Two Quotes On The Mind

He may be mad, but there’s method in his madness. There nearly always is method in madness. It’s what drives men mad, being methodical.

–GK Chesterton

Do you agree or disagree? Discuss. Be sure to show your work.

Why is it that our memory is good enough to retain the least triviality that happens to us, and yet not good enough to recollect how often we have told it to the same person?

–Francois de La Rochefoucauld

I seem to do this more frequently these days!

Art Every Day Month – Day 4

As I passed by a large concrete planter in downtown Santa Clara I happened to notice this. Risperdal is the brand name for Risperidone, a medication used to treat schizophrenia and for short-term use with bipolar disorder. I was well-acquainted with this drug for several years when I worked at a non-profit mental health center in Austin. I worked on the Assertive Community Treatment team, which assisted people who had multiple hospitalizations. Each of us had a caseload of ten people, and each client received intensive care: medication management; being taken to doctor’s appointments, the grocery store; in some cases I managed the income they received from Social Security Disability (paltry though it was) and helped them budget for rent, utilities, and so on. It was an intense job, and I burned out on it. I learned a great deal about myself in the process. It was humbling.

art everyday month 07 - day 4 - public mental health

Public Mental Health

It’s All Right To Cry

Bean is eight weeks old today. Amazing.

With the exception of an hour-and-a-half on Tuesday evening, there has been little crying around here. Well, let me clarify. Bean cries, but not inconsolably. Whatever we’ve done — the hypoallergenic formula or the Zantac — seems to be working; nature is helping too, in that Bean’s digestive system is maturing. In the last seven days her intake per meal has increased from an average of 2.75 ounces to 4 ounces. Her legs are getting chubbier. She doesn’t pull away from the nipple and cry, with one exception — when she’s working on the other end of her digestive track, it seems as though she gets to a point where she can’t continue eating and she’s mad about it. I can tell the difference in the cry.

In fact, the crying has transformed for me, or in me. I can now hear more what she’s communicating. I’m more confident in my ability to comfort or provide what she needs, and even if she just needs to cry, I’m able to simply be with her. She’s got quite a range. There’s the cry of Oh! The injustice and betrayal! that happens sometimes when she gets her medicine and we have “help” her swallow. (Tip: hold her cheeks together and blow lightly in her face. It causes a swallow reflex.) There’s the cry of I do not like this, change things now! when she’s put on her stomach for “tummy time.” She loathes that position. When she’s hungry, if we’re too stupid to realize it is hunger and we first check her diaper or offer a binky, her cry becomes angry: Feed me, you dolts! There’s the tired cry, which is whiny. She cries with inflection and nuance; when she’s upset and a binky is offered, she’ll suck mightily and moan in such a way that feels as though she’s saying, “This is just what I wanted, I’m so tired.” When she’s not crying, she also talks a lot: coos, eeps, squeaks, vowel sounds. I love having conversations with her. She looks at me now with recognition. The love-fest is mutual.

I imagine we’ll have rocky days, but I feel more settled and able to take them in stride.

Art Every Day Month – Day 2

Yes, I know I said I wouldn’t post photos of my daughter on the blog. I’ve broken that rule twice, but not for full-faced photos. However, I’m a proud mother who adores this little girl, and I can’t resist posting her flirty little smile. So this is my art for today. We play a game. Several weeks ago I began sticking out my tongue and talking to her that way, and she responded by sticking her tongue out too. I cheered this and smiled, and she smiled back, very pleased with herself. We spend many minutes at a time doing this, which gets her cooing and grinning. She almost laughed today. She is such a joyful little girl. How can I help but fall in love?

art everyday month 07 - day 2 - my biggest project ever

My Biggest Creation Ever

Aftershock

I just felt another quake. And a second before it happened I my skin “heard” it… a pre-vibration. Or something.

I do not like this! I know that’s the risk we take living here, and there’s risk everywhere. But…

Tuesday’s earthquake was the largest to hit the area since the Loma Prieta quake of 1989. One of the reasons I worry about this 5.6 temblor being a prelude rather than a stress reliever, is that I remember this: On August 8, 1989 we were awakened at 1:00 am to a 5.4 earthquake. It shook long enough for Roger and me to run downstairs and head out into the street. We had a dear friend staying with us. She was in one of the downstairs bedrooms, and she met us in the street. Because Loma Prieta happened two months later, this smaller quake seems to be all but forgotten. Perhaps it occurred on another fault. I’ll have to look that up.

—New Dharma Bums

Update: It was a 3.7.

Shaken, Not Stirred

I was in the kitchen getting a glass of water when the room began to shimmy, and the refrigerator actually wobbled, and it went on for much longer than I expected. The house rumbled and creaked. Dishes rattled in the cupboards. The only thing that fell was my Chapstick, which rolled off the bookcase.

The quake was 5.6. The strongest I’ve ever experienced. The epicenter was 12 miles away from us in Alum Rock. I’ve hiked there.

Did not like! I filed a report with the USGS. On the Modified Mercalli Intensity Scale, it calculated my rating as a V (Moderate).

This reminded me that we need to get more water for our at-home and go-bag emergency kits, now that we have Pixie.

Halloween Tip

Don’t use a carving knife to carve a pumpkin into a Jack-o’-lantern.

And pay attention to what you’re doing when you do cut into it.

Learn about where the term Jack-o’-lantern originated.

(And no, my thumb did not need stitches. I bled like the proverbial stuck pig, however, and having a half-inch cut on one’s thumb-tip does not help with mothering tasks. I’ve been forbidden to carve any more pumpkins until Pixie is old enough to appreciate it. It probably goes without saying that there isn’t one this year. I didn’t even get the top cut off before I slipped.)

Melted

I just went down to say goodnight (and listen to Husband tell me some good news about his job), and when Bean saw me (she’d just finished a good meal), she was all grins and joy. Her eyes lit up, and she cooed at me. I kissed her belly. All my frustrations from today, any resentment, any guilt, it all faded. She’s so cute. My little Bean…

And now, as I write this, I hear her wailing. *sigh* I wonder where she gets all that fire from?

Pastimes

We don’t watch television anymore, at least not together. So right now I’m catching up on recorded episodes of Chuck. I also plan to catch up on Dirty Sexy Money eventually. However, I will probably pass on old episodes of Reaper. It’s kind of a replicate of Chuck (slacker guy with best buddy work in retail and have whacky adventures), but I think Chuck (the main character) is much hotter and more adorable. When I go to bed (in half an hour), Husband will have his much-needed quiet time (if our little girl will oblige him by staying asleep) and watch them too.

This evening I escaped for a few minutes to Barnes and Noble, where I indulged myself with the following:

What Mothers Do: Especially When It Looks Like Nothing (since I spend hours sitting in the rocking chair holding her, I need something to read)

Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind (recommended by Karen)

Walt Disney Records : Children’s Favorite Songs, Vol. 1: 25 Classic Tunes (because the only tune I can remember of late is Frére Jacques; I make up words as I sing to her, narrating our activities)

Bean’s colic is still… colicky. Husband came home and took over with Screaming Mimi. She’s so exhausted. As are we.

At This Moment

I’m sitting in the living room on my green sofa. To my left, Stella is curled sleeping on a Winnie-the-Pooh blanket. To my right, Bean is tucked into her swing, sleeping. Both are snoring. How precious is that?

Last night I mentioned something I’d written here, and Husband said, “I thought you weren’t going to turn your blog into a Mommy blog?” I protested I hadn’t, and he asked, “What’s the last thing you posted that wasn’t about Bean?” I hesitated a few seconds and he said that his point was proven. Then I remembered I’d posted a Storypeople quote, but he teased me about how long it took to remember.

So in the interest of diversification for you readers and for me (I can sing more than one tune!), I’ll be making an effort to blog about other stuff. I promise.

How Quickly

How quickly babies change!

At four weeks of age she looked like this.

At seven weeks of age she looks like this!

Her face is much fuller. Bean often has her head tilted to the left (her left), even when sleeping semi-reclined. She prefers her right hand, so we suspect she’s left-brain dominant. We joke that the left side of her head is heavier than the right.

(More photos are up at Flickr, obviously.)

Learning To Live In the Moment

Yesterday I wrestled with ambivalence about what I’ve wrought by having a child.

There are no vacations from this. Every day will be about getting this child fed, clothed, bathed, keeping her occupied. Her needs always first. No matter what, I feel a tension. I’m aware that I’m always on call, not knowing the next time Pixie will need something, so it feels as though I can’t start anything or delve very deeply into anything, because I may have to drop it. I’m struggling with accepting that. My mother said she remembers this feeling, but she was much younger and with no years of living according to her own plans and desires, so it may have been easier to embrace.

The odd thing is, before she was born I wasn’t doing a whole lot; I was on my computer for hours, read books, etc. But I had complete freedom to do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, and I only had to consider myself. This is no longer true. Even if someone comes to babysit, there’s a time when I’m expected to return, and I’m aware I need to return.

This tension is taking a toll physically too. In the mornings my feet hit the floor running. Once Husband comes to bed after finishing his “shift,” I awaken, knowing that sometime in the next hour or so she’ll cry and it will be my turn to start the day. So I lose precious sleep. Then, once I’m up, the tension moves to my intestinal track, specifically the lower, which makes be wonder if I’m developing irritable bowel syndrome.

What aggravates is that I do not let myself immerse in any activity of my choosing, because some part of me is always aware of her. Why start something if I will have to leave it?

What I need to do is find a way to fully attend to whatever I’m doing in the moment, and to find a way to quickly engage and disengage from anything I’m doing for myself. Otherwise my life is spent as a lady-in-waiting. At this point I’m only able to let go if Husband is on duty. Last night he urged me to soak in the tub, which I did for an hour. I had to continually return my mind, my attention, to experience the scented water. Now, I’m not saying I should be able to take a long soak when I alone am in charge, but even reading is something I’ve sacrificed. I don’t pick up a book to read anymore. I can’t settle into it. Even magazines don’t get read. I skim a lot on the web, but that gets boring after while. And even on the web I find myself reading stupid shit, gossip websites, rather than some of the good stuff that’s out there.

Perhaps the approach I need to aim for is what Zen means.

Dare I Say It? Also, Camera Advice Sought!

Bean is seven weeks old today. Wow. It feels as though it’s been a year.

Today is the end of my first work-week as Mom-In-Charge, and it’s gone much better than I expected. Part of this is because a friend has come over every day to hang out with Pixie and give me a chance to run errands. The other part is that I think the change in formula is working. I hope the Zantac is too, but that takes longer, and we just started it Wednesday night. But all week, Bean has had days of eating, sleeping, a little play time, and just a little fussing. No hours-long arias of woe. (Well, Monday and Tuesday evening she cried for an hour, but that’s far different from three or more!)

I’ve taken to tracking her waking and sleeping times, with notes on what she was doing during the wake time — feeding, playing, crying, other (i.e., outing, bath). Over the past nine days she averages about 14.5 hours of sleep daily, with her worst day being 10.5 hours –the day of most misery as we dealt with the consequences of Nestle Good Start — and her longest sleep being 18 — her first day on Alimentum. I’ve really been attentive to her cues, but even when she’s not been much stimulated and she’s obviously sleepy, she fights it sometimes. She drowses, but doesn’t completely let go.

Oh, but she’s so much more social! We play a game where I stick out my tongue, wiggle it, and make funny noises, and she turns her head to the side while looking at me and smiles hugely. It’s very coy and adorable. She then mimics me by sticking out her tongue. I praise this, which makes her grin hugely. She’s also become more expressive, vocalizing different coos and aahs. I echo them, and she kicks her legs in delight. When she’s crying, there are times it really sounds as though she’s trying to say something — the “yah yah yah” or “owowow” mean something. I’m just not always sure what. She’s also discovered she can put her fingers in her mouth and that they’re fun and handy (pun! ha!) to chew on.

And I need advice. My digital camera just isn’t fast enough to capture an active baby. There’s a pause between the time I press the button and the shutter click. Husband and I are thinking of investing in a new camera. What would you recommend as a good investment? My current camera is a Nikon Coolpix E2100 (2 megapixel, 3X optical zoom, 4X digital zoom). We originally bought it for about $200. I’m not sure how high we’re willing to go; let’s say nothing over $600. So tell me what you use!

One Step Forward

So we went to the doctor today, and she agreed that the colic symptoms could also be infant reflux. She prescribed Zantac (generic form) and said if it is reflux, it may take 7-10 days to see results. We administered the first dose tonight (twice a day, we squirt .8 milliliters of grape-flavored medicine in her mouth). Oooo, she did not want!! She made the oddest face, a puzzled, startled expression, and then cried out her protest. I’m getting better at soothing her. Or maybe she’s responding to me more. Or maybe both.

Bean had gained nine ounces from her visit two weeks ago and weighed in at an even nine pounds. The doctor was pleased and said she looks beautiful. She also said that an average of 18 ounces a day of formula is great, and not to focus on the Similac and other brochures that predict what an average infant should eat. (For her age, according to Similac, she should be consuming 4-5 ounces at a time, eating 5-6 times a day, for a total daily intake of 20-30 ounces. Not our Bean!)

The doctor was also generous in handing out samples of Alimentum, the hypoallergenic formula we use. At $28 for a 16-ounce can of powder (which lasts us about 3-4 days), every bit helps. If the Zantac works, maybe we can return to the regular formula later.

I feel reassured and better, though Bean continues to dawdle at the bottle, gum the nipple, and pull away crying. But she did it less today. And she also had a really good day again, eating and sleeping and not crying inconsolably (fussy starting around 7 p.m., but it’s a vast improvement).