Snow storm

Recovery

The plumber will not be charging us more, but the drip is still not fixed.  Apparently we have some super-special faucet that they cannot find anywhere.  By super special, I just mean our bathroom has not been updated since about 1950.  I like bright yellow tile, y'all.  And since nobody at any warehouse is answering the phone (thank you, snow) it will not get fixed until next week.  The bitch switch is turned off for the holiday, thankfully.

On a sidenote, I just looked over a cover letter that I recently sent out for a job I applied to.  I misspelled the name of the person I sent the letter to.  Doh.  How do you recover from that?  "Yes, I know I can't even spell your name correctly, but I swear in all other aspects I'm very attentive."  Or how about a nice fruit basket?  Do fruit baskets send the message "I swear I can spel"?

The plumber is back.

They're trying to charge me again, claiming this is a separate issue.  They have just flipped the bitch switch.

Trying to make her comfortable...

...is usually a losing battle. Or my concept of what comfortable looks like is just very off.

Stuck in traffic

But sitting next to this, it's not so bad.

Merry Christmas, hope you like your pipes.

I am watching my daughter nap serenely on the baby cam while listening to the plumber bang the pipes in the bathroom. I think he is making as much noise as possible to justify the $700 he is charging us for his workmanship. Merry Christmas, sweetie, hope you like your new waste water overflow.

Despite the horrid plumbing bill (thank you, Bonfe, but next time I will call Stillwater) it is wonderful to be back home.  I spent the last two weeks in Oregon and San Francisco, first visiting family, then attending a conference.  This was a geology conference, which is really just a codename for "drink fest".  Has anyone else heard of a conferece where kegs are wheeled out so that you can drink beer while discussing science at the poster session?

Needless to say, attending said conference with baybee in tow is much different than it has been in past years. I was very lucky to have my Mom attend and play babysitter for a week (thank you, Mom), and felt sympathy for other mothers toting their babies to sessions with them.  It's great that women do this, because it is a visual reminder that we need to deal with the issue of women in academia having babies (i.e., it shouldn't be reserved for women that have tenure, because by that point most women's ovaries are more like raisins.)  But I was glad I didn't have to be one of them.  It also wasn't the 7 day party it has been in the past.  I think my liver thanked me for that, though. 

On the last afternoon of the conference I gave a talk.  I was hoping that my time slot would cause low attendance, but it was actually one of the best attended sessions of the week.  I don't think I have ever been so nervous in my life, unless my labor-amnesia has spilled over into my personal life.  It went well, but I think it will be a while before I have the ovaries to give another talk at said conference.

I learn by going where I have to go.

I've been thinking a lot lately about how different this whole baby thing has been from what I expected.  Mostly different-good.  A short list of my surprises:

Co-sleeping:  I was really excited about this.  Something about snuggling with my baby all night sounded glorious.  And everyone I had talked to said that their baby refused to be put down, or separated, for an instant.  She lasted in our room for one night.  Then I put her in her crib.  She sleeps gloriously there (10 hours or more, thank you very much).  I sleep gloriously.  We smile and coo at each other in the morning. 

Baby wearing:  Again, the idea of snuggling with my baby all the time made me warm and fuzzy inside.  I expected her to never want to be put down, and this seemed like a great way to get things done.  Turns out, she's only mildly tolerant of this.  Starting at about 4 weeks she refused to be worn facing inwards, she had to see what was going on.  She prefers to be put in her Bumbo in the middle of the kitchen while I clean.  She is way too independent for her own good.  She's going to expect a private entrance by the time she's 10 and her own 401 K by the time she's 15. 

A difficult child/my own incompetence:  I thought early motherhood would be hell.  I thought I'd have a screaming child and no clue what to do for at least the first 7 years.  For the next 7 she would be self sufficient enough to make her own peanut butter sandwiches, and after that she would be making peanut butter sandwiches for me.  I was excited about having an older child, but babies just never appealed to me much.  They're so helpless!  They just sit there!  But, it turns out, my baby is different (yah, right, you say.)  She is all knowing, you can see it in here eyes.  She does fascinating things, like puke on herself, and coo during diaper changes.  The voracious reading I did during pregnancy definitely helped.  Once I had her, I felt like I was pretty well prepared despite never having been around babies.  I could name all the growth spurts.  What is the 4 month wakeful, you say?  Just ask the bump.

Marital strife:  Everyone said how having a baby made them feel distant from their husband.  I feel extremely lucky to say that I think it has only brought us closer.  We always seem to get along best when we have a difficult task that we are facing together.  This time, that difficult task is MJ.  Maybe this means we'll have 18 years of marital bliss, and that we better find something hella-difficult to focus on when she leaves the house.

Home Sweet Home

 

By Oregon standards, it has been bitter cold this week. Even by Minnesota standards 12 degrees is pretty cold. But it turns out 12 degrees without wind is warm by Minnesota standards; I don't think I've ever experienced that combination before. It's been great to be back home; it's great to have Grandma there as a (very willing) babysitter and launderess, and enjoy the sunny cold weather (a rarity by Oregon standards).

MJ has been so alert I'm not sure what to do with her.  She can't sleep because she gets so excited by everything.  Unless she is totally isolated she cannot sleep.  Even in a completely quiet room, she still finds the items around her fascinating.  Everyone tells me this is a sign of a very intelligent baby, which, of course, makes me beam with pride; they probably say that to everyone, but I'm happy to think my baby is the smartest.  It's just that it's already hard to keep up with her.  And I know this is only the beginning.

3-month-round-the-world

Here's something I do not recommend:

Planning a major cross-country trip that coincides with the 3 month growth spurt.

While DH holds down the homefront (and takes full advantage of bachelorhood, I am sure) I have taken Munchkin out west to visit her relatives, followed by a week at a conference next week.  I attributed her extreme fussiness yesterday to the 4 am wake-up.  And to her newfound alertness, wherein she is no longer the darling infant that simply falls asleep when things get too overwhelming to her.  Now she tries to take it all in, does a good job for a while, but then can't fall asleep for fear she'll miss something.  

Anyway, yesterday sucked.  The first time her uncle held her, as I crammed the stroller in the car, she squeezed out her first real tears.  I hate having to tell all her relatives "I swear, she's not usually like this.  She's a really mellow, happy baby" while they just shake their head in pity.  They probably won't meet her again for a year or more, and this will be the image they all have of her until then.  Lord, please make this a short growth spurt. 

Perhaps I am getting old

Because I just can't get on board with Twitter. Up until now, I have loved everything the internet has dished out. BBSes? Yes! (And if you don't know what BBSes are then perhaps you are the old one.  Or young one.) The world wide web, back when there were internet phone books? Bring it on. Search engines? Napster? Of course. Friendster, Myspace, Facebook? More, more, more. Blogging? Need I say more.

But twitter? Really? Why would I want to know your every inane thought and action? With the exception of a few people that I can count on one hand, I just don't care. Those few people can tweet and I would read, but no one else. Obama. My dog. Robert Downey Jr. That's all I can think of.

Domestication

The man I married didn't believe in dating when we first met.  When we first married, his friends confessed to me he had been voted most likely to never get married.  The man I married never looked at babies fondly. 
But today, me and the man I married took our new stroller for a wheel around the block.  And it was SWEET!  Great supension.  Smoothe ride.  Straight tracking.  Full rain cover.  This is something I never thought the man I married would be excited about, and yet there we were.  The Joovy Zoom.  I wish I had to here disclose that I have been given this as a promotion, but no, we bought it.  It is the most expensive vehicle we will probably ever buy her, as I think she should have to buy her own car. 

BTW, how does one get to be one of those bloggers who gives stuff away?  And gets to try things out then blog about it?  This is one of my goals in life. This is how I'll know I've made it as a blogger. 

Anyway, I've got to go for a run tomorrow.  We won't have many more days that are warm enough for a run (not that it's warm now.)  I'm a little bummed that I no longer have an excuse to not run, though soon it will be cold enough I'll have far too many excuses.  The only issue now is that our house is so tiny we're not sure where to put this massive stroller.

First Day

The fam left a few days ago.  And I then went into heavy duty work mode as I prepare for an (informal) presentation this Thursday, which is practice for a (formal) presentation at a conference in San Fran in a few weeks.  I also called our day care location yesterday to touch base, and it dawned on me that they might be able to watch MJ for a couple days while I get some work done.  It probably took more time to get everything together (bottle for every feeding!  bin for the diapers!  diaper cover for every diaper change(?)!) than she was actually there for, but it was amazing to have several hours of uninterrupted concentration.

When I got to the day care I was struck by how good this is going to be for her.  She constantly craves stimulation, and I know she will get it there.  More so than at home with me, when I'm doing work on my laptop and she stares at me like I'm the most boring person ever.  I really thought I would be able to leave her there with nothing but happy thoughts, but as I was leaving, I saw her sitting there, and she just looked so tiny.  Way too tiny to be entering this great big world on her own.  And I confess, there were tears.  But she was nothing but happy to see me 5 hours later, and I felt so much better having gotten some work done.  I know this is only the beginning.  I know this is the right decision for her; it's my job to give her as many experiences as I can.  It's my job to help fill her life with people who love her.  I am so thankful for all the crazy experiences I had as a child  (international travel at 5!  independent international travel at 15!) which I know were hard for my Mom (there were tears!) but which gave me so much strength and independence.  I want the same thing for my daughter, but I know it will never be easy.

Freedom

My mother-in-law and brother-in-law come to visit tomorrow, so I am enjoying my last night of complete freedom for the week.  I love my in-laws (and don't think they have discovered this here blog)but we have a very small house.  860 square feet small.  So it can feel a bit crowded when you have 5 humans and a dog sharing the space; little things like freely nursing become more constrained.  Motherhood has significantly reduced my modesty, but I still don't feel like showing my stretch marks to the world. 

But we have an exciting week ahead of us.  MJ's christening tomorrow, a week of baking, a turkey to fry, and an on-demand babysitter.  Posting may be slim (or extensive, depending how things go.)  Enjoy the deep philosophical ponderings of Vito and MJ.

Crib Cam

Not to freak you out, but our baby has a live video feed on the internets. 24 hours a day, you can see her thrash and snooze in her crib. Well, this would be true if she were actually sleeping in her crib, but in theory it's good. Furthermore, you can remotely control the camera, so you can watch me stumble in at 4 am with my sleeping mask atop my head and my shirt still in nursing-ready position.

Yes, folks, we have a web-cam attached to her crib that broadcasts her every little grunt and flail. This feed is password protected, and only the grandparents and other close relatives have the password.

But such an arrangement begs the question: how long can we keep this up? I have started to wonder when we will have to remove the camera from her room. And when she will understand what it is. At what point does a child need privacy? At some point I know they demand privacy, sometime around the time they discover that the opposite sex isn't aways gross. But do they need privacy before they even demand it? I haven't decided on this one yet.

And best of all, will she think we are just omniscient when we know that she has been climbing on her crib while she's supposed to be taking a nap? Let's just hope she doesn't hold this against us when she begs for a live internet feed at the age of 13.

Better living through blogging

There are a number of blogs I read written by women I would like to meet. Some of these are even local folks who I feasibly could meet. But how would one go about such a thing? Is that stalking?

I have a hard enough time getting the balls to befriend a real-life person. You know how it goes; you meet someone you like, someone you could see yourself befriending. Then you what? Ask for their cell number? Call them and ask if they want to go for a walk? Or get coffee? Or skip rocks in the local pond? Or play laser tag in the park? See, I'm not very good at this. I'm getting better, largely with the help of my husband, who is responsible for me figuring out the "get their cell phone number" part. I usually ask for their email address, because that's the kind of geek I am, but that requires planning an event in advance and emailing them in advance, which I'm not good at. Cell phones allow for more last minute planning.

Anyway, how do you befriend someone in the blogosphere? I guess you start off by internet stalking them. See if you can find them on Amazon and get their address. Then do repeated drive-bys of their house until you have their schedule figured out. Then arrange a casual run-in when they are emptying their trash, and off-handedly mention that you read their blog. This seems totally feasible, I should really get on that.

On cleanliness

Any time I actually buckle down and clean a room, I realize it really doesn't take as long as I have built it up in my head. In fact, if I spent less time farting around the internet, I would probably have a sparkling house and still have enough time to paint my toenails.

My kitchen floors have been grossing me out for weeks. One of the consequences of lactating is not just milk-stained shirts (and thus lots more laundry) but dirty floors when you drip all over them. (Am I grossing anyone else out?) Then those sticky milk drips collect dirt. So I buckled down and cleaned my kitchen today, including the floors, which is probably my least favorite cleaning activity. And you know what? It only took an hour. From top to bottom. Including a good scrub down of the microwave. Now, to be fair, I know have much lower standards than most people (not including my taste in men, DH). But I put it off for weeks and in 1 hour I was able to make my brain at peace.

This was only possible because I have discovered something about my dear child: even though she thinks she's all grown up and doesn't need to sleep during the day, she is wrong. She dropped her afternoon nap about 2 weeks ago, and was thus only getting very short cat naps during the day. And she was also grumpy, which I attributed to some feeding issue. But yesterday I forced her to sleep by placing her in her crib and closing the door, thus shutting her off from stimulation. She fussed a bit, but didn't cry (I'm not a monster). And after about 20 minutes she was asleep (how I love a video monitor).

She is like her father. She will sacrifice sleep if anything remotely interesting is going on (which includes just staring at me). She wants to be part of it all. She wants to stay up late, drinking martinis and talking about boys. She wants to carouse the neighborhood and TP houses. And unless I force her to take some time for herself, she will think she can do it all. I suspect this is a trait that will stay with her for a while.

So the cleaning only happened because I discovered the beauty of forcing her to take an afternoon nap. She is happier, my house is cleaner, and now I even have time to watch the season finale of Mad Men.

Strike negotiations

I am trying to avoid an impending strike. MJ is seriously contemplating quitting the bottle. And since I never thought to make her sign a contract, we're having negotiations, most of which consist of very tragic faces on her part.

It actually gives me immense satisfaction to know I am enough for her, she doesn't need some plastic contraption for fulfillment. Because when she's a teenager she will much prefer the plastic contraption to me. But the idea of being tied at the boob to my child is rather terrifying, so negotiations will continue until we come to some agreement. A strike is just not an option.

Watch out for exploding uteri

Seriously. MJ wore this to mass, I was afraid every womb in the place was going to simultaneously contract. She's just that cute.

 

Sleeping through the night

So here I go, imparting all my vast mama wisdom (similar to a 1st grader telling you the secret to achieving academic success). Here's the recipe that seems to be the reason our baybee sleeps through the night.

1. When the pediatrician tells you to supplement with pumped milk because your baby has lost too much weight, completely disregard the amount she told you to feed your baby and cram her full of as much milk as she wants, even if she pukes half of it back up. This stretches out your baby's stomache and causes her to demand more milk, and also causes her to gain a whopping 12 ounces in 3 days.

2. When the pediatrician tells you you really don't need to feed your baybee so much, and that she doesn't need to gain weight so fast, you listen intently. You try to implement this, but now she has come to expect a lot of milk when she's hungry. Her stomache is stretched.

3. Try your darnedest to reduce the amount of milk required at each feeding, because your boobs just aren't that big and can't hold that much milk. Fail, utterly.

4. Adapt to the status quo. She feeds all day long, cluster feeding in the morning and evening. Since your boobs can't possibly produce milk that fast, you implement a power pumping session after she goes to bed so that you can have extra milk to supplement her during the day.

5. This baby stomache is now the Hummer of baby stomache's. Tough to fill, but since it allows her to sleep through the night, your baby is a status symbol that causes jealousy in other moms. Put her down at 9 pm, pump for a while for the next days feedings. Have a glasss of wine and watch your favorite TV show, knowing she will not wake until ~6 am.

P.S. Make sure to put her in one of the snazzy night time diapers before she goes down.

Luckiest mama alive

Okay, I haven't been talking much about Madeline. Being as this is, unavoidably, a mommy blog, I am supposed to talk about my baby. That's how these things work. That's what people expect out of a mommy blog. So why haven't I been talking much about my darling baby? Because all those mama's will slaughter me. Because, truly, I have been blessed with one of the easiest infants ever.

Don't believe me? She was sleeping through the night by 2 weeks. By three weeks she was sleeping between 6 to 8 hrs a night, and at two months she's up to 8 to 10 hrs a night. This is a breastfed baby. She wakes up happy. She cries when she's hungry or needs to be fed. We might have a total of 15 minutes of unexplained crying throughout the day, and the rest of the time she is happy. She predictably takes a nap from ~1 pm to 5 pm. She nurses well. She smiles a lot.

That is why I don't talk much about her. Because I'm afraid I will be hunted down for being happy and well rested. You are not supposed to have a 1 month old and feel sane, apparently. It starts to become more acceptable to be sane with a 2 month old, which is why I'm finally coming out of the closet.