Death By Consignment Shop

So maybe I'm a little obsessed. I love value and so I get stuff that seems to be a great value to, you know, save money. But am I really saving money? I mean, am I?

Still, isn't this one cool looking toy for a baby? And El Esposo is not too bad at cutting hair so there's a fair trade-off. And the baby has been getting angry at any toy that does not help her stand up lately. This one does (we tried it). I'm all about reducing her rage and diminishing her criminal impulses.

Becoming Mommy (part two: post partum)

I've decided not to get into this so much but I think I can now say that I had some post-partum depression when little A was born. In comparison to some, it was quite mild, but it was nonetheless awful for a little while.

Okay, cool, just had to get that off my chest. Probably more to come later. I am so grateful that period in my life is over (and in fact it did not last that long) though I feel so much more empathy for people with depression. Seriously, big sinkholes full of empathy. Big fat cenotes.

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Here's the "more to come" and never mind I guess I am going to get into it. I figure maybe a summary would be educational. From the brief bit I've read about it there is quite a spectrum of post-partum depression and I was lucky enough to be on the short-lived end of things. The end where you think maybe it's just baby blues plus seasonal affected disorder plus I had a colicky newborn plus everyone else is a better mom than me. Except that last part is not true. I am at least average.

Anyway, I'm a little jealous that El Esposo felt such an immediate love and connection for our little sweetie pie from her first cry when she was only halfway out. Here I had felt the little monster dance and perform acrobatics and kick and head butt my bladder and I had read a bajillion books and researched the crap out of all the things we needed to be prepared for her and scoured craigslist and felt that I loved her so much already but at that moment I just felt TIRED. And after that I felt pleased by her adorableness and watching her with "daddy" but also just HEAVY with the responsibility of eighteen years plus forever. Now that I step back, I do think a lot of the bits of happiness I did feel came more from El Esposo at the beginning. I never felt completely removed from him. He was kind of my way of accessing the world I think. Anyway, it probably did not help that I was in a lot of physical pain for the first two months of her life due to major tearing.

The main thing was the first three weeks when I felt something I had never felt before, and that something was NOTHING. No appetite or ability to taste anything, no excitement, definitely none of this "euphoria" which I seem to read about everywhere. Most of the time no sadness either. Just a lack, an emptiness where feeling is supposed to go. And it weighed on me. I felt almost constantly aware of not caring about anything. I knew it was the hormones, though, because it came in these waves that I could feel physically. One minute, I felt like I could at least have a normal conversation. I could at least smile, or even fake it. Then, suddenly, it felt like all the window shades in our house being shut simultaneously and I had just enough time to think, "Oh no!" before it started. I have never before or since felt the physical impossibility of a smile like I did during those, I guess "episodes."

I remember playing a game with my parents (they visited during the first two weeks) and having no desire to win or use any kind of strategy or be annoyed by anything anyone else did, which is the opposite of my normal experience (I was brought up in a hyper-competitive board game-loving family). I had a hard time with breastfeeding and I felt sort of numb and also sort of useless as a human. The poor baby was starving because I wasn't producing enough so she cried and cried and cried and would not sleep. Finally we started supplementing but at first she wouldn't take the bottle from me and so she would go back to crying constantly and not sleeping if no one else was around, and me feeling useless some more. Once we were past that hurdle, she got colicky and we found out she had acid reflux. And this was the pattern, or so it kept seeming, that new challenges kept popping up and I felt in a constant state of oh-crap-did-I-make-a-mistake-with-this-precious-life-what-is-wrong-with-me. I knew absolutely that these challenges were seeming worse than they were (they were quite normal, though certainly not ideal) because I was depressed.

There was no doubt in my mind I was depressed, I just didn't know what to call it: Baby Blues? PPD? SAD (thanks winter for snowing more than any other year)? Another time I remember going out to dinner with my parents and El Esposo and the sleeping baby and ordering something I barely ate any of and participating in the conversation like an outsider, almost like I was watching a movie and occasionally commenting on the action on screen. Since I didn't feel like eating or talking, I found that after I drank three straight glasses of water I started to feel better, as in slightly closer to normal. So the most basic necessity of life became even more a necessity to me. When I felt the wave coming I would grab a glass of water and hope for the best.

About three weeks in I talked to El Esposo about it and said I thought maybe I was starting to get better as the breaks in the clouds I felt were seeming longer. He asked me what I wanted to do if I did not get better soon. DRUGS, I said. I had no qualms. There was no doubt in my mind that I could not properly care for a baby by myself feeling like I did. I was helped immensely by El Esposo at this time. It was perfect that he was able to take a full five weeks off at work. If he hadn't been able to, I have no idea how little A and I would have survived. To say I love that man is a gross understatement.

But here's the lucky thing: I started to feel better. Not a lot better, but enough, and for the most part a little more myself each day. Even as the baby's fussiness was actually getting worse, my ability to cope with it got better. Sure, sometimes I cried right along with her, but it felt normal. I could step back from myself and see that I just felt tired, not sapped of feeling. So I never got the drugs. But, I guarantee you that I would have. That is not a darkness I want to weather any longer than absolutely necessary. I know it can go on for a couple of years for some women and I am so sorry for them and I honestly hope the zoloft is doing its job. Because if it is not getting any better, take the zoloft, honey. Or exercise, or get a babysitter, whatever you need.

Anyway, at some point during all that mess I started to feel like a mom. I could look at my baby and just smile and smile. The way you are supposed to. The way it seemed like all the other new moms around me were from day one. It was maybe two months or three, though to be honest a little bit of it did linger, possibly to six months--it's hard to know. Actually, at first I was really annoyed with the other moms for being so happy and content. I know I only saw the surface and they probably had a hard time with some things too, but even so I do realize now that my experience really was a little different than most and there's no need to be annoyed with the others as I do not wish them to have my experience. I probably was in that unlucky 10%, or maybe the unreported other, which I am sure there is a lot of, that experience post-partum depression symptoms. I guess the only way to really know for sure is see if I feel different next time.

So there you have it. It could have been much worse, and what do I know maybe it is even more common than I am aware and it's going to be like that next time too. At least I'll know what to expect and know that one day soon I am going to be completely in love with the little munchkin. Also my daughter is awesome and has the most darling giggle which is my very favorite sound.

photo shoot #one thousandy three

Right after this she demanded I put her on the floor so she could eat some paper. (Note to self: no, the office is still not babyproofed.)

challenge #6

is up at the songwriting challenge blog.

Birthday = Awesome

It's really true. Though I admit my standards have lowered a bit (e.g., getting to go on a babyless date? coolest thing ever). Saturday we went "hiking" with some friends. The quotes are because we managed -- what -- half a mile? Anyway it was great fun to spend time outside in the sweltering heat with people we like and cute babies like this one:
Pictured with "Auntie E" (not actual Aunt)

And this one:
(Yeah not the best picture of the baby) Showing us that what you do when babies are around is stare at them. This one is pretty much a toddler now.

A direct result of that last picture after seeing how blah I looked was a haircut and a resolution to have better posture, which happened the next day.

Anyway, we hiked and picnicked and then we were all beyond beat since the job of just standing outside takes a lot these days (because it's hot). So the next awesome part of my birthday weekend was
FAMILY NAPTIME!
Later that evening we got to hang out with some other friends and another cute little girl since cute little girls are plentiful around these parts.

Then it was Sunday and El Esposo/Daddy took the baby to scope out the nursery that she will be attending in eleven short months while I slept through one class (ahhhh) and then actually listened to the whole other class. Later that day I made El Esposo give me a haircut.
I think he is getting quite good and I am getting quite good at egging him on. "Shorter! Shorter!" Although, I conveniently forgot how annoying it is when you have short hair that some days it just looks terrible and some days great. And, it often looks like a completely different haircut from the other side, thanks to my fantastic cowlicks:

So, today, when you put both sides together it's just kind of "huh?"

Oh well, it keeps a little bit of the unknown in my life so I won't feel tempted to start a torrid affair (how? when?). Also El Esposo being awesome helps with that.

Anyway, finally Monday, my actual birthday, I got nice phone calls, opened a couple gifts and best of all went on a real date. Nana and Papa came over to babysit, which was sort of like this:
Except the picture is a month old and the baby is now a crawling menace. But the point is we went to dinner at a great Afghan place in the neighborhood followed by seeing the movie everyone's talking about. It was pretty superb and worth the little miss waking up an hour and a half earlier than normal the next day (aka today).

The baby's source name

Today I introduced the baby to the source of her middle name.



Actually while this song was playing she just looked like she was about to sneeze the whole time. Pretty sure she really dug "In the Backseat" though; she tried to eat the CD player (yes I said CD player) as it was playing. I'm not sure why I waited so long. I mean I used the Thriller album (usually "Human Nature") to put her to sleep all the time for her first few months of life. I guess seven months is like a coming-of-age. And I recently heard an Arcade Fire interview. Anyway, yes we're cheesy. But we liked the name, so back off. And okay, yeah, she (the name source) is awesome. Does Erin read this blog? Remember when we first saw them in Ithaca at Cornell? I think it actually did change my life.

Also, I really don't know why the YouTube above is frozen into some evil deathmask of her face.

Who wants to babysit November 19th?

Yeah, we interrupt mommy-overload to bring you this completely awesome Harry Potter trailer. Maybe I'm a nerd but there are plenty of us on this planet. I can not wait to see the scene where Ron finally gets over himself and is the hero for one shining moment. I love a good underdog.

Becoming Mommy [Part One]

***This is going to be long, so I decided to serve it up in chunks***

So it's probably no secret around this blog and elsewhere that I've been a little preoccupied by the topic of babies and motherhood for quite a while. I don't seem to be able to write much fiction or music, other than the songwriting challenge, and I have not had a lot of energy for the time and marketing it would take to get and do the type of freelance writing I would prefer. Thankfully it just took a few phone calls to get me some steady income for a while in an area I have a lot of experience but not a lot of love (government agency technical writing). I am very lucky for that. I took my first extended absence from the baby (extended = four hours) recently to go to a work meeting, you know the sort of thing "working moms" do from the time their babies are three months old (I both envy them and am sad for them--there's really no perfect answer). Anyway, I think I just need to get some ideas out that have been churning through my mind for the last seven months and maybe, just maybe, I will feel lighter having dumped that burden. That and better able to do other things and have other conversations.

You see, there's a good reason I'm preoccupied. This is not just some new accessory I'm sporting. Or a puppy. It's not a new job. It's not even a new marriage. Don't get me wrong, I think a marriage relationship is the most important one you can enter into with another person. That's why it can be such a hard decision to make. And it's why all the heartbreak that comes beforehand is worth it. But most of the challenges of my marriage I could have predicted since I had, you know, met my husband (and known him for four and a half years). A baby is completely new and unknown. For all the build up to it: the registries, the baby shower, prepping the nursery, counting the weeks and identifying which fruit the baby now resembles, dreaming what it will be like, fearing labor and delivery and planning your "method" for getting through it, saving money and preparing to reschedule your life. It's like all of that was just noise. Sure it's kind of necessary and certainly helps you prepare as much as it is possible. But all of that noise turns to silence with the first cries that a tiny newborn makes. This being comes into your life and everything about her is so completely her and you have to get to know her ASAP from zero. Oh, and she depends on you for everything ever. I know this is a Captain Obvious kind of remark but it can't be ignored: EVERYTHING CHANGES.

Of course I can only speak for myself. And I can only talk about a healthy pregnancy resulting in a healthy baby. I'm sure there are plenty of women who could tell me "You have no idea." And they would be right. In fact, if I have learned anything through pregnancy and mothering a newborn, it is that YOU CAN NEVER TELL what it's like to be in someone else's shoes and to have to make the decisions they have to make. Decisions like whether to have a medicated or non-medicated birth, whether to breastfeed or bottlefeed (although I still think you should give breastfeeding a good TRY), whether to use disposable or cloth diapers, seem much less important to me now, so I'm sure I can make no pronouncement on other experiences and struggles I have never had like babies with serious birth defects or miscarriages. I can offer ONE THING that I have learned that might apply to every mom and would-be mom and that is:

Becoming a mother is a big deal and you just HAVE to have patience: patience with the circumstance you are in and definitely patience with yourself and how bad you may be at some things. We are being made into Mothers. It is no small task. Every hard thing that happens and that we make it through makes us more the kind of Mom we need to be for those sweet and needy little monsters, now or in the future.

That's what I think anyway. Maybe this is another Captain Obvious remark, but I'm new at this. I'm sure I will continue to learn more and have more challenging experiences and will look back on this moment and say, "If you only knew," but I THINK the main sentiment will still be true.

So far, this has been my experience:

I fell in love with this baby.


Who is now this baby:


Before I know it she will be a little girl. But here's the truth: I did not fall in love with her immediately (at least as completely) as El Esposo did. Possibly because of how that fateful night went down almost completely oppositely from how we had planned.
{EDIT: I CHANGED MY MIND ABOUT POSTING THE LABOR STORY. I REMEMBER NOT WANTING TO READ ANYONE ELSE'S STORY WHEN I WAS PREGNANT AND IT WAS PROBABLY FOR THE BEST SO I'M KEEPING IT TO MYSELF. IT IS SUFFICIENT TO SAY I LEARNED IT'S JUST GOING TO GO HOW IT'S GOING TO GO AND THERE'S NOT A LOT YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT, BUT OF COURSE IT IS WORTH IT.}

To be continued...

My Daughter's Friend, The Brick Fairy

So there is this girl in our neighborhood that the kids next door call "the deaf girl." It is true she is deaf and she does not speak except to make occasional grunting sounds. I have never met her parents so I really don't know what else is going on with the girl but she also has very round features, walks hunched over, moves her hands awkwardly and obviously is mentally impaired with her own view of the world. If I had to guess I would say she's a teenager, but do not ask me to narrow down the age. Whatever it is, I'll just come out and say that she is very much a Special Ed kid.

Since the weather got nice, Little A and I have often encountered this girl outside. She spends a lot of her time just roaming around and she also swings a lot on the playground in the middle of the complex. Little A and I also swing, sometimes together and sometimes she's in the baby swing. When we first started seeing the girl around, Little A and the girl would just stare at each other all the time. Staring turned quickly to smiling. Little A watches everything anyone does, but particularly this girl. I started waving when we would see her and I started noticing she would just appear sometimes when we were outside. Little A was being tracked!

Then something odd started happening. Stray bricks began to appear behind mine and El Esposo's cars. At first we thought it was someone playing next door as they have a little pile from their walkway that has fallen apart and they have their own kids and daycare kids there all the time. And yes it was a little annoying, but we quickly began to realize it was too darn systematic to just be kids playing. I would sometimes see the girl wandering around near the time the bricks magically appeared, though I never caught her in the act. El Esposo started calling her "The Brick Fairy" and I decided that we were being marked somehow because she likes our baby. We decided it was kind of cute in a weird sort of way.

The "brick laying" has tapered off but every time I see this girl it is obvious that she is just totally in love with Little A, so I always go up to her for a minute and wave and she waves back and Little A smiles at her. That's been about it until today, the day of fantastic weather.

Today Little A and I went outside in the early afternoon between naps and I set out a big blanket and a few of her toys under a shady tree in the shared area near the playground (since the grass we own is all of a 2 x 3 rectangle with no shade). The out of doors is absolute magic for the babe. No fussing and lots of calm play. Anyway, after a while we noticed our friend lurking in the vicinity. It was absolutely fascinating, so I just watched as she paced back and forth near us and busied herself swatting flies, moving rocks, pine needles, and other debris, and slowly but surely creeping closer to us. I thought of motioning to her to come over but I really just wanted to see how things would play out. I did move a couple toys out of the way so she could come sit on the blanket if she so chose. Little A just kept looking at her per usual. After several minutes she had inched onto the edge of the blanket and she started to play with the baby. She showed Little A how to stack the colored rings on that ubiquitous baby rainbow ring stacking toy she has. After a while Little A started leaning toward the girl and grabbing for her. At first I kind of re-directed her because I wasn't sure how the girl would feel about Little A touching her and heck I don't know what she's capable of--it could be dangerous. But then the girl started to motion to Little A that she should come climb on her lap. Holy crap it was the sweetest thing I have ever seen how she kept patting her lap and looking at Little A. But, since Little A doesn't really know how to climb on someone's lap yet as opposed to just more or less attacking them, I tried to direct her to just touch the girl gently. After a few minutes it was Little A's naptime and so I conveyed that to the girl with a bunch of dopey hand signals, which she apparently totally followed because she started helping me clean up and handed me the blanket after I stood up with the baby.

If that is not sweet enough, check out PART B. After Little A's nap we went for a walk outside with her in my new fancy pants baby carrier and after trolling the nearby neighborhoods, we crossed back near the playground only to find the girl waiting for us. She was sitting at the swing and she had brought her Barbie convertible car with two Barbies in it. Seriously I am just about to cry all over this keyboard with my mommy hormones to think about how she waited there for us, just hoping we would come by. I wanted to get back to start cooking dinner but the girl just grinned over at us and started rolling the Barbie car around and looking at us, as if to say, "Come play with my awesome Barbie car." At this point in Little A's life I think a Barbie car is just one more thing to try and put in the mouth, but the point is the girl is trying to be friends with my baby. So we came over and played for a while and Little A tried to jam the Barbie's head down her throat or, failing that, at least eat all of her hair.

And now I am writing this down so I remember Little A's first friend. Not some other baby or little kid at playgroup (which we haven't managed to make it to), but this lonely, sweet, Special Ed kid.
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Oh, also today Little A gave me a big sloppy kiss on the cheek. Like a dork, I just kept saying, "You kissed me!" Best. Milestone. Ever. (See, I even had to break out the classic bloggy every-word-is-a-sentence for that one.)