Just around the corner

The start of a new year always leads me to reflect on the previous twelve months. Last year I made a list of the "Top Ten Photos of 2005". That really was a good year--we did lots of cool things and accomplished a lot of goals. I don't feel quite the same way about 2006; in fact, I'm pretty happy to see it go. We did do some big things, like having a baby and moving. But overall I didn't feel very happy for most of the year. Master Fob had to work a lot. Recovering from the shock of having two kids took much longer than I expected. And I'm not much closer to having a master's degree than I was a year ago.

On the other hand, I am looking forward to 2007. We're getting settled in to Seattle and it's starting to feel a bit more like home now. I feel a lot more comfortable with having two kids, and Little Dude is more of a human and less of a screaming grubworm now. S-Boogie is starting preschool next week and tomorrow marks her last day in Nursery, so I think this will be a year of big changes for her. Hopefully her preschool time will give me more free hours to work on my thesis, and I feel well enough mentally to actually do it now.

I have often fallen into the trap of assuming that I'll be happier any time I'm in a new situation. I know I'll wake up on Monday morning with the same problems in my life. I'll probably still have some bad days as well as some good ones. But I do like the new year because it marks a natural point to set some goals and try again on some things. I think it's especially cool this year because New Year's Day is also a Monday, so hopefully we can start the week and the year off on a good note. I also think that staying up on Sunday night to watch movies and eat caramel popcorn is another good way to start the year off right. We'll have to see if it works.

The Seventh Month

Wow, seven months have come and gone since Little Dude came crashing into the world. This last one flew by particularly fast, and it doesn't feel like a lot has changed since he was six months old. He still has no desire to sit up, which makes bathtime difficult and causes me to compare him too much to his older sister and other babies his age. But, sitting up will eventually come I guess. Right now he's too busy rolling all over the living room, eating the edges of the rug and all the pine needles from the pathetically crispy Christmas tree we really need to take down. He's also become quite talkative this month and loves to carry on little "ba ba ba" conversations with all of us. S-Boogie is starting to interact more with her little brother as well, and a few times I've seen them giggling hysterically at each other. Little Dude is still a bit cranky and doesn't like nap time much, but his disposition is so much better than it was just a few months ago. I think part of his new-found cheerfulness comes from a full tummy; he's taken quite well to bottle feeding, and so far I've still been able to nurse a little at bedtime and in the wee hours of the morning. He still loves to eat solid food and as soon as he sees someone approach with his bowl and bib he starts shaking with excitement. He does the same thing when I'm mixing up a bottle and usually grabs it and tries to shove it in his mouth himself, even with the cap on. I've noticed his cognitive skills developing in another way--whenever he's on the floor playing he'll make a beeline for any new toy or object in his path. If you offer him something he hasn't played with before and something old, he'll pick the new thing every time. Seven months old and already a picky consumer of entertainment. I guess it starts young these days.

Wherein the wrong lesson is learned

As is her usual custom, S-Boogie refused to eat her dinner and excused herself from the table. She came back a few minutes later looking rather downcast and wiping at her nose. She announced "I have something in my nose" (at least she's an honest little soul), and my heart sank because I remembered the string of beads that had broken earlier today. I thought I had picked up all the beads, but apparently I missed one. Don't worry, S-Boogie found it and discovered that it fit perfectly into her nostril. With the help of a flashlight, we were able to see it and realize that it was a little t00 far up there to attempt safe removal ourselves. After a phone consultation with the doctor's office, we were sent to the emergency room at Children's Hospital (just up the road from our house, thankfully). Our ER visit was nice and low-key, and the staff really is good about catering to children. We were only there an hour or so total, which isn't bad at all. They had snacks for parents and lots of crayons, paper, and Cars on TV for the kids. When the doctor did appear, the procedure only took less than a minute and he didn't even have to do anything. Tonight I learned "The Big Kiss", which is the secret to preventing ER visits for foreign bodies in the nose. You have someone hold the child's head steady and plug the nostril that is not affected. Then you take a deep breath, seal your mouth over the child's mouth, and blow in very hard. The bead popped right out (so did a lot of snot all over my cheek). It was a little weird, but I'm still grateful I didn't try tweezers or anything at home.

Unfortunately, I'm afraid that the only thing S-Boogie learned from the whole experience is that sticking things up your nose means that you get to go to a place where they give you juice and stickers, let you watch TV, and reward you with a brand-new Beanie Baby when you are done. Now that I know the secret procedure, she won't be so lucky next time.

A Good Holiday

I had been somewhat hesitant about spending our Christmas here without any family members or friends near enough to share it. But it turns out that we can have a lot of fun all by ourselves (not that we don't miss you all very much). S-Boogie and I spent most of Saturday making cookies; she's quite good at applying sprinkles. Sunday evening we drove all over passing them out to friends. We also had dinner on Sunday with friends from our ward; S-Boogie had a great time playing with her little friends. Sunday evening was a highlight for her because we finally found Baby Jesus for her to go see. I had found a listing for a living nativity at a church that would be on our way home from cookie delivery, so we stopped by to see what was going on. It turns out that they had a full-on pageant that you could watch from your car. We got there just as a performance was starting, and S-Boogie was entranced by the donkey, the giant star that lit up above the stable, and the fact that Mary, Joseph, the Shepherds, and even the Three Kings were live and in person right in front of her. She went to bed late and slept in until eight this morning, so that was one of our favorite Christmas gifts.

This morning we opened presents after breakfast and S-Boogie was thrilled by her new dolly and accessories that I found for her. She got me some lovely rose-print tissues and fancy soap from the gift shop Master Fob works at, and keeps urging me to use the tissues. I think my favorite present is the gift certificate for a massage that I got from Master Fob. I can't wait to use it, although it will be a week or two before the massage school is back in session. We had some friends come over for dinner and S-Boogie got to play with another of her nursery friends. My chocolate cake roll with peppermint ice cream was a big hit and now we're going to go watch more of Season Nine of The Simpsons (thank you Svoid), so I guess it's been a good day. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

Who knew?

Apparently last night was "Stay Up All Night and Harrass Your Parents Night". Nobody told me about it.

(It was also "Eat String Cheese at 2 AM Night", but at least it wasn't "Unwrap Your Christmas Presents Early Night" or "Play With Knives Night".)

Indebtedness

After getting today's mail, we now have an enormous pile of presents that is threatening to crawl out from under the Christmas tree and take over the living room. I'm overwhelmed by the generosity of our friends and family, and I feel humbled that all we give them in return is an over-long Christmas letter and a bad photo of us. I hope they know how much we love and appreciate them and all they do for us, even though we can never pay them back in the same way. It's also fun to see how excited S-Boogie is about Christmas this year. She really wants to open her presents, but she's also in love with Christmas itself and the idea of Baby Jesus.

In a sort-of related comment, I am feeling really jealous after reading the Christmas letter we received from friends who are living in Honolulu right now. They will only be there for a year, so I imagine that that fact makes them even more grateful for the opportunity, but I'm still envious of their ability to go to the beach on a daily basis. I would love to move to Hawaii when we're done with school here, but Master Fob isn't keen on the idea. I can totally see his point of view: the cost of housing is very, very high there and the job market isn't that great; wages don't keep up with the cost of living at nearly the same rate they do in other areas; and I know that Hawaii isn't neccesarily the paradise a lot of people think it is--there's a lot of poverty, the public schools are kind of mediocre, and racial tension exists (especially for little white kids like ours). We'd probably still be stretching for money, and we're getting tired of that already. But we have family and friends there that would love to have us live nearby, espcially Master Fob's mom. I love the friendliness and cultural diversity of the islands. And I love the weather. I spent most of my formative years in Southern California, and even after ten years in Utah I still don't like winter. I don't think I'd miss seasons very much, especially when I can go sockless year round. If only the state would start paying librarians a couple hundred thousand a year. That would be nice.

Five days and counting

We finished up our Christmas letter, and Master Fob will stop at the Post Office today after work to send it on its way to our friends and relatives. We managed to do it with surprisingly little stress this year, having finally learned some lessons from previous years. Like don't try and print the entire thing plus envelopes and mail it all in one afternoon. That's not good for family harmony. I was a little disappointed in our photo this year, though Tolkien Boy and Sir Jupiter did an admirable job trying to capture the elusive S-Boogie. Quality photos were made impossible by bad lighting in our apartment, our crazy schedule and the crazy weather that prevented us from going somewhere nice to take the photo, uncooperative small children, and the fact that Skye is in Morocco and doesn't have a telephoto lens that big. Maybe next year will be a better year for photos. I also hope people won't be freaked out by our two-page letter this year. We'll try and condense more for next year; hopefully next year won't be quite so eventful.

We also finished up our Christmas shopping, which really didn't take much time or effort. I don't think my stuff from craigslist was that good a deal, but the lady was nice enough to deliver it to our house. I'm excited for S-Boogie to get her present, and I'm actually having a hard time holding off on opening all the cool gifts that friends and family have showered us with this year.

Our Christmas tree stopped sucking up water the other day and is now starting to get crunchy. Next year we will definitely not be lazy and will get a fresher tree from a private tree lot or even a farm. The grocery store may be close, but the trees aren't fresh.

Now I just need to plan the Christmas baking and cookie delivering. Our ward is actually meeting on Sunday morning instead of afternoon (hooray) so we may go do cookies on Christmas Eve after all. I'm just debating because we have friends that live 45 minutes away, and I don't want to crash their family party. Usually we just drop cookies, sing a song, and go away, but if we drive out that far I wouldn't mind stopping in and chatting for a little bit. We'll have to decide on that one.

And we're making gingerbread houss (well, graham cracker houses) tonight! I love Christmas!

Mission Accomplished

Well, sort of. This afternoon we had to get a prescription filled at the drugstore, so I took the opportunity to help S-Boogie pick out a present for Daddy. While we were there I found something fun that I think he'll like, and it's not a book or CD, so I'm proud of myself. And I contacted a lady from craigslist this morning about buying a set of doll toys she had listed. It's a stroller, high chair, and a baby doll that comes with some play food, play binkies, and a play toothbrush and toothpaste. She's been advertising the set for a while, but had it listed at fifty bucks, which seemed like a lot to me. She recently dropped the price a bit, so I decided to go for it. The stroller and high chair are from Little Tikes, so good quality plastic, and after doing some research I realized that the stroller alone was at least twenty dollars new. And it's going to be S-Boogie's main big present (and her only one from us), so I guess it's worth it. We got Little Dude a Jumperoo off craigslist a few weeks ago, so I'm going to count that as his present for this year. We'll let him crinkle the wrapping paper and that'll make his Christmas bright. Now all we have left to do this next week is make gingerbread houses, find a living nativity to visit (S-Boogie really wants to go see baby Jesus), and make treats to take to all our friends. Oh, and get a present for Svoid, since we have his name this year. And I kind of want to get my family a present. And we need to get the Christmas letter finished up and mailed. And...I guess I'm not really ready for Christmas after all. Oh well, we're a little bit closer than we were before.

Switching Over

I just switched over to Blogger Beta. It was a little scary, but so far everything is fine. I got sick of not being able to comment on everyone else's blogs as FoxyJ. The only difference is that on Master Fob's family blog I'll be Foxy instead of my real name. But whatever. They know who I am.

We also have switched Little Dude over to formula, more or less. For right now I'm still nursing him about 3 times a day, plus any times at night. Well, we're trying to cut out the night feedings and he's been doing a great job this week. He got up at five this morning, so I went ahead and fed him since he'd been asleep most of the night. So far things seem to be working really well. When he does nurse, I'm usually pretty full and he doesn't get fussy. And he doesn't mind the bottles at all, even though I think I want to get better ones next time we have a little extra money. We got the cheapest ones available at Target, and turns out they really aren't as great as the fancy ones we've tried before. Oh well, they still get the food into his tummy.

It turns out that he really isn't such a crankypants when he has a full tummy. He's actually a really funny little guy who now plays with his toys instead of spending most of his time chewing on his hand and whining. He also sleeps much better now too. The difference is amazing. I really don't feel much guilt about it at all, because it's really obvious that this is the best choice for him. And so far I've been able to keep up my milk enough for a few snacks throughout the day. We'll see how long that lasts, but I'd rather do gradual weaning if I can. Now I just need to learn how to like the smell of formula. It still makes me gag, especially when it reappears as spitup.

Foxy the Iconoclast

The other day we were putting up our Christmas decorations and S-Boogie asked about the stockings. She thought they were pretty cool, and of course asked what they were for. I started to say that Santa would fill them with goodies, but I couldn't say it. It's not true--Santa doesn't exist and it's Mom and Dad who will fill them with treats (she'll probably actually get some real candy this year too). So I told her something like "When you wake up on Christmas morning, there will be treats in your stocking". I just couldn't tell her that Santa will be bringing her stuff.

Every Christmas the Santa issue raises it's head again. It's a complicated one for me, and my response to it is evolving and will keep evolving as my kids get older. Part of the problem is that I'm really bad at pretending to believe something that I don't. I'm a terrible actress, I can't lie to save my life, and I always feel uncomfortable on Halloween because I really don't like dressing up. It just makes me feel weird. I can't get enthusiastic about Santa because he doesn't exist, and I have a hard time pretending that he does. I don't really remember ever believing in Santa. He wasn't a big deal in my house, and though each Christmas morning we'd awake to full stockings and one unwrapped present that was ostensibly from him, I didn't feel thrilled by the magic of some random fat man breaking into my house to leave stuff for me. Besides, how could he really manufacture My Little Ponies in his workshop when "Made in Hong Kong" is stamped on their little hooves? I was never much into magic as a kid--I preferred to read nonfiction and never touched fantasy books until I got talked into reading Lord of the Rings a few years ago (I did enjoy it, by the way). Santa was kept low-key in my house, and we didn't do the Easter Bunny at all. We did do the Tooth Fairy, but I never really got excited about that one either.

Of course, my mom is the one who didn't tell us about Halloween for years because she didn't want us to have the candy. I'm actually very grateful to her for keeping our Christmas traditions centered around Christ and serving other people. I think all of us who grew up in my family remember things like getting out the fifty bazillion nativity sets, having a party to decorate the tree, driving around to see the lights, and baking cookies to take to our friends and neighbors. To me, that's what Christmas is all about. I know a lot of people say that Santa is all about giving and stuff, but it's not for me. I don't like the commercial aspect of it, the encouraging kids to earn their presents through good behavior, the general focus on stuff. When I asked S-Boogie what she wanted for Christmas this year, she replied "A tree". Well, we got one. Mission accomplished.

At the same time, I'm trying hard not to be the Grinch who spoils Christmas for other people. What I'm trying to do is downplay Santa and play up the other aspects of the season. I choose not to take S-Boogie to the mall to see him, but I'm not going to picket him or anything like that. We don't have Santa decorations, except for a Santa hat that S-Boogie loves wearing. She likes it because she thinks it's a nightcap like the one Pooh wears. Her grandma sent her a very nice nativity set that she can play with, and she is now obsessed with her "shepherds" and her very own baby Jesus (thank you, grandma, by the way).

So far S-Boogie has not asked to go to the mall to see Santa, because she doesn't really know about him yet. The other day, however, she was praying and asked very fervently to "get to go see Baby Jesus". Hmm, we'll have to see what we can do about that one...

It's beginning to look (and smell) a lot like Christmas

For the first few years of marriage we had a tiny little artificial tree that we bought while living in Wymount, which forbids real trees lest they burn down the cinderblocks and cement. Finally, last year, we got a real tree and I remembered why I love them so much. This year I had hoped to start a new tradition by venturing out to a tree farm. However, with school and all the other things going on in our lives, a good day for a tree hunt has had trouble materializing. We had planned to go tomorrow, but the weather website predicts "heavy rain" for the entire day and the next few days as well, so tonight I gave up my romantic ideas and had Master Fob walk over to the grocery store to get us a tree. It turns out that it doesn't matter where the tree comes from--it still looks and smells wonderful in the corner of your living room. And it also turns out that my plastic candy canes from Pic N Save are still holding up after all these years and they are perfect for little people who like to decorate trees. S-Boogie is in love with the tree and I am too. Outside it may be frightful, but inside it's quite delightful with our beautiful grocery store Christmas tree.

The Dilemma

Little Dude had his six-month check up on Thursday. He now weighs exactly sixteen pounds, which puts him the 20th percentile or so for weight. That simply means that 80 percent of babies his age weigh more than he does, and 20 percent weigh less. That's really not all that bad, and our pediatrician isn't worried about him. But I am starting to worry a bit. You see, his weight and height were in the 75th percentile at his two month check up. He's been slowly falling down the chart for the last four months. He was also weighed in October at the county health office. If their scale was correct, he weighed 15 pounds then and has only gained one pound in the last two months.

I know everything about how some kids are just small and gain weight more slowly. S-Boogie only weighed about 17 pounds when she turned one, and even now at nearly three-and-a-half she barely hits 30. She's just a small person, and always has been. Her weight has stayed pretty consistently in the 10th percentile or so for her whole life. I also don't worry about Little Dude's development or anything. He's bright and friendly with people; he rolls both ways and can get himself across the living room and back; he can pick up objects, pass them back and forth, and put them in his mouth. He loves solid food and has gobbled up everything we've given him, even avocados. That's what's worrying me--I'm afraid my baby isn't getting enough to eat.

That is one of the central anxieties of breastfeeding--you never know how much your child is taking in. But there are plenty of signs you can watch for to make sure they are OK. And Little Dude is bright eyed and smooth skinned, so he's not totally undernourished. But he's also still chronically cranky and doesn't sleep well anymore. For the last month or so, feedings have turned into a battleground. He'll latch on and nurse for a few minutes. Then he'll pull away and scream at me, latch on again for bit and wrestle around, then pull off and scream some more. I'll try the other side with the same results. Usually we'll end the feeding in less that ten minutes; me, frustrated and him chomping on his hands, chomping on my shirt, and screaming at me. It could just be teething, but it's been this way for several weeks. It feels like an extended growth spurt, but no matter how many extra feedings or extra pumpings I add, the only thing we get is sore nipples and an angry baby. The other day I made him a four-ounce bottle of formula about half an hour after feeding him, and he grabbed it and drained it in about five minutes.

I'm getting really, really tempted to just switch over to bottles. At the same time, I'm nervous about making the wrong decision. I know breastmilk is the healthiest option for my baby; it's also the most convenient at five in the morning and it's definitely cheaper than the alternative. But, what's best for the baby may not be what's best for the whole family. Parenting is all about balancing needs, and though I usually try to give my kids' needs priority, sometimes mine have to come first. Because a happy, healthy mommy is also a need for children. And mentally, I can't handle too many more times of wrestling with an angry little monkey trying to chew my boobs off. I've also been realizing that I want to try antidepressants again, and I don't want to wait six more months for Little Dude to wean. I know there are some that I can take while breastfeeding, but I think the peace of mind from not trying to combine the two would help my stress level. And I really hope that my gut feeling that Little Dude will be happier if I give him more calories during the day is right. Because that would mean peace of mind for both of us.

Can't get it out of my head...

Ever since this story broke out earlier this week I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. Maybe it's the fact that I have kids practically the same ages. Maybe it's just the sheer randomness of the whole thing. I just keep thinking of what it must have been like, the terror increasing incrementally as you miss your turnoff, make a wrong turn, lose your cellphone reception, etc. I don't blame the guy for setting out on his own--I probably would have done the same thing.

I also find it interesting how every so often some tragedy or another makes the news for a while, and then we never hear any more about what happened. I always wonder what happens to people years later, after the news fades and they are no longer "current events". I think of some of the traffic accidents I've come across and wish I knew what happened to the people involved. I hope that this woman and her children will be all right some day. They'll never be the same, but I hope they eventually find some kind of peace and the strength to go on.

And if you want to read something beautiful, read this. If I can't be eloquent, at least I can link to people who are.

I really should be writing my thesis right now

And not blogging. Or, even worse, checking plane ticket costs on Farecast. If you haven't tried that website, you really should. It's really cool; I especially like the graph section for flexible dates. And I really should not be finding out that if I left tomorrow I could fly to Honolulu for only $348 round trip. Or only $197 for a trip to Vegas. Sigh.

I'd better get back to writing right now...

Book Reviews: Mothers and Daughters

Hillbilly Gothic by Adrienne Martini
This is a memoir about a woman who checks herself into the psych ward two weeks after having a baby, and what her troubles with depression lead her to find out about her family heritage and herself. It was well-written and I found a lot of her insights interesting, but overall I wasn't very wowed by this book. One of my fears in writing a memoir would be that my life really wasn't that interesting to other people; I think in some ways some of this book feels that way to me. More women need to speak out about depression, but I felt like too often she was talking around things in such a way that I didn't get a very good sense of what was going on. But it was still a good read and I would recommend it to anyone who likes to read memoir.

West of Then by Tara Bray Smith
Another memoir, this time by a woman who grew up in Hawaii. She alternates between the present problem of trying to track down her mom, who is now a homeless junkie in Honolulu, and life growing up in Hawaii as a white girl with a very dysfunctional family. She also puts in a lot of interesting things about the history of Hawaii and how her family has managed to go from owning half of Kauai to having a descendent who lives on the streets (but with very little sense of "poor haole" sentiment or entitlement). The writing is really well-done and she does a good job trying to make sense of her life and that of her mother. This book actually made me very grateful that my parents made different choices and that I didn't end up in the same situation. It can be sad to see how so many adults are so selfish with their lives.

The Ghost in the House by Tracy Thompson
This is a book I am now going to start recommending to most women I know. Go read it, now. Thompson has written another memoir on depression, which I found interesting but not one of my favorites. This time, she decided to write about her experience with being depressed while raising her children. Instead of just writing a memoir, she got together with a professor from Emory University and conducted a survey of women with depression. While acknowledging that their sample size is limited and not representative of some socio-economic groups, the insights they found are fascinating. More than anything, they emphasize the fact that maternal depression manifests itself differently from depression among other people and that it should still be recognized. For example, most mothers who are depressed look like they are coping. Even if they want to totally withdraw from others, they really can't. Motherhood is one of the only full-time jobs where you can't quit, and most days not showing up isn't an option. Depression is a dysfunctional reaction to stress, and mothering is one of the most stressful jobs out there. The book outlines various ways that depression manifests itself in mothers ("hyperirritability" sound familiar to anyone?) and what they can do to cope. I found the chapter on generational patterns most interesting. The problem with depression, like many illnesses, is that it can be genetic. But, as she points out, genes don't have to determine your fate. Coping strategies are also passed on from parents to children, and it's important to learn good coping strategies and teach them to your children. She actually mentions the "optimistic child" book a few times and the author's findings on "learned optimism". Anyways, this review is way too long. I loved this book--it manages to be personal and general at the same time. It also manages to convey the importance of getting help and dealing with your problems without inducing guilt (at least it didn't for me). More than anything, it reminded me once again that I'm not alone in my weirdness and that I'm not a failure.

What we need

We need fewer talks about how motherhood is a high and noble calling and more about how motherhood sometimes means that your hands smell like poop and your shirt has avocado spit up on it.