this & that

So, Owen started daycare a few weeks ago and it turns out that there is nothing like paying good money for the privilege of going to work to really light a fire under me. I haven't been this productive since... well, since I got knocked up, probably.

I have all the requisite ambivalent feelings about handing my infant over to strangers, but all-in-all having the defined schedule of Work Time and Baby Time is going a long way toward assuaging my guilt about not spending enough time devoted to either of those endeavors.

Work is now done during Work Time, and I can (for the most part) hang it up when I go home, and on days that I'm at home with the baby I don't feel so much like I ought to also be spending some time writing my next dissertation chapter while the baby naps*.

It is revolutionary, I tell you. I haven't had this little guilt about not working when I'm not working in years. I really recommend having a baby to anyone out there who is struggling with priorities.**

Of course, the voices will probably kick into overdrive right as my next deadline rolls around, but for now things are copacetic. It helps that this kid is so social and seems to absolutely adore being at daycare. He does this whole body smile thing when he's super happy, where he balls up his fists right by his face and kind of contorts his body back and forth (hard to explain, but god it's cute) and today when I picked him up I could barely get his coat on because he just couldn't stop being absolutely tickled by the general state of the world.

But, it also turns out that apparently blogging was one of those things I used to do when I was busy pretending to do real work. Thus it falling by the wayside of late. I swear to god yesterday I only procrastinated for maybe a grand total of fifteen minutes all day. That's including non-work related emailing. I was exhausted at the end of the day, but still not nearly as tired as I am after a day home with a baby. Three cheers for full-time stay-at-home-ers. I had to get back to school so I didn't die of exhaustion.

-----

*If you don't have a new baby you're probably thinking, "But, surely you can find some time while he naps. What are you, lazy?" I am now going to ask the person sitting next to you, who does have kids, to flick your earlobes.

But with that said, it is getting easier to cram other things into my day. Just not deep intellectual thoughts. More like brushing my teeth and cleaning cat litter.

**I kid! (kind of.)

sharing fluids

Yes, the act of breastfeeding is emotional and intense. Either in a painful way (at first, when you're breaking in the equipment) or in a sweet 'i am connected to my baby' sort of way as it is now. But really, there is something even more intimate about picking that baby up after he's done nursing, having him snuggle into your shoulder... and then puke it all back up right down your neck.

2011

Ways in which it started right:
-neither Owen nor I seem to have caught the bug that had Adam puking through the entire state of Illinois yesterday.
- our cat didn't destroying anything worse than his usually roll of papertowels while we were gone
-brunch @ Black Bear Bakery- those anarchist make a mean quiche
-naps all around

Elements that contributed to a less than auspicious start:
-anarchists seem to not care about serving cold pancakes.
- large pieces of our house blew off in the crazy storms yesterday & are now laying about our yard.
- after a month of an extremely happy baby we seem to be entering the teething phase. Hold on to your hats.

I don't get misty-eyed about the arrival of a new year and I don't do resolutions, but I will say that 2009 & 2010 were completely insane, and if I am really going to finish my dissertation then 2011 is not going to be a walk in the park either. Despite the sense of impending doom, in 2011 I plan to cuddle my baby as much a possible & read more books & fewer blogs. Ready? Let's do this year.

merry, merry, merry

navigating the Sunday Times

• Cursory glance at big headlines to see if there is something I'd like to read about in more depth
• Modern Love column
• the rest of the Sunday Styles section
• Book Review
• Week in Review
• the rest of the first section/National news
• NYT Magazine (read over the course of the week)

How do you read it?

two months in

I know. It's insane. Take a minute if you need to recover before reading further.

Well, more like 2 months and a week. We are still working on having things happen on time around here. In the two weeks that it has taken me to write this post Owen has been growing & developing in leaps and bounds. He's smiling at us like we invented the world, mimicing our gestures and 'talking' back at us with awesome ebullient gurgles and coos. He is, in short, amazing at everything besides sleeping.

(turn your volume up for full baby gurgle effect)

In that first bleary month there were so many wonderful friends who reached out to say "It will get better!" (thank you all times a million).

And they were right, sort of. It is better, but I don't know if it is easier. I think that "it will get better" is a code that experienced parents use to actually mean "you'll get used to it!" Used to tired, used to crying (mine, as well as his!), used to doing nothing but baby. And you will settle into it. It took a while for me to let go-- let go of expectations-- of dinner making, of diaper washing, or work doing, of anything and to just be present. And that letting go was the turning point for me, I think. That and the day when Owen decided that Adam could put him down to sleep too, it didn't have to always be me. The freedom!!!! I am drunk with it.

Verging on gratuitous amounts of baby cuteness in this post.

Anyway, Owen's not the only one developing mad skillz.

Since my hands are always full with the babe I have learned to do the following with my feet:

-open/close doors

-pick up phone from the ground

-open/close vegetable drawer in the fridge

-turn on bedside lamp

-change the channel on the tv

colors

Yellow

Green

Blue

Pink

White

open letters

Dear Owen-

It is not a good long-term strategy to try to survive on so little sleep. Believe me. It is making you nuts. It's making me nuts.

Don't roll your eyes at me!

Dear Fancy Baby Swing-

You are supposed to be the answer. You are supposed to be lulling this kid into the starry dreamland so that I can finally take a shower, so that I don't show up at the polls looking like I'm still wearing my Halloween hobo costume. Instead, he screams the minute I get him near you.

I don't think you're trying hard enough.

Dear Wonderful Neighbor Who Gave Us This Big Purple Exercise Ball-

THANK YOU. Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou.

It is the only thing that works.

Dear Organic Fake Pop-Tarts-

You are not very good. And you are not very good for me. But you contain calories, and I can prepare and eat you with one hand.

For this I salute you.

Dear Whoever It Is That Decided That Drinking Coffee While Breastfeeding Is OK (in moderation)-

*sob* Marry me. *sob*

In other news:

I am currently avoiding eye contact with a December grant deadline.

I have made eye contact with two sets of manuscript edits, but they are still mingling on the other side of the party, so I'm going to just hang out over here by the hours de vours table hoping they don't make the trek across the room and try to engage me in conversation.

Nearly a month with this baby! Good thing he's so amazing in all other ways beside sleeping.

Don't be fooled. It looks like sleep BUT I ASSURE YOU IT IS NOT!

two weeks in

So in case you missed the rockets, the bullhorns, the tickertape parade, the airplanes toting banners o'er the sky: We had a baby!

His name is Owen and he is awesome.

Turns out it hurts a lot to birth a baby. Before & after. Maybe you knew that? I did, but not really. I made some cazy jungle noises & some words not fit to print. But in the end, totally worth every last unmedicated minute of it.

He is, of course, a complete genius and totally precocious. Today he rolled over-- twice! He is two weeks old! He came out of the womb with muscle definition in his legs and arms --which explains all the insane kicking that was going on in utero. Pretty soon he's going to be pulling those monster truck tires across our backyard, and tossing the girls over his shoulder at recess and running off with them like his Viking ancestors.

Like all intellectuals, he also enjoys a bit of light reading before bed. A true renaissance man, this kid.

Likes:

+nursing

+his owl

+family

+sunshine

Dislikes:

+wet diapers

+waking up hungry

+having boogers sucked out of his nose.

We've decided to keep him.

40 weeks. 31 years.