asia, nothing, escapism

This baby is super needy today. Usually I can put him in the swing for a nap, but not today. Maybe it's a growth spurt. Not that he needs it - he has to be almost fifteen pounds, if not more! So I haven't gotten much done today. I haven't even taken a shower. Gah! One of those days. I absolutely do not know how I am going to swing work. I guess I will figure it out. It makes me pretty nervous, though - I don't know if I can be the kind of parent I want to be and have enough energy to be fully present. Something will have to give, I think.

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What was the best decision you ever made?
Niki

The best decision I ever made - I don't know! I mean, other than buying my house, getting married, having 2.2 kids (joke) I guess it would be blindly moving to New York, not having a clue what I was doing, paying more than double my college rent. We laugh at that rent now. I was paying $550 for a beautiful 2 bedroom in Astoria with my roommate. HA HA. My husband just sent me a link about Brooklyn rents now and the average studio costs $1700+. Of course that includes the fancier neighborhoods, but still! How do the kids coming out of college do it now?

If I didn't pick that, I'd say the best decision I ever made was going on short term assignment in Asia. I got to work in India, Hong Kong, and Australia for two months each. So great. If you want to see my photos from that time, here they are.

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What was your favorite childhood stuffed animal or toy? Do you still have it? Okay, admit it, do you still sleep with it sometimes?
Kassie

I was never that attached to a single toy in childhood.  I wanted to have an imaginary friend. I pretended I had one because I read a book where one of the characters had one. But really I didn't see anyone there.

I have a couple of stuffed animals still that I can't let go of, but they were acquired in adulthood. And yes, one is from an ex, but it doesn't mean that to me anymore - it's more about the place and time.

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In a world filled with more technological distractions than ever before, social networks, smart phones, etc, what strategies do you enforce in your life in order to stay focused  on your goals and living life in real-time to the fullest?
Neha

Now here's something to make you think. I'm not sure I even try. Isn't that terrible? I use escapism as much as possible. Before we had smartphones I read the internet all the time, and before the internet I had my nose in a book all the time. Usually fiction.

I do use my smartphone for lists. That helps me focus. I'm a huge believer in lists, even if the items have to sit there for months. 

Resolution: read more books. No, be more present. No, read more. I don't know. I'm starved for conversation.

As an aside, man, it is great to be using blogger. In Diaryland you had to html everything yourself and it took FOREVER. Thanks, Blogger. Thogger.

hooking

As I may have mentioned a time or two, I'm not working at the moment - although it sure feels like work to me, and to get someone else to do it I'd have to pay them $15/hour. That's the average in this area for childcare. I remember getting $3/hour and snack privileges. Sheesh.

If I could get a day off, and had unlimited funds, I'd go for a delicious plain croissant and a latte at the coffee place near me. Then I'd hop the subway to Soho and go try on many things. Since this is my magic day off, many of them would fit me in a flattering way, and I would buy them 50% off because everything would be on sale. And my friends would also be playing hooky and able to advise me, for lo, I trust not my taste.

I'd go see a movie by myself and eat sushi in the theater. I'd go to a fancy bar in my fancy new shoes (which I may have forgotten to mention - I was sticking my feet in shoes I never thought I'd buy but I found the perfect pair - also on sale!) and have one perfect drink and some fresh Long Island oysters.

I'd walk home over the Brooklyn Bridge, talking on the phone with my best friend, and take lots of pictures on the way. There would be plenty of time to bake some cookies and eat them in front of a marathon of Parks and Rec and cuddling with my guys and my cat, who would not puke that day, for stepping in and then cleaning up cat puke would be off the menu.

Or scratch all that and I'll spend the day at the beach, alternating topless bobbing around with feet in warm sand. 

Too much detail? Next time I'll stop after shoes.

the bumpy and the smooth

Yesterday's prompt asked about your hardest parenting or partner moment. It's hardly fair to plop a hard parenting moment on a 12 going on 13 week old baby, so I'll pick on his dad.

Probably the toughest thing I've had to come to terms with in marrying an introvert who's a few years older is that our friend groups won't intersect that much. My friendships are really important to me, and he completely supports that. Yesterday, for example, I had a chance to sneak out and join some friends for shopping for a couple of hours and he took the baby with no complaints, even though he had a million little things to do.

However! He is not super social himself, and bad at sharing news with even his closest friends. I see my close friends once a week. He sees his maybe twice a year. I hoped when we started dating to bring him into my circles, but although he likes and appreciates my friends, he doesn't feel the need to be as engaged as some of my friends' partners are.

This is disappointing, but it's not a dealbreaker. There are advantages - I've gone on many vacations without him since we've been married, and he doesn't mind a bit. He's not even an ounce possessive or jealous. I would far rather him be like this than the other extreme, even though I often have to twist his arm or go without him to social events.

Besides, someone has to stay home with the booberry.

I wish I could just say knitting or something

I never think I have any skills so this is a hard thing to think about. What skill did I pick up this year?  I had a drug-free labor, but that was credit to a great doula and a lot of good fortune, not just the classes and stubbornness. And I can get by, but wouldn't say I've mastered any of this really new mom stuff yet, not by a long shot. For example, my 12 week old baby finally got to sleep at 10:30 pm and that was after an hour and a half of cuddling and nursing and shushing, and have I learned how to do ANYthing?

I re-learned how to change a cloth diaper. The warning signs for getting peed on, if you pay attention. How to excuse myself when I can't change the subject.  How to pick up on cues and make an exit. That when the cracks start to show, it's time to take a break and be nice to me.

I don't know if I really mastered anything this year but I think I'm slowly getting better.

Oh! One thing - more of a trick than a skill, but did you know you're supposed to put in a bobby pin with the bumpy side DOWN? Right. So it doesn't slip out. You're welcome/Yeah I can't believe I didn't know that either!

P.S. Wait, you know what? All this new mom stuff was HARD to learn. And I learned it! And we are surviving. And I am damned well proud of it. I'll tell you one thing and it's not two*, I love that little baby so good.

*I had a Canadian friend who said that. Have you heard that before? It makes me laugh.

the bookshelf

When we bought our Brooklyn home, it had been a bank foreclosure and the previous owner stripped it of all original detail he could sell, and the reno got rid of the rest. Including the things that haunt me, two pink marble fireplaces. Oh, to have those fireplaces back!  A friend of mine has a story about her parents doing a reno of their historic home, and how someone found the original built-in for their dining room and sold it back to them. Someday I want those marble fireplaces back.

We had Brooklyn real estate, but it was characterless. Grass wouldn't even grow in the back yard. Hardly the stuff of Sesame Street.

One day, we went to Home Depot and bought an azalea for the garden. Everyone's got to start somewhere. My husband dug a hole, struck something and started excavating. Not a treasure chest, but something nearly as good. The original bluestone path! It went all around the garden and originally all the way out to the street.  Service people used this to make coal and ice deliveries to the kitchen, which is now the bedroom.

For a couple of years, the books we couldn't fit on our shelves stayed in cardboard boxes. My husband kept saying he'd build a bookshelf. Finally, with the bambino on the way, the race to become organized human beings was on. He spent months working on a custom built-in, and it went up tantalizingly piece by piece. It's all finally framed in and looks like it's always been here.  I love it so much that when it first went up I showed its picture to everyone and bragged up his mad carpentry skills. People inevitably ask if he is for hire and I say yes, but it will take four years.

He even put in little holes for the media cords. Genius!

for the fiftieth time today

The baby is sleeping - NOT in the bed with me, in his cosleeper! And of course since I can't actually feel him breathing I keep putting my hand on him. Can someone please make me a sign that says "Breathing, Do Not Poke" to hang around his neck? Wait, you're not supposed to put things around babies' necks? I am a Terrible mother.

tell me lies tell me sweet little lies

If I were to update my facebook status, which is rare, it would say "Day two of cloth diapers - OH BOY!"

My baby hit twelve weeks yesterday, which everyone says is magic. I haven't noticed any difference except if possible MORE stubbornness when fighting sleep. I'm afraid he gets that from my side. Anything interesting going on? Guests? Oh hi! Let's talk! We had three people rocking and soothing him and each time he'd nearly drift off, that little nap would refresh him and he'd pop up smiling. I WIN AGAIN, SUCKAS.

What's that? You want a photo? OK!

So today's Reverb Prompt asks when it's ok to lie. I will draw from my experience as a painfully honest person, not because I am super principled but because I am an oversharer, and just really bad at knowing when to lie. So here it is for my own reference. For the love of pancakes, Jen, lie better.

1. When asked a very personal question it is ok to gloss over it or not answer in full. No one wants to know exactly how your stitches feel several weeks postpartum. Unless they do. Some people do!

2. When asked by one's boss about how one feels about work. For the record, the answer should always be overwhelmingly positive, include the word "excited," and if pressed, the word "challenges."

3. When discussing a mutual acquaintance one has a slight distaste for. It is just not necessary to share.

4. When your in-laws are in town, lies are not only handy, but courteous. This can apply to parent visits too. Lie your head off! Say whatever you think they want to hear and it will go just fine. They are too old to change. And if they make a suggestion, say "Huh! I will think about that!" Then do not give it a second thought.

5. When answering questions like "what is your weakness?" or "what do you regret the most?"You may think it is ok to let your vulnerabilities show a little, you may even think it makes the other person more comfortable! Wrong! Do not answer these questions honestly! It is a trap!

6. The same applies when you are answering writing prompts like "tell me about your most embarrassing moment." Because embarrassing moments are usually not cute after the age of eight.

Wow, it is frighteningly easy for me to write this prompt.

7. When asked how you are doing, if depressed. It will help no one!  I haven't been depressed in almost a year, but in my experience a person can only help themselves, and no one will know what to say. The polite thing to do is say fine and how are YOU doing, or at least gloss over it extremely lightly so you can receive some sympathy or a hug if you need it, and then everyone can move on. (Edited to add: this reads weird, consider it a note to self. You should do what works for you! Do not listen to me! I am not a doctor.)

8. When admiring a pet or new baby, if necessary. Usually not necessary, but man, is it important to lie if it is.

role models, teasing, amendment, and recipe

Playing Reverb catchup today while a little boy naps on my lap. It's ok, he belongs to me.

As far as a literal role model goes, I was meeting with a nutritionist for a while. Her approach was gentle and supportive, and I love how she lives her life. She's a Pilates instructor as well, and I haven't managed that, but I love how she advises her clients to add healthy things into their lives instead of advising them to stop doing or stop eating a specific thing. Thanks to her I manage a couple of green smoothies a week, because some greens are better than none. I see photos of her enjoying jazz festivals and cocktail-filled girl weekends on the beach and I get that you don't have to stop enjoying food or your life to be healthy. She's also a beacon of positivity and that's something I want to bring into my life more.

As a public school attendee, I was teased some about my vocabulary, but more often about my clothes. My sneakers, most memorably. They were some off-brand and in third or fourth grade someone called them "bobo" sneakers. I didn't know what that meant but I knew it wasn't good. My dad was a teacher and my mom stayed home with the six (!) of us, so the latest Adidas or Pumas were not her shopping priority. We were always told we could either have lots of used presents from Goodwill or only one or two brand new presents, and we went for volume every time. I will still poke around at thrift shops, you never know what you'll find. In high school someone who went to elementary school with me asked what happened to all my "cool dresses" so I guess someone appreciated my thrifted styles.

If I could write an amendment - that's a tough one. I don't believe anyone can be trusted to make decisions for anyone else, so I guess I would channel Ron Swanson here. You know what, the best thing I could do for myself is not have to listen to anyone talking about politics. Can we do that?

Yesterday I made chicken enchiladas for the first time, and made the sauce from scratch. It was pretty easy even though I had to make a roux, which is always touch and go. I think the secret is not burning it! Who knew? I made ten of them, cooked five for the two of us for dinner and froze the other half. I'm such a SAHM. AND LOVING IT. I wish it could last forever and not just till September.

it's as big as a whale and it's about to set sail

My mom can't watch movies that are too gross, they give her nightmares. Nothing like that affects me, but in the past few years I have had repeated nightmares involving whales. I love whales and they make me happy, and whenever I fly over the ocean I look for them. Probably we're too high to make them out in any case, but I always check.

It started out with whales near my work building. This year I have had a few dreams where the ocean is exploding and so are the whales. I looked up what that means in a dream dictionary, not that they list "exploding whales," but whales are supposed to signify something that you feel is too big for you to handle.

Most people have normal kinds of nightmares, like people chasing them. Mine are about harmless megafauna.

I don't remember many of my dreams but after my dad died he featured in them a few times. The same thing happened after my brother died, I always have the dream where I think them dying was a dream but then I wake up and they're still dead.

When I was a kid I had great dreams. I'd sometimes try to go back to sleep and keep dreaming. Usually they'd involve meeting a character from a book and becoming friends with them. I never became a writer because there is no conflict in the kinds of stories I like.

the wine was summer caught and stoppered

Today's prompt asks with which fictional character do we most identify?

In the past my answer would have included Susan, from the Chronicles of Narnia, and in a more pretentious time, Zooey from Franny and Zooey. Now I want to say that I identify with every single character in Ray Bradbury's Dandelion Wine.

There's the story about the Happiness Machine, which the inventor's wife warns him about, and once the family takes a trip through their happiest and wildest dreams, leaves them desolate because it's not reality.  One story is about an old lady who tries to make friends with the neighborhood kids, but they call her a liar for telling stories about her youth and say she's stolen the things she shows them from her childhood. They won't befriend her until she admits she was always old and never had a first name. There's happier stories too, about a pair of new sneakers that make Douglas the fastest boy in the world. And about summer in a small town, sounds people make waking up and going to sleep, the music of the summer.

The story that's part of me, though, is the one where Douglas' best friend is moving. I'm going to summarize it from memory, and it's been years since I read the book, so it may be wrong, but this is how it's written on my heart. 

The two boys get together like always. Only this is the last time, because John is moving the next day. They spend all afternoon doing absolutely nothing, being frozen like statues, to stop time. I am Douglas in this story trying to boss time around. I'm the old lady who saves everything. I take pictures and write journal entries and save flowers and try to remember every golden hour. I fail, too.

I'm upstairs writing this after holding and nursing my little baby boy for hours tonight. He wouldn't settle down for me until just about half an hour ago. Even though I can't do anything but take care of him for much of the day, I don't mind. I look at his little ears and the down on his arms and the way his baby fine hair comes to a point at the nape of his neck, knowing that no matter how much I soak up every minute, no matter if I read the internet on my phone while I'm nursing him or spend the whole time looking at the perfect curve of his closed eyes, this time will come to an end.

I want to put the dandelions of summer in a bottle and drink it in the winter too.  I'm sure the Germans have a word for nostalgia for the present. I'd like to blame it on the baby, but the truth is I've always been this way. Having such a sweet, cuddly, good little eleven week old only makes it harder to see the weeks go by, knowing I'm forgetting all the little smiles and expressions and exploring little starfish hands. So I'm going back downstairs to cuddle him some more before I go to sleep, and wake up to his giant morning smiles and squeals.