Category: life

away

Hey, friends-

So, I may not have mentioned it, but I’m not at home now. We’re down in Texas (Houston area) for a nephew’s wedding. We flew in Thursday. (And boy are our arms tired. Actually, they are, with all that luggage-lugging and toddler-wrangling and baby-hoisting. My feet are still pretty tired, too.)

If it’s any indication of how busy we’ve been, I started to write the above bit on Friday, and then had to adjust my original statement of “flew in yesterday.” I’ve had about 10 minutes time with my laptop up till now. Right now everyone else is asleep.

The wedding was yesterday, so we got to have cake on Pi Day. (No time to bake a pi pie this year.) I’ll hopefully manage to upload some photos. Photos of the kids, that is. I’m afraid I have no photos of the cake.

It’s been fun to see John’s family, but I find myself thinking that time “alone” with John with “only” two small children feels more like “privacy” than I’d been accustomed to.

Tomorrow we fly off to California to meet my newest nephew, who is almost 2 months old, and I’m terribly excited about that. Well, I’m excited about meeting the nephew, and seeing my family. I wish we could skip the flying off part. (Actually, the plane trip itself wasn’t so bad. It was the wrangling of 3 suitcases, 2 carseats, umbrella stroller, 5 carry-on bags, 1 three-year-old and 1 very large infant that was somewhat more challenging.)

The other bit that’s been keeping me busy, by the way, is work. I’ve had it in my head to make some progress on my research, with the goal of submitting an abstract to a conference. I was using just about every minute that was not dedicated to the care of small children to working on work that I pretty much owe. I made some good progress, but with the trip, it wasn’t looking like I could manage. However, the deadline for the conference was miraculously extended a week, so there’s still a chance I can pull it off. Really, I should be using this unexpected window of time (before the onslaught of family obligations kicks in) to get back to work, but here I am instead.

I’m not sure when I’ll have time to post again, or even to read blogs. And now I hear the wimper of a little person beginning to stir, so I’d best post this before another 2 days pass.

Thinking of you fondly,

Alejna

snowed

After a brief teaser from spring, who popped by for a couple of days with her sunny disposition and temperatures warm enough to show a bit of bare ground, prudish winter came back in a rush to cover the ground once more in a thick blanket of snow.¹

The silver lining to those snow-dumping clouds is that I finally got to put Theo in that red snowsuit.

Aside from that, I have lately realized that I’m really behind in my work.

Yes, I know that I’ve known before, but this time the realization has hit me hard. Like a snowball. A packed, icy snowball, that hits me in the face, and knocks me down into a snowbank where I flail awkwardly trying to get myself up, as snow-laden tree branches drop their load on top of me with a whump, getting snow in under my jacket collar.

I’m feeling, as it were, snowed under. Until I manage to dig myself out, I should be spending less time, you know, blogging.

So, once again, I apologize for the general absence of comments, and responses to comments. I’m still reading, but have such limited time with the ability to type.²

And once more, to distract you, I offer you gratuitous baby photos.

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¹ Our driveway this year has been variously covered in blankets of snow and sheets of ice. I think at some point there may also have been a mattress pad of slush, topped by an eiderdown of freezing rain.

² Because my hands are numb from playing in the snow without gloves. Or something like that.

my baby love

I was never much of a baby person. My attitude ranged from mild interest in the offspring of close friends, to irritation with babies encountered elsewhere. I never understood why anyone would want to buy a greeting card with a photo of someone else’s baby, or how a baby in a commercial was supposed to make anyone feel compelled to purchase a product. When I thought of having children, I’d think of babyhood as a period of investment, a time that must be endured in order to achieve the goal of “child.”

As I wrote about a couple of years ago, I have since become a different person. I have learned to appreciate the creature that is “baby.”

Even with this new pro-baby attitude, as I anticipated Theo’s arrival, I still didn’t look forward to the early months. I braced myself for the dreaded newborn stage.

When Phoebe was a newborn, you see, I had a tough time. Her weight gain was too slow, and feeding-related activities took over 12 hours a day. She spent many hours a day crying and needing soothing, and so did I. I was extremely sleep-deprived. It was the most exhausting and overwhelming time of my life, and each day felt like a week.

With Theo, these months have flown by. He is generally mellow, and feeding has been uncomplicated. I’m amazed that I have been able to provide all the nourishment Theo needs to grow and thrive.

The flip side to this is that my days and nights are a bit of a blur of feedings and diaper changes, and that it’s rare that I can get even 4 consecutive hours of sleep at night.

In the past 6 months, I haven’t been away from Theo for even a full hour. I have been alone in the house exactly once, when John took Theo with him to pick up Phoebe from daycare. I spent that half hour or so on the phone, as I was in the middle of a work conference call. And I was making dinner.

While part of me is going crazy from the constant tether and lack of decent sleep, another part of me doesn’t really mind.

I have been really enjoying Theo’s babyness. The chubby legs, the impossibly soft skin, the tiny toes. The fuzzy mostly bald head. The wide toothless smile. I love it when he looks up at me, and touches my face, even when he grabs my lip or my nose with his sharp little baby nails. I love it that I can make him laugh when I kiss his cheeks back and forth. I love it that I can scoop him up and hold him high over my head.

I know that I fell in love with Phoebe, too, as a baby. But I don’t remember so much just enjoying the here and now of the there and then. When Phoebe was tiny, the uncharted territory was so much more stressful. I questioned myself often, agonized over mistakes. I found myself thinking “next time, I will know what to do,” and “next time, things won’t be so hard.” And now, remarkably, I have largely known what to do. Things have been easier. Even though life has been more complicated with our jobs and with having a toddler to parent as well as a baby.

I think I was in a hurry for Phoebe to grow and develop, too. I was eager for all those big next steps. Now they seem to be coming all too quickly. Theo keeps growing, and climbing that developmental ladder. He’s babbling now, and has started sitting up unsupported. He’s discovered toys, and is entranced by sounds and shapes and colors. It’s fun and exciting, but I want to slow down the time. Or at least to bottle it up and save it.

I need to get the time to buckle down and catch up with the work that I’ve committed to doing. I owe many hours to my job, and need to get moving on my degree requirements. There are plenty of other things that I have been letting slide, too. Plus I would like to have more time to myself, or time with John go to a movie or dinner.

Theo is 6 months old now, as of Wednesday. He’ll start daycare, as soon as I can get myself organized enough to get him used to a bottle. He’ll be starting solid foods, which will probably mean longer stretches between nursing. He’ll hopefully sleep longer at night, and nap better during the day.

I find it funny how I can, near-simultaneously, feel like I’m going crazy, and lament that these days of near-constant baby care will soon end.

I find myself sad that this is it for me. This time, there isn’t a “next time.” No more babies. I always imagined myself having two kids, and I am incredibly fortunate to have them. I find it terribly surprising that I can even imagine having another baby, but I know it doesn’t make sense for us. And realizing this makes this baby time feel all the more sweet.

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Photo by John.

warming up (PhotoHunt)

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I took this photo on the afternoon of January 20th, 2009, a day that will probably always bring me a warm fuzzy feeling. After watching Obama’s inauguration with friends and with my little ones, I met up with another friend. The Boston weather was cold, the snowbanks along the road were high, the slush in the road was deep. We went to a snug little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop my friend knew, and had a snack and warm beverage.

This week’s PhotoHunt theme is “warm.” For more photos on the theme, cozy on up to the fire at tnchick’s place.

let them eat cake

Phoebe turns 3 this weekend. I can hardly believe it myself.

We’re going to have a birthday party for her. This will be the first one we’ve had. (We did have some folks over around the time of her first birthday, but it wasn’t so much a birthday party.) Because our lives (and our home) are in a constant state of chaos, we are opting to have the party not at home.

I actually really like planning parties. I really want to get into this, but realize that I just don’t have the time to do all the things I’d like to do. Much like other things in my life. I mean, if I can swing 2 showers in a week, I feel like I’m doing well. I haven’t gotten my hair cut in over a year. I’m behind in work stuff. Home stuff. Other stuff. Did you know that I had a baby a few months ago? Yeah? You knew? Well, some of my relatives may not. Because I have yet to send out birth announcements. And don’t even ask me about the thank you notes I need to write.

Anyhow, I’m trying to figure out what I can pull together before the party, which is on Sunday. Because of my fondness for the cephalopods and other sea beasts, I had this thought to do a sealife-themed thing. (This is also apparently also the ultimate theme for a birthday party for a 3-year-old, as evidenced by KC’s fabulous “Madness Under the Sea.”) I had this idea for a cool jellyfish craft, have visions of sea life party games, and have my heart set on doing some sort of stencilled octopus cake decoration. I love the idea of getting all crazy with decorations and food. But with the way my life goes, I’ll probably manage to dump out a bag of goldfish crackers and call it a theme. (We’re ordering pizza…if I get it with anchovies, will that make it sea-life themed? Should I see if I can get clam flavored soda? And what about dried squid snacks? Aren’t they always a hit with the toddler set?)

Meanwhile, I need to find more time to get some work done. Because they’re not paying me to daydream about cupcakes.

red britches

red_pants-250px1This was a post that I meant to write and post on Sunday. See how the post title from Saturday was “red bridges”?¹

The pants in the photo are from a snow suit I got for Theo at a second hand store for a few dollars. I quite like the festive suit, with its bright red fabric and traditional Chinese design, but we haven’t managed to get any use out of it yet.

Sunday was a special Chinese New Year’s event at the Boston Children’s museum, and John and I had talked about going. So I thought “hey, Theo can wear the snowsuit!” Of course, plans change. For a start, John was too busy with work to go. And then it was surprisingly warm, with temperatures in the low 50s after a long cold spell, so the snowsuit was out.

The museum website had a few items listed for the Chinese New Year day, including some plays and some concerts. There was even mention of a Lion Dance. Phoebe has a book about the Lion Dance, which was a favorite for a while. She loves music. She was going to love the day.

Getting ready to go was rough, though. Somehow amongst feeding Theo, getting breakfast for Phoebe and me, finding clothing for the 3 of us, diaper changes, trips to the potty, brushing hair, and packing up all the snacks, lunch, and whatnots we’d be needing for the day, the morning just evaporated. It was a bit past noon by the time we were ready to get in the car.

The last concert scheduled was for 1:30, and I wasn’t sure we could make it. But somehow we did. Phoebe and I ate our lunch in the car. We met up with my friend Erica (who happily was able to join us), parked at the garage, walked the couple of blocks over, checked in, and made it into the theater before the concert began.

I felt mildly victorious.

Of course, I didn’t get to see the whole thing, even though it was only a half hour long. We probably saw 15 or 20 minutes of it before Phoebe suddenly needed to use the potty. By the time we made it back, the concert was done. Then we missed the Lion Dance. There was a flyer given out with the schedule and so forth, but we hadn’t been given one, and didn’t find one till later. At which point we saw other goings on that we missed, too.

In all, we had a fine time, but it was rather a bust in terms of Chinese New Year activities.

When I got home, I thought I could write a little post about the day, and my various failed plans. But that plan failed, too. I don’t even remember what happened to the evening. It might have been one of the recent nights when I’ve fallen asleep in my clothes while putting Theo to bed.

Then I was going to post Monday, but the day evaporated again, and it was time to put together the Just Posts post, a new commitment I’ve taken on.

This is a common pattern in my life right now. I have grand plans for things I want to do, but time barrels forward in a blur of feedings and eating and diaper changes and trips to the potty. In trying to get little people to sleep, and big people to wake up. Work meetings. Doctor’s appointments. Home repairs. And somehow I’m always behind. Out of clean clothes, missing bill due dates and car inspections. Still needing to put away the Christmas tree ornaments. I often feel like I have little control, that I’m just bounced around from one obligation to the next. I get frustrated at the lack of time I have to myself, to do with as I wish.

But then again, I realize how good I have it. I may feel like I have no control over my time and my life, but I am here in this life by choice, and by good fortune. My days are full because my life is full.

But I’m a bit sorry I haven’t managed to get Theo into the damn snowsuit.

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¹ Playing with post titles is one of the ways that I amuse myself. (cf. look who’s stalking and look whose stocking, putting my money where my mouth is vs. putting my money where my mouse is, pigeon post vs pidgin post, and grrrr vs. brrrr)

sharing the moment

inauguration

Yesterday, I kept Phoebe out of daycare so that she could watch the inauguration with me. A friend of mine in Boston was hosting a viewing at her apartment, and I thought it would be great to watch with friends. John, unfortunately, had an important work meeting, but I decided that Phoebe, Theo and I would head into Boston.

We almost didn’t end up going. Even though I got up before 8:00, things moved really slowly. A few minutes before 10:00 found me re-dressing Theo after a major diaper blowout and impromptu sponge bath, and Phoebe running around the house naked. It takes an hour to drive into Boston, and then I’d have parking to deal with, and then baby and toddler-wrangling to get up 3 flights of stairs to my friend’s apartment. I didn’t see how we could possibly make it before the ceremony, and I just didn’t want to miss it. I called my friend to tell her we weren’t going to make it.

But then, somehow, we kicked into high gear, and Phoebe (who was very unhappy at the idea of staying home) got dressed in a hurry, and we got on the road by 10:15. Traffic was light, and there was parking only about a block from my friend’s apartment. I called and one of my friends came down to the street to help us in. (There were giant 4-foot snowbanks between the street and the sidewalk, and I had to make separate trips climbing over/through with Phoebe and Theo, so it was good to have someone else there.) I think we got to my friend’s apartment around 11:30, where there was a spread of yummy food, some friends, and a bottle of champagne.

It was fun to watch the ceremony with friends, and we cheered and jeered and toasted and joked and were so incredibly happy to see this day.

I held Theo on my lap, and pulled Phoebe close to me during Obama’s speech. I’m so glad that I had them there with me, so that some day I can tell them where they were for this amazing moment of history.

cough, cough

No, I’m not just trying to get your attention. Well, maybe I am.

Our household has been beset by a plague of mucus. I’ve been feeling pretty worn out. It’s no fun tending to a sick baby when sick oneself. I can’t tell you the number of times when I’ve finally gotten Theo to settle down and then had to cough or sneeze, causing him to wake up and/or get riled up. Phoebe and John are both sick, too. We are a fun bunch.

The laundry situation recently became so dire that yesterday I found myself wearing an “outfit” that defies description. Let me describe it to you, and defy its description-defyingness.

Finding that all pants fitting my current size were sufficiently soiled with various baby-related fluids that even I wouldn’t wear them, I was pleased to discover that my maternity yoga pants actually fit moderately well, if rather differently than they did a few months ago. They are velour, in a very pretty dark plum color. (Yes, I’m saying I put on some fuzzy purple pants.) I next surveyed my shirt options. Because it’s freakin’ cold here, I like to wear a long-sleeved t-shirt layered under a sweater. The only such long-sleeved shirt remaining in my closet was my Halloween shirt. Orange. “Fuck it,” I said. (And I believe that’s an exact quote.) I grabbed the damn orange shirt, layered a blue hoodie on top, and next went on a quest for socks.

I have a gazillion socks in a pile. Almost none of which seem to match. The only pair I could muster were a sort of raspberry color, no doubt remaining only because I don’t generally willingly wear them. (I can’t remember what words I used when I made this discovery.)

I did find myself thinking, though, and for the second time in less than a week, “someday soon, I will embarrass my children.” (Now that I think about it, the other time was a sock-related incident, too. A public sock-related incident.)

It’s a glamorous life I lead.