When les Mamans asked us if we could take the kids for a Saturday night so they could celebrate their first wedding anniversary, Sweetie McPie and I realized that we'd completely forgotten about our own wedding anniversary, which had passed a few days before that. (This was back at the beginning of August.)
Oh well! we shrugged. Luckily, we find a reason to celebrate on most days, so we probably celebrated something that day (it was a Monday, but that is no impediment), and now we had an excuse to set aside some day in the future for an extra-special celebration.
So, about three weeks ago (August 29th, specifically) was my anniversary of Not Working For The Man.
Oh, how much do I *not* miss going to the office everyday? How much do I *not* miss technical writing? (Those are rhetorical questions, but you knew that already.)
In fact, it occured to me that I should maybe now update my profile to remove the "non-aspiring tech writer part". (I could also maybe add in something about "mom" and change "apprentice knitter" to "wish I were knitting"...)
I have been lucky enough to enjoy a few "professional" (if not necessarily paid) projects over the past year -- the editing, the interview and profile writing -- and I'm looking forward to doing more of the same in the coming months. In fact, I'm almost starting to look forward to the time when Tim's old enough to maybe be taken care of by someone else (aka "daycare") for a day or two so I can dedicate some time to actual work. But I'm not in a super-hurry for that. And I count my lucky stars every day that I don't have a deadline for deciding.
What I will dare to say is, I don't think I'll be going back to an office in the forseeable future. If at all. Really maybe never.
I think that's something to celebrate.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Whiling away
So, the Bible Study is proceeding, um, very slowly. I've read the introduction to the Pentateuch, skipped the first creation story (because, it turns out, it's pretty familiar), and am up to the part in the second creation story where the Subtle Serpent is sweet-talking the natives. (Also very familiar.)
That's not to say I'm not getting any reading done these days. I'm just a bit scattered. Besides the Bible in the bathroom. I've got Love in the Time of Cholera in the stroller for my morning reads while Tim sleeps; there's Why Gender Matters by the nursing pillow to read while feeding; Eats, Shoots and Leaves is on the bedside table, and up until this past weekend's book club meeting, I had an online version of Gertrude Stein's Three Lives up on my laptop for fly-by skimming. (NB: Do NOT ever attempt to read Three Lives. It is terrible. I assume it's only in print because it's Gertrude Stein. I can only guess that her non-fiction -- which I haven't read -- is more intelligent and engaging. These novellas are pretty much the worst published document I've laid eyes on.)
I need to add Frankenstein to this line-up (again for book club), but I've found an audio version that might do the trick for when I'm puttering around and can't sit (or stand still) to read.
Ya do what ya can.
With luck, I may finish the lot by Halloween... At which point I have a loverly new hardcover copy of the new Alice Munro to dive into. Yay!
Meanwhile, my sister and nephew are visiting for the week, and we are doing not much of anything other than childcare. But it's more interesting with company, I can assure you. The boys are quite hilarious together -- aware of each others' presence when placed in proximity to each other, but not quite sure what to do with each other. Other that grab at each other's faces. I will post pictures as soon as I can.
That's not to say I'm not getting any reading done these days. I'm just a bit scattered. Besides the Bible in the bathroom. I've got Love in the Time of Cholera in the stroller for my morning reads while Tim sleeps; there's Why Gender Matters by the nursing pillow to read while feeding; Eats, Shoots and Leaves is on the bedside table, and up until this past weekend's book club meeting, I had an online version of Gertrude Stein's Three Lives up on my laptop for fly-by skimming. (NB: Do NOT ever attempt to read Three Lives. It is terrible. I assume it's only in print because it's Gertrude Stein. I can only guess that her non-fiction -- which I haven't read -- is more intelligent and engaging. These novellas are pretty much the worst published document I've laid eyes on.)
I need to add Frankenstein to this line-up (again for book club), but I've found an audio version that might do the trick for when I'm puttering around and can't sit (or stand still) to read.
Ya do what ya can.
With luck, I may finish the lot by Halloween... At which point I have a loverly new hardcover copy of the new Alice Munro to dive into. Yay!
Meanwhile, my sister and nephew are visiting for the week, and we are doing not much of anything other than childcare. But it's more interesting with company, I can assure you. The boys are quite hilarious together -- aware of each others' presence when placed in proximity to each other, but not quite sure what to do with each other. Other that grab at each other's faces. I will post pictures as soon as I can.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
And it's not even Lent
I'm thinking about maybe reading the Bible.
In my first year of university, one of my English Lit profs -- an stodgy old fart who claimed that English literature went downhill after Alexander Pope -- gave the class a list of all the works that we needed to read if we wanted to consider ourselves true literature academics. The Bible was at the top of that list. (There were also many Greek and Roman philosophers/poets there.)
To be honest, I don't think I did much of the reading for that class (Aristotle, Virgil, Cicero, Homer -- are you kidding me?), let alone the rest of the classics he recommended. I've been a pretty poor student of literature in that way; I've lost track of the Dickens I've abandoned partway through. It occurs to me that that paper I wrote in grad school on Paradise Lost may have been easier to accomplish if I've been more familiar with the reference text...
But ever since I visited Israel (years and years ago), and used the New Testament as a tour guide through Nazareth, Galilee, Jerusalem, and Bethlehem, I've been pretty interested in the historical context of both the event described in the Bible, and the writing of it (the events and the writing being separated by hundreds of years, of course). I figure if I want to learn more about the context (partly so I can argue my case for my agnosticism), I should be familiar with the text itself. Also, it does figure pretty huge in much English literature old and contemporary, so it feeds the geek in me.
So, I've replaced Jack Newman's Guide to Breastfeeding with the New Jerusalem Bible beside the toilet upstairs. I figure that since I managed to scour Dr. Newman's book cover to cover over the past six months just by keeping it by the toilet (and I didn't even have any breastfeeding issues that needed attending to; it was just there), it's a good place to put the Bible to ensure I actually delve into it.
(We also now have a copy of the Tao Te Ching there, for when spiritual needs are more pressing than literary geekiness.)
I'll try to remember to post my progress in this endeavour. If I make any.
In my first year of university, one of my English Lit profs -- an stodgy old fart who claimed that English literature went downhill after Alexander Pope -- gave the class a list of all the works that we needed to read if we wanted to consider ourselves true literature academics. The Bible was at the top of that list. (There were also many Greek and Roman philosophers/poets there.)
To be honest, I don't think I did much of the reading for that class (Aristotle, Virgil, Cicero, Homer -- are you kidding me?), let alone the rest of the classics he recommended. I've been a pretty poor student of literature in that way; I've lost track of the Dickens I've abandoned partway through. It occurs to me that that paper I wrote in grad school on Paradise Lost may have been easier to accomplish if I've been more familiar with the reference text...
But ever since I visited Israel (years and years ago), and used the New Testament as a tour guide through Nazareth, Galilee, Jerusalem, and Bethlehem, I've been pretty interested in the historical context of both the event described in the Bible, and the writing of it (the events and the writing being separated by hundreds of years, of course). I figure if I want to learn more about the context (partly so I can argue my case for my agnosticism), I should be familiar with the text itself. Also, it does figure pretty huge in much English literature old and contemporary, so it feeds the geek in me.
So, I've replaced Jack Newman's Guide to Breastfeeding with the New Jerusalem Bible beside the toilet upstairs. I figure that since I managed to scour Dr. Newman's book cover to cover over the past six months just by keeping it by the toilet (and I didn't even have any breastfeeding issues that needed attending to; it was just there), it's a good place to put the Bible to ensure I actually delve into it.
(We also now have a copy of the Tao Te Ching there, for when spiritual needs are more pressing than literary geekiness.)
I'll try to remember to post my progress in this endeavour. If I make any.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Christmas is over
Well, Sweetie McPie has returned to a workaday routine, and Tim and I are on Day 3 of Home Alone: Post Christmas Blues.
But we're not blue! While we'd prefer Dad to be home with us all day, everyday, ad infinitum, we managing famously with the situation, as dealt. We are also buoyed by the fact that Dad seems to have interesting stuff to look forward to at work. And we are all strengthened by our experience this summer as a together-family.
It was a busy summer, full of travel, frisbee, and projects around the house (we rebuilt the front stairs and walkway, redecorated Constance's bedroom, and built a deck for les Mamans). Finally, in the last week or so before the Return to Work, we settled down into true Vacation territory, and began to establish a nice domestic routine. It involved plenty of strolling, some working out, playing on blankets, and delicious suppers. And plenty of this:
This routine has been serving Tim and I well this week so far. We all wake up around the same time, and enjoy a morning together with diaper changes, breakfast for all, and coffee for parents. When Dad leaves for work, Mom and Tim go for a stroll, wherein Tim sleeps and Mom parks herself in a nearby park and reads. There is playtime with Tim on the floor, chore time with Tim in the wrap (on Mom), and then more stroller-time to mellow Tim out so Mom can have a workout. Of some sort.
Details, details. Suffice to say, it's all going rather smoothly, and Tim is a charming fellow who wins my heart daily.
I do have to say, the summer of Dad being home was an incredible gift -- one that I think we'll all find to be quite lasting. It's the topic of another post (one that I doubt I'll get around to), to explain how sharing the reigns for a few months will help us be better parents together, and help me to give up control in the best possible way. (For the record, I believe that new moms, by definition, are control freaks. It's sort of necessary, but also sort of a result of how families tend to work these days...) And I haven't even gotten to reconnecting as a couple... A whole other topic!
Anyway, the fall of 2009 promises to have new and exciting adventures - travel, food, writing, some serious cuteness, and possibly even some air guitar.
But we're not blue! While we'd prefer Dad to be home with us all day, everyday, ad infinitum, we managing famously with the situation, as dealt. We are also buoyed by the fact that Dad seems to have interesting stuff to look forward to at work. And we are all strengthened by our experience this summer as a together-family.
It was a busy summer, full of travel, frisbee, and projects around the house (we rebuilt the front stairs and walkway, redecorated Constance's bedroom, and built a deck for les Mamans). Finally, in the last week or so before the Return to Work, we settled down into true Vacation territory, and began to establish a nice domestic routine. It involved plenty of strolling, some working out, playing on blankets, and delicious suppers. And plenty of this:
This routine has been serving Tim and I well this week so far. We all wake up around the same time, and enjoy a morning together with diaper changes, breakfast for all, and coffee for parents. When Dad leaves for work, Mom and Tim go for a stroll, wherein Tim sleeps and Mom parks herself in a nearby park and reads. There is playtime with Tim on the floor, chore time with Tim in the wrap (on Mom), and then more stroller-time to mellow Tim out so Mom can have a workout. Of some sort.
Details, details. Suffice to say, it's all going rather smoothly, and Tim is a charming fellow who wins my heart daily.
I do have to say, the summer of Dad being home was an incredible gift -- one that I think we'll all find to be quite lasting. It's the topic of another post (one that I doubt I'll get around to), to explain how sharing the reigns for a few months will help us be better parents together, and help me to give up control in the best possible way. (For the record, I believe that new moms, by definition, are control freaks. It's sort of necessary, but also sort of a result of how families tend to work these days...) And I haven't even gotten to reconnecting as a couple... A whole other topic!
Anyway, the fall of 2009 promises to have new and exciting adventures - travel, food, writing, some serious cuteness, and possibly even some air guitar.
Monday, August 31, 2009
A holy cave
The other day I ran out of memory on the disk in our camera, so I popped it into the computer to clean it out. It had pictures and videos from the past year. I was surprised to discover a series of three video files documenting the actual birth of Timothy. There I was, up close and personal, delivering Tim. I assume the second midwife took the footage, because McPie was there holding my head/hands, and Nadia's gloved ones hovered occasionally, checking heartrates and whatnot. (When I showed it to McPie, it was new as well because it was taken from, er, the opposite angle.)
I wouldn't have thought I'd have wanted that event videotaped. But I am so glad to have it. My memory of the event is so limited -- limited to about a six inch radius around my head (visually), and the completely primeval instincts that made my body go. I've been creating "memories" based on McPie's recollections of it, but my own recollection consists of just sensory perceptions.
On reviewing the footage, one of the things that strikes me about the event is the serenity of it. The room is darkened, I'm relaxing (er, "relaxing") in a large tub of water. There is minimal speaking; when there is talk, it is a calm murmuring. At a certain point, Tim's head is completely exposed, and we are all just relaxing quietly, waiting for the final contraction that will expel the rest of his body from mine. When it happens, he is suddenly wholly in the world, and instantly slid into my arms. (And I say, totally stunned, "It's a baby!" Like I was expecting some other conclusion to my trial?) The video ends with the yet unnamed "Mister Little Baby" still in my arms... where he stayed until it was time to deliver his placenta. At which point the midwives bade McPie to take off his shirt, so that MLB could be transferred to his arms without missing out on any skin-to-skin contact. It was hours later that Nadia returned to weigh the baby, and check him out (other than the initial Apgar, which was performed while I held him in the water).
I wouldn't have thought I'd have wanted that event videotaped. But I am so glad to have it. My memory of the event is so limited -- limited to about a six inch radius around my head (visually), and the completely primeval instincts that made my body go. I've been creating "memories" based on McPie's recollections of it, but my own recollection consists of just sensory perceptions.
On reviewing the footage, one of the things that strikes me about the event is the serenity of it. The room is darkened, I'm relaxing (er, "relaxing") in a large tub of water. There is minimal speaking; when there is talk, it is a calm murmuring. At a certain point, Tim's head is completely exposed, and we are all just relaxing quietly, waiting for the final contraction that will expel the rest of his body from mine. When it happens, he is suddenly wholly in the world, and instantly slid into my arms. (And I say, totally stunned, "It's a baby!" Like I was expecting some other conclusion to my trial?) The video ends with the yet unnamed "Mister Little Baby" still in my arms... where he stayed until it was time to deliver his placenta. At which point the midwives bade McPie to take off his shirt, so that MLB could be transferred to his arms without missing out on any skin-to-skin contact. It was hours later that Nadia returned to weigh the baby, and check him out (other than the initial Apgar, which was performed while I held him in the water).
I am reminded how lucky we were, to have the experience of delivering Tim in what McPie says felt like a "holy cave". No bright lights, no extra voices, no hands whisking him away for "medical" stuff.
And I'm completely amazed at how this:
Suddenly became this.
And in a blink of an eye, I'll be posting a picture of him walking to school on his first day...
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Zen and the art of sleep management
I have decided to find a sense of zen when it comes to Timothy's sleeping patterns. (As much as one can "decide" to be zen.) It occurred to me today. There are endless "sleep solution" books out there, each proclaiming to have THE answer to you baby's inability to sleep (or more likely, the books would have it, your inability to get your baby to sleep).
Sleep solutions, I have decided, are like religions. The followers of each believe that their way is THE way. Well, I've opted out of religion, so I'm opting out of solving Tim's sleep, too. So there.
Which isn't to say I'm not going to try hard to get Tim to nap, or go to bed at a decent hour, or sleep as much as possible in the night. Of course we'll do that; it's common sense. Common sense! What a concept! I got a piece of advice about baby sleep early on from a good friend, which basically boils down to: put him to bed when he's tired; if he cries, pick him up to reassure him that it's okay, but then put him back down. And repeat until he gets used to just falling asleep on the first go. Kinda makes sense, huh? Like, common sense? Yet at the time, it kind of sounded like rocket science to me, because it's so simple. And I'd been prepared for "getting baby to sleep" to actually be about as complex as rocket science. At any rate, this is the advice I have used, and it works (as much as anything baby-related works). Thank you, Trix!
(Turns out, having flipped through a few "sleep solution" guides, this is the sort information they are providing. With a lot of marketing spin.)
Anyway, I'm going to be thinking more of Tim as a person rather than something to be managed. (Granted, a person who's not very good at acting on his fatigue.) If he gets hungry in the night, I'll feed him. If he needs to be attached to me in order to get the nap he needs during the day, I'll put him in the wrap. He's going to be beyond the baby stage, beyond the napping stage, so soon that I won't even remember what sort of sleep solution worked for us.
But anyway, when you're this cute after waking up from a nap, who cares if the nap was only 20 minutes long?
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I should note that I can say all this because I'm not sleep deprived any more. Relatively speaking, anyway. I get up once or twice in the night with Tim, and it doesn't seem to affect my day. So whatever is it we're doing -- even if the baby isn't sleeping from seven to seven each night -- is probably good enough for us.
I should also note that the thoughts described in this post were triggered by an encounter with a mom (of a little one almost exactly Tim's age, also her firstborn) who knew exactly what I should do to get my kid to do what her kid is doing, and told me so (on feeding, sleep solving, losing the babyweight, the whole deal). Grrr. Arrgh. I was so bugged. And even more so because I thought of all my comebacks later (while I was running circles around her on the frisbee field. Ha.)
Final note: if I've ever said anything to a mom that indicated -- in words or tone -- that I knew better, or disapproved of your way, or anything of the sort, I sincerely apologize and promise to try to never do it again. This shit is personal!
Sleep solutions, I have decided, are like religions. The followers of each believe that their way is THE way. Well, I've opted out of religion, so I'm opting out of solving Tim's sleep, too. So there.
Which isn't to say I'm not going to try hard to get Tim to nap, or go to bed at a decent hour, or sleep as much as possible in the night. Of course we'll do that; it's common sense. Common sense! What a concept! I got a piece of advice about baby sleep early on from a good friend, which basically boils down to: put him to bed when he's tired; if he cries, pick him up to reassure him that it's okay, but then put him back down. And repeat until he gets used to just falling asleep on the first go. Kinda makes sense, huh? Like, common sense? Yet at the time, it kind of sounded like rocket science to me, because it's so simple. And I'd been prepared for "getting baby to sleep" to actually be about as complex as rocket science. At any rate, this is the advice I have used, and it works (as much as anything baby-related works). Thank you, Trix!
(Turns out, having flipped through a few "sleep solution" guides, this is the sort information they are providing. With a lot of marketing spin.)
Anyway, I'm going to be thinking more of Tim as a person rather than something to be managed. (Granted, a person who's not very good at acting on his fatigue.) If he gets hungry in the night, I'll feed him. If he needs to be attached to me in order to get the nap he needs during the day, I'll put him in the wrap. He's going to be beyond the baby stage, beyond the napping stage, so soon that I won't even remember what sort of sleep solution worked for us.
But anyway, when you're this cute after waking up from a nap, who cares if the nap was only 20 minutes long?
.JPG)
I should note that I can say all this because I'm not sleep deprived any more. Relatively speaking, anyway. I get up once or twice in the night with Tim, and it doesn't seem to affect my day. So whatever is it we're doing -- even if the baby isn't sleeping from seven to seven each night -- is probably good enough for us.
I should also note that the thoughts described in this post were triggered by an encounter with a mom (of a little one almost exactly Tim's age, also her firstborn) who knew exactly what I should do to get my kid to do what her kid is doing, and told me so (on feeding, sleep solving, losing the babyweight, the whole deal). Grrr. Arrgh. I was so bugged. And even more so because I thought of all my comebacks later (while I was running circles around her on the frisbee field. Ha.)
Final note: if I've ever said anything to a mom that indicated -- in words or tone -- that I knew better, or disapproved of your way, or anything of the sort, I sincerely apologize and promise to try to never do it again. This shit is personal!
Monday, August 24, 2009
Diva of distinction
The profile of Meagan McGrath and accompanying video interview is up on the Diva Foundation web site. Read it here!
My first interview experience... only slightly awkward, and made less so by the expert editing of Darren, who I look forward to collaborating with in the future!
Did I mention how much I enjoyed writing something that was non-technical and non-academic and not-about-me? I'm looking forward to the next one (I don't actually know who the next Diva of Distinction will be. Any suggestions?)
My first interview experience... only slightly awkward, and made less so by the expert editing of Darren, who I look forward to collaborating with in the future!
Did I mention how much I enjoyed writing something that was non-technical and non-academic and not-about-me? I'm looking forward to the next one (I don't actually know who the next Diva of Distinction will be. Any suggestions?)
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