Bringing Up Baby

Dear reader, an update

2008-12-20T12:52:00.000-08:00

I'm over here now.

Ready?

2007-07-06T21:34:00.001-07:00

As my summer class comes to an end, I'm finding that I have more time on my hands than I've had in a long while. Of course I've had to redefine what counts as "fun" on those days when it's just Aidan and me. How cool that I've found a few things we both enjoy: parks, books, and cafes. I might take the baby out of Seattle, but I'll never take Seattle out of the baby!

Here are some of our favorite things:

1. Board book bliss. Aidan used to eat books, now he devours them with his imagination. On his top ten currently: Goodnight Gorilla, The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Grow Up!, Me and My Bear.

2. People watching outside of my favorite neighborhood cafe, a place that looks pretentiously hip in that Seattle way (I swear everybody who works there dons dark-framed glasses), but that is actually quite baby-friendly. I just don't get those "we're too serious for kids" looks from the baristas or the patrons. Of course, we generally sit outside because there's nothing Aidan loves more (other than board books) than watching the bustle of cars and busybodies at that cafe. He's a true-blue Seattle-ite and I'm a lucky mom: I get at least 30 minutes of adult-reading time on these days.

3. Parks, more parks, and then more parks after that. We live within walking distance of about four parks, so it's all good. It helps that my superstar mother-in-law recently forked over serious cash for a new top-of-the-line stroller that we call our "Bentley." Alloy wheels, topnotch suspension, easy maneuverability, and a fold-and-stow system so easy I can do it: we're talking shameless baby-bling.

Nursing our Depression

2007-06-09T21:26:00.001-07:00

I was thinking the other day about how, as a mom, I don't often sweat "the little things" in life. Parking tickets, traffic, rude waitresses: they used to bother me, but now they're just blips in the soundtrack of my busy new life. While part of me thinks I'm simply too tired to care, another part insists it's a chemical change, something more deeply embedded in my new maternal makeup.

Well, according to a recent study published in the International Breastfeeding Journal, I might actually be onto something. The longitudinal study reveals that breastfeeding "protects mothers from stress" and shields "maternal mood." It indicates that woman who breastfeed are more likely to experience "fewer negative life events." [Important side note: said study also suggests that babies who nurse are also less likely to experience the impacts of maternal depression.]

As a proud nursing mom -- proud because we had serious breastfeeding problems, Bump and I, in the beginning that almost led to me giving up early on -- I naturally find this study encouraging. And if I do decide to have another baby, it will undoubtedly be on my mind as I try once again to establish a nursing relationship with my baby.

What bothers me about this study, though, is how its publicity will affect moms who simply can't afford to breastfeed. I'm not speaking figuratively: most new moms must return to work soon after their babies are born. And of those, only a small percentage are lucky enough to work in a lactation-friendly environment where women can express milk at ease and in privacy every few hours to keep up their supply. The research is all there: the U.S. lags behind most other industrialized nations in the value it places on lactation during the first few postpartum months.

I'm wondering, as I write this, if the study controls for class and socio-economic variation. Working, low-income, and/or single mothers are all, by necessity, far less likely to breastfeed: are they experiencing more "negative life events" because they're not expressing milk or because their lives are simply more stressful, baby or no baby?

But here's my main point: while this new study certainly emboldens those of us who can afford to nurse, it subtly damns those who by necessity can't. The last thing a working mother of two wants to hear is that her "decision" not to nurse may negatively impact both her life and the life of her baby. If she weren't depressed already, she might certainly be after reading this study or one of its many incarnations in the pro-breastfeeding campaign that pervades the culture of parenting today. I can hear one of the taglines already: "Bottle is Good, but Breast is Best for Stress."

First Word!

2007-06-09T07:12:00.001-07:00

See this post on my other blog for details!

blah

2007-06-07T22:05:00.000-07:00

You can always tell when I have to write an essay: I blog more. Which is to say, I procrastinate by "blogging" instead of writing. Funny how that works.

I met with a woman today on campus who is leading the life I'm soon to enjoy: an Assistant Professor with a baby at home. It was cool of her to meet with me -- I can't imagine how busy she is -- because I'm seriously stressed out about my new job (and it doesn't start until September!). I had this idea that she could share her secret with me: you know, how she manages to be both a mom and a professor. Of course, said secret doesn't actually exist. In fact, she prefaced lunch by suggesting she tell me what NOT to do. And as it happens the things I shouldn't do are the things I do all the time.

Take right now, for instance. Aidan went down at 8PM. It's already 10PM and I haven't even so much as picked up the essay I'm working on.

I'll let you in on something: one of the many perks of early motherhood is that you always have an excuse for getting nothing done. I have every right to be home all day with the bed unmade, dishes piling up, hair a complete disaster and nobody would bat an eye. No folks: she's not mentally unstable; she's a mother! My excuse for getting absolutely nothing done? A twenty-pound rug-rat I call Bump.

As for tonight: I'm simply too tired to exercise my intellect! Aidan's cutting teeth, in the middle of a developmental hurdle, and getting more mobile by the nanosecond. This means that during the day I'm on my toes each second he's awake. (And thanks to mother nature, Aidan's just about to ditch that morning nap).

So, I could log-off and pick up that essay -- the one throwing me a guilt trip from the corner of my desk -- but why should I? We mums need a break every now and then!

Listening Mothers

2007-06-06T09:31:00.000-07:00

Hey Vern: I just fixed the comments problem, so hopefully we're back on track. To follow up on our recent exchange about childless friends and the chasm separating "us" from "them," I have to say one thing that has helped is taking the initiative to seek out fellow new mums. So, in a move completely uncharactersitic of me, I joined a mothers' support group called Listening Mothers. We meet once a week. There's usually some formal topic -- secure attachment issues; falling in/out of love with your baby; asking for help etc. -- but each week finds us expressing our joys and frustrations with each other. I never thought I'd be into this sort of thing, but here I am blogging about it!

Here's to finding a supportive support group in Bellingham!

Same experience!

2007-05-30T12:23:00.000-07:00

I hear you!

For some reason I can't comment to your post, so am adding a new one. I remember when Lisa Spagnolo was pregnant 5 years ago I thought I was being being understanding and supportive, but I remember her saying to me what you just did below. She kept encouraging me to have a baby so she could have a friend who understood (thank God I did not have a baby with Steve!) After I had Ethan the Spags came to Seattle for a visit I suddenly felt exactly what she was getting at and I was so stunned by the realization that I apologized to them! I told them I should have brought them food and been babysitting or whatever I could do to help out. I get it now. I didn't then but I thought I did.

One of my child-free friends told me that she raised a puppy and so she knows what I'm going throught with Ethan. Huh. I didn't correct her. I raised a puppy too and two weeks of puppy potty training was nothing, absolutely nothing like having a baby. My closest girlfriends are both childless and out of state. One gets it (the one who flew here to take care of us the second she found out I had a C section) and the other has no idea. She never ever mentions Ethan when we talk on the phone. And my closest friends here are mostly gay men, who really don't understand baby land at all! Nor do they want to.

Your friends love you, they just don't know what this is all about and probably won't get it unless/until they go through this experience for themselves. It is a trial by fire, and I find more connection these days with strangers in the baby section at Target who are going through it too, than with some of my girlfriends. Anyway, chica, until your other friends catch on I'll be one of your friends who understands, and I love little bump!

Vern

birds of a feather

2007-05-24T15:43:00.000-07:00

They say the best way to get help is to ask for it. What about when you ask for it, over and over again, and you get nothing? Zip. Not even an honest, "I would help, but I don't really don't feel like it." My little Bump is just about to turn ten months old -- that's eight weeks shy of his first birthday -- and all but two of my closest girlfriends have spent, all total, maybe eight hours with him. And the bulk of these eight hours are largely coincident with some "adult" social function that could easily have been Bump-less had I not brought him along. Of the other two friends, only one has continued to stay very much in my life as a friend and as a babysitter. In other words, I'm struggling with the fact that my closest friendships are cooling at a time in my life where now, more than ever, I could use a good friend.

I know my friends don't suck. They just don't get it. And why should they? They're cat owners, not mothers, and lest anybody suggest an affinity between the two I must say that as a cat-owning mother myself, the two forms of "parenting" couldn't be more different. (I can imagine putting Aidan outside for being too noisy about as easily as I can imagine one of my cats needing a diaper change at three in the morning.) Imagine how funny I find it when one of my childless friends refers to their cat "issues" as practice for childrearing. Yeah, right.

I knew what I signed up for when I decided to have this baby: my life would change in ways I knew I couldn't yet imagine. I knew my days of going to clubs, sleeping-in, and the occasional hit from the proverbial hookah would suffer a swift death. Not that I was clubbing, getting lots of sleep, and hittin' the old peace pipe all that much back then, but that's another story. It was both annoying yet difficult to avoid the endless streams of pre-birth cautionary tales from these same friends: once that baby's born, you will be an entirely different person. And, to be sure, the minute Bump was born, I was reborn. I changed from being a me-centered individual to a selfless, bloated, sleep-deprived vessel whose sole raison d'etre, at least for the first three months, was that little baby called my Bump. What the pregnancy books don't warn you about, and they damn well should, is what happens to your friendships, at least with those who don't have kids, once your baby is born.

In an ideal world, my closest girlfriends are interested in my baby. They call me frequently not only to check in on me -- you know, to see how I'm coping with this monumental life change and all -- but to see if they can visit Aidan. In an ideal world, when my friends offer to babysit, which they're very good at doing, they back it up by actually babysitting every now and then. In this world, that is, I'm able to share the crazy joys and frustrations of being a new mom with my closest female friends. The reality is that I often consciously keep my mouth shut when it comes to my baby around these friends for fear of boring them with stories about a boy they barely know.

I have a dream: Aidan, now eighteen, is chilling out with one of these friends of which I speak, getting the skinny on what his mom was like "back the in the day" and what he was like, from their perspective, during his first year of life. The reality, however, is that none of my friends really know who Aidan is. They have no idea what he's like, what makes him laugh, what scares him, how often he smiles, what makes him tick, and how truly perfect he is right now. In a few months I'll be moving from my friends, coming back to visit maybe every several months. Sad but true: my friends have (wilfully?) missed the boat.

I have another dream. Fast forward four years: one of these friends is finally with child. They ask me if I'll babysit. My response? "Sure, how about this: when the time comes, I'll babysit as much for you and you did for me."

Me? Bitter? Never!

Mush part 2

2007-05-21T21:56:00.000-07:00

Haven't posted here in a while, because my other blog has been monopolizing my virtual life. A novel thought: cross-posting. Here's a post on that blog that speaks to your question below, Vern!

Mush!

2007-05-18T07:46:00.000-07:00

On to solid foods! Any advice? Recipes? Ethan has had rice cereal, mushed pears, baby guacamole (avacodo mushed with breast milk) which he wasn't a big fan of, and banana. So far we are tasting not really eating. This is going to be fun! I suppose we'll be needing a high chair?

Doing it all Wrong and Loving it!

2007-05-10T06:29:00.000-07:00

Hi chicas!

So, January was bliss -- Ethan would sleep one eight hour stretch and then do a 3 or 4 hour one right after that. I was human, optimistic, feeling like this motherhood thing was going to be very smooth sailing.

Then Ethan changed it up to waking up every two hours then every hour starting at 9:00! I was a zombie, pessimistic, feeling unable to handle motherhood. We got the books, did the sleep routine, took all advice, and got Ethan back to waking every two hours, for which I now found myself grateful.

One thing we did was I was not nursing him to sleep anymore and only feeding him once or twice a night.

For the past week Ethan has been sleeping 5 hours (officially through the night! but who are those officials who think this is through the night?) then three hour stretches after that. And I am human again. What are we doing differently? I am nursing him to sleep whenever he wakes up and he is sleeping on his tummy. He can roll over (and roll and roll) so I'm not worried about tummy sleep, and starting a week ago I nursed him every time he woke out of desperation for something fresh to try and it seems this must be what is making him sleep longer. Months of not nursing him to sleep bought me waking every two hours or hourly. Nursing him to sleep means sleep! And sleep means I'm a better mother and Ethan doesn't have dark circles under his eyes anymore. For us doing the wrong thing is the right thing.

Moving this month, lots of boxes now and changes in routine soon. We'll see what happens with sleep. Fortunately, Kevin's parents are coming from South Africa for a couple of months so we'll have help!

first cold

2007-03-27T11:55:00.000-07:00

hey chicas,

sorry have been absent for a while. we found out we had to move so ethan and i have been looking at houses for a while. lots of getting him in and out of the car. we decided to buy, so it is a huge process, but we found something! moving to woodinville. the search was just too much for ethan who got a cold. oh that sad little sick cry -- like a weak little wail. heartbreaking.

love the pics lysa! here's a recent one of ethan:

coffee stains and laptops

2007-03-26T12:04:00.000-07:00

Seattle has more to boast of than espresso genius: check out Michelle Goodman's Anti 9-to-5 Guide, a blog devoted to "women who think outside the cube." Cubicle, that is. She used to work for "corporate America," but decided at one point that she resented having to don pantyhose over PJ's so early in the day. So she switched careers: she took a pay-cut but a raise in the quality of her life.

Not a mother herself (and with no intentions of ever becoming one), she also has some great stuff for moms who work and who can have it all.

Off to work in my PJ's....

california dreamin'

2007-03-23T12:42:00.000-07:00

Aidan and Oma, March 2007

The thrill of having a baby doesn't end with the immediate family unit. It extends to the rest of the family: grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, the family cats. This sentiment resonated throughout our second visit with the Bump to Southern California last week. One of the many wonderful things about loving grandparents is their boundless energy. Seriously, Aidan's Oma and Opa (that's Dutch for grandmother/father), had more energy than I've had in months. The two of them took, no joke, over five hundred pictures and sent us home with two CDs and one video of the stills...which are g-g-g-gorgeous.

This visit was particularly special because the day before we left I got a job offer from a school I had all but written off (and which was my first choice prior to embarking on this hectic journey)! It was so nice being able to celebrate the good news with family.

Some snapshots of our Spring Break with The Fam (tie-dyes courtesy of our good friend Megan):

all mothers are working mothers

2007-03-14T13:53:00.000-07:00

Play Date

Never again will I wonder why moms talk to their babies so much in public. A mom now myself, I understand all too well that craving for adult conversation, for human connection, for just plain spinning a yarn every now and then with somebody who can actually talk back. Granted, I am no longer a Stay-At-Home-Mom (SAHM in postpartum parlance), but I do remember very vividly those all-day stretches where it was just me, NPR, and The Bump. I couldn't wait for Dear Hubbie to come home, not so much because I needed a break from childcare (which I did), but because I just wanted to talk, to gab, to get confirmation that I was still a functioning adult who had important things on her mind. Who had, I swear, a mind!

This brings me to my point (I do have one): I used to think SAHM's were the lucky ones, the ones who could afford the privilege of spending every waking hour (and we new moms have plenty of those) with their little bundles of joy. But now I'm not so sure it's that simple. To be sure, the SAHM is fortunate enough to enjoy the privilege of not having to work. But the same could be said for anybody, mom or not, who is in that socio-economic position.

I'd like to complicate the stereotype, if you will. SAHM's are not what they appear folks: they are working, all the time, and much harder than any corporate job out there, I'm convinced. Sure they don't have to put up with the tedium of office politics, the drudgery of administrative duties, or the pressure of deadlines. But they do have to deal with energy-depletion, sleep-deprivation, staying hyper alert and motivated all day long, and the art (and it IS an art) of maintaining just a semblance of sanity on those rare moments that find them among the living, among the adults, in the so-called "real world" that often looks upon a mother and her newborn as an inconvenience, an invisible dyad that shouldn't be in the "adults only" cafes and restaurants in the first place. (I'm not bitter, just making a point about how exclusionary some places can be when they see I've got a rambunctious baby in tow).

In other words, hats WAY off to all SAHM's out there. Never again will I say to a new mom: "Oh, you get to be a SAHM!" I'll be a bit savvier than that: with a smile, a knowing nod, perhaps even a light pat to the arm, I'll say: So, you're staying at home. How's it going? How are you?"

on growth spurts and separation anxiety

2007-02-27T20:49:00.000-08:00

(this post is dedicated to all my girlfriends -- you know who you are -- who don't yet have kids, who are fighting the good fight.)

so i've read that babies hit growth spurts on the 3's and 6's: three weeks, six weeks, three months, six months...

aidan is nearing the end of six months and i'm semi-delirious for lack of sleep. i'm lucky if i get four straight hours any given night. he does sleep for five hour stretches, but they start around 8PM. and although i'm exhausted, work and human connection (i.e. chatting with my husband) preclude me from turning in anytime before 11PM. that means, i'm up two hours later (1AM) for the next feeding. after that, it's two hour intervals at the most. i believe i've aged fifteen years this month. scratch that: this week.

and then there's the issue of separation anxiety. he doesn't want to be apart at all. not at all. sometimes, if i'm just standing behind him he'll lose it. he needs me in eyeshot pretty much the whole time he's awake. he'll have momentary bouts of independence, but they're stubbornly short-lived moments of joy.

i long for an eight-hour stretch of sleep and for the day aidan says "mom, i need some space."

our little lion

2007-02-15T21:24:00.000-08:00

Went to the doctor yesterday for the six month check-up and all is well. Nothing to report other than the nurse referring to Aidan as the bravest baby of the day. He got five shots (no more for several months, thank GAWD) and only winced once. I didn't experience this first-hand because, wimp that I am, I can't stand to watch. So I turn the task over to Simon. My mom thinks I should do it eventually -- and she's right -- but until I have to, I won't. According to the nurses, this is a common weakness among new mothers.

I already feel like he's growing up so fast: he's "talking" (it's babel and it's freakin' cute), turning over, propping himself up, grabing for anything we're holding, and he's developed this very coy smile when others stare at him. It's as if to say "aw, shucks, you really think I'm the cutest baby you've ever seen?"

Hard to believe that he's already been around for half a year.

stay at home mom?

2007-02-12T16:15:00.000-08:00

hey chicas,

so i turned in my a.i. application today and for some reason being on campus felt strange and so far removed, which was a very wierd feeling. being at home with ethan, i have no intellectual stimulation at all and dream of teaching again. but being on campus made me want to become a stay at home mom, which i didn't expect. nor do i think we can afford it. maybe it just felt wierd to be on campus with ethan, but this was the first time i felt like i didn't belong there. and i've been a part of the english department since 1996! huh.

regressing

2007-02-05T11:02:00.000-08:00

ethan is backsliding with sleep and is getting drooly. teeth at 12 weeks too early? typing left handed so short post. found interesting book on cognitive development called the wonder weeks. dumbed down but still useful for it's identification of cognitive growth spurts which do not always coincide with physical ones. ethan very clearly in one now.

Baby Einstein is Stupid, Part 2

2007-01-27T11:10:00.000-08:00

So a day after my Baby Einstein rant, I hear this commentary on NPR's Marketplace. You can download the podcast if you want.

Aidan's been Baby Einstein free for several days now. (Not that he ever 'used' that often before The Renunciation of Baby Einstein). It's so true, what they say: play is the ideal form of learning right now. Its interactive element -- not to mention the bonding it allows for -- demands the use of more muscles than meet the eyes, which are the only muscles used when Aidan stares at the TV. I've been reformed. I generally stray away from absolutes, especially when it comes to the nuanced and complicated world of parenthood, but if there's one Truth to be told it has to be the utter value of play.

Baby Einstein isn't Smart

2007-01-24T15:37:00.000-08:00

I'm sure I wasn't the only new mother whose ears perked up when, during his State of the Union Address yesterday, President Bush introduced the world to the founder of Baby Einstein, a multimedia video and toy production company that specializes in learning activities for children aged six months to three years old. At first glance, the Baby Einstein video for infants seems like a little slice of heaven. It's entertaining and educational. And we all know what that means: baby is preoccupied (in an educational sorta way) so mommy can snag some time for herself. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, right?

Wrong.

Several studies conducted a few years ago (at mum's alma mater, no less) "linked each hour of daily TV before age three to lower performance on reading comprehension and short-term memory tests at ages six and seven." The authors themselves: "This analysis has shown a consistent pattern of negative associations between television viewing before age three years and adverse cognitive outcomes at ages six and seven years." Since these studies and, from what I can gather others like them, the AAP (American Association of Pediatrics) issued a recommendation: no TV for children under two. Nada. Period.

Turns out Baby Einstein isn't all that smart. (Dare I say that, by extension, neither was George Bush when he quite publicly endorsed it?)

The news of this "must (not) see TV" recommenation has this mom on edge. A good friend of ours, who has three happy, healthy boys of her own, bought us a BE video months ago. Although we hadn't yet heard of these new studies, our instincts told us to refrain from plopping it into the DVD for months. Until one day, when Aidan was exceptionally fussy and I needed a serious break (to shower, grade essays, even eat...something essential). I succumbed to temptation that is Baby Eistein. Since that fateful November day the Fam and I have turned, yet only on occasion, to the magic of Baby Einstein. We never keep it on for very long. Nor are we habitual (i.e. daily) users. Chalk it up to my own liberal-progressive hatred of the mediocrity-box, but I'm just naturally turned off by the sight of my infant son staring at a television screen.

Even so, let me say right up front that I completely understand why it is a multi-million dollar enterprise. The thirty-minute video transforms our son into a quiet, content, smiling beam of baby sunshine. The mood in the room turns instantly from chaos to tranquility. What exhausted working mother wouldn't give into that once in a while?

Yet, let's face it. something this good must be bad. And, according to the American Association of Pediatrics, Baby Einstein is bad. Very, very bad. (A little voice inside me has to wonder how the vibrant colors and classical music on the screen are all that different from the effects of a mobile, which is also colorful, in motion, and sonically-endowed.) Although the study itself concludes that there need to be, well, more studies, and although I happen to disagree with other AAP "recommendations," I feel strongly that when it comes to this partiuclar issue (i.e. the development of my son's reading capacity and attention span) I have been reborn.

Alas, the authority behind the AAP has won. Dear Hubby and I have taken a vow to forego the goodness of Baby Einstein -- and infant television in general -- for as long and as consistently as we can. We're realists, though. We both work and we're new to this whole deal, so we're allowing ourselves the option of quick indulgences -- i.e. twenty minutes here and there -- if doing so makes a day a bit easier. (We are strongly of the school of thought that parental sanity is essential for infant well-being). Even so, we agree that a new "anti-television" discourse is in order in this household. If those studies are valid -- and if every hour of TV means a future fraught with ADD, poor reading comprehension, and an overly moody toddler -- I say bring on the challenge of finding alternatives to the celluloid pacifier. Challenges and riding out the storms: that's what motherhood is all about, right?

sleep, crying it out, and real results

2007-01-13T20:42:00.000-08:00

So by the fifth month it's safe to say that the big "issue" of the day is sleep. Gone are the days of predictable sleep patterns that find Aidan eating and sleeping every two to three hours like clockwork. He's actually developing a pattern: two naps during the day and a veritable "bedtime" at night. I heard at a parents' support group that "sleeping through the night" means sleeping for five hour stretches (and not, as I had hoped, sleeping until I'm ready to wake up). Aidan is sleeping through the night alright. The only thing is, his night starts at 8:30pm. And while I'm always tired and easily prone to napping, I just can't get my own self down that early. I think what happens is that I'm so thrilled by the idea of some free time that I stay awake anyway, my utter fatigue notwithstanding. I'm usually down by 11:00, only to find myself awake and having to nurse in bed right around 1:30, 2:00 if we're lucky.

I'm not complaining -- just documenting this little milestone called "bedtime." I never thought we'd get to this point, being able to count on a scheduled time for 'night-night.' How we got here, though, might raise eyebrows. We succumbed, after weeks of struggling with ways to get Aidan into a routine, to the dreaded "CIO" method. That, of course, stands for 'crying it out,' and it's exactly that. We never let Aidan cry for longer than five minutes (although, according to my mom, Simon's mom, and just about every mom old enough to be a grandmother, this is nothing). Here's what we did -- and what has worked -- to get here. After nursing and burping, I put Aidan down, rub his stomach and head, and sing or whisper sweet nothings to him for a few minutes. I turn on his "sounds of nature" clock, dim the lights, and walk out quietly. Five minutes later he cries. I come in immediately, making sure not to pick him up or rock him, reassure him I still exist, rub his head and coo until he stops crying and leave again. Another five minutes go by: baby cries. This time, however, I wait a couple minutes before going back in. Dear hubbie and I continue this cycle, allowing for longer durations each time (but never exceeding five minutes) until he finally sleeps.

The first week or so we had to do this song and dance for at least an hour at a time before he'd fall asleep. Now, we're down to five minutes and sometimes, like today, he actually sleeps almost immediately after being put down because (I think) he finally associates his co-sleeper with, um, sleep.

"The books" are all over the map when it comes to getting your baby down. Some rail against this CIO method vehemently, warning you that your bundle of love will have serious self-esteem issues later in life. Others suggest quite the opposite: that letting your baby cry it out will help them learn to be self-sufficient and independent. Still others suggest a method that actually involves waking up your baby in the middle of the night (I never finished reading past the first paragraph of that suggestion). Who knows which method is "right?" It seems like no matter which method I use, there's a book or theory out there certain to convince me I'm a failure. What ultimately "worked" wasn't a single theory I espoused, but a cocktail of various ideas and suggestions. What worked was being able to trust a hunch I had about my son's temperament; my ability to recognize his "I'm dead tired" cues; and my intuition that although he cries he's not at all traumatized or in pain. Mind you, I waited five months to do try this CIO approach to sleeping. Five months! That means that for the first four months of his life I never let him cry longer than five minutes before going to sleep. By month five, it seemed like my self-esteem was more at stake than his...so I gave it a shot and he's now able to sleep sans issues.

I'm convinced, after five months of trial and error on all fronts, that those well-intentioned parenting books can actually impede intuitive parenting. (There's probably a book on "intuitive parenting," but whatever.) This isn't to say these books aren't helpful. For some things they're almost indispensable (figuring out what constitutes a temperature; knowing how to recognize constipation, etc.) But in so many situations -- certainly when it comes to the sleep issue -- they're not to be trusted as instruction manuals are. As you put it, S, they're not raising our kids, we are!

a (not so white) christmas in vermont

2006-12-25T18:43:00.000-08:00

I can't write for long, but i'm longing to blog (very sad, I know). We've been hanging out in a small Vermont "town" called Hardwick, about a half-hour east of Montpelier, the state capitol. This is my second Christmas in Hardwick and I'm sad to report that this has not been a very white Christmas! There's talk of snow later tonight, but I have my doubts.

I'm curious to know how your boys' first Christmas went. Aidan's being showered with love and smiles, and I also think he's sometimes a bit overwhelmed by it all. Is it just me or is it a bit scary when you see eight people hovering over your baby's portable crib, ogling and cooing in unison while he stares curiously from below? Of course, I can't complain about all the new clothes he's receiving -- and I love that he's surrounded by so much family.

Great news about the teaching offer, LizzieP. I enjoyed teaching for the IWP (and I think interdisciplinary writing experience looks good on the CV). I can't help you with the childcare question. when i went back to teaching, my schedule was only two days per week for three hours max. simon is able to stay home (and not work) to help, and my younger brother is also living with us right now and that truly helps. we haven't yet needed childcare. one recommendation (which you probably already thought about): we purchased a parking permit so i could drive to and fro campus and park next to my office. that way, i didn't spend extra time either on the bus or walking to and fro the montlake parking lot, which makes a difference when you want to get home to catch the next feeding! good thing you invested in a good pump -- mine was so handy on those days I wanted to stay on campus an extra hour or two. I returned the hospital-grade rental (medela classic) and found a barely-used medium-grade electric one (medela pump in style) on craigslist. It's all enclosed in a leather bag and comes with an insulated storage pouch for bottles and dry-ice backs. fond memory: pumping and prepping for class at 7:00AM. I hate to get all Martha Stewart on you, but I truly love this pump and can't stop promoting it to new mums. It works better than the expensive rental, and it's so light I don't even realize I'm carrying it sometimes.

Since it seems like the three of us are likely to be on campus next quarter, we should meet up and brainstorm creative ideas for childcare. I'd be more than happy to help out in any way I can. Sacha: you mentioned something about 'office sharing,' and I'm still very curious about what you meant by that.

As nice as it is to be with family and friends, I find myself longing for our home in Seattle. I wonder if Aidan, like me, misses the comfortable familiarity of home right now.

SO looking forward to life after the holidays, traveling, and, of course, the much-dreaded MLA.

back in civilization and child care question

2006-12-22T11:22:00.000-08:00

Hi all,

Haven't had internet access for a week and just got power back a couple of days ago -- didn't have that for five days. Was a little tougher to take care of Ethan! He is seriously mixed up about day and night now. We had a generator for much of the time which ran our heat and one outlet in the kitche so we weren't as bad off as some in our neighborhood. Got pretty good at diaper changing by candle light and headlamps.

Lysa, projectile poo? projectile? dear god.

So I've been offered a last minute gig teaching 197 and need to figure out child care options before I can take the job. Because it is IWP and because it is linked to Mark Patterson's class, I'll have to attend the linked lecture. That means at least 5 hours of child care per day, three days a week, not including office hours somewhere in there. What do you think I can expect to pay for this? Any ideas where to go? Ethan will only be 7 weeks old on Jan 1! but Uniform is a much better health insurance than the one we havve through Kevin's work, believe it or not. Definately better for alternative medicine such as our naturopathic pediatrician who is not covered by Kevin's insurance. What to do what to do?

Good luck at MLA Lysa if I don't talk to you before you go!

professing mama

2006-12-15T17:21:00.000-08:00

as i wrap up another quarter of teaching, and as i prepare for my first (and hopefully last) trek to the MLA, i recall a post from several years ago (courtesy of bitch, ph.d.).

following up with the previous post: aidan's all better now. dr. tully suggested prune juice, which worked wonders. he's back on track and seems more content than ever (well, duh, who wouldn't be after going almost two weeks without a BM?). for the scatalogically-sensitive, stop reading now. what i'm about to describe is seriously gross.

three hours after i gave him the prune juice, aidan decides to poop. but this isn't your typical 'explosive bm.' it's explosive, but it's also projectile. yes, that's right, projectile. he literally shat three to four feet in the air. and said fecal matter would've gotten further were it not for the wall, window, and dresser blocking its way. my brother and i were dumbfounded, in shock, frozen. aidan was fine (he was, in fact, smiling the whole time). i've never seen even an animal do this, let alone my four month old son. i kept thinking of linda blair in the exorcist. (seriously, my little bundle of love, my sweet angelic aidan became, for a few minutes, demon baby from hell). once shock gave way to reason, i proceded to clean up both baby and bedroom. dear brother and i are still talking about it with a sense of utter amazement. (an aside: my brother used to work at a kennel for exotic animals and not even he had seen anything quite like this.)

i guess one thing is for certain: prune juice is certainly my 'drug of choice' for constipation. now all we need to buy is a tarp for the bedroom wall next to the changing table. a big, heavy, washable tarp.