Friday, February 27, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Are you kidding me? You do this to me Every. Year.
Monday, February 23, 2009
As of this weekend, I have a relationship with Lucy – one that she recognizes. She started calling me Mama! When it started about 10 days ago, I figured she was just vocalizing and accidentally spoke the word I’ve been repeating since she was born, but I kept encouraging her to say Mama when she looked at me. And then on Saturday, she looked at me and said “Mama” plain as day without any other chatter. OH! The melting of the heart! (I should add that she’s been calling for her Dada for about 2 weeks now when she gets up in the morning. She is SO Daddy's girl!)
Something has happened this past weekend, and my baby grew up so big. Also on Saturday, she was up from her nap and I changed her diaper and then she made the sign for milk! It took a minute for it to click, because her default is constantly moving her hands like she’s dancing Flamenco. But then she did it again, and the request for “milk” was unmistakable.
Incredible! She’s a human! She thinks! She has thoughts of her own when she thinks about things! What a shift in my paradigm!
I think I’ve grown up this weekend too.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Happy Valentine’s Day!
I’ve hijacked your blog because I want every one to know how wonderful you are. Your boundless kindness, true beauty (inside and out), sharp intelligence, and endless capacity to love make you amazing and make me (and Lucy) very lucky. We appreciate you so much, and you really carry this family…will you be our Valentine?
As part of today’s celebration love, I feel compelled to include a brief story of how I proposed to you (for the benefit of your readers since you were there, of course). I hope you don’t mind.
Love, The Bubba
An excerpt from The Bubba’s Memoir:
The City of
October 27 –
Last Wednesday I flew down to
Liz and I got married 8 months later, and 3.5 years later things have only gotten better and better…
Q: What has 2 thumbs and is exceptionally lucky in Love?
A: The Bubba.
Photo 1: Smooching at the Eiffel Tower after the "official" proposal
Photo 2: This is right before I asked Liz to marry me. Her video camera had just run out of tape, my camera battery was dying, and we both felt broken after walking up about a cazillion steps. Despite the weariness, the moment felt perfect.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Not rigorous to three standard deviations, but it's a good gamble.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
Friday, February 6, 2009
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Lucy’s been watching me very intently as I eat for the past couple of weeks. But for the past few days she has not only been watching the food-to-mouth trajectory, but she’s been opening her mouth and grabbing at my silverware. After I take my bite of yogurt, I’ll put the clean spoon in her mouth, and she makes the motions of tasting it and swallowing. She’s been getting mad and crabbing at me when I don’t put my spoon in her mouth.
So I figured that it’s probably about time to cave to her protests and try some solid food. I hesitated a good long minute, though. I mean, I just got my breastfeeding back on track – should I screw with a good thing again? But then, food right now is just for the experience of it, not for nutrition. And after all, she turns six months in a few short days!
I mixed some rice cereal with some breast milk to very soupy proportion. Then I spooned the tiniest bit into her mouth. She tasted it with pursed lips, but not a drop came out. She swallowed it and then looked at me with a knit brow. I put the spoon full of cereal in her mouth again and she laughed out loud. My baby’s not really a laugher. She’ll smile, sure, and she’s very cheerful, but you have to tickle JUST the right funny bone to get her to laugh her husky “huh, uh-huh, huh” laugh. She bit at the spoon and then chuckled like she was laughing at some sort of inside joke.
I had to look at her and wondered “how much of this do you get?” because it just seemed like she was incredibly pleased to FINALLY get some of what I was having. About time you caught on, Mom.
Either way, she loved it. And keeps wanting more.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Anyway, I digress. The Fremont neighborhood in Seattle is kinda hippie, kinda artsy, really chill. We have a huge bronze statue of Lenin in the “downtown” area and two coffee shops and a handful of bars, maybe a dozen restaurants. We don’t usually frequent any of these businesses due to the tightening of the proverbial belt, but last night was an exception.
We had a small victory we were celebrating, so after we put Lucy to bed, I walked down to the Thai restaurant for some take-out. It seemed like all the weirdos and riff-raff came out of the woodwork especially for me. There was the regular street guy hanging outside the corner market thingie, but he had three loud friends with him. Then there were a handful of crazies under the awning at a restaurant that’s only open for breakfast and lunch. Then there were a few more on the corner by the Thai restaurant. They all seemed to want to talk with me. I’m just not used to it anymore.
For the walk home, I decided to take another route so I wouldn’t have to go by all of them a second time and with a bag full of takeout. So I went down the less busy street and came across a guy squatting and bathrooming behind a dumpster. He called out to ask if I had any toilet paper, heh heh heh. Gross! Where did all these people come from all of a sudden? It hasn’t been THAT long that I’ve been removed from the evening scene.
Oh, what? You want to know a little more about what we were celebrating and a little less about our crazy neighborhood indigents? I can’t see why, but ok, I guess.
Well, the day before we went on vacation, my Bubba’s company cut about 25 jobs. Maybe that doesn’t seem like a lot but it’s not a huge company. That works out to about 18% of the positions. The boss-men called people into their offices one by one to give them the news, and word made it around the office of what was going on. The company uses a sign in/sign out software so that everyone knows who’s in the office/at the jobsite/out sick, etc. As people were let go, their names would be deleted from the sign in software and they would be locked out of the shared computer files. Bubba said that people were glued to the screens of their computers watching as names were deleted from the software, watching the number of total employees decrease and avoiding phone calls. Basically worrying and wondering if they were next.
My Bubba wasn’t. In fact, we just got word yesterday that he was promoted to E3! That’s engi-nerd speak for Level 3 Engineer. That comes with a modest but not-nothing raise. It’s because my Bubba’s so smart and such a good worker, and in his own words, a Ninja-neer.
And we celebrated with delicious Thai food after a trip through Weirdoville, population: Too Many.
Monday, February 2, 2009
But that wasn’t the extent of the badness. Oh no. I was so sick and dehydrated that I wasn’t breastfeeding at all. For the entire week. Lucy, meet Formula. Formula, Lucy.
Lucy’s system was insulted She went on a poop strike. There’s not a whole lot more fun chez nous these days than gambling on when the baby’s going to drop her next duce. I had to get her some pear juice to help things along after day 4.5. Which she hated, by the way.
But help things along it did. And when that bet was settled? Oh. My. Word. I won’t even go there except to say that breast milk on the out smells like lilacs and roses compared to used formula. Gag. And especially when I wasn’t feeling well to begin with? Ew. Seriously. Ew.
And THEN, when I started to feel better and was ready to get back into the swing of routine and feeding and sleeping and playing and whatnot, I sighed into our favorite chair with my favorite girl to breastfeed. Except that Lucy wanted nothing to do with it. These milk jugs were empty!
I called a lactation consultant and talked with everyone who has ever breastfed ever and asked for advice all around. Hoping, of course, that there would be some miraculous answer that someone would whisper in my ear that involved more words like “ice cream” and less like “dry pump every 2 seconds.” But I wasn’t so lucky.
I thought, “Well, maybe it’s time to wean! Lucy’s taking formula like it’s her job, she’s almost six months old, I could have my boobs back….” And then I got really sad about it. There’s a certain amount of guilt attached to breastfeeding for me. Like if I don’t, I’m cheating my precious behbeh out of something she needs. Which, I realize, is ridiculous. It’s emotions, people. They don’t often have reason.
But then again, there are so many upsides to breastfeeding. It’s so much cheaper. So much. And it’s super convenient. It’s not like I’m going to accidentally forget my boobs in the other diaper bag and Lucy’s going to starve. And it’s just such a nice little snuggle time with my baby who is growing so way too fast.
So pumping it was. Grumble, grumble, frickafracka grumble.
The good news is my milk is back. The pain in the butt news is that it took like 4-5 days that really sucked. (Ha! Sucked! Pumping!) Dry pumping has to be one of the most uncomfortable things ev-er.
But hopefully I won’t ever have to do it again. Inshallah.