Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Sisyphus: The Villain of Household Chores
I never knew Sisyphus was such a creep. I think about that rock a lot, though. And, I'm not complaining. I wouldn't have it any other way. But, laundry and cleaning the house often feel pointless. Arlene said she prayed for each son while she was folding his clothes. I like that. Rather than cursing whoever got the floor dirty within 30 seconds of it being clean. I guess I am afraid (and it's no one I know, just some imagined cleaning police) is going to say my house or my House is dirty. Yet, I know my house and House are clean. Well, at least clean enough. : ) I can think of any Dirt that remains to be cleaned. Although there are Dirty Projects, I suppose. My side of the Street is as clean as I can get it by myself. No one has ever been harmed by dirt. It is evident that our combined Dirt does need to be thoroughly spring cleaned. In ways, it's one huge rock, but maybe instead of the pushing it uphill metaphor, our Rock is more like creating the statue of David. Not done in a day, takes a lot of time, care, and planning, and is worth doing.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Not so much a communcation breakdown...
but a communication never existed. It takes a lot of practice to learn a new skill, and although the status quo is often painful, change doesn't happen without some pain, too. Before, during, and after. At least I think it's true about the after. Mars/Venus problems are real and noticeable, but learned family styles that originated who knows when are also very powerful. Maybe after the Civil War? I think my people came over just before the Civil War. Not sure about Brad's people's immigration. For the record, there is no such thing as mind-reading. I am fast forgetter and a slow learner. My intentions are 100% benevolent. Sometimes, I get caught up in impulsiveness and selfishness, but I have made a LOT of progress. And I can always recognize it in hindsite, and sometimes recognize it while I am doing it. I am 100% committed to change and movement towards adaptivity, and not perfection. We are SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO blessed by our children, and I want to have one more baby. That would really turn us into a herd. One day at a time. One hour at a time. One uncomfortable change at a time. Always look on the bright side of life!
Eric Idle is beyond brilliant in this segment - his delivery, so silly cockney drawl. I love it!
Eric Idle is beyond brilliant in this segment - his delivery, so silly cockney drawl. I love it!
Friday, March 04, 2011
Puppies Behind Bars (PBB)
About PBB:
Millions of innocent puppies are imprisoned each year for crimes they didn’t commit. Puppies Behind Bars (PBB) offers free legal council to wrongly accused puppies. Not really.
PBB trains prison inmates to raise service dogs for the disabled, including PTSD-suffering veterans, and explosive detection canines for law enforcement. The puppies live in prison with their "puppy raisers" from age eight weeks to 18 months. As the puppies mature into well-loved, well-behaved dogs, their raisers learn what it means to contribute to society rather than take from it.
If they are deemed suitable, PBB returns the dogs to the schools where they continue their formal training. If they do not continue on the track to become working dogs, PBB donates them to families with blind children. In either case, these puppies, raised in such a unique environment, spend their lives as companions to people who need them.
The puppies have affected the lives not only of their puppy raisers, but of virtually all the inmates and staff at the prison. It is literally impossible to walk a puppy around without being stopped by inmates who want to pet the dogs or who want to just say 'hi' to them, and [the founder is] constantly being approached by corrections officers and senior staff who ask about the puppies' training. One of our particularly sensitive pups goes to several different areas of the prison: the sixteen- and seventeen-year-old inmates play with her; domestic violence classes use her to get the women to open up and talk; and she even visits inmates who are about to go before the parole board, for it has been found that her presence has a calming effect on the women.
PBB pays 100% of all costs associated with raising puppies in prison, including dog supplies, educational supplies for the puppy raisers, teachers' salaries, and travel.
I am going to give them some money in honor of my 39th birthday and hoped you would join me!
I have a dream
I have a dream that someday diet soda, tobacco products, and alcohol will be classified as schedule I drugs, and marijuana, peyote, psilocybin, exercise, and meditation will be schedule V "highs." HEB has a cane sugar sweetened soda I plan to opt for next time I have a craving. Artificial sweeteners and high fructose corn syrup have similar effects on blood glucose. Love my bubble water
!!!
Read about the origin of seltzer. I have German ancestry!
!!!
Read about the origin of seltzer. I have German ancestry!
Tuesday, March 01, 2011
If I were a celebrity, I would endorse products I liked and used. I am 39 years old and still get pimples. I tried proactiv, and MD Formulations. Now, I just use neutrogena anti-bacterial facial wash or something like that. But, when I do get pimples, this is my favorite product. It's a powder concealer/healer. It doesn't look stupid and it seems to actually help get rid of pimples. It has 3% sulfur, so it kind of smells, but just when you first apply it. I've never tried their other products, but the RareMinerals concealer is awesome.
Feeling loved
Thank you for all the happy birthday wishes. I am feeling loved. Facebook has facilitated people remembering birthdays all over the world, and it is pretty awesome. I used to pride myself on remembering birthdays, but I don't think it's bad NOT to remember them. I have also forgotten some important ones and important dates over the years, and it doesn't diminish affection I have for the person. Now that I have kids, I know how my mom must feel on my birthday. What joy to have a new, healthy, tiny little baby. But, now the baby is 39 and sometimes ornery. The baby pictures are good reminders of the sweet and unadulterated feelings. But, I guess despite years of wrinkle-causing life, there is always unconditional love. And it's mutual.
Going to wear my Latin dancing shoes around the house all day today. Going to make a cake with Hank after we get home from the J playground after school. Bought him a bucket of sand/pea gravel toys to play with while we are out and about. Charlie did well in the sleepywrap on Friday when we went to the J playground. I am also going to organize my hair and toothcare drawer, and if I have some spare time, I am going to do 6 of my fingernails. I have a client at 10 am at the house. She is a very sweet lady.
Hank, Brad, and Charlie are still asleep. Surprising. Hank had a chocolate milk/yellow cup crisis about 4 am. I got the chocolate milk, and Brad was trying to calm the beast. He finally calmed down and fell asleep after I insisted Brad was tired and Brad held him. My analysis was Hank wanted to be held, but can't put together milk and comfort, so he yells for yellow cup/chocolate milk. We have been validating his want verbally, but not indulging the cup change. Eventually, he calms down. I remember feeling frustrated and misunderstood at points in early childhood. I hope he is feeling somewhat understood. It's seems to be hard to find a balance between acknowledging what is important to him in the moment and not creating undesirable habits or making life more challenging for ourselves. Progress, not perfection!
Going to wear my Latin dancing shoes around the house all day today. Going to make a cake with Hank after we get home from the J playground after school. Bought him a bucket of sand/pea gravel toys to play with while we are out and about. Charlie did well in the sleepywrap on Friday when we went to the J playground. I am also going to organize my hair and toothcare drawer, and if I have some spare time, I am going to do 6 of my fingernails. I have a client at 10 am at the house. She is a very sweet lady.
Hank, Brad, and Charlie are still asleep. Surprising. Hank had a chocolate milk/yellow cup crisis about 4 am. I got the chocolate milk, and Brad was trying to calm the beast. He finally calmed down and fell asleep after I insisted Brad was tired and Brad held him. My analysis was Hank wanted to be held, but can't put together milk and comfort, so he yells for yellow cup/chocolate milk. We have been validating his want verbally, but not indulging the cup change. Eventually, he calms down. I remember feeling frustrated and misunderstood at points in early childhood. I hope he is feeling somewhat understood. It's seems to be hard to find a balance between acknowledging what is important to him in the moment and not creating undesirable habits or making life more challenging for ourselves. Progress, not perfection!
Friday, February 11, 2011
World's Best Dad
Have you seen the Seinfeld with Lloyd Bridges about the competition for world's best dad based on heavy lifting and t-shirt proclamations? It's funny.
But, I just wanted to let you know I have the world's best dad. He made 2 trips to CVS pharmacy, and 1 trip to Walgreen's to try to find Charlie the elusive, generic Mylanta Cherry Supreme. No one has the name brand because it was recalled due to a labeling error. He also bought Charlie some Colic Calm as recommended by the Mayo clinic website. Very sweet. He's the best.
But, I just wanted to let you know I have the world's best dad. He made 2 trips to CVS pharmacy, and 1 trip to Walgreen's to try to find Charlie the elusive, generic Mylanta Cherry Supreme. No one has the name brand because it was recalled due to a labeling error. He also bought Charlie some Colic Calm as recommended by the Mayo clinic website. Very sweet. He's the best.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Changes
I think my sweet little three year-old has some of my hyper-sensitivity. I've been told and have come to believe this trait is not a character defect, but can be troublesome. He notices changes and details I think will escape him. While considering pruning the refrigerator of "art" and various commemorative papers, I thought I had best take the items down and save them to make sure one of them wasn't, in fact, a prized possession.
My caution regarding his sensitivity reminded me of a sweet story. My first pet, a goldfish, whom I think was named, Curly, as in Larry, Moe, and Curly, died when I was about 3. I watched the Three Stooges every morning at 6 AM with my dad. We both like the stories and predicaments the Stooges get themselves into, and ignore the slapstick stuff. I don't remember becoming particularly emotionally attached to the goldfish, but, in an act of fatherly love, upon Curly's passing in the night, my dad went to Kmart to replace him, assuming I would not notice the impostor. When I got up the next morning to feed Curly, I remarked he had grown - quite a bit. I think my dad chuckled. I don't remember being sad about Curly's demise, and I was perfectly happy with his successor, probably named Larry or Moe. Even three year-olds can handle some changes without trauma or later need therapy.
I have a hard time seeing Hank get upset. But I know, if I prevent all pain, I will be robbing him of valuable human experiences. Better to go through pain with my support and carry that skill into adulthood. It's such a knee-jerk and unconscious drive to want to immediately take away or prevent any discomfort. But, I should give him credit that he has been stepping back from the ledge of panic sooner and with more ease when something upsets him, little by little.
It's also a balance between validating his wants and emotions with trying to help him put them in perspective and/or simply distracting him away from being upset. When you spill milk for the first time, it IS a big deal. But, on the 50th time, maybe we come to the realization that it's no longer a cry-worthy event.
The other day while schlepping food, drinks, and Charlie into Hank's room to play, Hank suggested we bring Charlie's pacifier "so he didn't cry." Apparently the urge to prevent pain develops early. (Of course, I understand it's also a matter of who gets the attention, but he did seem to have some genuine sympathy for Charlie). I've been trying to remind Hank that when he was a baby and was upset, we tried to comfort him in the same way we comfort Charlie. I hope that will sink in on some level at least for future reference. (And not the memory that when Charlie came along, Hank became less important).
I don't at all feel like there isn't enough love to go around, but I do feel guilty that Hank has less of my attention than he used to. But again, I think that's probably not a bad skill to acquire as a human, and what better time than when he is developing the hard wiring of the way the world works. At some point we all move from being the neediest little person on the planet to becoming more and more self-sufficient and less in need or want of undivided attention. That is, until 80 or 90 years later, when we do need someone's undivided attention, again. Loss is still a ledge I don't even like to look at. I just try to breath and enjoy the moment, rather than to stand on the ledge, looking at it, and worrying about when I will fall off.
Last night I stayed up past both kids going to sleep. When I went up to bed, I had kind of an LSD-whoa that we have two little people who live with us and sleep with us, and all we did to get them was have sex. It's pretty amazing that having sex one time leads to the creation of another human being who will call you mommy or whatever you tell him your name is, probably. I think I'll go by "mum" with the next one. Not really. And I was not taking LSD last night, it just reminded me of the awes some people experience. (Although 99.9% of the time the deep thoughts LSD inspires are totally stupid or totally incomprehensible the next day). Or the idea scribbled on a napkin or toilet paper roll or forearm is illegible and lost for the benefit of humanity. Too bad.
My caution regarding his sensitivity reminded me of a sweet story. My first pet, a goldfish, whom I think was named, Curly, as in Larry, Moe, and Curly, died when I was about 3. I watched the Three Stooges every morning at 6 AM with my dad. We both like the stories and predicaments the Stooges get themselves into, and ignore the slapstick stuff. I don't remember becoming particularly emotionally attached to the goldfish, but, in an act of fatherly love, upon Curly's passing in the night, my dad went to Kmart to replace him, assuming I would not notice the impostor. When I got up the next morning to feed Curly, I remarked he had grown - quite a bit. I think my dad chuckled. I don't remember being sad about Curly's demise, and I was perfectly happy with his successor, probably named Larry or Moe. Even three year-olds can handle some changes without trauma or later need therapy.
I have a hard time seeing Hank get upset. But I know, if I prevent all pain, I will be robbing him of valuable human experiences. Better to go through pain with my support and carry that skill into adulthood. It's such a knee-jerk and unconscious drive to want to immediately take away or prevent any discomfort. But, I should give him credit that he has been stepping back from the ledge of panic sooner and with more ease when something upsets him, little by little.
It's also a balance between validating his wants and emotions with trying to help him put them in perspective and/or simply distracting him away from being upset. When you spill milk for the first time, it IS a big deal. But, on the 50th time, maybe we come to the realization that it's no longer a cry-worthy event.
The other day while schlepping food, drinks, and Charlie into Hank's room to play, Hank suggested we bring Charlie's pacifier "so he didn't cry." Apparently the urge to prevent pain develops early. (Of course, I understand it's also a matter of who gets the attention, but he did seem to have some genuine sympathy for Charlie). I've been trying to remind Hank that when he was a baby and was upset, we tried to comfort him in the same way we comfort Charlie. I hope that will sink in on some level at least for future reference. (And not the memory that when Charlie came along, Hank became less important).
I don't at all feel like there isn't enough love to go around, but I do feel guilty that Hank has less of my attention than he used to. But again, I think that's probably not a bad skill to acquire as a human, and what better time than when he is developing the hard wiring of the way the world works. At some point we all move from being the neediest little person on the planet to becoming more and more self-sufficient and less in need or want of undivided attention. That is, until 80 or 90 years later, when we do need someone's undivided attention, again. Loss is still a ledge I don't even like to look at. I just try to breath and enjoy the moment, rather than to stand on the ledge, looking at it, and worrying about when I will fall off.
Last night I stayed up past both kids going to sleep. When I went up to bed, I had kind of an LSD-whoa that we have two little people who live with us and sleep with us, and all we did to get them was have sex. It's pretty amazing that having sex one time leads to the creation of another human being who will call you mommy or whatever you tell him your name is, probably. I think I'll go by "mum" with the next one. Not really. And I was not taking LSD last night, it just reminded me of the awes some people experience. (Although 99.9% of the time the deep thoughts LSD inspires are totally stupid or totally incomprehensible the next day). Or the idea scribbled on a napkin or toilet paper roll or forearm is illegible and lost for the benefit of humanity. Too bad.
Wednesday, February 09, 2011
Dear Zeus (or whichever One of you does the weather),
Since we are having winter this year, can we please have fewer bugs, and in particular fewer mosquitos in the spring and summer? Spring and fall would be as perfect as winter were it not for those blood-sucking mother mosquitos.
Had Uncle TH and Aunt JH down for the first snow I have ever seen stick to the road in Austin. They did have 2.5 days of nice weather. We felt guilty about the snow. Silly. HH LOVED having them down. I can see how it takes a village...because Brad and I were so much more at ease having some backup. I want another baby, too. It is such a miracle that at almost 39 I have an infant and a three year-old. What a great way to prolong getting "old."
I am trying to figure out ways to work from/at home so that I can generate income enough for Brad to go to nursing school. I am going to try insurance companies for wellness coaches. More writing possibilities. Personal training at home. Maybe yoga and pilates classes? If training is during the day, people have to be cool with a baby (or two) around. I feel much more at ease with caring for a baby while working. Just feed it, burp it, or rock it. Or, it might even just be sleeping. With Hank I felt very unsure of what I would do depending on what he would do, and I had no idea what that might be. All of my personal training clients are women. The vast majority have kids and like being around a baby. The drawback is, sometimes a crazy night leaves me stupid. I fight the urge to nap and hibernate, but I'm not a good fighter. Ideally, I would like to write more, but I realize it's not my turn to find ideally. Just to find an economical use of my time and expertise while being able to care for young children.
BH and I have seen Judith Sokolow from Jewish Family Services 2x. We have one more time to see her. She has given us some practical communication skills. Skills I learned in group therapy, but am out of practice with and can't practice in a vacuum. I feel very hopeful. I am determined to model adaptive communication for HH and CH. Not perfect, but adaptive.
For some strange reason I am awake at 9:50 PM, and everyone else is asleep. For some other reason I don't like being awake alone at night, but love it during early morning hours. It's an artifact from my past life, but I wonder why, after 15 years of piety, it still feels yucky to stay up late. I guess it's just OK to be no matter what time it is. And it's OK to say, well, there you go, silly.
This morning I remembered that I would never say, "you are a big fatty," to anyone. Even to a big fatty. : ) So, why would I say that to myself? I am feeding a baby. I am 11 weeks post-partum. It doesn't matter what any other mother looks like at this stage of post-partum. As long as all the parts are working, that's all there is. That's what is to be grateful for. Thank you. It is such a gift to care for an infant. So amazing and impossible to reciprocate.
Had Uncle TH and Aunt JH down for the first snow I have ever seen stick to the road in Austin. They did have 2.5 days of nice weather. We felt guilty about the snow. Silly. HH LOVED having them down. I can see how it takes a village...because Brad and I were so much more at ease having some backup. I want another baby, too. It is such a miracle that at almost 39 I have an infant and a three year-old. What a great way to prolong getting "old."
I am trying to figure out ways to work from/at home so that I can generate income enough for Brad to go to nursing school. I am going to try insurance companies for wellness coaches. More writing possibilities. Personal training at home. Maybe yoga and pilates classes? If training is during the day, people have to be cool with a baby (or two) around. I feel much more at ease with caring for a baby while working. Just feed it, burp it, or rock it. Or, it might even just be sleeping. With Hank I felt very unsure of what I would do depending on what he would do, and I had no idea what that might be. All of my personal training clients are women. The vast majority have kids and like being around a baby. The drawback is, sometimes a crazy night leaves me stupid. I fight the urge to nap and hibernate, but I'm not a good fighter. Ideally, I would like to write more, but I realize it's not my turn to find ideally. Just to find an economical use of my time and expertise while being able to care for young children.
BH and I have seen Judith Sokolow from Jewish Family Services 2x. We have one more time to see her. She has given us some practical communication skills. Skills I learned in group therapy, but am out of practice with and can't practice in a vacuum. I feel very hopeful. I am determined to model adaptive communication for HH and CH. Not perfect, but adaptive.
For some strange reason I am awake at 9:50 PM, and everyone else is asleep. For some other reason I don't like being awake alone at night, but love it during early morning hours. It's an artifact from my past life, but I wonder why, after 15 years of piety, it still feels yucky to stay up late. I guess it's just OK to be no matter what time it is. And it's OK to say, well, there you go, silly.
This morning I remembered that I would never say, "you are a big fatty," to anyone. Even to a big fatty. : ) So, why would I say that to myself? I am feeding a baby. I am 11 weeks post-partum. It doesn't matter what any other mother looks like at this stage of post-partum. As long as all the parts are working, that's all there is. That's what is to be grateful for. Thank you. It is such a gift to care for an infant. So amazing and impossible to reciprocate.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Middle of the Night Poems (Mostly Hokey)
I don't remember the format for Haiku, and these are not, but I did try to stay to an odd number of syllables per line.
1.
I gave up
books I left open
stayed unread
missing the person
who are you
2.
loving the winter
cloudy skies
capillaries of the trees
sanctuaries now revealed
3.
a hermit
facebook is my New York Times
always something worth reading
keeping up with how you are
all of you
4.
then
late night hours
I was always up
lacking peace
lost
5.
never thought
angel face
precious time
speeds away
so holy
divine kiss
always loved
my two sons
1.
I gave up
books I left open
stayed unread
missing the person
who are you
2.
loving the winter
cloudy skies
capillaries of the trees
sanctuaries now revealed
3.
a hermit
facebook is my New York Times
always something worth reading
keeping up with how you are
all of you
4.
then
late night hours
I was always up
lacking peace
lost
5.
never thought
angel face
precious time
speeds away
so holy
divine kiss
always loved
my two sons
Letter from Lloyd
I'm on Lloyd Doggett's email list (Lloyd's List). The last email he sent, I replied with something along the lines of, "You are so awesome. I love you!" And, those things are true, but I assumed the email would either bounce back, go to spam, or at least go unread.
Nope, not my Lloyd. He sent me this letter AND a 2011 calendar from the US Capitol Historical Society. My home address wasn't on my email AND I'm not even in his district, anymore. Lloyd Doggett is so awesome and I do love him!
Nope, not my Lloyd. He sent me this letter AND a 2011 calendar from the US Capitol Historical Society. My home address wasn't on my email AND I'm not even in his district, anymore. Lloyd Doggett is so awesome and I do love him!
Friday, January 14, 2011
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
Monday, January 03, 2011
Five Little Monkeys Song with Finger Puppets | Children music & nursery ...
I find this rendition to be very disturbing.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Looks like we made it
I always sang that song in my head coming off the last hill of the dam loop. I don't miss that ride at all.
HH, CH, and I made it through 2 weeks of home alone for long stretches. This well was smoother, but still a challenge.
I usually write on Dec 23. This year is my quinceneira. I was sick and worn out last week. I am going to try to get a chip this weekend.
Wish I could go to Go Dance NYE party. It was $25 in advance. I asked for a nondrinker discount, and they said no. A nondrinker and stay about an hour. Probably fine to stay home, rest, and steer clear of the amateurs.
I'm using my iPod touch, which I call an itouch, just to be annoying, but anyway the touch screen is acting a little weird.
I am still hacking up and blowing out gunk from my sinus infection-over 2
weeks. The worst is not getting enough sleeps due to cough. I always get this cough and have to beg for guaffinessin with codeine-one of the 1st cough meds and the only one that works for me. Just suffering. I wish docs understood some patients are not idiots and can use deductive reasoning if nothing else to diagnose themselves. Oh, well.
I'll stop, now, because the keyboard is being weird
HH, CH, and I made it through 2 weeks of home alone for long stretches. This well was smoother, but still a challenge.
I usually write on Dec 23. This year is my quinceneira. I was sick and worn out last week. I am going to try to get a chip this weekend.
Wish I could go to Go Dance NYE party. It was $25 in advance. I asked for a nondrinker discount, and they said no. A nondrinker and stay about an hour. Probably fine to stay home, rest, and steer clear of the amateurs.
I'm using my iPod touch, which I call an itouch, just to be annoying, but anyway the touch screen is acting a little weird.
I am still hacking up and blowing out gunk from my sinus infection-over 2
weeks. The worst is not getting enough sleeps due to cough. I always get this cough and have to beg for guaffinessin with codeine-one of the 1st cough meds and the only one that works for me. Just suffering. I wish docs understood some patients are not idiots and can use deductive reasoning if nothing else to diagnose themselves. Oh, well.
I'll stop, now, because the keyboard is being weird
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Louis CK and Unvacation
I saw a John Stewart interview with Louis CK about his FX series. He is hilarious. Reed used to tell me he thought Bill Hicks was his soulmate. I feel this way about Louis CK. He is so sweetly irreverent. I was talking with a dad at Ramsey whose red-headed son was playing with Hank, and I mentioned Louis CK. He also found him hilarious and also found others didn't get him. I have tried to explain a few bits to Brad, but I admit, make Louis CK sound mean or raunchy, or just not funny. I clearly, though I like to think I am, am not a comedian. I don't have the timing or delivery necessary. The entire FX series is on instant netflix.
I also recently saw a Dave Chapelle standup routine. He discusses the ridiculousness of women in women's magazines giving advice about men. E.g., 100 ways to please your man, written by a woman. He said there were only 4 ways, and I paraphrase, "perform oral sex, something else related to oral sex, make him a sandwich, and don't talk so much." I love that. Although, I don't think that describes Brad. But, maybe I have read too many women's magazines.
Hank, Charlie, and I have been home, alone together for the past week and a half (except for the hours of 5-8:30 am several weekdays and Sunday mornings). I think Hank has done well with the transition of the addition of a huge attention stealer. He has regressed, I guess for lack of a better description, in some emotional expression. He has made progress verbalizing his want for attention or disturbance simply with the change in the game. Last week, I thought a lot about the Calgon, take me away commercial. It felt like an all day crisis management, and I was sick, and didn't feel well, and sleep deprived, etc. This week, after getting 2.5 days home with me and Brad, he has done much better. He still has a few teary meltdowns when I deny him candy or going to the store to buy more toys, or something like that. It is SO sad the expression on his face when he cries. I want the instant gratification, I suppose, of entertaining his want for instant gratification. I keep reminding myself that just because he cries when he asks for candy, and he has already had more than I intended to give him for the day, that I am not helping him by giving him more candy. A cocaine addict would cry for more cocaine, and that doesn't mean they should be given more cocaine. And not that Hank has developed an eating disorder or something like dependence, it is my job to be the self-regulation that he cannot yet provide for himself. The fact that he even eats candy is not what I had intended for him. Other parents tell me their kids would eat candy all day everyday if they let them. Some parents have managed to keep their kids away from candy altogether. The other day, he was eating some reese's peanut butter cups and said, "I love this candy." He said it with the same sweetness he uses when he says, "I love you," to me. He sometimes says, "I love you, too, mommy," as the initial statement. It is so sweet. This morning I was so sleepy, and he was waking me up by kissing my face. It was funny, but also SO sweet. I hope I will be recovering next week with some seriously long naps.
I also recently saw a Dave Chapelle standup routine. He discusses the ridiculousness of women in women's magazines giving advice about men. E.g., 100 ways to please your man, written by a woman. He said there were only 4 ways, and I paraphrase, "perform oral sex, something else related to oral sex, make him a sandwich, and don't talk so much." I love that. Although, I don't think that describes Brad. But, maybe I have read too many women's magazines.
Hank, Charlie, and I have been home, alone together for the past week and a half (except for the hours of 5-8:30 am several weekdays and Sunday mornings). I think Hank has done well with the transition of the addition of a huge attention stealer. He has regressed, I guess for lack of a better description, in some emotional expression. He has made progress verbalizing his want for attention or disturbance simply with the change in the game. Last week, I thought a lot about the Calgon, take me away commercial. It felt like an all day crisis management, and I was sick, and didn't feel well, and sleep deprived, etc. This week, after getting 2.5 days home with me and Brad, he has done much better. He still has a few teary meltdowns when I deny him candy or going to the store to buy more toys, or something like that. It is SO sad the expression on his face when he cries. I want the instant gratification, I suppose, of entertaining his want for instant gratification. I keep reminding myself that just because he cries when he asks for candy, and he has already had more than I intended to give him for the day, that I am not helping him by giving him more candy. A cocaine addict would cry for more cocaine, and that doesn't mean they should be given more cocaine. And not that Hank has developed an eating disorder or something like dependence, it is my job to be the self-regulation that he cannot yet provide for himself. The fact that he even eats candy is not what I had intended for him. Other parents tell me their kids would eat candy all day everyday if they let them. Some parents have managed to keep their kids away from candy altogether. The other day, he was eating some reese's peanut butter cups and said, "I love this candy." He said it with the same sweetness he uses when he says, "I love you," to me. He sometimes says, "I love you, too, mommy," as the initial statement. It is so sweet. This morning I was so sleepy, and he was waking me up by kissing my face. It was funny, but also SO sweet. I hope I will be recovering next week with some seriously long naps.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Stewards
I heard a long time before I considered having children that parents are stewards of their children. We don't "own" our children, and the point of having children is not to have children, but to ultimately have more adults. Merge those thoughts with a more zen approach of mindfully enjoying each day. Charlie was born last Sunday night after a very short active labor (9-11 pm), lots of the f word, exclamations that I was pooping, and that I could not, in fact, continue to give birth. The nurse midwife, L&D nurse, and Brad gave me enough encouragement that Charlie did come out, weighing 7 pounds, which seems like a lot, but Hank only weighed 5 pounds, 10 ounces. So, here I am at 5 am, feeling totally hormonal, hungry, and freezing. I was freezing, I think from becoming slightly dehydrated during the night making the 2 tanker trucks of milk I am now schlepping around. I am happy to provide free food for the kid.
The other night, after putting Hank to bed, I got so weepy that he is already huge, and mad at myself for not staying in the zen, daily and minutely moments more often, and overwhelmed by feelings of how much affection and love I have for these people. Even for Brad, although he hasn't changed, I feel more love towards him as I see him being a dad. [As I am feeling hyper-emotional, I can feel my mammary glands topping off what were already overly-full tanks. Hormones are powerful substances. More powerful than synthetic drugs]. My point was that I don't want to overwhelm Hank and Charlie with my extreme and intense feelings. Brad can take it, so he may get overwhelmed. And the extreme emotions that accompany pregnancy and birth are adaptive in that they require a slowing down and promote mindfulness to enjoy every feeding and every burp. And the only thing truly required is to channel the love I feel into spending time with them doing what they want to do. Play with cars, legos, go to the playground, etc. And model being a decent human being. Providing direction and how the world works will not just come from me, and I don't think that is my primary purpose with them. I know I have heard in meetings, "God doesn't have grandchildren." That makes sense to me. I can't even get near the line approaching not having them in my life, but that thought is slightly less overwhelming if I think of caring for them on Earth in a way that God might care for them. Or at least that being the goal. I have been loaned them as a gift to stay with me until they are adults and will hopefully get to enjoy them well into their adulthood.
Slightly different subject, St. David's kicks Seton's ass so badly. My ob's practice at the Renaissance Women's Health Facility by St. David's North Austin Medical Center. a) I LOVED all the practitioners: 3 ob's, 2 nurse midwives, 2 nurse practitioners. One of the nurse midwives delivered Charlie. She was so awesome. b) the food was awesome. I made myself french toast this morning (with Hank's challah, no less) because I had had 2 awesome servings of French toast during my stay. They had a menu from which you could choose and order to be delivered at a time you wished. Awesome. c) The postpartum care was awesome. Adequate pain management, competent nursing staff, a comfortable room, which Hank called, "the hotel." I'll give Seton this, the food was OK, although I didn't get to pick what I wanted. Getting pain med was more like begging. I found the refrigerator sooner at Seton and was able to feel less like a lazy bum asking for water and crackers and stuff. I found the kitchen at St. David's the day we left, and actually, Brad found it. St. David's had locks on many of the kitchen cabinets, which I thought was kind of mean to taunt postpartum ladies with. I also had WAY fewer stitches this time, so getting around and up and down was SO much more manageable. I mostly had cramps when nursing, and achyness in my abs and low back. NOTHING like the wad of stitches I was sitting on after Hank was extracted from me by the male OB I didn't know at Seton. I know, a little dramatic, but, the more I consider it, the more I feel disempowered by that place and their practices. I know it's ultimately irrelevant. Got healthy Hank home, but why not leave the hospital with a beautiful feeling rather than feeling like we had to take Hank and run away from Seton at the first opportunity.
Anyway, postpartum day 7, I want one more baby. And no, I am not going to think about how unpleasant the pregnancies have been for me. Every pregnancy is different. The next one could be much worse. haha. I actually would like to be Angelina and Brad, if we had the nannies they have, also. But that is kind of lame. Why delegate part of child-rearing to strangers? If we had an aunt or some slightly older relative living with us who could aid in the care, I would be cool with that. When I am tired and don't feel like playing with legos, I want Brad to play with legos with him. I don't want Hank to miss out on playing with legos, but I realize it is not very motherly to delegate. I KNOW this is all a balance, and one has to bathe, brush one's teeth, EXERCISE, which I cannot believe how long it has been since I have done formal physical activity. I am going to do some right this second!!!
The other night, after putting Hank to bed, I got so weepy that he is already huge, and mad at myself for not staying in the zen, daily and minutely moments more often, and overwhelmed by feelings of how much affection and love I have for these people. Even for Brad, although he hasn't changed, I feel more love towards him as I see him being a dad. [As I am feeling hyper-emotional, I can feel my mammary glands topping off what were already overly-full tanks. Hormones are powerful substances. More powerful than synthetic drugs]. My point was that I don't want to overwhelm Hank and Charlie with my extreme and intense feelings. Brad can take it, so he may get overwhelmed. And the extreme emotions that accompany pregnancy and birth are adaptive in that they require a slowing down and promote mindfulness to enjoy every feeding and every burp. And the only thing truly required is to channel the love I feel into spending time with them doing what they want to do. Play with cars, legos, go to the playground, etc. And model being a decent human being. Providing direction and how the world works will not just come from me, and I don't think that is my primary purpose with them. I know I have heard in meetings, "God doesn't have grandchildren." That makes sense to me. I can't even get near the line approaching not having them in my life, but that thought is slightly less overwhelming if I think of caring for them on Earth in a way that God might care for them. Or at least that being the goal. I have been loaned them as a gift to stay with me until they are adults and will hopefully get to enjoy them well into their adulthood.
Slightly different subject, St. David's kicks Seton's ass so badly. My ob's practice at the Renaissance Women's Health Facility by St. David's North Austin Medical Center. a) I LOVED all the practitioners: 3 ob's, 2 nurse midwives, 2 nurse practitioners. One of the nurse midwives delivered Charlie. She was so awesome. b) the food was awesome. I made myself french toast this morning (with Hank's challah, no less) because I had had 2 awesome servings of French toast during my stay. They had a menu from which you could choose and order to be delivered at a time you wished. Awesome. c) The postpartum care was awesome. Adequate pain management, competent nursing staff, a comfortable room, which Hank called, "the hotel." I'll give Seton this, the food was OK, although I didn't get to pick what I wanted. Getting pain med was more like begging. I found the refrigerator sooner at Seton and was able to feel less like a lazy bum asking for water and crackers and stuff. I found the kitchen at St. David's the day we left, and actually, Brad found it. St. David's had locks on many of the kitchen cabinets, which I thought was kind of mean to taunt postpartum ladies with. I also had WAY fewer stitches this time, so getting around and up and down was SO much more manageable. I mostly had cramps when nursing, and achyness in my abs and low back. NOTHING like the wad of stitches I was sitting on after Hank was extracted from me by the male OB I didn't know at Seton. I know, a little dramatic, but, the more I consider it, the more I feel disempowered by that place and their practices. I know it's ultimately irrelevant. Got healthy Hank home, but why not leave the hospital with a beautiful feeling rather than feeling like we had to take Hank and run away from Seton at the first opportunity.
Anyway, postpartum day 7, I want one more baby. And no, I am not going to think about how unpleasant the pregnancies have been for me. Every pregnancy is different. The next one could be much worse. haha. I actually would like to be Angelina and Brad, if we had the nannies they have, also. But that is kind of lame. Why delegate part of child-rearing to strangers? If we had an aunt or some slightly older relative living with us who could aid in the care, I would be cool with that. When I am tired and don't feel like playing with legos, I want Brad to play with legos with him. I don't want Hank to miss out on playing with legos, but I realize it is not very motherly to delegate. I KNOW this is all a balance, and one has to bathe, brush one's teeth, EXERCISE, which I cannot believe how long it has been since I have done formal physical activity. I am going to do some right this second!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)