Replenishment

Bean woke at 5:40 a.m. this morning, which is unusually early; for the past few months she shifted her wake time to 6-6:30, and sometimes as late as 7:00. I left her be until 6:10. When I went into her bedroom and leaned over the crib, she said, “I could eat an elephant!” (This is what a hungry lion says in one of her current favorite books, The Saggy Baggy Elephant.) As I carried her downstairs, she also told me how Stella (our cat) was mad and angry and kept repeating she could eat an elephant. I suspect that she was telling me she was mad at not being retrieved right when she woke up, because she was hungry.

Then she requested peanut butter toast and ate only four bites. Perplexing child! (Later she ate two yogurts in one sitting.)

One of Bean’s aunts sent a bunch of books I remember well from childhood, and Bean now enjoys them routinely: There’s a Wocket in My Pocket!; Go, Dog. Go! (a tedious book); A Fly Went By; Are You My Mother? (another tedious book to me, but not to her). She also passionately enjoys Richard Scarry’s Best Word Book Ever; Busy, Busy Town; and Cars and Trucks and Things That Go (especially Goldbug). These are her most requested books of late.

And quite recently, out of the blue, Bean has started singing songs, some of which she has not heard for many months (from former Music Together classes). She gets the lyrics correct some of the time, but it doesn’t really matter; she likes to sing little ditties to herself that she makes up too. I marvel at how her brain is blooming.
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On another, less marvelous note, however, is the fact that sometimes I feel the hours of each day weigh on me, and I’m feeling again as though I haven’t got a “me.” Bean is a busy, interactive child. I often find that when I put her down for a nap, I need one too. And by the time she goes to bed at 8:00 p.m., I’m so spent I’ve no energy to write (even email) or do anything recreational; I’m even too tired to go out by myself to get groceries. I’m in bed by 9:30, usually asleep. In addition to this is the fact that my social interaction with other mothers has been cut due to changes in my and my friends’ activities and schedules, so the days feel long. If I deprive myself of the nap, my ass drags through the afternoon, and I usually end up drinking a couple servings of coffee just to stay conscious. It is not an enjoyable way to pass time. Yet this is what I am doing today, because I really need to write and reflect.

What this means, for me, is that I often find myself thinking about the next thing when I’m with Bean. I’m thinking about her next snack, or how many minutes until 8 a.m. when I can get Husband up so I can have my hour to exercise and shower. I’m thinking about how to get through the afternoon until he comes home at 6:30ish. I find myself not enjoying yet another game of “I’m gonna get you!” or the 20th reading of the same story. I feel spent. And I feel sad about this, because Bean is comprehending and communicating ever more, and becoming such an interesting little person. But lately I feel I’m putting in time.

What’s interesting about this is that she is no more demanding, really, than she was a year ago. She could do far less for herself a year ago, and I was physically more constrained by this. She wants to interact more, but in reality her communication skills are so developed that we rarely have skirmishes due to misunderstandings. Her will is getting stronger. She dawdles more, defies requests more frequently. I have to be creative in my responses, pick my battles, decide when to wait and when I’ve had enough and just want to get the task done. Once upon a time I just picked her up and went. Perhaps this is where my exhaustion arises?

I wish I was more energized. I wish I appreciated her more in this time period. I’m unsettled by my internal responses.

But really, I think she’s amazing (she’ll be 20 months old next week). Here’s proof — if the embedded video doesn’t work, click here. (And now it’s time for my nap.)

Already Over

Today was my last day of physical therapy. I felt a little wistful, because I’ve gone twice a week for six weeks, and you get to know the therapists and aides a bit. I would highly recommend Santa Clara Sports Therapy to anyone; they are professional and friendly, and the atmosphere is not at all intimidating. I’m going to miss Ray, the therapist who worked on my knee the most. He was always upbeat and helpful, and his massages were thorough. My knee still has some swelling and occasional pain, but I’m fairly mobile and my legs are much stronger.
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There was a confirmed case of swine flu in a local high school. Branham high school was closed for a week; the infected student had recently traveled to southern California. There are three other probable cases of swine flu in Santa Clara county as well. While Husband and I don’t want to overreact, we decided to cancel our outing to the SF Zoo on Sunday. We figured it’s unwise to be exposed to hundreds of people and the surfaces they touch, and caution doesn’t cost us anything. The zoo isn’t going anywhere.

Smile!

Once Bean stopped using a bottle for milk, we switched from putting her liquid multivitamin (Poly-Vi-Sol) in her bottle to giving her the dose directly. We’d do it just before bed and brush her teeth after. It’s a dark brown vitamin that I think tastes vile (the iron especially), but she didn’t object.

Sometime around late February I noticed her teeth looked a little grayish around the edges. By her doctor visit March 10, they were definitely gray. The doctor referred us to a pediatric dentist. We felt terrible. Had we “broken” her in some way? Was this permanent?

I researched possible causes. Was it too much fluoride? No. Our zip code area in Santa Clara doesn’t have fluoridated water, and the dose of fluoride drops we give her is correct for her age and weight. Was it lack of calcium? We ruled that out, because even though she still refuses milk (and cottage cheese, cream cheese, regular cheese), she eats a little yogurt and gets a Viactiv supplement daily (her Chewie). So she receives much-needed calcium and vitamin D daily. Was it too much iron? Her vitamin contains iron, and I had my suspicions.

My suspicions were correct. The iron in the vitamin stained her teeth gray. Bean and I went to the dentist last Thursday, where I lay on the chair with Bean lying on top of me (on her back) while the dentist and assistant polished her teeth back to their pearly white state. Bean was a champ. She cried lustily in protest, but she did not fight, and we were done quickly. For her bravery she got a cool little plastic toy phone that she loves to use.

The dentist said her teeth were in fine condition otherwise, and we’ll go back in six months for a check-up. And we switched from the liquid vitamin to a one-third dose of a Flintstone Complete (which is fruit-flavored and thus eagerly consumed).

Readiness

The other day, Bean took one of her stuffed animals and put it on the potty. When it was “done potty,” I gave her toilet paper and she wiped its bottom. She also takes toilet paper when I use the bathroom and says, “I wiping my bobbum,” and tries to wipe herself (clothed of course). I haven’t attempted to get her on the potty with a bare bottom; she’ll sit on it a few seconds while clothed. I’m not in any rush. It’s just really interesting to see her awareness and interest develop.

However, after a diaper change like the one I just did, I wouldn’t mind if her reasoning were more developed. She fought this one because she wanted to walk around more. She was poopy, and I wanted to change it. She began to fight by rolling over, so I picked her up again and said I knew she wanted to walk, and she could after the diaper change. I asked her to help Mommy. But she’d have none of that (though sometimes this request actually works). So the entire time she screamed, kicked, and tried to roll over. Kicking is a big No-No, so once I got her changed I gave her a time-out.

Time-out consists of sitting her in a chair and, because of her age, holding her there for about 60-90 seconds while she screams and cries and desperately asks for a hug, to get off the chair, to read a book, anything but what’s happening. Then through her sobs she starts to say, “Calm down,” and I say, “That’s right, caaaaalm. Calm. Calm down.” Once she is calmer, I state the misbehavior and reinforce the message of what is appropriate. So in this case, I told her kicking at people is bad, that I was sad she kicked at me, and that we do not kick people. Then I gathered her into a hug (after a storm and time-out she always clings to me as though she wants to meld with me) and asked her to say she was sorry, and she said, “Sorry.” I said, “Are you sorry for kicking at Mommy?” She replied, “Sorry kicking.” I said that the diaper change will go faster if she helps Mommy next time.

By this time Husband came down (he’d been asleep and the tantrum woke him), and she asked him for a hug after I explained what had occurred. Then he gave me a break, and here I am writing this post.

At this age, I don’t expect perfect retention of the lesson. It will take time and repeated reinforcement of the message, but she is starting to understand.

Can’t Get Enough

I can’t get enough of Susan Boyle’s voice. I read a commentary about what about her compels so many people.

Who among us does not move through life with the hidden sense, maybe even quiet desperation, that we are destined for more? That underneath our ordinary exterior lays an extraordinary soul? That given the right opportunity, the right stage, the right audience, we would shine as the stars we truly are?

That promise underlies most successful advertising campaigns: the desire to transform from caterpillar to butterfly. Maybe if you buy that (fill in the blank), people will see you for the sophisticated, cool, gorgeous, talented, lovable person you know you really are.

But in our less desperate moments, we know we can’t purchase that transformation. Although Susan Boyle became an overnight sensation, hers was not an overnight transformation. She’s been practicing singing since she was 12. In her case, overnight was 35 years.

It’s easy to admire Susan. But it’s far more interesting to be transformed by her. “There is grace,” a friend recently wrote to me, “in being molded by your own gifts.”

To allow yourself to be molded by your own gifts takes courage. You have to be willing to stand there, exposed and authentic, while the audience rolls their eyes at you and sneers, expecting failure. And then, of course, you have to fail, laugh or cry, and keep going until, one day, they stop laughing and start clapping.

–Peter Bregman, CNN

And Bean can’t get enough of the music. She requests music to be played at every meal. She wants to dance to it several times during the day. If music of any kind is on, she will begin to rock on her feet; she’s also incorporating arm movements now. She has begun to use rhythm and tonal patterns; the CDs have these little chants and rhymes, and she now does them. She is remembering lyrics to these songs and repeating them, and also starting to sing notes. She sings ABCs almost completely now. Her memory astounds me, as does her capacity to absorb new information. She is almost desperately interested in violins, guitars, keyboards, and drums. One of her favorite Little Golden books is Animal Orchestra. In Animal Town, it was musical day. The orchestra had gathered to play. She enthusiastically attends her Music Together class; most of the time she stands and rocks to the rhythm of the songs, absorbing the activities and sounds with wide eyes.

I’ve no idea “where” all this immersion will take her. My only goal now is to share the joy of music with her. It’s pretty clear she is drawn to it from deep within herself.

Do The Right Thing

It’s Earth Day. One of our kitchen fluorescent tube lights burned out and we have to dispose of it. After some Googling, I found this information for California:

A fluorescent light tube in your dumpster is a violation of the hazardous waste laws. Violation of these laws can result in large fines and criminal prosecution.

Fluorescent tubes contain mercury and become hazardous wastes when they no longer work. Mercury poses especially serious hazards to pregnant women and small children. Non-working tubes must be recycled by an authorized recycling firm and cannot be discarded in the trash.

Fluorescent tubes and bulbs may be managed as universal wastes under Title 22, Chapter 23 of the California Code of Regulations. This allows those who wish to discard their fluorescent tubes and lamps to do so more easily than if they were managed as hazardous wastes.

Although spent fluorescent lights can not go into the trash, there are several options for getting them to an environmentally safe and responsible recycler.

For residential disposal, you can do the following:

Find a partner in the Take-It-Back Program and drop it off (such as Orchard Supply Hardware).

Find the local Household Hazardous Waste Facility to take fluorescent tubes
and bulbs along with other universal wastes — search Earth911 or the Department of Toxic Substances Control.

This and more information for California is in this PDF.

Ah, Insomnia

Today was the first really warm day of the year: 95 degrees. And I, as usual, can’t sleep because it is still warm inside and out.

We went to see a house yesterday and today. The yesterday house we liked well enough, more for its location than perhaps the interior, but the price is higher than we feel comfortable going. The house we saw today was, well, just another frakking house. It was well-priced, but there were several problems with it, and it just didn’t stand out to us. Husband and I agreed that it is time to take a break — for me, not for him. We have spent every single Saturday and Sunday since the first weekend in January looking at houses. We have done nothing else, because after working around Bean’s nap and the open house schedules (1-4 p.m.), there is usually little time for any family trips elsewhere. We do get to a park after each foray, which we all enjoy.

But I’m weary. I’m rather depressed at the prices and the quality of the houses we see for those prices. I have not had any “me time” on the weekends for several months. The only weekend we took off from looking was the weekend immediately after my surgery. Husband used to take Bean on long walks in the neighborhood that afforded me time to clean, do laundry, etc. or just be home alone.

So I don’t know how long our break will be. The good thing all this research has done is that it has helped us clarify exactly what kind of house we would like to buy (e.g., square footage, small yard, recent build, etc.). It’s just that we haven’t found it yet. Next weekend, however, we will go on an outing to a zoo or museum — something fun.

And I’m working on cleaning out my closets of old clothes and stuff that feels extraneous. I’m not touching art supplies or yarn. I just need to streamline a little or I’ll go mad.

Here’s hoping sleep comes soon. I really need it.

The Latest

I haven’t made much effort to write here. Haven’t had much energy when I’ve been granted a little time. I have, however, lost 9 pounds since my surgery last month and am getting stronger every day. The past week Bean has battled a cold and a reaction to vaccinations, so we’ve been lying low. She had her 18-month doctor visit on the 10th (one month late) and weighed in at 21 pounds, 3 ounces and measured 31 inches tall. A friend calls her a Holly Hobbie child. She is petite, but oh so energetic and talkative!

I’m also thinking about the future of writing on this blog, particularly about Bean. There will come an age where details about her may be later perceived by her as an intrusion on her privacy. So I am considering other ways to keep people apprised, such as an email newsletter to people I really consider friends and family (certain readers here among them). However, since I’m still in the pondering stage, let me share more about Bean:

  • She has lately become obsessed about smelling flowers. She wants to sniff them wherever we go — real and fake ones, in the grocery store, in parks, on walks, in the yards of houses we visit with the realtor. The other day she sniffed a daffodil that apparently had no scent and said, “Nothing happened!” after. I’m not sure if she understands that not all flowers smell, because she always says “Ahhh!” after sniffing.
  • Bean is likewise obsessed with belly buttons. She commands me to “draw a belly button” on anything I draw in her sketch book: flowers, people, butterflies, you name it and she wants a belly button on it.
  • She likes to point to butterflies and say, “Butterflies flutter by!”
  • Lately Bean has demonstrated consoling behavior to her stuffed animals. Her current favorite lovey, Brown Doggie, goes many places with her. Sometimes she hugs him and says, “It’s okay.” She also asks if someone coughs “You okay?” This is because sometimes if she swallows wrong and gags and coughs a bit, I am alert (watching out for choking) and ask her if she’s okay.
  • The other day as she was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, she announced, “I’m busy!” with a big smile.
  • As I wrote a check to the babysitter, she wanted to grab the pen. I said no, that I was writing a check with it. A little later as I cooked, she sat on the kitchen floor with crayons and a blank book, scribbling. Then she said to no one in particular, “I’m writing a check.”
  • Yesterday for lunch she asked for cute cumbers.

Lastly, I have two tattoos, one of which is a highly stylized “Om” symbol (pictured below). Bean loves to look at them both (the other is a Celtic knot). Last week as she pondered the Om, she said that it was a man riding a bicycle. What an imagination this child has!

om tattoo

A-twinkle

The cuteness continues, and so does the assimilation of knowledge. Bean now sings “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” and has recently begun to sing Old MacDonald. She also counts to 10 but for some reason skips the number four. She sings ABCs but skips the middle part and after E heads straight to Q. She’s got her colors down pat, and most of the shapes (ovals and circles and pentagons still confound her).

The other day as I rocked her before nap, she said, “Mommy loves Bean.” What a thrill it gave me to hear this. She knows she is loved.

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I feel fantastic. We purchased a recumbent stationary bike that I have used since its arrival. My legs feel stronger every day. I feel like a new woman. I have found that two 20-minute sets on the bike is manageable in terms of finding the time as well as the motivation. I still have physical therapy the rest of this month. I’ve also lost a couple of pounds, and I hope to see the numbers on the scale gradually get smaller and smaller.

Oy. I baked eight mini-loaves of Yummo Bread (pumpkin bread) today as Bean is plowing through the stuff. Right now I’ve got sweet potatoes baking for the next batch. I have laundry to fold, clothing to wash, and a shower to take before crashing. Oh, as for National Poetry Month and my intention of writing daily, well… never mind.

It’s April already?!

Where I Worship

Karen has an interesting post about the altars at which she does not worship and provides a photo of the one that is central in her life. It got me thinking. Years ago I created an altar with items of personal significance. (On the right sits a fertility goddess that I made November 2006, a few weeks before I conceived Bean.) I used to light a candle and incense at this altar. Since moving to our most recent residence, it sits unused on top of a bookcase at the top of a staircase. It never gets used. And since Bean’s arrival, it wears a shawl of dust. Here is a photo of it (Husband’s face has been blurred out to respect his privacy):

altar

After reading Karen’s post, I was inspired to share my real altar.

my real altar

I pray at this altar, where I learn to be patient and humble and compassionate, where I have the privilege of caring for the best gift Life has entrusted to me.

Still Trying To Wrap My Brain Around This

Apparently it’s all doom an gloom still in the housing market. We’re still looking to see what’s out there that we can possibly afford without risking our necks and also feel comfortable living in. Please note in the quote below what is considered the “low end” of home values here. We’re talking about houses, condos, and town homes that are 1,200 to 1,900 square feet.

“Sales are up dramatically,” said Jim Klinge, an agent in San Diego. “There’s a group of buyers that need housing more than they need to pay attention to the doom and gloom headlines we see every single day.”

Many of his buyers are young people who are backed financially by their parents. Mr. Klinge noted that all the sales were on the low end, which in San Diego means less than $500,000.

—Record Drop in January Index of Home Prices

We went looking at new construction last weekend. I have to admit there’s a huge appeal to shiny new homes. Especially at these prices. If you’re going to spend that kind of dough, getting something fresh and new makes sense. These homes aren’t complete, so when you purchase you can choose what counters, paint colors, floors, etc. you want. So, shiny and new is attractive, unless you want a postage stamp yard (i.e., a detached single family home). If you want actual land with your house, you get much less interior space or house that needs some work.

One of the realities I am struggling to accept (I have actively resisted) is that we live in an urban area. I cannot recreate the neighborhood in which I grew up. We will never own a house with the size yard that I enjoyed. I cannot do this because it’s just so dense and intense here. Bean is having her childhood, not mine. It’s a fact of our lives that we live an urban existence. I need to find what is good about that for her sake and mine.

Drama We Don’t Like

A couple months ago, two blocks from here where I walk with Bean, a man brandishing a gun wandered the streets and was shot by police when he refused to drop the weapon. I think he survived. I haven’t heard anything about it since, but it’s disconcerting. We could have been taking a walk in that area at the moment.

Last night six people died in a family murder-suicide in an area of Santa Clara where friends live, and where we have looked at housing. Of course, these tragedies happen all over, even in rural areas.

We just had an earthquake here at 10:40 a.m. Not huge, but a reminder of a restless earth.

Busy Weekend, Then Back to Work

Tomorrow my “vacation” ends, and Husband’s vacation begins — both of us will be going back to work. His vacation is from me and from full-time waiting on two demanding females. 😉 My break was the two weeks of healing from surgery, and I’m mostly mobile. We’ll see how I fare tomorrow!

Yesterday we went to an open house in an area of San Jose we rather like, and then we drove up to Hayward to purchase a used Schwinn recumbent stationary bike for me. When we got home we realized it’s a few inches too long for the space we thought it would fit, so we had a long discussion about our stuff and how much house we need in the future. We also talked about how much house we can afford and looked hard at the numbers in several scenarios. We came away with a better sense of our priorities.

Today we toured seven different model homes in Fremont and Morgan Hill. All of them were vertical (three townhomes and four houses), and my knee communicated its displeasure at the end of the day. However, we saw some things that have potential. Then around 6:30 we met some friends at Choi’s Korean restaurant. The girls had fun eating the glass noodles and other food, and it was good to get out with friends. We’re all tired out. Bean is just going to bed now, and we hope dearly that she will sleep long and well. We rarely miss bedtime (8 p.m.), but now and then a special occasion is okay. She is a really patient and cooperative child while we wander through homes every weekend.