Category Archives: Motherhood

We Loved It!!

We attended our first Music Together class. Here’s a tidbit about MT:

Music Together is an internationally recognized early childhood music program for babies, toddlers, preschoolers, kindergarteners, and the adults who love them. First offered to the public in 1987, it pioneered the concept of a research-based, developmentally appropriate early childhood music curriculum that strongly emphasizes and facilitates adult involvement.

Music Together classes are based on the recognition that all children are musical. All children can learn to sing in tune, keep a beat, and participate with confidence in the music of our culture, provided that their early environment supports such learning.

The song book we received adds that musical competence in children is developed by experiencing music rather than learning concepts or information about music. This class is taught locally by Music for Families.

So there were ten kids and their mothers, and Bean was the youngest. The leader sang songs and did finger plays, and distributed instruments (sticks, castanets, tambourines) for the children to use. We also danced. It was fun and organized. The teacher was mindful of time and started right away. We also purchased additional materials — CDs to use at home or in the car and a song book. Bean loved every minute. We sat on the floor. She sat on my lap mostly as I rocked her or did hand movements. She was completely engaged the entire time, and immediately fell deeply asleep once in the car.

I’m looking forward to the ten weeks of this.

We also took another adventure later in the day to Whole Foods Market in Cupertino. It’s new and huge (reminds me of the one in Austin on 6th Street). She was fascinated with the sights, sounds, and smells. I felt such joy being out with her. She looks around, then looks at me and smiles. Yesterday we went to a nearby mall and into a fabric store. There were feather boas there, and I dangled some across her head and face. That got a happy response.

I love my Petite Eclair. She’s my yummy little buddy, so sweet and kissable.

Officially Four Months

Four months old! That’s how fast time is flowing!

Bean has several new sounds in her vocabulary. In addition to the creaky door moan, there is a high-pitched squeal that can sound like a prelude to crying or is just a noise she can make because it gives pleasure. The most recent addition is a grunt — “Uhn. Uhhn!” — when she wants something: more milk, a different toy, someone to pay attention to her.

Tummy time remains a challenge, because she flips herself onto her back as soon as she’s placed on her stomach. She’s working hard to turn herself from back to stomach; I don’t think she’s yet made the connection that this action is the “other side of the coin” to the tummy time. Once she does, I’m sure she’ll be rolling all over.

She squeals with delight now and laughs heartily. Some of her favorite games are:

  • Kicking her Lamaze Pupsqueak toy as I hang it over her feet; it jingles and jangles. She especially enjoys this when she’s in just a diaper, because she can use her toes to grab the toy.
  • The finger rocket game; Daddy pretends to launch a missile (his index finger) that goes way up, and it comes down in spirals and wiggles and lands on her stomach. The sound effects are what make this so fun. He makes the sound of the launch, whistles the falling action, and makes a crashing sound when his hand lands. Her face is a rapture of anticipation as she watches.
  • The animal sound game. This is self-explanatory.
  • The kissing game. I kiss different parts of her body and name them (feet, knees, elbow, head, etc.).
  • Bean fishing: we dangle linked plastic letters over her mouth as she’s lying on her back, and she opens her mouth like a fish taking bait. These letters are portable favorites. She rejected pacifiers at about nine weeks when she discovered her fingers, and now the letters and her fingers bring satisfaction.

Bean likes to sit up as much as possible and to stand with support. Her manual dexterity is increasingly refined. She grabs toys with more precision and manipulates them more smoothly.

She reaches out to touch a book when it is read to her and has begun grabbing the page to turn it (not necessarily in the direction of the story).

I’ve made short movies with the new camera (which has sound too), and showed them to her. She is fascinated and transfixed watching herself.

Thursday she sees the doctor for a check-up and vaccinations. Today we’ll begin a weekly class called Music Together at a local community center. I make an effort now to get out more with her; she’s a social being and avidly interested in the world. Coordinating when is a challenge. She continues to have about two good alert hours right after waking and eating before she becomes exhausted and needs a nap. It takes a lot of energy to grow a brain!

Bean fishing

The Remains of the Day

By 4:00 p.m. I’ve usually been up about 11 or 12 hours. My energy flags. My blood sugar plummets. I feel myself disconnect, wanting to stare off into the distance, tired of trying to think of another silly sound game or new way to play with a toy. I feel a little lonely at this time of day. Today I called my mother; on the east coast it’s three hours later in the day, so it’s a good time to chat. Talking with her reassured me that my feeling was normal, and that my inclination to slow down is good for me and Bean. While I chatted, I held a rattle in front of Bean (she was on her gym mat) and tilted it back and forth. This fascinated her as she played with the other dangling toys. And the break — the redirection of part of my attention to something other than her — helped me recharge. At the end of the call, I was able to read her five books (these are all short board books), and then I took her up to her room to play “Bean fishing” with linked plastic letters. I even made a short movie. When Husband arrived home, we gave her a bath and tucked her in at 7:00.

I realize that for Bean, every day everything is new. The same rattle she played with yesterday holds new fascination, because today she might be able to manipulate it a bit better. She does not have language or concepts yet, so she doesn’t think herself into boredom. I do attempt to be with her in her discoveries, to experience the world from her perspective. It’s human for energy to wane, though. Playing with the same toys is her practice, and keeping her company (sharing my attention in the moment) is mine.

the remains of the day

The Remains of the Day

Oh Clair

I remember this Gilbert O’Sullivan “two-hit wonder” song from my childhood. It’s a song about an uncle’s affection for his baby niece. (Nothing creepy like Neil Diamond’s Sweet Caroline). I loved it. Does anyone else? (Remember or love it?)

Perhaps this memory played a part in the process of naming my daughter.


Click here if you can’t see the video on the post.

Lyrics:
Clair. The moment I met you, I swear.
I felt as if something, somewhere,
had happened to me, which I couldn’t see.

And then, the moment I met you, again.
I knew in my heart that we were friends.
It had to be so, it couldn’t be no.

But try as hard as I might do, I don’t know why.
You get to me in a way I can’t describe.

Words mean so little when you look up and smile.
I don’t care what people say, to me you’re more than a child.

Oh Clair. Clair…

Clair. If ever a moment so rare
was captured for all to compare.
That moment is you in all that you do.

But why in spite of our age difference do I cry.
Each time I leave you I feel I could die.

Nothing means more to me than hearing you say,
“I’m going to marry you. Will you marry me? Oh hurray!”

Oh Clair. Clair…

Clair, I’ve told you before “Don’t you dare!”

“Get back into bed.”
“Can’t you see that it’s late.”
“No you can’t have a drink.”
“Oh allright then, but just just wait a minute.”

While I, in an effort to babysit, catch up on my breath,
what there is left of it.

You can be murder at this hour of the day.
But in the morning the sun will see my lifetime away.

Oh Clair. Clair…

Oh Clair.

Conflicted

When Bean was born and had colic and could hardly ever be put down, I feared I would never have a few free moments where my arms and hands belonged to me again. Gradually the screaming subsided, and as her personality emerges and interaction with her is so joyful, I find I want to hold her more, especially when she naps.

The problem is that if she learns to sleep best in my arms, that’s how she will need to sleep. Except occasionally I want not to hold her, if I’m hungry or have a business call to make. This sends a mixed message; inconsistency isn’t helpful with children.

We’ve been encouraging Bean to sleep in her crib at least at night, and it’s working. But the other day I was seized with awareness that she is very likely to be my only child, and she won’t be small for very long, nor will she want to be held forever. It makes me tearful. It’s a small grief, a glimpse into the reality of parenting — my job is to love and protect and empower her to leave me someday.

So I want to hold her. Okay?

A Gold-Star, Red-Letter Day

Usually Bean wakes around 4 or 5 a.m. hungry. However, the past couple of nights, she woke at 2:30 or 3:00 and ate, only to wake again at 5 a.m. Of course Mommy came quickly with a bottle, except… she wasn’t hungry. She wanted company and to play a little, then go to sleep in her swing. Well. Momma isn’t enthused about that.

Now, I’ve resorted to the swing since she was born, because it works (mostly, most often), and because it’s convenient, and she doesn’t protest, and I’m conflict-avoidant. And somewhere along the way I developed the idea that she would not let me put her to sleep in the crib. She’ll let her father but not me. Of course, this isn’t true. She doesn’t have the power to prevent me, and it’s not as though she has a complex thought process yet. It’s simply been our custom not to use the crib. And many times I’ll just hold her while she sleeps in my arms, although as she gains weight my arms are going numb. I rationalize that she won’t be small forever and she won’t want to be held forever, so I’m enjoying this while I can. I’m aware this needs to change eventually. Given that we’ve had two days of night-time waking where she wasn’t hungry, I decided this might be a good starting point.

So I put her back in her crib at 5:05 a.m., kissed her and said “night-night” and left. The protest crying commenced. Boy, was she mad!! I checked on her at 10 minutes, then 15, then 30. Each time I entered the room, she would calm down and settle when I gently rubbed her tummy. I said loving things and then left after a couple minutes. The protest crying would begin again. During this entire time, I was uncomfortable, struggling with a desire to just pick her up and put her in the swing. But really, I kept telling myself, she is all right. I had tried to feed her. I’d checked her diaper. She’s still sleepy (she’d yawned several times). The cries waned and silent intervals grew longer, until at 6:20 she fell asleep.

She woke up 20 minutes later, and by that time, I knew she was hungry. She ate well, and then I kept her up to play until 8:40. She became whiney and rubbed her eyes a lot, so I took Bean to her room, rocked her a few minutes, and then put her in the crib. She woke and stirred, then fell asleep. This lasted for 30 minutes until the garbage trucks came. She woke and fussed, and I decided to put her in the swing. She slept until 10:45, woke to eat, and then played more.

At noon she got tired again; I rocked her and put her in the crib. This time she slept 1 hour, 15 minutes. And guess what? I got to take a shower!!!! I was extremely pleased about both achievements. Bean woke cheerful, and we had a lovely couple hours of play. I put her in just a diaper on a soft blanket in her room (cranking up the heat), and she luxuriated in the softness. She hasn’t had much bare skin time since she was born at a cool time of year. We played with jingly toys, and I made her laugh a lot. I read her stories, and then it was snack time again.

The last nap of the day was around 4:00 p.m., and I put her in the swing for that. She’d dozed off just as she finished her bottle (and I fed her in the living room), so it made sense not to disrupt her much. Since I’d been awake since 4:30 a.m., I also napped on the sofa. She woke at 6:00 p.m. And now she is in bed, has been asleep since 7:30.

Oh, I know this blow-by-blow account is probably tedious reading, but I’m pretty happy with what we managed to do today. I learned that:

It’s all right that I want to enjoy her while she’s small.
Eventually she’ll get too heavy for me to hold.
Eventually she’ll outgrow the swing.
I can put Bean to sleep in her crib.
I can survive the discomfort of her protests.
She doesn’t always have to sleep in her crib for naps.
While consistency is good, there is no one right way to do things.
We have her sleeping comfortably at night in the crib, which is no small feat.

Tomorrow we’ll try this again. My strategy will be to try to extinguish 5 a.m. social wakings by doing the “let cry, then check and console” method, and I’ll be consistent about this. I’ll be open to trying the other naps in the crib, but won’t berate myself for using the swing sometimes. Eventually, we’ll get this sorted out.

I’ve Been Reading

Being There: The Benefits of a Stay-At-Home Parent
This short book discusses the issues of attachment disorder and behavioral problems that may arise from inconsistent care-giving provided in day care centers and by nannies at home. Its purpose is to provide a rationale for having one SAHP (stay-at-home parent) care for the child until at least 2-3 years of age, when the child is no longer in the pre-verbal stage. The book does provide supporting information from studies and reports as well as case studies. It also has a section providing financial ideas and solutions to help families make it feasible. It is definitely not a “feel-good” book. The author clearly states she is not against day care, just that most day care has so much staff turnover and that the frequent change of caregivers (even nannies) is damaging to infants. It’s a compelling book. If I needed reinforcement for my decision to stay home, this book is it.

Hot Flashes Warm Bottles: First-Time Mothers Over Forty
This book had once been on my wish list, and I’m so glad I borrowed it from the library instead. The basic thrust of the book is that women over 40 who have children face competing needs: those of their child versus their own “need” to assess their life purpose and explore themselves in solitude. It also focuses on how motherhood makes women feel frumpy and asexual, and how women over 40 become “invisible” in our culture; so it’s supposedly a double-whammy. Oh, and that women over 40 don’t have as much energy to give to their children because their bodies are aging. And that women over 40 have to deal with caring for aging parents as well as children. Well. My view on this is that a woman over 40 doesn’t typically become pregnant by accident for the first time; it’s often a conscious choice and frequently the result of expensive, painful fertility treatment. Women over 40 who never had a child before have had decades to find themselves, and by having a child they enter into a relationship where they understand they are trading solitude and autonomy for the joys and challenges of nurturing a human being. If you want time to still explore yourself in the second half of your life, then remain childless. As for grieving the loss of being the focus of wolf whistles and men’s appraising glances, this is something I don’t relate to, since being a sex object wasn’t important to me before, either. I’m not saying this is a bad book; it simply didn’t tell me anything new or interesting.

Motherhood Without Guilt: Being the Best Mother You Can Be and Feeling Great About It
A book full of questions submitted by mothers. This book might be helpful to women who are much younger and/or less insightful about who they are and what they want in life. Again, not a bad book, but one that covered issues I’ve either resolved or am aware I’ll need to contend with at some point, such as: You don’t have to be a good housekeeper or cook to be a good mom and taking care of yourself can be good for your whole family.
If you need validation or permission for being human and a mother (and who doesn’t now and then?), this book might be useful.

The Mother Dance: How Children Change Your Life
Of all the books, this one contained anecdotes that resonated. I still skimmed most of it, because it again told me nothing new. However, Lerner is a psychologist and pretty transparent when sharing her own experiences; she’s capable of a humility that drew me in. And the following did capture my attention:

Maybe love is the word we should be unraveling. I don’t believe in “unconditional love,” as it is conventionally prescribed for mothers like so much sentimental pap. Only highly evolved Zen Buddhists look at their difficult, out-of-control children and feel nothing but immense respect, openness, curiosity, and interest as to why the Universe has brought these small persons into their lives and what they are here to teach them. To achieve the transcendent state of unconditional love, it is best to have a cat, although even here you may discover your limits.

–Harriet Lerner

I suspect the Zen Buddhist mother I know would say that it is not achieving transcendence but rather the moment-by-moment process that matters, and that even Zen Buddhist mothers can feel frazzled and angry at times. However, I do like how Lerner summed up the question of whether children are worth the effort:

Children are never easy, so don’t bring them into the world or adopt them to bolster your happiness. And don’t have them if your life’s purpose is to dwell in complete stillness, serenity, and simplicity; or if you have a great dread of being interrupted; or if you are on a particular life path that demands your full attention and devotion. Also keep in mind that children are not a “solution.” As Anne Lamott reminds us, there is no problem for which children are the solution.

To opt for kids is to opt for chaos, complexity, turbulence, and truth. Kids will make you love them in a way you never thought possible. They will also confront you with all the painful and unsavory emotions that humans put so much energy into trying to avoid. Children will teach you about yourself and about what it’s like not to be up to the demands of the most important responsibility you’ll ever have. They’ll teach you that you are capable of deep compassion, and also that you are definitely not the nice, calm, competent, clear-thinking, highly evolved person you fancied yourself to be before you became a mother.

Your children will call on you to grow up. You will have the opportunity to achieve a more complex and textured view of your own mother. Your marriage, if it lasts, will be both deepened and strained. And whether you stay married or get divorced, the stakes are so much higher for how you navigate your part in the relationship with your child’s father.

…I also think that kids are the best teachers of life’s most profound spiritual lessons: that pain and suffering are as much a part of life as happiness and joy; that change and impermanence are all we can count on for sure; that we don’t really run the show; and that if we can’t find the maturity to surrender to these difficult truths, we’ll always be unhappy that our lives — and our children’s — aren’t turning out the way we expected or planned.

–Harriet Lerner

Hear, hear, sister!

My Little Sack of Potatoes

Bean is getting heavy to carry! I think we may have a baby carrier that’s a winner.

When she was born, we first tried the Infantino sling. Bean hated it. It required her to be horizontal, and this wasn’t comfortable with the reflux. It was also dark and hot.

We tried a Moby wrap. Getting the damn thing wrapped around me and arranged was a lot of bother, and she hated it too, because she had to face inward. This child prefers to face the world. I know when she’s bigger she could face outward — the Moby wrap allows for all sorts of positions — but it lacks structure, and I think that bothered her too.

We did a little research. Consumer Reports rated the top three carriers as the Baby Bjorn Active ($120), the Baby Bjorn Original ($80), and the Kolcraft Jeep 2-in-1 ($40). They were rated on safety, ease of use, and comfort.

So today we all went to the store and tried on the Evenflo Snuggli (way too many straps and clips), a Baby Bjorn Active (we didn’t like the snaps at the bottom and it was pricey), and a Kolcraft Jeep 2-in-1. The only one she did not cry in was this last one. So we bought it and brought it home. At first she cried in it when we faced her inward. Facing outward she started crying but was soon distracted by watching Grandma cook, and then Husband took her for a short walk, and she was fascinated. My hope is the trepidation of the unknown will diminish and she’ll “take” to it. This would allow me to go to the grocery store and other short outings without lugging the stroller.

Growth Spurt

Today Bean is 16 weeks old (nearly 4 months), and she graduated to wearing clothes for 3-6 months of age. We guess she weighs 12 pounds by now. The clothes are a little baggy on her, as she’s still long for her age but not roly-poly.

Fortunately, we have plenty of clothes for this age/size range: 12 long-sleeved/long-legged sleep-n-plays; 8 long-sleeved/short-legged onesies; 12 short-sleeved/short-legged onesies. The unfortunate thing is we have a huge wardrobe of outfits for 0-3 months that we never used, mostly because they were for summer season and she was born in the fall, and some because they were impractical. Denim overalls with flowers embroidered on them are cute, but they make changing a baby’s diaper an act of frustration for all involved. Many of these outfits were gifts, so we’ll bestow them on friends who are expecting in the spring. Bean pretty much lives in onesies and sleep-n-play outfits.

When she was ill the past few weeks, her good sleep habits went awry. The last two nights she woke frequently shortly after being fed. And I still need to work on a) putting her in the crib for the last portion of her night sleep (5-8 a.m.) and naps, and/or b) if she sleeps in her swing, getting her accustomed to motionless sleep, which supposedly promotes deeper, more restful snoozing.

Some things Bean enjoys:

  • Her face being tickled by my wet hair after I shower.
  • Being put on a blanket and rolled from side to side.
  • Practicing sit-ups by lying on a blanket and being pulled gently to a sitting position on the floor.
  • Kicking an inflatable beach ball while in her bouncer.
  • Staring at pinwheels I bought for her and put in flower pots on the back deck (and one pinwheel I use inside).
  • Being read to; she snuggles on our laps and looks at the book as we read. She even reaches out to touch the book, especially if it’s a touch-and-feel book.
  • “Singing” herself to sleep (her creaky door serenades).
  • Being kissed on her feet, tummy, face, and head.
  • Splashing Daddy and the bathroom sink and floor during her bath.
  • Chewing on toys, fingers (anyone’s), and cold teethers.
  • Sitting up on a lap like a big girl at the dining table while we eat (she can hold her head steady for a good length of time).
  • Having lively cooing and babbling conversations with us.
  • Being sung to; some of her favorites are Home On the Range, A Bicycle Built for Two, Do-Re-Mi, Take Me Out to the Ball Game.
  • Plastering her world with drool.
  • Smiling and giggling, and being smiled at; she smiles with her whole body — waves her arms, wriggles, kicks her legs.

Never Getting Divorced

We have a bank account with the Bank That Owns Everything. An added wrinkle is that this account was opened in Texas. When we moved here, we were told that California is Special, and we’d need to close the Texas account and open a new one in this state if we wanted to use the ATM to make deposits — except that we’d lose the long-time customer privileges that we had with the current account. The only other hitch to keeping the Texas account is that any time we need to make a change with the account, we are transferred a zillion times from representative to representative until we are connected with the appropriate person in Texas.

I called the Bank ahead of time to ask what I needed to do to change my name on the account from Kathryn Petro-Harper to Kathryn P. Harper and was told a visit to a branch bank with an I.D. would be enough. So I went in and said, “I want the account to reflect my name as it is legally on my Social Security card and driver’s license. I want to drop the hyphen and use an initial instead of my full middle name.” I was told I had to come back with a copy of my marriage license. I said the marriage license was irrelevant and actually showed me listed by my maiden name, and iterated that I had several forms of identification that sufficed, and that I’d been told by their staff this would be enough. The Customer Service Drone repeatedly said, “You need to bring the marriage certificate. These aren’t legal documents.”

So I had to turn into the customer I dislike: the one who won’t go away, take a lame excuse for an answer, who requests to speak to a manager because she smells bullshit and doesn’t want to get any on her. I said I had arranged for a babysitter and that I was not leaving until my request was fulfilled. I didn’t get rude, but the situation became a little tense.

I walked out having negotiated the following (through the California Customer Service Person who spoke with a Texas Customer Service Person and wouldn’t let me speak with him directly): they would drop the hyphen but said they had to keep Petro on the account legally, though I could have our checks reprinted using the initial. Never mind the fact that when I was put on the account in 2004, I was unmarried and signed on the account as Kathryn M. Petro using my driver’s license as proof of identification. In 2005, they did need a copy of the marriage license to drop the M. and make it Petro-Harper (as did Social Security and CA DMV but once those records are amended this should be enough). So what changed in two years? (Please don’t attempt to answer that.)

Anyhow, I now need to do this or something like it with all my financial accounts, medical records, library cards, online shopping accounts, the IRS, our will and trust, friends, family, etc. (I’m fortunate that family and friends won’t require identification before accepting this news.) So I called Husband and told him we were never going to divorce, because this is the second time I’ve gone through the process and never will again. He laughed. Oh, foolish me, that I didn’t foresee this change of heart and mind once I became a mother!

So again, to reiterate: I am no longer using Petro-Harper as my surname. Now it is, simply, Harper. A fine name it is!

My Heart Stopped

Today Bean was a bit subdued and sleepy. It could be due to the circadian rhythm of winter. It could result from all the excitement from the 24th and 25th. Could be she’s fighting off a cold or other illness that she was exposed to. She wasn’t cranky — just quiet, and she slept a lot — several naps of two hours each.

For one nap in the afternoon, Bean slept from 3-5 p.m. She’d stirred a few times. I was immersed in a book as she slept in the swing. Shortly after 5:00 I was seized with the realization she had not stirred in awhile. When she’s in motion in the swing, it’s hard to see her chest move as she breathes. I looked at her. She was a normal color but completely immobile. I touched her left hand. No response. I then lifted her right hand. It was absolutely limp and floppy. I let it go, and it fell. I did this again and with the same result. By this time I felt panic and horror; the ground fell away, my head whirled, and my chest clenched while I lifted her hand again twice more before putting my hand on her tummy and jostling her awake. All this happened within a few seconds; describing it makes it seem longer and reduces the intensity of the momentary terror I felt that my child might have died as she slept next to me. I wanted to cry from relief.

She woke from a deep sleep at my intrusion, bleary-eyed and confused. I apologized and scooped her up. She was hungry and devoured six ounces. She remained awake, quiet but alert. Husband came home and she was cheerful, but oh-so-sleepy. Maybe it’s a growth spurt? She consumes about 24-29 ounces a day of milk, which is a hearty amount. She’s growing brraaaaaaaiiiiiiiinssss, and that may require more sleep some days.

As my MIL said, we worry when they don’t sleep, and we worry when they do. I guess the only cure for that is experience. I do feel vastly more competent and confident that I did even four weeks ago. I read Bean’s cries and expressions more accurately. And oh my goodness, I’m falling more in love with her daily. Holding her, cuddling and kissing her, feeling her respond to this with smiles and affection… what’s not to love?

Tucked Away

Normally I put up holiday decorations the day after Thanksgiving and put them all away on New Year’s Day. This year I didn’t adorn the house until December 8th and, desperate for floor space again, we packed the tree and other items up yesterday afternoon. All our presents are living in their appropriate places for use and enjoyment. There will come a time when we loll in the afterglow of the holiday, with the tree and presents still stacked around once opened. But we’ve got tummy time to do, and rolling over to practice! And new toys to play with and books to read, of course.

I was reading The Book of New Family Traditions, and I realized Bean and I have a diaper-changing ritual that has simply evolved over time. When we head to her room for a change, I sing a little song: “Bean needs a clean (or dry) diaper (three times), yes she does, yes she does!” I sing that a few times on the way. Then when her new diaper is on, I kiss her right foot several times before tucking it into her outfit, and then I kiss her left foot and tuck it in. Diaper changing time is always full of smiles (except when her rash was so bad, and it’s gone now, thank goodness).

On Christmas Eve we each opened a gift. As I tore the paper on her gift, Bean began to laugh a rolling, from-the-belly laugh. I kept tearing, and she hooted like it was the funniest thing ever. She hadn’t laughed like that before. It was the most amazing experience and got us laughing too. Husband had the presence of mind to make a 30-second video of it. It’s a present to cherish.

Going Single Again

It’s time. I seek simplicity and unity.

I spent 40+ years with Petro as my surname. I earned two degrees and a professional license with it. So when I got married, I struggled with the question of whether to keep it, hyphenate it, or drop it altogether. I tried hyphenating. What a hassle! Most people ignore the part before the hyphen, or it causes them to stutter. (Grocery clerks are apparently mandated to look at the receipt for your name and then use it when thanking you for shopping there; they mangle it every time.) My doctor’s office doesn’t accommodate hyphens, so all my records were Petroharper, which is just weird. And since I now have a child whose last name is Harper, it’s just an added wrinkle I don’t need. I’m tired of clarifying that my surname is different from my child’s, tired of spelling it, and tired of explaining.

Besides, when I changed my social security record and driver’s license, there was no hyphenation. Petro legally became my middle name. My driver’s license renewal came to Harper, Kathryn. So if they think my surname is Harper, I guess it is.

But seriously, I’m going to start 2008 as Kathryn Petro Harper, and since middle names are not that important in this culture, this means I’ll usually be Kathryn P. Harper on most documents, and Kathryn Harper in general. If this is of interest to you, consider yourself notified.

At least I didn’t attempt to change my surname to an unpronounceable symbol, a la The Artist Formerly Known As Prince (who apparently learned his lesson and returned to being, simply, Prince). I spared myself ridicule. Whew!

I Hear the Door Hinges Singing

The Pixie has added a new sound to her repertoire. Oh, she still sounds like Cindy Lou Who when she babbles. However, when she is unwinding before sleep, she’s taken to a kind of squeaky-creaky moaning for up to 30 minutes at a stretch. Seriously, she sounds like a human imitating a door that desperately cries for oil on its hinges. At first it’s cute, but after awhile it grates a little, as it is not a melodic sound. Eventually she quiets and falls asleep. We’re amused by her little serenades. I’m sure all is well. However, if she starts saying Redrum, redrum over and over, then I’ll worry!

Hibernation

I felt woozy the past couple of days. Every time I stood up or got up from the floor, the blood would rush from my head, I’d hear ringing in my ears, and the edge of my vision would go white. I also felt hot but not feverish, as though the room was just too warm. I was a little dizzy — not room-spinning dizzy, just off-balance. I thought perhaps that, being sleep deprived, I’d also neglected eating decently. So I ate a hearty meal and took a three hour nap yesterday. (Thanks to my MIL, or that would not have been possible.) I awoke still feeling weird, called my doctor, and they fit me in.

After a brief visit and two blood-pressure readings (one sitting and the other standing), the preliminary diagnosis was simply dehydration. I drink enough water, or so I think, but apparently not. My blood pressure dropped significantly when I moved from sitting to standing. It had been awhile since I saw him, so the doctor also ordered blood tests: anemia, blood sugar, thyroid, vitamin B12, and cholesterol, just to be sure. I went home, drank a quart of water, and I did feel much better.

However, I still feel a little funky. Possibly this is just exhaustion. Husband came home last night commenting that he too felt a little woozy. I ran an errand last night to Baby Depot, where I searched for long-sleeved bodysuits (no legs) in a slightly larger size, as Bean is getting too big for the ones she has and we’re still using the legless outfits because she’s being changed so frequently. I found one package and made my way toward the registers. When I saw the line of customers snaking out the front of the store (probably 75 people in line) and two registers open, I promptly returned the package to its location and left. I thought: what folly to have attempted this! Yet it had seemed so important I get out to find these. I returned home empty-handed and rued having wasted the gas, time, and effort.

Today it is rainy. There are no errands to run. It’s a good stay to stay indoors to read and play and nap. Bean’s bottom is better (not entirely but much), and the tummy problems are slowly clearing up. She’s still not feeling up to a lot of play. We’ve done a lot of cuddling.

How interesting that this is a season of pushing ourselves to make merry, do more more more, decorate, buy gifts we hope will please and impress, when it’s the very time of year our bodies want to rest. Winter is a season of restoration. Yes, we need reminders that the light will return, and it’s enjoyable to see twinkly colored lights everywhere, but a little bit goes a long way. How can you enjoy it if you’re busy fighting for a parking space? Stay home. Nestle in. Put on your jammies and make a cup of cocoa. Maybe bake a batch of cookies (no need to make 15 different kinds; one will do). Let yourself sleep when your body is tired. Eat when you’re hungry. Give yourself over to the real season.

Axial Tilt is the Reason for the Season

So Sensitive

Bean saw the doctor today. (I appreciate that doctor. She worked us in, and still took her time with us. I never feel pressured by her or as if her hand is on the door knob during the visit.) She asked if anything had changed in the last week. I told her about our aborted attempt from December 8-10 to transition her back to regular formula. She said based on the fact there is no fever and no vomiting, it is probable that the regular formula is the cause of the diarrhea. It can apparently take several days for the body to initiate a reaction to a substance it cannot tolerate, and it can take two or three weeks for it to be completely processed. In this case, the substance is whole milk proteins. She was doing fine on the hypoallergenic stuff. Whether she’s just got an immature digestive system and will grow out of this, or whether it’s a true intolerance/allergy remains to be seen. It seems that we’ll be using the Nutramigen “liquid gold” for the rest of her first year. We won’t be introducing solid food until she’s at least six months old, also because of her sensitive digestion.

The doctor also decided that her increased weight requires a slightly higher dose of Zantac, since the reflux might also be contributing to her discomfort. Bean weighs 11 pounds, 3 ounces now. Still a bitty girl!

As for the diaper rash, a bare bottom was encouraged. A baking soda sitz bath once a day. No anti-fungal or cortisone cream. Instead, she gave samples of an over-the-counter ointment that is more powerful than Desitin, etc. and is used in post-surgical wounds. It’s not usually stocked, so I called a pharmacy and they said they would have some for me tomorrow. The stuff is called Calmoseptine Ointment. If the rash isn’t gone in 3-4 days, I’m supposed to call the doctor back. Problem is, that runs us into the weekend and then the holiday. So let’s hope Santa brings a healed bottom for my little girl.

She’s eating only small amounts still, and today she is under her usual amount significantly. She will get better, everyone says so. We just haven’t turned the corner quite yet on this.

However, she’s getting old enough that attempts to comfort her are received and responded to. She knows she’s being cared for and allows herself to relax, be caressed, cuddled, and crooned to. She allowed that before, but now she’s more aware of us. I feel for the first time like her mommy. I knew I was a mother, but not until recently have I become a mommy.