Is it just me, or does the idea of having to watch a clock, never stray very far from the hatch, and input the code every two hours before the clock runs out mirror life with a newborn just a little too much?
Lost as Breastfeeding Metaphor
December 4th, 2005You Crack Me Up
December 3rd, 2005When you beg and beg to watch “Duh,” (translation: Dora) and I say, “What is the magic word?” And you say, “Peas.” And I say, “Do you want to watch Dora?” And you say, “Okay,” as if it was my idea and you are just humoring me by agreeing to watch it.
A Mile In My Shoes
December 2nd, 2005I had no more than 3 hour stretches of sleep for over 4 weeks.
I had a baby chomping on my breasts for . . . well, she is still chomping on my breasts. They are constantly bruised, sensitive, and painful. This does not seem to improve, despite the fact that everyone says it “gets better” and that I have done everything that the breastfeeding experts say to do to correct it.
Even when I do get an evening away, I still have to pump. Trust me, that does not encourage relaxation.
I wake up from between 5:30 am and 8:00 am. I stay all day with them, I spend four hours a day, just with her on the boob. The rest of the time, I am holding her while she cries, or walking her, or rocking her, or cleaning her blowout poops. And at 8:00 pm, the toddler is still awake. She doesn’t fall asleep until 11:00 pm. We’re talking 15 hr days here. Sure people work 15 hr days all the time. But without a weekend break? Every day is the same. The only difference is that I am not alone on the weekends. What if you had to go into the office 7 days a week for 8 weeks straight?
I am not belittling what is done to help me, but there is something about being constantly on call that is exhausting. It is lonely. I wish you wouldn’t judge me until you have walked a mile in my shoes.
It actually really is that hard.
I Am Mother
December 1st, 2005Nothing makes me feel more like a cliche than a pot of water boiling over as I change a poopy diaper while my 2 month old screams her guts out in the background. Unless it is one of those days where you also add that she shat on me earlier in the day, and her big brother the toddler is about to start puking all over me in the kitchen, right before I get dinner on the table.
Happy Feet
November 30th, 2005Last week, I had the pleasure of leaving Rollie and Matilda with their father for an evening, while I went out to dinner and a movie. I had thai at Ma Li (my fave) with a glass of wine, even. I then drove to the theater, pumped in the car (strange experience – kind of makes you feel like a stalker, sitting in the car and watching couples and college kids go into the theater), and then went to see Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I wanted to see Walk the Line, but it was too late for this early riser. I made it just in time to see the previews, which I like almost more than the movie itself. I hate to miss the previews.
Since it was Harry, most of the trailers were for similarly-rated movies: Narnia (can not freakin’ wait to see that one!), a Cheaper By the Dozen sequel (did people really watch the first one?), and Aeon Flux (loved it on MTV, but the movie looks bad). Finally, there was some movie about penguins dancing. It was called Happy Feet.
This brings me to the real subject of my post. Just because you are capable, technically and graphically, of making penquins dance, does not necessarily mean that it is a good thing.
The Rings
November 29th, 2005No, I’m not so mad that I will stop speaking to you forever. I am not so selfish as to cut off my nose to spite my face, and prevent my children from seeing their grandparents, and all over a couple stupid rings. But I am so angry, more angry than I ever remember being. I feel disappointed in your greed. I feel that you betrayed Grandma’s wishes with your silly selfishness and desire to impress other’s with money.
But could you blame me if I did stop talking to you? Dad, how is this any different than you not speaking to your cousin for 15 years over a few household items? You were angry because he didn’t follow your aunt’s spoken wishes. (Make a will, people!) And I am angry for many more reasons. At least your cousin did it blatantly.
Mom, you lied about it. I asked why you weren’t wearing the rings, and I cannot remember what you said, but it definitely wasn’t “Daddy and I traded in your dead grandmother’s wedding band and engagement ring to buy me this huge rock.” What you had told us about your new ring was that you had traded in your wedding band and engagement ring. BIG difference. You say that you had no idea that we would care. If that is true, why would you have bothered to lie or cover it up? We are not stupid. Don’t treat us like we are.
And then, Dad, you go and pull your grandmother’s ring out of the safety deposit box, the one that you had given to Lisa years ago, then promptly taken back to put in the safety deposit box for safekeeping, as if Lisa couldn’t possibly understand the sentimental value you had for an object that belonged to your grandmother. Ponder this, Daddy: How would you have felt if Grandma and Pop had taken your grandmother’s ring and sold it? How would you feel if you never had the opportunity to give it to one of your daughters? Did it ever occur to you that Lisa or I might want to give our grandmother’s ring to one of our children? That in selling that ring, you were taking a family heirloom away from Matilda or her future cousins?
Sure, Lisa and I have other things that belonged to Grandma; You graciously let us divide up all the [worthless, except for sentimental value) costume jewelry that she owned. I have the rings that you gave me when I moved to Denver. The little golden “bow” ring is one of my most cherished possessions, because Grandma always let me wear it. I treasure all of it. But Grandma always said that she wanted Lisa and me to have all of her rings when she was gone. When that time came, you told us that since Mom had worked so hard with taking care of Grandma and Pop, that you “wanted to let her wear grandma’s rings.”
Did you see Lisa and I disagree? No. You know why not? Because you said, “Let her wear,” as in “borrow.” Lisa and I love and respect Mom for all the work she has done with Grandma and Pop, and in no way begrudged her the wearing of Grandma’s rings. Anyway, we knew that they would be ours one day. But if we had known that you were going to sell grandma’s rings? Well, that is a different story. That possibility never even crossed our minds, because it would be such a slap in the face to us and to Grandma. What do you think Grandma would have thought about you selling her rings, instead of giving them to her granddaughters? She would have been really, really pissed off in the Butler way.
You can say that “the rings weren’t worth anything” and “you didn’t know we would even care.” But if they weren’t worth anything, then why let Mom wear the cheap pieces at all? Why trade them in at all? Their sentimental value far outweighs any pricetag you might attach to them.
You might have known that we cared if you had bothered to ask us. Why didn’t you ask us? After all, they were supposed to be ours one day. Grandma said so. We do care. We would liked to have had her wedding rings. Not because they were diamonds. Because they were hers and we loved her and because that is what she wanted.
Dames, Dames
November 28th, 2005Seems Rollie likes Dames. “James,” that is. Since when does he get to choose a favorite episode of Thomas the Tank Engine? And why did it have to be the one that we had just deleted from Tivo? And why did the resulting tantrum have to occur right next to Matilda, who had just fallen asleep five minutes before?
Back in Black
November 23rd, 2005I had my 6 week post-partum checkup yesterday. This basically means that you go in and they ask you how you are doing (I have a newborn. How the fuck do you think I am doing?) and then they check your cervix. My cervix is fine, thanks for asking. This means that I get the okay for two important activities: Exercise and sexual intercourse. Woohoo! Todd is very excited about that second one. Sadly, I am more excited about getting to exercise. (Just kidding, Toddler.)
I started going back to the gym again this morning. I had not been since before having Matilda, and even then, I was just swimming, and not that hard at that. Boy, am I out of shape! It was great to be back, though, and like my friend Steph, Annie on endorphins is a much better human.
The drawback to having a newborn is that she is not able to go to the gym nursery until she is three months old. That means, for me to go to the gym, I have to have Todd watch her. That means, that i have to WORK OUT IN THE EARLY MORNING. [gasp] No, I am not kidding people. I worked out this morning before having coffee. I drove a CAR without having coffee. I spoke to that woman that takes your ID card at the desk, and she spoke back to me, and I did not rip her head off. For those of you that know me, this was a feat of unheard of proportions.
And I survived! I actually, once i got going, enjoyed watching all the morning gym rats, listening to Todd’s IPod workout mix (Isn’t listening to someone’s playlist almost like peering into their private thoughts?), laughing at the thought of my oh-so-tough husband treadmilling it to Back In Black, and making fun in my head of Katie Couric on the Today Show. I came home and got a shower in before 9 am. And best of all? I don’t have to spend the rest of the day worrying about how I am going to have to fit in a shower and a workout during the day.
I feel so accomplished! [Cue Back in Black.]
Pure Puke
November 22nd, 2005We recently gave birth to our daughter, and named her Matilda. For those of you who have experienced the saga of choosing a name for your child, the name selection process begins early in the pregnancy and does not really end until you sign the child’s name to the birth certificate papers at the hospital. But my thoughts have again turned to the choice we made for our little girl, prompted by the news that actors Heath Ledger and Michelle Williams also chose this name for their daughter, born just a few weeks after our own.
I experienced a moment of vindication at the news that famous people (those mavericks of the naming community) had chosen the same name Todd and I had chosen (and even picked a middle name, Rose, which we had considered for our Matilda’s middle name). Take that, oh bitchy woman online who, when asked for her opinion on the name we were considering, forewent the commonly-acknowledged-online-babynaming-community phrase “NMS” or “Not my style” (meaning, “in a million years, I would never choose that hideous name for my child”) choosing instead to use the much more acidic “in my opinion, that name is pure puke.”
Seems Heath and Michelle didn’t think it was pure puke either.
This elation at not knowing someone else didn’t think Matilda was total spinster material quickly faded into slight unease at the thought that the name Matilda might actually become popular.
You see, there are two distinct camps in the baby naming world. There are those that love a name, and will pick it no matter how popular it is. The choose a name simply because the like it, and don’t really concern themselves with how popular it is or isn’t, or how popular it will or won’t be in the future. Then there is a second group, who cringes at the thought that there will be another child with the same name as their child’s when roll is taken in first grade. I am decidedly of that camp. When choosing my childrens’ names, the top priority for me was that the name be unique. This is not to be confused with the “uneek” namers, who choose commonly used names, but then change the spelling. (See, Haley, Hailey, Halley, or Madison, Madyson, Madisen, etc.) For me, there was little point in naming a child something that will be used by numerous other children she will come across in the future. Isn’t the purpose of a name to set a person or object apart from other people or objects?
So my child’s name, Matilda, is suddenly spread all over US Weekly, Star, and People magazine. The name Matilda may end up being as talked about as Lourdes, Coco, or Apple. And that is not a good thing in the eyes of someone who was choosing a name based on how unused it has been in the last 50 years. Not only does it not break the top ten or top 100, but it has been in steady decline since the 1880s, and becomes almost non-existent after the 1960s.
At this point in time, Matilda is still quite unpopular. Just the way I like it. Will there be an upswing in Matildas in future years, prompted by it’s sudden appearance in popular culture? I sure hope not. But it will be interesting to watch and see.
For a cool graphical display of a name’s popularity over time, type a name into The Baby Name Voyager.
The Punk King
November 17th, 2005Bet you thought this was a really hip, insightful post about music. Not even close.
I love it when Rollie mispronounces words and they come out sounding like totally different words or phrases altogether. My current favorite: “punk king” for “pumpkin.” In a similar vein, I also like “chick king” for “chicken.” The francaise-sounding “chat” for “cat.” The cowboy-influenced “doagie” for “doggie.” And then there are what I call the “F” mispronunciations: “Pog” for “frog.” “Peet” for “feet.” “Pood” for “food.” “Pall” for “fall.” You get the picture.
But by far my favorite is pumpkin mispronounced. I love to drive my (bitchin’) van and hear Rollie repeating “punk king, punk king” as I drive by houses with pumpkins still out front. I am going to miss that next year. Or maybe, if I’m very lucky, Matilda will mispronounce “pumpkin” as “punk queen.”
Anything is possible.