilege, income, status, etc., the value we as a society place on mothering as work gets devalued when we degrade mothers on public assistance.

To be a family-friendly society, we have to deal with a lot of issues we have floating around involving racism, sexism, classism, and other deeply-rooted prejudices that are part of so many parts of our culture.

And that was what I was thinking.

So, breastfeeding...

I know I'm late to the discussion that has exploded in recent months, in part because I have been super busy, in part because I have a lot to say, and in part because I'm not terribly excited about trying to sort through all the issues. Breastfeeding is such a personal thing, and such a touchy thing - but I can't help myself.

I'll start by saying breastfeeding is great. I was a poster-child for breastfeeding. Literally. Huge photo of my mom breastfeeding me was part of the decor for the 1979 Year of the Child at the United Nations in NYC. My mom was hardcore Le Leche League, so nursing has always been how you feed a baby in my world. But, thanks to forces outside my control (nature? genetics? hormones in livestock?), I grew into some huge knockers, developed back problems, and decided to get breast reduction surgery when I was about 22. Oh my golly day, what freedom! Ye of small boobs, you have no idea how good you have it. I am still completely happy with my decision (and will likely have it again after I am done making babies if these things stick around, which seems to be what's happening...), but it meant that I had to deal with some serious physical and emotional issues when it came to feeding my baby.

Because I have this sort of bizarre perspective, I've really been interested in reading the recent articles that have been bashing breastfeeding. It seems like the first punch (in this round, anyway) was thrown by Hanna Rosin in the Atlantic with her piece The Case Against Breastfeeding. The title makes it sound a bit more inflammatory than it actually is, but it absolutely does challenge the notion that breastmilk is demonstrably better for babies, and does deconstruct breastfeeding culture in interesting ways. As this piece in Mother Jones by Debra Dickerson highlights, Rosin's article takes issue with the ways that breastfeeding culture has come to represent a new feminine ideal into which we must shove ourselves, dismissing the real impact that the work of breastfeeding has on mothers while whitewashing the physical and emotional demands as part of an idealized connection that a mother neglects if she does not breastfeed. Judith Warner puts a slightly different spin on the same point, proclaiming in her blog for the New York Times "Ban the Breastpump." She makes a stark argument that mothers of young babies should get more time off, have fewer demands, and be able to choose how to feed their baby without having to live like they are a dairy cow. She points out that we've fetishized breast MILK as a commodity that is best for babies, while devaluing mothers' presence with babies and making even more fervent demands of mothers' time for everything else in life.

I can't really argue with these points. I have to admit that part of the stress I had as a new mother stemmed from my guilt at not being able to exclusively breastfeed, and my feeling of inadequacy when I couldn't handle keeping up the impossible schedule of pumping, nursing, and feeding Henry formula for the first month. Honestly, feeding him formula completely freaked me out. I tried to time my arrival at mommy groups around his feeding schedule so I didn't have to give him a bottle in public. I felt like I had to explain to perfect strangers why I wasn't nursing, why I wasn't able to nurse, and how badly I felt about it.

And yet.

Breastfeeding is great. Breast milk is pretty incredible. After a friend of mine died just a few days after giving birth, I helped organize mamas to donate breast milk for her new baby, and I can't help but feel like that was important and special for her baby's early life. I'm glad so many women are committed to breastfeeding, and I am glad that there is a breastfeeding culture around me to make it an option for so many women. I want more real education for medical staff (see a great discussion about why this is important here).

For me, it's a complex thing. I guess it's tough to negotiate creating an environment that is sufficiently supportive of breastfeeding while also allowing moms to make truly informed choices about what will work best for them and their babies. Do we really need to make the case that breastfeeding is NOT great to give moms all their options? Why can't we have a blanced discussion that doesn't get entrenched in X is better than Y, period? Why aren't we asking more probing questions about the weight that we place on mothers to be absent from their babies? And why aren't we OK if moms choose to work away from their babies and pass along the feeding responsibilities to others (and don't pump)? Why aren't we talking about whether there is a new cult of true womanhood, and what this means for women's lives? And why aren't we working harder to protect women's ability to make choices about where and how to feed their babies? Or fighting to protect their ability to keep their jobs regardless of how they have decided to feed their babies?

So yeah. My contribution to the ongoing war of words.

Gotta have goals.

I'm going to try to start updating every day (or other day) because I have about twenty draft posts that are half-written hanging out because I am very bad about getting started and not finishing. This is true of many things, but apparently posting is way up the list. So is knitting, but I digress. Help me out and bug me if I'm not being good about this, pretty please. At least until I'm in labor, because then I might let it slide, and that will be just fine. I should go and finish a substantive post right now, but...

Open letter to the person (or persons) who, somtime in the past week, spent a little too much time uninvited in our carport.

Yo. I'm annoyed.

I know times are tough. Trust me, I know this. But stealing a kid's bike trailer and their helmet? Come on. That is just mean.

I don't have a picture to post, because I just never actually got out the camera when Henry was all ready to go in his baby bike helmet, strapped into the cute red trailer behind Bret on his bike. I guess it never really occurred to me that perhaps I should cherish those images because I would not get to see the cutie-pie red helmet with a little Amnesty International sticker on it again.

Yeah buddy, times are tough. I hope you needed money to feed yourself or your children, because that is what I will be telling myself as I try to let this one go. You see, now our 2 year old won't get to go for long bike rides with his papa (which he adores, by the way). Why don't we just replace it since he so adores it, you ask? Hey jerk face, times are tough.

Getting ready for baby... very slowly.

Henry and his baby monkey
Originally uploaded by Bret, Virginia, and Henry

Today Henry let me tie the monkey to him. He liked it, for 30 seconds. He would NOT let Bret change the monkey's diaper. Or let us read him the big brother book we have. It's the only book in the house he won't read, making it less popular than assembly instructions, catalogs, and CD cases. But maybe we put a toe in the right direction. And 30 seconds was long enough to get this picture, which is pretty darn cute.

OK, mea culpa.

Dear Henry,

Good job, sleeping boy. Clearly, you just needed more craziness and fun in the morning, and perhaps an extra half an hour before lunch. I'll work on that from now on.

I'm glad you had such fun with Maya at the museum. I can't wait to see how much fun you have picking strawberries tomorrow. This "being busy" is working better for me too.

Big kisses, Mommy

For goodness' sake!

Dear Henry,

I love you to bits and pieces. Go to sleep. Seriously, you are making me crazy. Sleep, please, sleep. You know you want to. You keep getting almost there, and then going crazy. Let it go. Sleep. You can sing Happy Birthday to Brobee and talk about oatmeal and applesauce when you get up. I promise, promise, promise. Shhh, sleep.

Love, Your mommy

PS - 3:15 is too late to finally fall asleep. Let's work on that together tomorrow, huh?

Clarification, or something like that.

Since posting this a while back, I have had a lot of private comments, and I want to add a little something to clarify, as I think I adopted a bit of a tone that made it seem like I had the answer to some universal "should," which is oh so far from the case. That, and my own perspective on "should" is quite a bit different now that I have been hanging out with a rambunctious 2 year old all day for several weeks, while also getting progressively bigger and slower due to being super-pregnant.

#1: I think it got a bit buried, but what should (ha!) have been the most important thing I said in that whole tirade was that every parent has to make a million decisions every day, week, month, year - and all of those decisions are a balance between circumstances, what your kid wants, what your kid needs, what you want and need, and how it all fits into your life. It's friggin' messy as hell. You have to make decisions and compromises on everything all the time, from what to feed the kid for lunch, to what preschool the kid will attend (or not), to whether or not you should take the AAP's advice on everything (TV, vaccines, car seats - I have to write about all that another time), it doesn't end. The decisions you end up making are as varied as the intensity and impact the decisions will have. There is no universal "should" for ANY of these questions, no matter what the professionals, your mom, me, your nosy neighbor, other moms, or any other "they" might say. The "should" becomes the decision you make, and whether I think it might not be the best thing is so beyond irrelevant that really the only "should" there is that I should shut my mouth.

#2: Decisions about life constantly shift. I was a working mom from the time Henry was 10 weeks old until he was 2 years old. In the balance, this worked for us. When it stopped working - or when circumstances shifted so that we had other options and could think about whether it was working - then what I felt like I should be doing shifted. I have a ton of respect for moms who work outside the home - it is exhausting to split yourself! Trust me, taking care of a firecracker 2 year old all day while incubating a fetus is exhausting too, but I have to admit that even though I am finding Henry incredibly challenging right now, I'm not the same kind of tired all the time.

#3: It is absolutely, 100% none of my buisiness how fast anyone gets into their clothes after birth. (And it's absolutely, 100% none of anyone else's buisiness that my butt stayed in some maternity clothes continuously from pregnancy with Henry to now because they are comfy my bottom clings to extra weight like... I don't have a pithy thing to say, I just stay fat, OK.)

#4: Mamas that make it work are good mamas, no matter what. You have to work pretty hard to screw up a baby - they are just resilliant little boogers. So mamas, ignore me and my judgmental self, and so long as things are working for you, power to you.

#5: I'm not a perfect mama, even when I try. To start, there is no such thing as a perfect mama. And beyond that, even when I try to live by my internal "should" compass, I can't do everything. My to do list is obscene. I'm sitting here, writing this, next to a window that has Henry tongue prints that are months old on it while within eyeshot of crushed graham crackers in the carpet from yesterday. I'm watching Henry spin in circles in his crib on the monitor, hoping he will fall asleep for his nap, knowing there's not a whole lot I can do to make him go to sleep since my belly's too big to let me rock him, and feeling guilty that his playing in there right now means he'll spend three hours in his crib since he'll probably sleep for at least 2 hours. Since I've been home with him, he's learned the words "french fries" and "banana popsicle." He's eaten fewer vegetables (except for tomatoes - he's eaten loads of tomatoes). I have developed a growning sense of inadequacy as a parent, mainly because his behavior is challenging, and I'm not handling that terribly well. There are a lot of "should" moments I let pass because I am tired, frustrated, or overwhelmed. But in the end, it will be OK. We're making it work, in our own little way, and that is kind of the most important thing (or I hope it is!).

Right now...

...being hugely pregnant is annoying the heck out of me. It's starting to get hard to put on my underwear, and I remember this being the portent of being done with it from last time around. I don't remember it happening with six weeks to go, however. Grrr.

Between chasing Henry, trying to manage the house, and trying to get everything together for the new baby, I'm feeling like I don't get anything actually done in a day. I kind of wish I had stopped working before I was pregnant, or at least before I was pretty darn pregnant, so I could have gotten things done around the house, chased Henry around all over the place, and learned the ropes of this whole stay-at-home bit before I felt like a full-sized home myself.

Ah well. In another couple of months something else will be annoying me, and this will seem great, right?

Menace.

When I say that Henry gets into everything, I think people assume it's maternal hyperbole. He's two, he's adorable, he's only about 3 feet tall, how bad could it possibly be?

We were at a friend's house the other day for a playdate. This mama friend has the most toddler-proof house I have ever seen. Not in a sterile way, but in a laid-back, sensible, kid-friendly way. Her daughter has run of the house (without incident). My friend's a mama that has this ability to channel both calm and control all at the same time, and it's quite incredible. She talks about homeschooling her now-2-year-old, and it makes perfect sense. (And I am of the opinion that many or most of us mamas should leave the schooling to the professionals, as discussed very well here. Right on sister.) My friend, however, will be a badass homeschooler.

By the end of our little visit, she joked (OK, she was probably only half-joking) that I should hire Henry out as a consultant for toddler-proofing. In the course of a wee 2 hours, Henry managed to 1) find and open the knife drawer, weilding the largest, sharpest knife in the house for about three seconds, and 2) open the closed bathroom door, find a bottle of cleaner with bleach, bring it in the hallway and spray it in the air.

I don't think we did any permanent damage. Mama, if we did, we will make it right. (I really hope the rug is OK!) So general warning: if you hear me say he gets into everything, or that he is like some kind of homing pigeon for danger, trust me, I mean it at face value. But he is still adorable.

New favorite thing.

Henry's latest favorite thing is here.

Whatever, man.

Baby, bonding, twos, and 2.

Recently, I have noticed a lot of mamas talking and writing about how it took them a long time to bond with their babies. I've seen articles like this, and when a mama friend recently wrote this, I can't even tell you how many mamas in our playgroup said that they had felt the same way. I've had mamas from other groups I am in say similar things, and had several mama-friends tell me that they didn't really bond with baby until the baby was more interactive, or that the baby felt more like an appendage than a person for the first few months.

This was not my experience. Although I feel like I am in the minority, I have to admit that I was immediately, wholly, and completely smitten from just about the moment Henry was born. Even after 24 hours of labor on 2 hours of sleep, I think I stayed awake almost continuously for the next 48 hours, unable to take my eyes off of him even when he was fast asleep. If I was unprepared for anything, it was the intensity of the emotion and the feeling of shift in self and surrender to this tiny person.

As babies go, Henry was a bit unusual. He was bursting with personality from the start. I had spent my whole pregnancy warning Bret that babies don't make eye contact or interact right away, and it might take some time for our baby not to look and seem a bit like an alien. But Henry wrecked all my conceptions of babies by making and sustaining eye contact the first day, holding his head up, smiling - honestly, it felt like he was actively bonding with us. He continued to shake my expectations throughout babyhood: he was like a clock, eating and sleeping regularly (with no prompting or "training"); he slept well, and consistently; he never got sick; he never, ever really cried; he smiled and laughed regularly at first, and constantly from about 4 or 5 weeks old. I could say that I tapped an infinite well of patience that made me love being a mommy to a baby from the beginning, but I think having Henry as that baby made it a lot easier. Trust me, I have no idea how I managed to get what might be the happiest baby I have ever heard of.

Now that I am about to have my second son, I worry about this bonding issue. If it takes me longer to bond this time around, how will I handle it? I know that as Henry has entered toddlerhood (well, really since he turned two) he has become quite a bit more unpredictable and difficult to manage. I have found myself far less patient than I was when he was a baby, and that worries me too. Will I find that well of patience that I was ready to tap into when Henry was born, or will the new baby get a much more high-strung mama? How will I negotiate dealing with the frustrations that come with a two-year-old while I also mother a newborn? How does developing a bond with another baby really impact your first baby with whom you have this incredibly strong, organic bond?

I'm also worried that because Henry was such an easy baby, I am totally uprepared for the reality of life with a baby. Maybe lighting will strike twice, and maybe my new baby will be super-mellow, engaged, and happy all the time. Maybe. Or, more likely, I will have to completely re-learn how to be a mama for this new person, and it may take a little longer to get to know him. It's nice to know that if it does take a little longer this time around, there is a posse of mamas who know how that feels.

From the archives.

An Open Letter to the Designers and Manufacturers of Clothing for Infants

November 6, 2007

Dear Designers and Manufacturers of Infant Clothing:

I know that your wacky and totally random guides to sizing are not really your fault, because babies truly come in all shapes and sizes. I have gotten over my gripes about having to remove scratchy tags and deal with weird, stretchy necklines, because these things seem inevitable aspects of clothing generally, and really seem to be inextricably tied to baby clothes specifically.

There is one thing that, no matter how much I try to rationalize it, I simply do not understand. You all need to get together and discuss this, because I think all of you are to blame on this one.

My nine month old has no need for hip pockets in his jeans, khakis, sweatpants, or any other pants. His motor skills are very advanced for his age, but not even the most advanced nine month old needs hip pockets.

I think we can all agree that pockets on baby clothes generally serve no practical purpose. Babies don’t have cell phones or wallets to tote around. I would guess that any toy that passes the toilet-paper-roll test would fail the tiny-baby-pocket-size test, and that by the time they realize that these little pouches attached to their clothes are a great place to stash a handful of Cheerios, those babies would have grown up to be toddlers. This hip pocket thing has been happening since he was born.

I concede that there are (dubious) fashion components to butt pockets, the over-sized pockets on the legs of cargo pants, the front pocket on overalls, and even the breast pockets on baby tees. In fact, I will go so far as to say that I have seen these breast pockets utilized as anchors for pacifier tethers.

I also admit that I while I think the above-referenced pockets are over-the-top on baby gear, I can see the point. Not so with the hip pocket.

In the wash, both adult and baby pockets are turned inside out. Adults can put hands in pockets to flatten them out, babies just look goofy and unkempt about half the time. These little pockets do nothing (even in theory) but make the baby pants more “adult-like,” which may on some level be "cute," but is really pure silliness.

Please, consider sewing these pockets shut and eliminating the guts of the inside pouch. I think you’ll find that this would prove to be a very small change in your operations, and might even save you money in the long run with savings on fabric for the innards.

Get it together people. All things considered, I think I have been rather patient with you all, and deserve this one thing.

Sincerely,
VCH

The above was submitted to McSweeney's Open Letters, but apparently I thought it was more clever than they did as it was ignored. My mommy message board thought it was hilarious though, so take that.

Favorite thing.

Henry loves this.

Just in case you were wondering what we were talking about during dinner...

Henry loves Muno - A Knitting Project

Henry loves Muno
Originally uploaded by Bret, Virginia, and Henry

So Muno is a dancing red cyclops (who is "tall and friendly") on the show Yo Gabba Gabba! - Henry loves to dance and sing with the show, and I wanted to get crazy with a knitting project, so I designed a Muno doll for him. It took kind of a long time - double-pointed needles for knitting in the round are great, but much harder to use with such little yarn, and when making such a little guy. (Hats are infinitely easier, I think). In the end, it was worth it. Henry loves his Muno doll, I got to feel pretty kick ass about making something for him, and now I get to share (I hope it's right - I'm a few months out from the original design...) You can see more pics of Muno in the post below, or on our Flickr page here.

I learned to use double-point needles (dpn) after reading this, and this, which were very helpful. They really aren't that scary when you give them a chance.

I used Lily Cotton yarn (Sugar 'n Cream) in some reddish color - eyeball the color, really the best idea. I only used one regular skein for the project. I used an ivory Sugar 'n Cream for the eyes, and whatever black yarn was on hand for the mouth and middle of the eyeball. You'll need size 5 dpns, size 5 needles, and a good embroidery needle. Oh, and polyfill to stuff it (but not a lot).

The "Pattern" (in my crazy little way)

The body:
Cast on 35s to three or four size 5 dpns. Knitting in the round will give you stockinette, so just go for about 4 inches (about 37 times around, give or take). Knit 10s, then knit 2 together 2x, then knit 9 then 2 together - for a total of one time around. You should now have 32s on. Knit in the round for about an inch and a half (about 10 times around). Now, start decreasing fast - I can't remember my exact math, but it was fast, like knit 2, knit 2 together, for a couple of rounds, then knit 1, knit 2 together. When you are down to about 10-7 stitches on, bind off by using the tail to scoop up the loops from the remaining stitches and pulling together. Leave the tail SUPER long (a couple feet), you'll need it later.

The legs:
(repeat this two times)
Cast on 18s on a regular size 5 straight needle. Knit in stockinette for about 30 rows (about 3.5 inches). Increase by one or two stitches, then continue knitting for another half inch (about 5 or so rows). Cast off as you usually do, and leave a good tail for sewing later.

The arms:
Cast on 10s as for legs above. Knit stockinette for 26 rows, then begin the decrease by knitting three, knitting 2 together for one row. Purl across one row. Then knit 2, knit 2 together. Purl across one row. Knit one, knit 2 together. Scoop up remaining loops and pull together, leaving bit of a tail.

Stick it all together:
Sew up one end of each of the legs with the tails, using the needle. And sew up the seams, also, so you have two sock-like things. Fill with a bit of polyfill (not too much, you want Muno to wiggle and dance).

Fill the body with polyfill (again, not too much, make it fun and floppy a little bit).

Sew the open ends of the legs onto the open end of the body, making sure the "crotch" is all sewn together. Put the seams of the legs in toward the center and you won't even see them. Oh, and it makes the feet look good too.

Sew up the seams of the arms, use no fill. Sew them onto the body about 2/3 of the way up the body (below the decrease you knitted, but not too low - about 1/3 down from the closed portion - the head). Of course, line them up with the legs, and put the seams on the BACK of the arms. They'll get floppy enough - no fill works really well. It's OK if they are flattish - it looks good anyway.

Use whatever long tails you have left to make the bumps. With the head, go in through the top and pull it down (you don't want a pointy head!) it's a good start. Pull the needle through the fill and make the bumps with basic sewing stitches - randomly all over. About 3 or 4 stitches make a good bump. Go all over - legs, arms, all over. Just pull through the fill - it may poke out a little, but it will be ok and settle.

For the eye and the mouth, start with the base color (white for the eye, black for the mouth) and sew on the feature. No real proper way to do it - just sew it on. Make a big tail and pull the needle through leaving a long tail inside the fill. This will anchor it without making it look bad. Oh, and don't forget the teeth (white) and the inside of the eyeball (black).

If this makes no sense, call me or something. And enjoy!

I will add some more patterns soon - I have bunches I have tried out, although many are totally boring and invented or have been stolen from great knitting blogs!

Coming soon...

Mommy knitted Muno!
Originally uploaded by Bret, Virginia, and Henry

Kitting patterns (or my interpretation of how to write a knitting pattern - including the favorite toy seen here), clarifications on past posts, eating crow, and my thoughts on some of the reasons becoming a mama of two makes me terribly nervous.

I'm just crazy busy this weekend. You have to wait.

Oh, by the way...

TWM February BD Party at Kanapaha Park
Originally uploaded by Bret, Virginia, and Henry

Henry's 2. I'm still kind of amazed it's been more than 2 years, and he never fails to amaze me. Looking back, he's always been kind of incredible. But then, I'm his mommy, so of course I'm a little biased.

Sleepless, and thinking about it.

I can't sleep, again. Pregnancy mucks up sleeping habits, I know, but it's getting quite ridiculous. When I was pregnant with Henry, I would be up from about 3-7 every morning, and then sleep until about 10 when I could. That worked pretty well. Now that Henry is a 2 year old maniac, there is no sleeping unless he's asleep. This means afternoon naptime, which would normally be reserved for things like cleaning and whatnot, has been devoted to power-napping for both of us. Which is fine, but my house is falling down around me. I'm also kind of nesting, so this lack of order is making me a little bit crazy. There is this tension between desperately wanting to reorganize, clean, prepare, etc. and exhaustion coupled with the desire to turn off my brain entirely. Evenings after Henry's asleep could, theoretically, be productive. But by then I want to sit around and watch bad TV or read a book, or anything but clean. It takes hours to wind down for elusive sleep, and starting projects at 8pm just seems problematic.

Only ten weeks to go - things need to happen! But then, the belly is getting more and more intrusive in my ability to move around, breathe, not pee every three minutes... How did I manage last time? No 2 year old...

And then as I was typing that, that little maniac sat up in bed and, in the midst of singing to himself, said (clear as can be) "Baby Toby" which makes all the bitching totally irrelevant.

Mama Law: We all have our own ways of doing things, and we can't help but share them with anyone who will listen.

With all of the magazines, blogs, listservs, community groups, classes, friends and family we have bombarding us parents with helpful advice on the "best" or "right" way of doing things, the Mama Law is that really, we all have our own way of working things out. Kids have different needs, parents have different lives, families have different dynamics, and communities interact differently. Mash it all up, and I don't think you'll find any two families doing things just the same way, or even one family doing the same thing with 2 kids.

That said, there have been a few gifts of knowledge that have been passed along to me by friends and family, random tidbits I have stumbled upon while feeling my way through the unknown parts of parenting, and tips that I have tried after reading them someplace that have turned out to be golden. Since I am prepping myself for another little one, I'm finding myself reliving the search for products (which kind of grosses me out, but seems to be a necessary evil of parenting these days). I am revisiting my favorites from when Henry was a very wee one, so here a few (they worked for us!):

1. Find a gentle, baby-friendly detergent you love, and switch to it for all your clothes, etc. Cuddling won't cause rashes for the wee one, and your skin will thank you too. A good friend committed to cloth diapering passed along the recommendation of Charlie's Soap, which has become a staple in our house. We started using it before Henry was born, and still use it every load, every time. It is amazing - no scent, super clean clothes, and incredibly affordable! We bought a 5 gallon container for about $120 two years ago, and still have more than half of it left. It's good to the earth, and good to our skin.

2. One good stroller is really all you need. Barring lots of plane travel (there are special demands and needs for that kind of trek!), one seriously good stroller is very much worth it. Again on the recommendation of a friend, we managed to convince someone to buy us the BOB Revolution. It's a bit heavy, but it's perfect for just about everything. No, you can't open it with one hand, and maybe I'd love that if I ever had a stroller with that feature, but I lived without it without a problem. It handles like a dream, Henry is super comfy, and even at age 2 (and over 30 pounds) he is not even halfway to the weight max. The shocks make for a smooth ride for him no matter where we go, and the sunshade is a serious plus in Florida! The extra infant seat attachment and the cup holder for mommy and papa are completely worthwhile investments as well.

3. Find a good diaper (or more than one) that works for you and your baby. I love Huggies Supreme newborn diapers. I have the utmost respect for parents who are committed to cloth diapering, and fully respect that this (or other alternatives like Gdiapers) is way better for the environment, cheaper, and better for baby's skin, but it turned out that these were not for us. Convenience won out. I admit, I'm with Ariel Gore on the cloth diapering thing: I find it suspicious that new moms somehow have to be the first to shoulder saving the environment. Similarly, I have issues with Greenpeace asking me to sacrifice my butt and my nose, but I digress. I'm all about the Huggies Supremes. They have no scent (scent makes me crazy), they are super-absorbent, and they are very soft. You have to find the diapers that work for your baby - some will get rashes from chlorinated diapers, some will need super-stretchy sides of one brand or another, and some can just use the cheapest ones around, no sweat (oh how I envy you). For us, the Huggies Supremes were perfection.

I also love Nature Baby Care (available only at Target as far as I know) for overnight diapers. They have worked better for our big-time pee-er as a toddler than any of the diapers designed as overnights, or even overnights with doublers. And these lovely things, while still disposable and problematic in all the usual ways, are more natural and a little healthier for the environment. They're pricey, so we only use them at night when they are really needed. We didn't try them until H was older, but I will probably give them a try this time around.

4. Buttpaste. It's fantastic stuff.

I'm feeling a bit like a product whore, so I have to stop. I'm sure I will think of more, maybe even things that aren't products. And I just had to ask Henry where his pants are, so clearly it's time to get off the computer.

Mama Law: Multitasking is a myth.

Stop, you say! No, no. Mamas are the queens of multitasking! How else would we get done all that we do?

Ah, but how I wish it were so. We get all these things done by sheer force of will, and we expend great amounts of mental, physical, and emotional energy to make everything happen.

Studies (like the ones here, here, and here) have tried to demonstrate really, multitasking is a myth. Your brain (my brain, her brain, his brain...) can't actually focus on more than one thing at a time, and this means swiftly shifting concentration really slows you down in the long run. Now, while I tend to raise the eyebrow of disbelief when I hear that "they" say anything, I have to agree with them here. Only after bouts with denial, my own real world testing, and even a bit of therapy have I concluded that no, not even mamas can do it all, and really not all at once.

And then these darn commercials screw with my head.  What!?!

Ack!

Has anyone else seen these Electrolux commercials with Kelly Rippa running around being super-mom to music from a 50's TV show?  I can't watch them without feeling like I have a split personality - on the one hand, I am completely offended and appalled, and on the other, I totally want to buy those darn appliances she's hawking. 

I would love a washer and dryer that are that fancy.  Seriously, it would indeed change my life to be able to do a load in half an hour and steam wrinkles out of Bret's nice shirts and pants.  (I would still prefer a gas range to the fanciest flat top, even if you can supposedly boil water in 90 seconds...)  We don't have a microwave, so I have gotten used to things taking time,  but I would be a liar if I said that our beautiful new dishwasher wasn't my favorite inanimate thing in the house because of it's quiet efficiency.  

As a life-long feminist (and a big old nerd with a Masters degree in Women's Studies), I can't help but be totally appalled with myself for wanting stuff openly utilizing such arcane stereotypes and reviving the cult of true womanhood to get me to want the products.  No joke, I have taken whole classes on this crap (for an amazing look at the intersections of marketing, technology, and feminist theory in the US, check out this book), and it's still working on me.  Ack!

Confessions

In the spirit of full disclosure, I have to come clean. I have changed positions on a few things recently - I have been vocally and vehemently opposed to a few things, and I have to admit, they have won me over.

1. I love LATCH.
I refused to believe that it could be at all easy. I refused to believe those straps could even feel a little bit tough. Seat belt installation is no biggie, why mess with it? Um, rock-solid car seat installation in no time (and I had to figure out how to get the things out of storage under the car seat, switch the sides of the straps, and learn how to take the headrest off the backseat of the car.) I am officially a convert. Congress, excellent move.


2. HDTV is, in fact, better than regular TV.
It looks way better. It really and truly makes a difference. (Sorry honey, this does not mean that I think we need to buy one, but you win the debate in the abstract.)

3. Minivans are really nice.
I've been driving my mother's while in Vero. Other than the fact that I keep hitting the curb with the back wheels when I turn right in a parking lot (this would be driver error, I believe), I love it. So roomy, so comfy, and oh Honda Odyssey you don't kill the planet like you somehow ought to at that size (and you have a cute little "eco" light to tell me when my driving is very efficient!). Talk to me in six months when we have two car sets in the back, I may even want to trade in the Outback - scary, huh?

Mama Law: "The question is not whether we can, but whether we should."

I'm in my last week of work as a prisoners' rights attorney, and I have been going crazy trying to get a case filed against the federal government before I go. I won't get to see it through, but I want to get it in place for my client and co-counsel, because it's an important issue, and the client really needs medical treatment.

In discussion, we've been trying to decide whether to bring a certain claim as part of the complaint. We've been debating the legal theory and the risks/rewards - we've been agonizing over it. The details of the claim aren't important here, but what a lawyer in my office said to me about the discussion really is: "The central question isn't really whether we can sue him individually, but really whether we should sue him individually." Exactly.

I can't get this out of my head.

This is kind of always the central question, outside of legal analysis anyway. So much is not about whether you can do something, but whether you should.

I'm leaving work because I don't get to spend enough time with my son. And I am too stressed out to truly enjoy my limited time with my husband. Could I keep working? Sure. I could. If there is anything that the past few weeks have shown me, it's that I can get tons done at work, make the house run, and make things run smoothly with my marriage. But is this break-neck pace what I really want? Do I really get to spend quality time with my family? Am I nurturing my relationship with my son and being the best parent I can be?

Recently, I heard a new mom talking about how she was in her "fat jeans" after six weeks, and was already back in her normal clothes eight weeks after her C-section. She's been going to the gym a lot. She's also "doing as much or more work on maternity leave as she does at the office." I hope all of that is working for her. Maybe it's my own six-months-pregnant hormones doing the emoting, but contemplating that made me unbelievably sad. It seems like yesterday that Henry was six weeks old, but actually, he turned two yesterday (happy birthday little love!). The time passes so fast, and it's pure magic. The thought of getting back into your life almost as if there is no change makes me wonder - should you do that? For me, it's clearly no. (Of course, I don't even know if I could do all that, but even for her - I wonder - she can, but should she?)

This notion of "should I" is central to my parenting style - how did I never know how to articulate it?! I am kind of a nut about making sure that we respect Henry's nap, food, and bed times. He can be a little flexible, but he thrives on routine. He has since he was six weeks old when he put himself on his own schedule. There are lots of things that we could do - events in the evening, lunches out on weekends, trips, etc. We could, but we shouldn't. It messes him up and makes him sad. I know other things work for other people, but I have to admit - I see babies being toted about at all hours, not allowed regular naps, and not allowed to thrive on being a kid, and I wonder - sure, that's fine, and parents can do whatever they want. But should they?

I sound judgmental - I am a little. But I also respect that people need to do what they feel, babies are different, and the should varies by family. It's balanced between what is possible for a family and what a family wants - life gets cobbled together where these converge.

I think it's kind of amazing that in these last weeks, these last moments of my current career, an offhand comment about case strategy would make me feel like I have a parenting center - a strategy that I feel good about (even though the reality is it's not always perfect or easy, but it feels good to feel that center). Oh, and we've decided we both can and should sue the guy, which in this case feels good too.