I let nablogpomo go to shit since it was impossible to write over TG. Now 'M
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+++++++++++\TRYING TO WRITE while pumping with a cat licking my fingers and arms incessantly. This is the result of that effort. grrrrrrr.
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in approximately two hours, we will embark on a grueling 10 hour journey with our 10 month old. wish me luck!

good news

I am very happy to say that K. (and I) had orientation at his new daycare today and I feel very happy about the choice. It's a great facility, the teachers were very warm to him and seemed to have loving relationships with the other babies there, and were very open to my involvement. K. was excited to explore a new room with new toys and things to do. Now that he is 10 mos. I do think he will benefit from a new experience and a little socialization. I don't think I'm just rationalizing either. Of course, I am steeling myself for separation anxiety.

I'm not sure how much I will be blogging over the next few days as we leave tomorrow to spend TG with Derek's family. I'm very excited about that too. Can I just tell you some of the lovely things we'll be eating?
sweet potatoes with raisins and apples
eggplant parmesan
apple pie
pecan pie

Books

I feel even more sick today than I did yesterday. But I already used that excuse!

So let's talk about books.

My reading "style" changed dramatically upon the birth of K. I did not stop reading entirely by any means, in fact, the newborn days were spent with many lovely hours where he would nurse contentedly and without being distracted while I happily read. Sometimes this was at two, three, or four in the morning, and sometimes the fact that I had something I was looking forward to reading was what really got me through those late night nursing sessions. But my attention span has changed. My willingness to be challenged in a certain way has been (hopefully) temporarily suspended. Although I used to love reading Dickens and Hardy and Eliot, I've given up on trying since K. was born. I have no stamina. I tried for over a month to read Martin Chuzzlewit but gave up, maybe for good. (too satirical! no sympathetic characters!) Weeks upon weeks have been spent reading nothing but the New Yorker, or crime novels given handed over by my husband.

A recommendation of good contemporary fiction is the best thing anyone could give me right now. (So if anyone wants to comment on this, please recommend away.)

That said, there are three books I've read since K. was born that I want to recommend.

1. Brookland by Emily Barton. This is sort of an odd cross between historical fiction and magical realism about three eighteenth century sisters living in early Brooklyn, running a gin distillery and trying to build a bridge from Brooklyn to Manhattan. If I remember correctly, it was a bit hard to get into, but once I did, I loved it, since the author created such a richly observed world. This was mostly read during late-night nursings and I always looked forward to it.

2. Fun Home by Alison Bechdel. I love graphic novels, when they are well done, in general. And though I haven't read it in years, I used to be a fan of Dykes to Watch Out For, so I was excited to read Bechdel's first novel/memoir. It is a deeply personal and touching account of a very difficult parent/child relationship.

3. His Dark Materials (the entire trilogy, since I read it in one volume) by Philip Pullman. This is supposedly children's fiction but I would recommend it to anyone with an open mind. It might be one of my favorite books ever. So rich and imaginative while sharply allegorical - and critical of organized religion, particularly the judeo-christian kind. I was sad when I finished it and immediately went back and read parts of it over again.

nablopoblome

K. and I both have a cold, an achy yucky snotty cold, his second this month. I feel too crappy to write today. Bleah.

AP schmapee

My dear Bri at unwellness.com (no, I have not learned how to make links yet dammit) wrote a bit about Dr. S*ears and how he is full of crap, and I decided I wanted to put in my two cents about that.

I agree with Bri, that Sears named his mish-mosh of parenting ideas "attachment" in order to align himself with attachment theory, a perfectly sound psychological theory about how the quality of attachment infants form with their primary caregivers impacts psychological development, in particular, the capacity for intimacy and for attaching healthily to one's own children. Nowhere in this theory is there a statement that in order to form a healthy attachment one must carry their baby all the time, co-sleep, breastfeed, and respond immediately to every whimper.

Wouldn't it be nice for all of us if there were such a recipe for parenting. How simple life would be. OK, if I carry my baby and sleep with my baby and do everything Sears or some book tells me (for there are similar "recipes" on the other end of the spectrum) then everything will turn out fine! Unfortunately, you can apply all the parenting techniques you want and you can still fuck up your kid. Or have your kid turn out just fine.

There is another psychological concept, this one coined by DW W*innicott, a psychoanalytic/object relations/child psychotherapist hero of mine. This concept is "the good enough mother" which I think we can modernize and call "the good enough parent." The GEP is not following a recipe, rather, the GEP has enough basic psychological health of their own to attach to their infant and provide a nurturing environment, however that might look for that particular family.

This was hard for me to believe (though I knew it objectively) as a first time parent, especially when K. was tiny. How I devoured parenting books. How I longed for a recipe. But now I think the recipe is this: Do not beat your child. Do not neglect your child. Find what feels right for your family and do it. But DO look into your own psychological health and be as self-aware as possible. Get yourself a little therapy if you think you need it (or a lot). Because that's where we have the potential to pass on whatever pathology might have been passed onto us. Not in the grand gestures, but in the subtle undercurrents. That's where we can get tripped up as parents. It's not like I obsess about this, but I do try to be aware (and probably miss things right and left).

a little mama guilt

So, it's done, we're sending K. to the expensive daycare, and basically I will be working to send K. to daycare. In other words, I will be making a negligible amount of money until the summer, when he will be in the toddler program and can go p/t. So I am working just for ME. My income will not really be contributing all that much to the family, I will just be working to satisfy my sense of professional identity, basically.
It's a great program and I think the socialization will be good for K. I'm sure I won't feel guilty once we get into the swing of things and he gets through his separation anxiety hump. And I wish I didn't feel guilty doing something for me. But this seems to be a bit of a pattern. I better watch it, I never set out to be a martyr.

update

My job is so nice and flexible that I even got to take K. to a meeting at my office today since I'm without childcare. He sat around on the floor banging a roll of wrapping paper (huge fun) while we discussed cases. My co-workers and supervisor didn't bat an eye.
I really don't want to quit my job. My quality of life here has gone up so much since I started working, and I think I will just feel so negative if I quit. Then I get that attitude of "I gave up everything." I know I have what's most important: a wonderful marriage and baby. But I need something for myself too. That's just the reality of who I am. I definitely am thankful to only need to work p/t, but the balance of work and home is tremendously good for me.
So I'm going into it now with the attitude of we HAVE to make this work. I'm feeling much more confident that we'll come up with a solution. Even if it means that when we get through paying for daycare I might as well be volunteering. You think I'm kidding. My exaggeration is slight.

insomnia

The only thing saving my nablopomo record is the fact that I can't sleep - so worried about the decisions we need to make. I called about 20 daycares today - only found three with openings in the near future. Looked at one today, didn't like it, I'll see the other two later this week.
I'm getting really worried that I'm going to have to quit my job. If I do, I'll have to make the most of it. Unfortunately at times I feel that my job is really keeping me sane. I'm pretty identified with the work that I do. I love being with K., but have really been doing best with both. BUT I can't leave him in care that I don't feel good about. Already I'm freaking out that if my babysitter, who I trusted, just quit on me like that then who knows what was going on behind closed doors. You know? If someone isn't what they seem, who knows what other ways they were faking. Was she really treating him well? Because to leave without giving any notice really feels like a way of saying f/u.

what the f

Yet another babysitter quit on us today, without giving notice, just didn't show up, hasn't called or returned messages. Obviously not coming back.
I'm not going to say much more about it here, at least not right now, but we'll be weighing our options and calling lots of daycares tomorrow.
I wonder if I'll be able to keep my job. I won't leave K. with another babysitter.

a sad little city

For a long while I've wanted to post about the city where I currently live, and have lived for close to a year and a half now. I'd really like this post to include pictures, but I've not taken any myself yet, so unless I can find some web images, that part will have to wait for later.

For the sake of some preservation of anonymity, I'm not going to name this city. So if you don't know me in real life, for the sake of description, this is a small midwestern city that has seen better times. I had never lived anywhere like this before. First, as a Navy brat, growing up we never lived anywhere less than a fifteen minute drive from the ocean. And for the past 16 or so years, I lived only in major urban areas: San Francisco, New York, LA.

I was determined to look for the best here and to not make assumptions that I wouldn't like it. So I felt a little like crying when I would meet people here (locals) who would say to me: "Oh, you just moved here? I'm so sorry."

There are good things about this city: a wonderful park system, a great farmer's market, people who are much, much friendlier than in the big coastal cities where I've lived. I have to say I've gained a lot of affection for this little city, it's been good to me in many ways. I've found good friends, and my son was brought into the world the best way possible.

But it's a sad little city that has seen better days. I don't mean sad as in pathetic, I mean as in: I feel sad for it. This city boomed with the auto industry and before, but since we've moved here, there have been even more plant closings. So you can imagine - the economy continues to be decimated.

I had this false image, before I moved here, that all the old auto towns would just be bleak, ugly, flat. But this is not true. The inner parts of this city have some of the most beautiful urban areas I have ever seen. (This is where the pictures should come in.) There are blocks and blocks of old houses that take my breath away. Tree lined streets with all the fall colors. Yet the city keeps emptying out. There is a tiny movement towards revitalization, but it's swimming upstream. These beautiful blocks are dotted with boarded up houses. The city schools are said to be some of the worst in the nation. Meanwhile, the outer ring suburbs keep building up and up and out, mcmansion after mcmansion after strip mall after big box store, and the suburban part of the city becomes increasingly sprawling and de-centralized.

So it's an economic thing (plant closings) and a cultural thing. The cultural piece is the apparent coveting of the sprawl and the supposed ease of suburban living (although myself, I find it much more of a pain in the ass to climb in and out of a car all the time). And there is the fear and mythology built up around the urban parts, stemming from a lot of racism and classism, that makes revitalization slow if at all possible. It's a wasted potential, in my mind, and sometimes I feel quite infuriated by the building out and out and out while this beautiful historic core is laid to waste. Unfortunately, from what I read, this sad little dying city is not alone.

cutie

For the second night in a row, K. has skipped his afternoon nap and gone to sleep for the night by 6:30 pm. I have no idea whether this is a fluke or whether his sleep patterns are changing. We were afraid he would wake up super early this morning, but no, he slept for 12 hours with only a few very brief, easily remedied wakings (using our new method, of course).

Last night he fell fast asleep in the car on the way home from the Indian restaurant where we'd eaten dinner. He slept as I carried him out of his car seat, up the stairs, and placed him gently in his bed. He slept as I removed his coat and his booties. Then, the cat was in his room, and running around annoyingly, so I whispered his name: "Hermes!" At this point, K.'s eyes fluttered open and rolled around a bit, and he whispered his version of the cat's name, "sssss, ssssss", then his eyes fluttered shut again and he fell back to sleep. Dreaming of the cat, I'm sure.

How It Went

It went infinitely better than we expected it to go. Of course, this being night one of a very gradual and gentle strategy, I remain prepared for the worst.

7:30: K. down for the night.

10:30: We go to sleep.

12: K. up, I nurse him but put him in his crib awake. K. cries, Derek and I are both in his room pretty much to support each other. We pat him and shush him, he wiggles and cries. We gently hold him still so that he won't be tempted to sit and then stand in his crib. He remains sleepy but agitated. I put the side of the crib down and cuddle him in the crib, singing to him an incredibly boring, repetitive, and insipid song that my mother used to sing to my sister and I as a lullaby.

12:20: K. asleep. He actually settled much more quickly and peacefully than we expected.

12:45: K. awake, crying. Repeat process of stroking and singing insipid song. Within 10 minutes, K. is asleep.

Please note, this is pretty much the first time he's gone to sleep without bouncing and nursing, and it is much, much quicker than we ever thought possible.

4: K. awake, crying. Bring him into our bed, nurse him, shush him, he falls asleep cuddling within 10 minutes.

We had agreed before hand that if he woke up after 3am, we would bring him into our bed. This is our usual practice. Basically, we are trying to have our cake (have him learn to self-soothe) and eat it too (still have some sleepy cuddle time). This may come back to bite us in the ass. But hey, it's an experiment. We are making up our own rules as we go along, baby experts be damned. We may be very, very wrong in our methods. We'll see.

6: K. awake, nurses in bed.

6:30: K. awake for the day.

Result: We all feel well rested today. It was wonderful not to have a two hour bouncing session in the middle of the night. We'll see how it goes tonight! Babies are so unpredictable. We are not getting cocky.

Sleep Training, Night One

So, we've decided to work with K. on self-soothing, starting tonight! I'm nervous about my ability to follow through. First because I have a hard time tolerating crying. Second, because I do, most of the time, love sleeping with K. and could very easily be tipped into the "family bed" side of things, if only we had a king-sized bed. Third, because he's been sleeping fairly well lately (by this I mean one or two wake ups, back to sleep pretty easily). Fourth, because I'm such a deep sleeper that I have a really hard time handling things in the middle of the night. OK, I have to come clean. Derek just told me that he actually had to bounce K. for about 45 minutes in the middle of the night last night - an unacceptable amount of time - and that he tried several times to wake me to get me to help out and I refused to get out of bed. I do not remember this. That's what I mean by a deep sleeper. In the cave-man days my children would never have survived. Wild bears would have picked them off in the night. That's the kind of mother I am!

I digress.

We do think he needs to learn how to put himself back to sleep without our assistance, my love of the family bed aside. So, we are taking a mish-mosh of approaches. Part baby whisperer, part Dr. J*y G*rdon's night-weaning technique. Basically, our hope is to gradually wean him of nursing and/or bouncing in the middle of the night. There will doubtless be a lot of crying, but if this works we won't have to leave him alone in the room, which will be easier on Mama, I think. So tonight, I nurse him in the middle of the night, but put him back down still awake, and we just pat him and cuddle him and talk to him until he falls back to sleep. Even if this takes TWENTY-FIVE HOURS!!! (The method is that every three nights you take a bit more of the parental assitance away until the baby can self-soothe.)

If I/we can't stick to it, the worst thing that happens is that we give up and go back to the way things are.

comments

Wow, it was so amazing when people came over from Bri's blog to comment. And since I've now outed myself as a lurker, I must say, some of my favorite bloggers came over and commented and I felt like these awesome women had just walked into my living room. How cool! And then there were some people I hadn't met before, but who were also interesting and eloquent.
And the places some of those who clicked over came from! (according to site meter) Canada and India and Australia and Norway and Chile. The lure of Bri is powerful!

I will make an effort to comment more on the blogs I read. I know I won't every time, usually because some of my big blog reading time is pumping time or bouncing baby time or some other time when I don't have a free hand. But it seems that the consensus is that (gasp) people actually LIKE comments, even and sometimes especially comments from strangers. Such a novice I am to blog etiquette. I always imagined it would be annoying if I commented on a stranger's blog, like I'd just barged in on them or something.

10 months old

OK, I am so too tired to write tonight and I still have a load of laundry to fold (laundry every day around these parts) but Nablopomo it is.

And it's only right to let this post be a celebration of little K.'s first 10 months on earth. It is, after all, his 10 month birthday, although he doesn't know it.

So what are the fun things about K. at 10 months?

He's obsessed with standing up. He pulls up every chance he gets, on inanimate objects, on me when I'm in the middle of doing something, on his father's legs. If he gets distracted, he'll let go of whatever he's holding on to and stand on his own, but when he realizes he's on his own he'll get worried and grasp at the first thing he finds.

He's not as chubby as he used to be, but his hair is still standing straight on end. He has a wonderful giggle and a big smile with eight teeth. He thinks it's hysterical to be held and danced around by one of us while the other one runs back and forth playing peek-a-boo. It's hard to explain, but trust me, it's the most hysterical game EVER.

His first word is the cat's name: Hermes, pronounces "ssssss". He chases the cat around saying "sssss", and sometimes, if I say "meow" he looks up all bright eyed and says "ssssss".

Other than chasing the cat and climbing the stairs, he loves to roll his ball back and forth across the room. And he loves to flip his books open, can seriously spend up to 30 minutes pulling his books off the shelf and examining each and every one. What a little intellectual.

He's quite gregarious at home with Derek and I, but when we take him out in the world, he's suddenly quite shy. I like to joke that he takes after his parents that way, in being a little shy at first. He continues to be afraid of strange men. We took him to a Halloween party at Derek's office and he burst into tears at the sight of Derek's boss.

It's amazing how he keeps unfolding. It's starting to be possible to imagine him as a little toddler. He's quite a person already.

a typical workday

It's going to be my biggest challenge to post every day when every day includes Tues., Wed., and Thurs., aka the days when I work late after taking care of baby.
Overall, my life is not as busy as back when I lived in NY, worked full-time, took classes at an institute, went to my own therapist, went to yoga classes regularly, was in the midst of planning my wedding, and had a very active social life. However, in terms of doing anything not absolutely necessary (which you could argue about much of the above) my life is busier than ever since baby K. entered the picture, particularly on my work days.
So, for lack of energy to write much of anything else, here is my day - a pretty typical work at home/work outside the home day.
1. Am woken at 6 am by hungry baby. Hungry baby nurses and doses in bed for half an hour.
2. Up, play with baby and change diaper. Give baby to husband to take shower.
3. Eat my own breakfast, clean, dress and diaper extremely wiggly baby.
4. Bundle up baby, stick him in the car, drive to nearby church where I VOTE (good girl).
5. Bounce baby down for nap. Furiously clean up downstairs for 45 minutes, mostly so that my babysitter doesn't have to feel like she works in a vile garbage dump.
6. Take baby to music class. Try to restrain baby from chewing on his teacher's guitar in the middle of a song.
7. Drive home, stuff food down my face, make baby's lunch, nurse baby, greet babysitter.
8. Get ready for work while trying to stop the baby from freaking out about the fact that I'm going to work.
9. Go to work, have five back to back sessions with clients, drive around a bunch since these are home visits.
10. Come home, pump so that I won't get another bout of mastitis. Play "I'm a big boy who likes to climb up the stairs" with baby. Bathe baby. Slather moisturizer all over baby since his skin is getting rough with winter excema. Nurse baby.
11. Hand baby over to husband. Cook dinner. Eat dinner with husband.
12. Come upstairs to do paperwork for my job. Take a break from paperwork to BLOG.

Within the next hour, I will probably be passed out in my bed. But not until after I fold the laundry.

To cry or not to cry....

K.'s sleep has been so horrible for the past almost-week. I know that he is still quite congested due to remnants of his cold, but still, this has Derek and I once again re-thinking our sleep strategies.
We've thought a lot about using a "cry it out" method. We bought Ferber's book awhile back and found him quite reasonable. I also did an informal poll amongst everyone I know with children and it turns out that with the exception of two people, everyone had either done a cry it out method, with great success, or they were co-sleeping and/or still struggling with sleep issues.
Yet the emotional part of me doesn't want to leave K. to cry. My worst fear is that he will vomit.
So here is what I am thinking - and I have not yet discussed this with Derek, so it may change. I think we should leave his bedtime routine as is, because generally it is quite simple to put him to sleep for the night, and we are frequently able to put him in the crib semi-awake. It is the night waking that is out of control. Sometimes it's no big deal, but sometimes it is frequent, and sometimes, like last night, he'll be up for TWO HOURS!!!!
So, I think we let him cry for graduated amounts of time up to maybe 10 minutes depending on how he does (like Ferber) but if he is awake and perfectly happy, we just let him be in his crib in the dark by himself and don't give him any attention for it. If the graduated crying doesn't do any good, we pick him up and put him down as soon as he's comforted (like "the baby whisperer). These are my thoughts about it.
It's amazing what drama it is, this sleep stuff.

Standard Time

You have to love standard time when it means that it is only 10 in the morning and you are returning from a two hour hike with your husband and baby. Then again, that means that the baby's been up since 4:30 am, but hey, it was your husband's turn to get up with him.
The hike was lovely - the leaves are beautiful right now and they smell so good, crisp on the path.

The rest of the day, unfortunately, like most Sundays, was spent on housework. I can really see how it could get out of hand. Cleaning the house when you live with an almost - 10 month old, while so necessary, seems like a joke. He could literally crawl around behind me and undo every single thing I do. And you should see his meal times. There is food flinging three times a day in this house.

It really gets me stressed at times, cleanliness or the lack thereof. Especially with K. crawling around on the floor. And we live in one of those older houses (a rental) where you feel like certain places never get quite clean. (The bathroonm, like Bri's old bathroom of horror, but on a milder scale.) Yet I have to remind myself, it is probably the least important thing.

congested baby hell

My husband is wonderful because he just brought me a latte from the delicious stand at the Farmers' Market. We usually enjoy making these outings as a family together on weekends, but after the hell-night we just went through, we've decided to keep K. in in hopes of ridding him of his cold. It probably won't make a difference to stay in - it's not that he's running a fever or anything - but after last night, we are desperate.
This is just venting. This is not a solicitation for sleep advice. We are generally happy with K.'s sleep patterns at this point. A typical night is one waking, easily put back to sleep, so Derek and I both feel well rested generally. But for the past two nights, the baby has been so congested, bulb syringe be damned. Last night we had almost two straight hours of sobbing and fussing, where Derek and I took turns rocking and bouncing him. He had no interest in nursing. Then, finally asleep in bed with us, intermittent nursing for the rest of the night.
I hope he feels better soon for our sake as well as his. My one fear is that this will set back the progress he has made with sleep - we'll see.

Poor K.!

K. came down with his third cold (in his life) last night. Apparently, the baby congestion remedy involved constant nursing. He doesn't usually sleep in our bed all night but last night it was the only possible semi-reprieve for any of us. Somehow, the sucking seemed to clear him up and help him breathe, but every time he fell asleep he was up within 15 minutes for more.
Thank god you can nurse lying down. I'm actually feeling OK this morning.

All or Nothing

For the last few weeks I've been thinking about discontinuing this blog. I have never been stellar at posting, and since K's birth, it's become pretty abysmal.
This blog was originally started when I moved away from NY as a way to keep in touch with friends on a more daily basis (or, so Bri could keep tabs on me). It was a great way to "talk" to people then and to vent about my confused feelings about being in LA.
I have mixed feelings about blogging, though, since it is a more public forum. Sometimes I like the idea of connecting with more random people, but other times, being overall a private person, I do feel stifled about what I will or won't write about - between random people and worrying that a family member, co-worker, etc, will stumble onto the blog. Unlikely, but possible. And I've thought about "passwork protecting", but feel that then I might as well just send out private emails. So I just don't write at all. I also have a bit of a problem of the idea of a blog being the staple way of keeping in touch with people, since there is something impersonal, I think, about putting things out there when there is not a specific person I am expecting to hear back from - it's not necessarily a dialogue (although I've seen great examples of how it can be.)
BUT -
I'm not willing to give it up yet. It's the only way I'm still writing at all, even occasionally, especially now with K. So, I've decided to try "NaBloPoMo" this month, to see if that can kick start me into making the blog something I feel is productive. Maybe if I force myself to come up with more specific topics, or even if I just get into the habit of writing more prolifically, whether it is personal or not, I will start to feel that it is worthwhile again. Or maybe not, and then I'll stop.
Here's a question, if any readers out there want to respond. Would you advise being a more active commenter on the blogs of others? I'm a faithful lurker to several bloggers who I do not know personally, but I almost never comment, purely out of feeling shy about it. Should I get over this? How do you decide when to break the ice?