Life is a Banquet

Two Month Videos

These are really funny. Or at least, Clanna will think so.

Download november_29_tavy_106.mov

Download november_29_tavy_105.mov

Comeupance

My dress, it eats me
Originally uploaded by wavybrains.

(All those demanding pictures, click the flickr picture. Am I one of your flickr friends? Add me because the cute is easier to upload than the witty)

Comeupance: To have one's parenting righteousness thrown in one's face by a universe ruled by Baby's Laws of Necessity.

Example One: Person A (And of course, I would *never* be Person A. I'm far too humble) returns home from her doctors' appointment to find a baby dressed in one of her "special outfit" tops and no bottoms. Person A lectures Person B about bare legs and how special outfits are not for everyday. Person A is too indignant to crack a smile at Person B's retort, "Why can't TODAY be special?" Person A even gets her panties twisted tight enough to march Person B in and show him the basket brimming with clean footed sleepers (quite an athletic feat, let me tell you).

Comeupance: Person A is upstairs with a naked baby, copious bodily fluids, a buzzing oven timer, and the only outfit in reach: special grandma-sent dress. Guess what baby wore to dinner?

I guess it *was* a special day after all.

Two Months: Fat & Sassy

Dear Tavy,

Two lines. Two weeks overdue. Two months. When I was pregnant, I tried really hard not to have expectations about what your personality or development might be like. We played a nifty little game of pairing relatives up and figuring how we'd parent them ("What about Uncle Ernie crossed with Grandpa Ted with a whiff of Aunt Suzy? Hoo Boy!!"). Never did I dare hope for something as wonderful as YOU! Your personality comes through more and more each day.

Your smile transforms 3 a.m. into Party Central. Last month, you handed out smiles like they were being deducted from your allowance, but this month you give them to everyone like a bumper crop of zucchini that just keeps coming. Daddy and I LIVE for the big gummy grins you bestow on us, and I often feel sad when he's not here to see you in a particularly good mood.

In fact, I want to show you off to the world. One of my favorite moments this month was taking you to my RWA meeting. You looked so cute in your blue dress & pant set, and you were happy to be held and walked around the meeting. I was so proud to have MY baby join me for something so important to me.  Trick or treating our neighborhood was also fun and you rode like a queen from house to house on Daddy's arm. When I'm walking around a store with you (which we've done a lot more of this month), I feel like I'm leading a parade and like everyone must be able to tell that I'm carting around the best baby in the universe. Of course, they might have to squint to see this, especially when I dare to stop and look at things. You and daddy seem to have a pact that you fuss as soon as I move to look at a price tag or add something to the cart.

Keep moving, keep moving, you yell. Last month, I had a hard time getting you into a baby carrier. This month, it's how I calm you down. You and the dog both perk up as soon as the sling or wrap is tied on and the sneakers are on. We walk almost everyday, and you merrily direct traffic with your long fingers until you fall asleep about a block from home. I usually stuff you in a holder to make dinner, but you have little patience for cooking--too much standing around. Straightening a room is more fun, and vacuuming is a veritable amusement park ride.

Too bad Mama's still so tired or else the house would be spic and span. Oh, that and you have the attention span of a kitten--all enthusiasm and no follow-through. "Yay, we're moving, we're moving, OH NO! I'm wet! Stop! Stop! Hey? What were we doing again?" The first part of this month, you appeared to need no sleep, and we had some pretty rough days. But, knock on wood, the last few weeks have been easier. We eat dinner, passing Ms. Pants, first name Fussy, back and forth between us, then we put on a DVD, and you nurse, and you usually fall asleep while nursing. About half the time you wake up after an hour or two to play and nurse again, then have your long stretch of sleep for 4-6 hours. I can usually count on at least one 3 hour block which is a blessing. Then you wake up to nurse, and I have to try hard to convince you that it's not PARTY TIME.

But, it's hard when you're so darn cute. You get excited and want to start "talking" to me with long animated vowel sounds. "Aoooh! Eh! Iiiiiiiiiii! UuuuuuuAaaah!" Your face scrunches up as you concentrate to draw out each sound and to try to imitate us. You love to lay on your back, and I can tell that returning to sleep is a pipe dream when you start kicking and talking during a late-night diaper change.

You still love laying on the changing table, but you've added the crib to your playtime repertoire.The first time this happened, I called Clanna and said, "I don't know what's wrong! She just wants to lay on her back and look at her elephant!" Clanna assured me that this was normal, but I had a hard time believing that you could prefer laying down to being in my arms 24-7. But you do! The sling comforts you some, but other times you prefer your bouncy chair, your swing, your aquarium, elephant, and bright objects to look at.

Tummy time is more fun now because you can hold your head up for long periods of time and look around and play on your belly. You still get very frustrated that you can't crawl though! You want to MOVE!You flap those arms and legs so much, I think you might take off! We can't leave you alone on the changing table or the couch or beds now--you are so close to rolling and all that flapping makes you a definite flight risk.

Luckily, you still slow down enough to nurse. I'm so glad that I hung in there for the first 6 weeks or so, because this second month has brought so many rewards. Watching your double chins appear, finally nursing you outside the house, feeling your little hands on me, seeing you drift off to sleep, and most importantly, watching you latch on confidently. "Poor latch? Inefficient suck?"  you thumb your nose at those Lactation consultants now.  "Eat my Buddha belly, wenches!"

You quiet down as soon as you see the cafeteria coming, and that brings me to my favorite part of month 2: you know me!!!! Yes, really! The first month I was pretty sure that I could be swapped with the local dairy maid and you wouldn't miss a beat (and heck, she might be nicer!). But, now, you know me! You really know me. At the RWA meeting, people kept mentioning how your eyes followed me everywhere and I couldn't stop grinning. When daddy holds you, you watch me carefully. When I smile, you smile too.

And that's been the defining part of month two: the smiles. You have brought smiles to so many faces, and I feel so proud of you. You are a fat, sassy little ambassador of cute, and I'm proud to be your embassy.

Love,

Mama

Thanks for . . .

Family, friends, good health, yada yada, and of course all of YOU, but let's talk about what's keeping me sane right now. Also, if you are gift shopping for new parents this coming weekend, take notes:

• The miracle blanket. I was sure we'd be shipping it right back, but I was willing to give anything a try. Lo and behold, 7 hours on the second night. If there ever is a second child, I'm taking three of these to the hospital. It would have made early nursing much easier.
• My Brest Friend pillow. This thing really needs a better title, but I did almost 3 weeks without it and have no idea how. I wish I could be one of those hands-free-nurse-anywhere mamas but at least I can be comfy and pain free
• Our haloscan thermometer. This was an impluse purchase at 41 weeks pregnant and we use it several times each day. Yes, we're paranoid, but this makes being paranoid easy and fun.
• Crunchy Cornbran and Puffins--without dry wheat-free cereal I probably wouldn't see food till noon.
• Kirkland and Target diapers. My failure as a cloth diaperer deserves its own post, and I'll try to give it one, but at least we're not having to sell plasma to pay for diapers. Yet.
• Janet Evanovich. It's hard to get into my usual sexy reads when breast feeding, but light and funny  at 3 a.m. is a very good thing.
• Fisher Price Soothing Motions Swing. Tavy has now spent a couple of nights in her crib (which is pressed up flush with our bed), but most nights and naps are spent in the swing still. I don't think we would have gotten any sleep without the swing the first few weeks.
• Moby wrap and pouch slings. Our doula made us an awesome pouch sling that paved the way to Tavy loving to be worn. The moby is our sling of choice for walks and makes it possible for us to leave the house with the car seat-hater. I just tie the wrap on before we go, and pop her in it once we arrive. Ta-da! No purple baby making an entrance!
• Oxi-clean. I'm notoriously hard on my own clothes and have never been one for stain management. But, I bought some of this, and I'm keeping the baby clothes nice and cute.
• Fast food salads. I can tell you with some authority that Wendy's has the best ready-to-go, but Subway's make you feel like you're an active participant in the dinner-making process.
• Footed Sleepers--especially the zipper ones. They really should label baby socks "single use" because heck if I can find them after the first use and they are usually MIA within 5 minutes of being squeezed onto the little piggies.
• Sanyo Katana--I miss my mother more each day, but at least with the picture phone I can send her a new picture (or three) every single day. I love sending her a picture of what we are doing that exact moment.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!! May you all have time to count your blessings, material and otherwise :)

Tavy Videos

These are mainly up for the grandmas, but should you need an extra dose of cute, please feel free to indulge.

Tavy Wakes Up Download november_tavy_128.mov

Tavy tummy time Download PICT0051.MOV

New Mama Recipes

Praise be, I have finally found food that Freak won't touch. Seeing as how Tavy seems to be sensitive to my three favorite foods (Chocolate, Broccoli, Sugar-Free Ice Cream), this is a very good thing. I've invented two amazingly good recipes that appear to be husband proof. In celebration of this remarkable event, I feel the need to share them (keep reading, ye who hate to cook--what follows is more commentary than recipe). I promise Freak's aversion to them is not proof of their edibleness at all, but rather shows that the man does have a few preferences after all.

Enjoy, and please share your own no-recipe recipes for easy eating!

Eat Your Veggies Soup

Preheat Oven to 400 degrees. Or forget preheating, just do it later and tack a few minutes on the cook time. Mommy brain welcome here. Heck, you could forget to turn it on for a few hours and still come out okay.

Now, place baby in your baby wearing device of choice. If baby is napping, abandon course!!! Go directly to bed. Sleep is more important than vegetables, My friend. Once baby is secure, then take your largest cookie sheet. Jiggle. Bounce. Pat baby. Pour a good healthy glug of olive oil on sheet. Bounce. Jiggle. Remove all produce from fridge. Hopefully you have at least one onion. Beyond that, look for the root vegetables--they are least likely to be rotting. You'll want a sheet full of veggie pieces. Maybe six cups? You won't be measuring (the cup is most likely bouncing in the sink along with 3/4 of the dishes in the house). More veggies = more soup. Potatoes, red peppers, carrots, squash are all good. (Tonight's version: 2 red peppers, 1 orange pepper, 1 yellow, 3 huge handfuls baby carrots, one small butternut squash, one acorn, one huge onion). Bounce. Dance. Rinse. Wipe hands on baby carrier because paper towel holder has been empty since August.

Since baby is no doubt fussing at this point, change diaper. Return to kitchen for cutting board and veggies. Place baby on tummy time mat. Coo.  Quarter onion. Flip baby onto stomach. Quarter pepper. Babble encouraging nonsense. Halve squash. Bonus: Entranced baby watching as you wack squash against floor. Seriously, could this veggie be any harder? Quarter any remaining veggies. Leave carrots whole. Set veggies aside. Baby is now hating tummy time. You must soothe the pain of wanting to levitate when gravity isn't cooperating.

Seek bouncy chair. Set bouncy chair in center of kitchen. At lightening speed, push veggies onto tray (removing any seeds, etc first). Place tray in oven. Set timer for 45 minutes. Yes, you will forget otherwise. Hopefully your oven has an auto shut-off for when you sleep through the timer. You can go longer or shorter and still be fine.

Spend next hour serving cafeteria duty for infant. She will take out the indignity of being kept waiting on your chest. Breathe. The soup will be worth it.

When the timer goes off, thrust milk-drunk infant at spouse. Alternatively, place infant back in sling. At lightening speed, pour a carton of chicken broth in a stock pot. Add a few healthy spoonfuls of pre-chopped garlic. (What, you think I have time to mess with cloves?). Add a handful of rosemary or favorite spice of choice. This is robust enough to support a mild curry powder, but beware the resulting diapers of your breast fed infant. Rosemary, garlic, lots of salt and freshly ground black pepper KISS their way to yumminess.

Dump piping hot veggies into pot. (Bonus points if you remember to scoop the squash out of its shell first). Immersion blend until desired consistency. Smoothness of final soup directly correlates to mood of infant dictator. It will still be yummy if you have to take a break here to top off the bottomless pit. Finding baby distraction device of choice, pour soup into bottle bowl and gulp down before infant makes next set of demands. Should you be so lucky as to have bread in the house, a piece of toast makes a nice adjunct.

Freeze or refrigerate leftovers once infant finally succumbs to sleep. Quickly now, you should be sleeping too!I must sleep now myself. Desert recipe will wait.

Expectations Defied

I admit it. I had certain expectations of how parenthood would go. Breastfeeding would be easy--after all, my mammoth rack should be good for SOMETHING. Heck, I'd be able to KNIT while feeding, and reading would be a snap. I'd get to the point where I could feed and write at the same time. Speaking of writing, my commitment to my writing and my writing groups would only strengthen.

Sleep would be hard, and post-partum depression would be a constant threat. But, sleeping arrangements would be easy--we'd decided to share our room for a reason. Cloth diapering would be a no-brainer--all those hours and hours of surfing "research" on websites would pay off in spades. Ditto baby wearing. My little monkey would love his/her big cloth diapered bum and would love being strapped to me. Washing them would be a pain, but I'd deal for the sake of saving money. I'd eat  really well because I'd be setting the foundation for my child's future health. My feelings for Caylis would never change. In fact, I'd love her all the more because I could take the baby places with her. Oh, and that taking the baby places business--it would be so fun to dress the baby up and go all over town. Weekend drives with Freak would be much richer for a baby on board.

Obviously, I was lighting something up and smoking it during the waning months of my pregnancy. Like labor and delivery, very little has gone according to plan. And I'm strangely okay with that.

The biggest thing is that I'm not (knock on wood) battling post partum depression. I'm happier than I've been in years. Perhaps ever. Sleep deprivation certainly wrecks havoc on my moods, and I give thanks daily that I decided to stay on my medication for pregnancy and beyond, but overall I'm doing really well and this has colored everything else.

Now, at six weeks, some things are starting to go easier. Breast feeding is easier now, but it took me weeks just to have a free hand to turn pages, let alone do anything more complex like eating. Sticking it out though is one of the things I'm most proud of. We didn't have the hardest time of it, but those early weeks were very challenging.

Sometime in the past two weeks Tavy decided to up and love the changing table. Prior to that she hated being changed with the fiery indignation of a Baptist in a liquor store, and we tried to get it done with a minimum of fuss. No cute outfits--we dispensed gowns and sleepers with military precision.The day I finally put her in a real outfit (the overall pictures if you're curious), I was giddy with joy.

As I pack away the teeny gowns, I'm really excited to be able to put her in cute clothes at last. She's gone from going stiff with rage as soon as she hit the table to loving to hang out there--preferably naked and doing her business sans diaper, but she's not picky--she'll lay there for rattle time, tummy time, story time, and limb flapping time. Don't try to repeat this on other surfaces. I'm seriously considering putting bars on the changing table so that I can use it as a playpen.

And the big, ten pound baby I was expecting turned out to be a petite little thing with the smallest bum you ever saw. She hated cloth diapers to the point that it was a month in before I was using them at all. She has a pamper addiction.  (And all my granola friends recoil in horror here). She breathes a sigh of relief as soon as she gets her disposable at night--and no, I'm not kidding. Her whole demeanor changes when she's put in a cloth diaper. It's getting somewhat better, but it's clear what her preference is. Washing cloth?? It's a snap. Really. Nothing to it. Getting baby to like the cloth? That's what I need help with.

Baby wearing is something else with mixed results.If she's asleep, we can get her in the Mai Tei or the sling easily. She's always accepted baby wearing more readily with Daddy. Our doula made us a pouch and that seemed to turn the tide--she liked being popped in and out so easily, and I discovered that she wanted to ride like a kangaroo. Now, she adores riding in the wrap facing outwards. We go for walks with the dog at last. And just today, she made the cutest sound when I tried to take her out. That made all my determination to find a way to wear her totally worth it.

I'm hoping that eventually we'll have similar success with the car seat, but right now, any drive is torture for her--and us. If she's asleep, things go fine. Until of course, she wakes up and commences operation purple baby. We're gradually taking her places, but right now, I'm feeling pretty tied to the house. I want to take her places and show her off. I NEED to get out, but right now, going for walks is about as "out" as I get. I had a doctor's appointment on Tuesday, and I went to grocery store on my way home. I didn't know what to do with my new-found freedom and I wandered around in a state of bliss. Of course, then I heard a baby cry, and the only thing I wanted was to hurry home to my own.

Sleep is still a challenge too. Tavy and I spend most nights in the guest room because the up-all-night-feeding-and-noisy-sleeping show keeps Freak awake. As the primary wage earner right now, and the world's lightest sleeper, he's earned the right (and need) to sleep alone. I miss sleeping with him, but I also really cherish this one-on-one time with Tavy. I just wish she'd sleep. At all. Anywhere. Some days are great, and some days are . . . not. At all. At best, she'll sleep in her swing, her stroller or on one of us. She's the ultimate princess and the pea, and she accepts no substitutes. I assume she'll use her crib someday. But it makes nifty stuffed animal storage in the meantime!   

I've changed in many unexpected ways. For the first in my life, I'm totally living in the moment, often in ten minute increments. I don't care as much about the big picture. I'd rather sit and enjoy her feeding than try fruitlessly to multi-task. I'd rather nap with her than write. I'd rather live play time than blog about it. I no longer feel guilty about not making progress on my writing. Poor Caylis and the cats are suffering worse than my writing right now.  My tolerance for barking, licking, and scratching is down to nil. It's easier now that we're going for walks, but I still see Caylis as . . . a dog. She's a dog now, not my substitute child, not my best friend. She's a pet, and I still love her, but her place in my life is different now, and I'm having to work to redefine my relationship with her.

I find myself having fewer and fewer expectations these days. I'm not the planner I used to be, and that's a beautiful thing. I just want to watch this unfold and see where the Tavy takes me.

Ode to the Kitty Sleeper

Smiley
Originally uploaded by wavybrains.

This morning was a five outfit kind of morning. And yet, through the haze of all the bodily fluids, I still heard the rumble of change. I can't pull the gowns up from her feet anymore (I hate to pull anything over her head), the sleepers pull and the legs that floated aimlessly for weeks now bottom out. No more shots of legless Tavy flapping in her newborn sleepers.

She's growing. I've spent the last week terrified that she's not growing enough. I keep picturing taking her for her two month check-up and getting a lecture that she hasn't grown enough. She gained a pound in the first month, so these fears aren't unfounded. Fat little butterballs wearing 9 month clothing at 6 weeks of age make me feel like I'm serving up slimfast over here with my baby still wearing the same clothes.

But in the last two weeks, Tavy finally found her way to the cafeteria, and my days aren't so much 24/7 nursing as they were. She's alert more and has times where she'd rather play than feed. Hence, my fears that since she isn't taking forever to finish a feeding, she must not be eating enough.

Cause you know, I just can't leave well enough alone. But, judging by the sheer number of diapers and the tightness of clothes, she IS growing. And suddenly, a new fear emerges. She's growing. She will never be this tiny again. This may be the last time (or heck, the only time) she wears certain outfits.

I understand now why mothers save particular outfits. Packing the outfit away is a tangible reminder that time is speeding away from you and all you can do is wave feebly at the tail lights. My mother kept a particular peach sleeper for nearly 30 years. I stuck it on Tavy the other day, and I wanted to weep--not for the sweetness of the moment but because someday she will be that big too. Some day she will pack some sweet little cherub into the Miss Kitty sleeper and I will be reduced to a pile of sopping goo in front of my computer as I wonder where the time has gone.

Did I savor the tiny days enough? Did I document the changes? Did I do enough to preserve the memory of her first month?

Only time will tell. Well, time and flickr. FIVE, yes FIVE pages of new Tavy pictures on flickr. I'm sure only grandmothers truly need 100 new Tavy pictures, but heck, maybe you need some cuteness in your day too. (And as a bonus, you can compare the pictures of baby Wavy and baby Tavy in the same sleeper!)

Reincarnationist Book Tour

In my previous life, I actually had the time to blog and didn't have to do all my typing one-handed. In this life, however, I am alive and incredibly happy, but sorely lacking in computer time (and amazingly, not all that upset about it either!). I'll get a new post up about 1 month of motherhood very soon. Today, however, I want to talk about the book that made my last week of 24/7 nursing fun. The Reincarnationist by M.J. Rose is even more addictive than the Home & Garden Channel and way better for your brain.

I'm reviewing the book as part of MotherTalk's blog tour, and I'm really grateful for the chance to review this particular book.  At first glance the premise (Present day Josh recieves flashbacks from his previous life as Julius at the end of the Roman Empire, unlocking a mystery that spans two millenniums) is a bit too "DaVinci Code" for my tastes, and I don't buy into the whole reincarnation thing. But, had I listened to my prejudices, I would have missed an amazing book.

This isn't a Shirley Maclain tell-all about previous lives complete with seances and dramatic Seth-like revelations. In fact, one of the things I most liked about the book was that it doesn't require you to believe in or even like reincarnation--it has so many other things happening that reincarnation becomes a plot device more than a theme.

After reading this book, I decided I needed more "puzzle books" so I read two others in this vein--and neither held my interest beyond the first chapters. What makes this book so stellar isn't just the puzzle(s) at its core, but rather the deep point of view and fast paced plotting that Rose employs masterfully.  The subtle differences between Josh/Julius are captured with little gestures and phrasing rather than clunky exposition. 

While impeccably researched, Rose doesn't hit you over the head with her findings. Instead, the plot drives the story forward until its surprising conclusion (a shocker of Crying Game proportions--just read the book!!). It is only at the end that the reader realizes how much detail of ancient Rome, pagans, relics, and reincarnation they have absorbed.

This plot-driven brain food is exactly what makes The Reincarnationist ideal reading for nursing mothers. I can't muster up the brain power to watch the history channel or read non-fiction, but the twists of the plot had me pushing past exhaustion. Heck, for the few days I spent with this book, I actually looked forward to late-night feedings because I wanted to see what happened next.  Plus, it's a hard cover, so it fit well in a book holder, making it ideal for hands-free reading. Now, if I could just find more like it. Maybe Ms. Rose can ask her past selves to get busy :)