Category Archives: Recreation

It Is What It Is

I inherited a little bit of Crystal Palace Musique. Not enough to make a “summer shawl,” so I made a lightweight blanket for Claire to use in the summer when it’s chilly around the edges.

summer weight baby blanket

3 balls of Crystal Palace Musique, 45% acrylic, 40% wool, 15% cotton; 65 yds/50 gram skein, size 19 needles.

Now

Increasingly I live in the time called Now. My days are full; as Claire becomes more active and engaged, the more present I become. Oh, I do think about future things (my tasks for the next day), and I find past ruminations intrude often. When I “come to” my mind gnawing a past experience like a bone, I stop myself and let the thought go. I’m sure this happens at least dozens of times daily. However, by the end of the day I creep into bed having felt I really lived all day. Besides, by bedtime all I am aware of is that it is time to sleep. I’m tired, very tired, at sunset, but I enjoy my life more than ever. I’m never bored anymore.

I love watching Claire when Husband reads to her. There are a bunch of books that we’ve read often enough that she squeals when we get to parts that make her happy. She’s sitting entirely on her own now. I observed as Husband sat on the floor next to her reading Barnyard Banter (a book we like so much I wrote a review for Amazon) that she squeaked with happiness and alternated between looking at the book and looking up at him. If there was ever a moment to feel adoration, that was it.

I myself am adored beyond my wildest expectations. I am desired, needed, demanded. Claire haaaates the new play yard. Hates it, hates it, hates it. It is prison. It is a place of betrayal and abandonment. It’s where Mommy puts Claire when Mommy needs two free hands and for Claire to be safe. The instant she is set onto the mat she begins wailing. I do what I need to do quickly and talk to her when I’m near enough. If I must leave the room I tell her and say that I’ll be right back. The tears aren’t just sadness. Oh no! She’s screaming mad too! Do not want! I’m going to report you to management!! So I believe separation anxiety has begun.

Another vocal development is what I call the Groan of Concentration. There’s a sound she makes when she examines a toy closely or when she’s trying a new move; it sounds like she’s softly clearing her throat, but it’s not a long “harrrumph.” It’s got a little staccato to it. Her repertoire over the months has grown so much. As a newborn there was the Cindy Lou Who coo. Then the Beavis and Butthead chuckle (which became a dulcet laugh). Then the Poop Shriek; she inhales sharply as though she’s watching a shocking event unfold. When we hear that sound, we know what needs to happen. And now the Groan of Concentration. What an interesting little person she is!

what?

Containment

The Super Yard we bought just didn’t cut it. I had trouble with opening it (and it was too tall for me just to lean in and put Claire down or pick her up). It was hard plastic on the side, and dull gray. It looked like a kennel.

So Husband did more research and learned there were good reviews for the Graco Pack-n-Play Tot Block yard. It’s colorful, got soft mesh sides, and has toys sewn in on the sides that squeak and make crinkly noises. Claire’s first time inside was good; she was very curious about all the colors and sounds.

play yard!

Now I’ve got a safe place to put her when I need to turn my back for a few moments. She’s rolling all over the room with great deliberation and covering a lot of distance. We moved the cat food to the second floor and moved furniture around to clear floor space. She’s changed so much in the past week sometimes it’s hard to believe my eyes. She’s saying “Ma-ma-ma” and “Da-da-da” (indiscriminately, of course, but oh so distinctly!). She’s having little conversations with herself and us that honest-to-goodness sound like they have some kind of structure, some kind of grammar, as if she’s speaking a foreign language. She is such a bright little spark. She enjoyed being the center of attention and charmed us all every single day.

dining out in ben lomond, ca

A New World

I marvel at how Claire’s existence has opened my life. It’s also reassuring to see how people react to her. We go out daily (for my well-being as much as hers).

On Thursday we went to the mall. I’m not a fan of malls, but I thought it would be interesting (anything different is inherently interesting to her). The sunlight streamed through cathedral-type ceilings, and there colors and noises galore. The first store I entered was the Build-a-Bear Workshop. An employee approached to greet me and as soon as she saw Claire she said “Oh hello!” I’m sure they say that to every baby. Well, Claire is always ready with a smile, so she gave that gift. The woman cooed and exclaimed, and called her coworker over. And of course the more they talked to her and me, and used encouraging happy tones, the more Claire cooed and babbled. And the women said things like, “You know this baby gets talked to a lot!” “She’s so happy!” “Look how interested she is!”

Later we sat on a bench watching people. An elderly lady in a loud pink floral blouse and blazer approached and said, “Look at you!” Claire smiled and wiggled. The woman continued, “Does my colorful outfit rock your world?” and Claire babbled, and the conversation continued. As she departed, she said, “You’re a happy, happy baby. I feel it in my heart.”

I went into LUSH and a similar encounter occurred. A staff member approached to greet me and upon seeing Claire, smiled and said hello, and Claire responded. Among the many exclamations uttered, the woman said, “Oh, you’re beautiful! You have such a spark. You’re going to have love and joy all your life.” Then she spoke to me how she loves babies, and of her nephew. Claire opens up all sorts of conversations for me.

It was interesting watching Claire as we waited for the elevator. A ‘tween and her mother were also waiting. Claire gazed at the young woman, studying her intently. The girl looked at Claire and I saw Claire’s cheeks twitch, ready to smile, but the girl did not smile at or speak to her. (That would have been so uncool.) I watched the smile die, but Claire continued to watch the girl, who would glance at her occasionally.

We encountered one more person in the mall, an older woman, who commented on her alertness. (This woman also felt free to grill me with questions about how I feed her, since Claire’s petite, and whether I intended to have more kids. Irritating!)

At Central Park, similar incidents occur. A couple weeks ago a woman came rushing over as though she were greeting a long-lost friend. At first I thought Do I know you? Should I know you? because of how familiar she acted, but it turned out to be all for Claire. The lady said she just loves babies, and that she’s all done having kids (she had a 6-year old with her). She got down on her knees, cooed and spoke to Claire, said blessings in Hindi. I asked if she’d like to hold Claire and the answer was yes. She kissed Claire and hugged her, and when she handed Claire back, she said I’d made her day.

Yesterday at the park, a man with a leashed black dog was there with his grandchild. Claire is fascinated by dogs and cats (thank you, Sandra Boynton). She wriggled in my arms, and I asked if she could meet the dog. The man said yes, the dog is friendly. So I kneeled down and the man helped us pet her. The man commented on how curious and friendly Claire was, how much she smiled, how bright her eyes. And Claire got her first doggy kiss on the face (unexpectedly, and the man apologized, but Claire didn’t mind).

With her grandparents, aunts, and uncles being far away, and with no cousins, Claire is truly a singular child. So the fact that people are drawn to her and that she likes people makes me feel joyful and hopeful.

basket

And They Change Again

As soon as I write about how Claire is now taking her morning nap later, it changes. Today she’s whiny, clingy, and fussy. She napped briefly in her swing. She won’t fall and stay asleep for me to put her in the crib. I put her back in the swing instead so I could get a bite to eat. (What ever will I do once she’s too big for the swing?) She’s not sleeping, just lying there looking forlorn. I think she feels unwell. She’s been sucking on wet cloths lately (another tooth coming?) and she has a diaper rash from a reaction to sweet potatoes. So she probably hurts at both ends (even with Calmoseptine, she needs frequent diaper changes and cries when her diaper is even just wet).

Perhaps what I need to do is submerse myself. I’m not good at that. I’m not a submissive personality. I’m still struggling to keep a piece of myself, to have control. I’m still looking for patterns, routines, schedules. I’m still dividing my life into “work” and “play,” “on-duty” and “off-duty.” But the truth is that I’ve got this little person in my life now. I made the choice to have her and committed to her care. This means long hours. I used to commit my life to long hours for work and school and accepted that my energy and time for extracurricular activities was limited. This was okay with me, because I had a larger purpose, a bigger goal. Well, I’ve got a new purpose now. Surely it’s worth devotion. The books will be there. I’ll still make art and knit. It just may take longer to accomplish things, and the number of books read or things knitted will be smaller.

Claire’s becoming such a little person. More vocal. More insistent. Physically much stronger. Louder. More present. When she’s in her highchair and I’m making her cereal, I’ll look up at her from the kitchen, and she beams a smile. She looks like a toddler to me already. I feel a change. She’s no longer my little vulnerable baby to cuddle. She’s separating, exploring. I’m also learning on a new level what mothering requires. She’s more tangential in her actions, and sometimes I have to stop myself from exerting my will. I mean, what’s the rush? If there’s no appointment to get to, no destination, then I don’t need to direct things. But I do try to direct things. (What’s so important that I’ve got to do? Go back to the web?) I described this to Husband, and he put it a way I liked. I’m her support staff. My role is to be with her while she grows. It’s just that now she’s more self-directed, I’m learning what this really means. In a way, I’m learning how connected I am to her, but a different kind of connection. It’s not as sweet and cuddly. It’s more of a serving role. Even though she’s moving away from me in one way, the situation requires more of me in another way. And it’s an exciting shift, full of discovery; it’s just very different from the first 6 months.

In addition to this adaptation, there’s the usual unknowing about what she needs. Some days are perfect. I offer food when she’s hungry and she eats. She is tired and I rock her and she sleeps. She plays alone with her toys for chunks of time, giving me a chance to eat. Today she is fussy and clingy. She doesn’t have words to tell me why. I try different interventions, but on days like this little seems to work. If I judged my success as a mother based on how regular every day was, on whether I could get her to routinely nap, I’d give myself a big fat F. Fortunately, I’m not being graded. I can instead just accept that every day can be different and go with the flow. I can accept that expectations will not be met and let go of them.

I did manage to tackle the office/art room. I put Claire in a bouncy chair with me and very quickly sorted things out. I had about 10-15 minutes, and when she started to get restless I pushed her just a little longer so I could get a little more done. (I’m learning that this is a negotiation.) I made quite a dent in it all, although some of the stuff just moved into a pile on the floor instead of the desk. One advantage to squeezing this task in with her nearby is that I don’t waste time over-thinking and lose myself in reverie about what I could do with the item. Either it’s important or it’s not.

Things Change

And I’m a little slow adapting mentally.

Now Claire wakes at 6 a.m. So do I. We’re going 3 to 3.5 hours before her first nap (she won’t sleep unless she’s really tired). That puts my free time to take a shower smack at the same time Husband gets up to shower. She’s not really napping much in the afternoon anymore. Maybe a half hour to 45 minutes.

Claire is mobile now, and I see how much of my daily life will now become an active vigil protecting her from hurting herself as she explores. That makes getting other tasks done a little harder.

We eat dinner (but lately I haven’t even thought about dinner so we’ve been eating take-out). I’m very tired a lot of the time. By 6:30 (Husband comes home) we eat, and he has time with Claire. He puts her to bed at 8 p.m. After dinner I pick up toys, load the dishwasher, prepare the coffee maker, get out what I need for Claire’s meals the next day (bib, towel, oatmeal in a cup), make milk. Then I’m “off-duty” and it’s about 8 to 8:30. If I haven’t showered, then I have the option to do so.

Then I’m so exhausted I can hardly see straight. I have about 1 to 1.5 hours of “me time” before I crash into sleep. Yet I don’t have the mental energy to concentrate on anything, so reading is difficult. The list of books on my sidebar has been there a long time; it will probably take me the whole year to read those. There’s not much of me left to enjoy at this time of day.

What I’m saying is: I work a 14-hour day and have 90 minutes to myself before sleep (if I want to get a good rest to be functional next day). Husband, on the other hand, gets up at 9 a.m., goes to work at 10:00, comes home at 6:30 p.m., puts Claire to bed at 8:00, and then has time to himself. He usually stays up until 1 a.m.

It doesn’t seem fair. Am I complaining? Maybe a little. I’m really tired, but not just physically. I need to somehow replenish other aspects of myself sometimes too. The office/art room is a disaster, all horizontal surfaces covered, so I’m overwhelmed when I enter the room. Can’t even clean it up, but that must happen before I can start anything else.

This is the life of a mother: long hours. A man works from sun to sun, but a woman’s work is never done.

Ooo, Flickr Has Video Now!

Flickr is offering Pro users the option to upload short videos. I tried it, and it worked!

For people who friends and family contacts of mine on Flickr, you can go to my photo stream and view the video. In order to see the video you need to log in to your Flickr account first.

If you haven’t become a friend on Flickr and you’re curious, and if you’ve been reading awhile and/or have commented here, you can become a friend to see photos and videos. You need to log-in or create an account at Flickr and make me a contact (designate me as a friend too).

Right Before Bed

Last night, Husband proposed we just go to bed after we put Claire to bed for the night and read for awhile before turning in. He observed that I looked exceptionally tired. We hadn’t done that in a long time — just relaxing together in bed just prior to sleep. So he read one of his Straight Dope books, while I drew in my journal. My brain was too weary to look at words and think. I needed a non-linear, right-brain activity. Here’s what came out. It was a thoroughly enjoyable way to spend time before sleep.

journey into motherhood

Journey Into Motherhood / 7×10″ sketch paper with colored marker

Poor Pixie really is sick. She threw up twice yesterday, had a slight fever, and generally felt cruddy. She slept most of the day. Needless to say, we will not attend our first Baby Loves Disco. I was able to give the tickets away, though, so they’re not wasted.

Okay, I Admit It

I’ll face reality. A Mindful Life has become a mommy blog. Actually, it’s more of a diary of my experience; I certainly don’t pontificate on motherhood. As much as I’d like to insist otherwise, the regularity of posts about my new role, and the exclusivity of the topic, are evidence no denial can refute. Occasionally I’ll insert a post about something else, but they rarely garner any comments, and the posts aren’t frequent enough to dilute the mommy flavor. Perhaps someday I’ll write more about other topics, but this is my life now. Claire is my life. There. I’ve confessed, I’ve admitted. I don’t know about you, but I feel better. And now:

hmm... "c" is for cat

Hmm… “C” is for Cat

First

Claire’s first tooth has completely broken through, though it has a way to go before it’s fully in. It’s fun to watch her tongue twist and run over it. She’s fascinated with this thing in her mouth.

This afternoon, Claire ate her first entire 4-ounce jar of peas & brown rice. I was impressed.

This afternoon she also managed to get her butt in the air (she was on her tummy) and almost get to her hands and knees. The problem is she hasn’t coordinated how to have both her head up and her butt up. Up goes the bottom, and then her forehead lowers to the floor. Claire is getting stronger each day. It’s perceptible, this solidness and agility.

This afternoon we all went out for a walk at Memorial Park in Cupertino. It’s pretty, with a man-made pond that’s well-landscaped and populated by ducks and geese. Then we took a drive through neighborhoods we’d like to someday live (we harbor a dim hope we could afford to buy a home someday). Lastly, we all went to Great Clips so I could get a trim. She was a hit with the hairdressers and customers. Claire is a curious, cheerful, and confident child. Being with her makes me happy.