...out the door.
This was a rough year. The (sole) highlight was the arrival of Roo #2, who delights us every day simply by being here.
Working in opposition to this joy were: ongoing work-related drama, the expected struggles that take place when adjusting your family to two new members in rapid succession, a true loss of social network (aside from my burgeoning Twitter and FB presence, ha), friends' health challenges and tragic losses, and -- for the first time in my life -- an unpleasant sense of ennui, aimlessness and impending failure.
Not doom, mind you. Just failure.
I'm carving out a plan to address this incipient haziness, this lack of focus, and I have to say I am excited for the tabula rasa that comes knocking at my door in two hours and 17 minutes.
Happy new year!
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Monday, November 9, 2009
In Which Kanga Realizes It's Been Much Too Long
...since I posted. Much has changed. Much has happened.
First of all, we welcomed Roo #2 (also a J) on May 12. Her birth went smoothly, and I was lucky enough to have the same delivery team as last time, with the exception of the anesthetist. The new one was also wonderful, of course. St. Vincent's FTW!
Second, I've gradually realized that the name of this blog is woefully inappropriate. I wouldn't care much about changing it, except that I do plan to begin writing more (my friend N raises a skeptical eyebrow), and topics will include but certainly not be limited to the issues surrounding information professionals in creative fields.
That said, the name will likely stay. Inertia drives me (now there's a paradox).
More soon...I promise.
First of all, we welcomed Roo #2 (also a J) on May 12. Her birth went smoothly, and I was lucky enough to have the same delivery team as last time, with the exception of the anesthetist. The new one was also wonderful, of course. St. Vincent's FTW!
Second, I've gradually realized that the name of this blog is woefully inappropriate. I wouldn't care much about changing it, except that I do plan to begin writing more (my friend N raises a skeptical eyebrow), and topics will include but certainly not be limited to the issues surrounding information professionals in creative fields.
That said, the name will likely stay. Inertia drives me (now there's a paradox).
More soon...I promise.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
In Which Kanga Faces Facts
Fact #1: My maternity leave starts this Friday.
Fact #2: Nonetheless, I will be at work Saturday, since I have to take a day off tomorrow due to J's illness (my first ever for that reason, BTW, so that makes it easier to swallow).
Fact #3: We are having carpet installed Mon and Tues.
Fact #4: Alan asked the karmic gods to keep J healthy for only two key dates...when I went on a two-day getaway with a friend, and during the carpet installation. She has thus far managed to barf and fever her way through both. Thanks, karmic gods!
Fact #5: I could never. ever. ever. come up with the structure and stimulation for my kid(s) that most SAHMs do. By the time 4:00 rolls around, I'm out of ideas, folks. I like the challenge in the abstract, but it's a good thing I'm not a SAHM.
Fact #6: 15 days till Roo #2's arrival.
The above facts brought to you by Second-Baby Heebie-Jeebies International.
Fact #2: Nonetheless, I will be at work Saturday, since I have to take a day off tomorrow due to J's illness (my first ever for that reason, BTW, so that makes it easier to swallow).
Fact #3: We are having carpet installed Mon and Tues.
Fact #4: Alan asked the karmic gods to keep J healthy for only two key dates...when I went on a two-day getaway with a friend, and during the carpet installation. She has thus far managed to barf and fever her way through both. Thanks, karmic gods!
Fact #5: I could never. ever. ever. come up with the structure and stimulation for my kid(s) that most SAHMs do. By the time 4:00 rolls around, I'm out of ideas, folks. I like the challenge in the abstract, but it's a good thing I'm not a SAHM.
Fact #6: 15 days till Roo #2's arrival.
The above facts brought to you by Second-Baby Heebie-Jeebies International.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
In Which Kanga Realizes She Missed February
Nary a blog post in February...an indicator of how work, home life and preparations for Roo #2 have all stepped up considerably.
Here we are in March, exactly two months from when my maternity leave begins. A co-worker sent me a fascinating article written by another librarian who was, shall we say, quite well-prepared for her own 12-week FMLA leave.
Though there's more than a whiff of OCD about this woman, she wrote a fantabulous manual of her job's duties, set up an FAQ to guide those who were assisting in her absence, and said in all seriousness that no work piled up in her absence.
I definitely plan to take snippets of her recommendations. The list of frequently asked co-worker questions seems valuable, as does a full list of database passwords, clear access to previously performed secondary research results, and a basic how-to for much of what I do each day.
In other news, we have named Roo #2! Thanks to all those who offered suggestions. We feel really good about our choice and are now "settling in" with it to allow it to attach itself to our second little girl.
Here we are in March, exactly two months from when my maternity leave begins. A co-worker sent me a fascinating article written by another librarian who was, shall we say, quite well-prepared for her own 12-week FMLA leave.
Though there's more than a whiff of OCD about this woman, she wrote a fantabulous manual of her job's duties, set up an FAQ to guide those who were assisting in her absence, and said in all seriousness that no work piled up in her absence.
I definitely plan to take snippets of her recommendations. The list of frequently asked co-worker questions seems valuable, as does a full list of database passwords, clear access to previously performed secondary research results, and a basic how-to for much of what I do each day.
In other news, we have named Roo #2! Thanks to all those who offered suggestions. We feel really good about our choice and are now "settling in" with it to allow it to attach itself to our second little girl.
Monday, January 19, 2009
In Which Kanga Tells Roo a Secret
Bathtime is a great time to share secrets. Today, while I was shampooing J's hair, I told her a short story.
"Tomorrow, baby, a man named Barack Obama is going to be inaugurated as our 44th President. He is an African-American, and he is a great man. This is important. But what's more important is that you are growing up in a really, really exciting time. I will always remember that I was with you on the eve of the day everything changed."
J laughed and pulled her foam letter "E" off the wet wall of the tub.
"Tomorrow, baby, a man named Barack Obama is going to be inaugurated as our 44th President. He is an African-American, and he is a great man. This is important. But what's more important is that you are growing up in a really, really exciting time. I will always remember that I was with you on the eve of the day everything changed."
J laughed and pulled her foam letter "E" off the wet wall of the tub.
Monday, January 5, 2009
In Which Kanga and Roo Make Room For...
...a baby sister. Roo #2 will be a girl, as evidenced today by our ultrasound.
By the way, Portland residents -- if you can get Susannah the sonographer at NW Perinatal, do it. She doesn't, of course, promise specific boy or girl babies, but she's got a darn good prediction track record and an excellent bedside manner.
I had, of course, approximately 25 boys' names and only two or three girls' names that even piqued my interest. Any suggestions, esteemed readers?
(Suggestions of "Dewey" or "Marian" -- as in librarian -- will be duly ignored.)
Sunday, December 28, 2008
In Which Kanga Muses on the Year Past and Yet to Come
As we approach December 31, I wanted to jot down some of the ups and downs of 2008, while looking ahead to 2009.
2008 was first and foremost the Year of the Baby. J grew from a nine-week-old meatloaf-esque lump into a walking (running!), semi-talking, food-and-toy-throwing delight. She makes us laugh many times every day, and just smelling the top of her head is enough to strengthen me for the day.
Alan and I went from bumbling first-timers to generally relaxed parents of a toddler. Not yet required to shift to a man-to-man defense (foreshadowing!), we found that we could be good parents while still retaining time for the things we like to do for ourselves.
What could I have done better? I could have carved out more time to read and exercise. I probably could have focused on my work more. But what kind of tool lies on their deathbed saying, "Yeah, I wish I had worked more?"
As for reading and exercise, the busy nature of this year meant that Hood to Coast and most of my book groups' activities were laid aside in favor of family time. I picked up water aerobics, which I really enjoy and which are totally harder than you'd think.
Then, just as we were headed into the autumn home stretch, I'd given away all my maternity clothes and things seemed destined for the normalcy inherent to a single-child family...bang.
No pun intended.
Our second pregnancy has left us alternately shocked, surprised, angry, giddy, joyful, nervous, at each other's throats and, ultimately, eager and with a strange peace. The first few months will be difficult, and I am thankful in advance for the knowledge that I am unlikely to remember them clearly (if J's first months are any indicator). Beyond all else, I am completely confident in our ability to juggle two kidlets, love them with complete abandon, recognize their differences as people and hold them close to our hearts. I am also confident that, several years from now -- three? four? -- we will look back and say that this was the wonderful redirect that I believe it to be.
I am getting some kicks now; I'll take that as a sign that I should end here, wishing all four readers of Design Librarian -- and everyone else -- a peaceful and prosperous 2009.
2008 was first and foremost the Year of the Baby. J grew from a nine-week-old meatloaf-esque lump into a walking (running!), semi-talking, food-and-toy-throwing delight. She makes us laugh many times every day, and just smelling the top of her head is enough to strengthen me for the day.
Alan and I went from bumbling first-timers to generally relaxed parents of a toddler. Not yet required to shift to a man-to-man defense (foreshadowing!), we found that we could be good parents while still retaining time for the things we like to do for ourselves.
What could I have done better? I could have carved out more time to read and exercise. I probably could have focused on my work more. But what kind of tool lies on their deathbed saying, "Yeah, I wish I had worked more?"
As for reading and exercise, the busy nature of this year meant that Hood to Coast and most of my book groups' activities were laid aside in favor of family time. I picked up water aerobics, which I really enjoy and which are totally harder than you'd think.
Then, just as we were headed into the autumn home stretch, I'd given away all my maternity clothes and things seemed destined for the normalcy inherent to a single-child family...bang.
No pun intended.
Our second pregnancy has left us alternately shocked, surprised, angry, giddy, joyful, nervous, at each other's throats and, ultimately, eager and with a strange peace. The first few months will be difficult, and I am thankful in advance for the knowledge that I am unlikely to remember them clearly (if J's first months are any indicator). Beyond all else, I am completely confident in our ability to juggle two kidlets, love them with complete abandon, recognize their differences as people and hold them close to our hearts. I am also confident that, several years from now -- three? four? -- we will look back and say that this was the wonderful redirect that I believe it to be.
I am getting some kicks now; I'll take that as a sign that I should end here, wishing all four readers of Design Librarian -- and everyone else -- a peaceful and prosperous 2009.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
In Which Kanga and Roo Enjoy A Second Thanksgiving Together
My husband and I took J to visit friends today and eat Thanksgiving dinner. These are the same friends who hosted us last year, when J was only five weeks old. The food was once again fabulous, the conversation excellent, and this year the icing on the cake was a Pilgrim play (complete with "props") performed by the host and hostess' two children. Fall-down funny.
J did great. Unlike last week, when we had to rapidly leave a birthday party before the guest of honor even opened his gifts, tonight she was all smiles, friendly and playful.
I am determined to figure out the difference. It could have been the raw amount of people (fewer tonight), the noise level (a bit quieter), or the presence of Mom, Dad AND Gram. Regardless, it made for a pleasant and even relaxing evening.
Happy Thanksgiving!
J did great. Unlike last week, when we had to rapidly leave a birthday party before the guest of honor even opened his gifts, tonight she was all smiles, friendly and playful.
I am determined to figure out the difference. It could have been the raw amount of people (fewer tonight), the noise level (a bit quieter), or the presence of Mom, Dad AND Gram. Regardless, it made for a pleasant and even relaxing evening.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
In Which Roo and The New Roo Make Two
Although most readers of this (barely read) blog know this already, Roo II will make his or her much-vaunted appearance on or around May 15, 2009.
I am mildly curious as to how J will react. I say "mildly," because I pretty much KNOW what will go down.
I may sell tickets.
I am mildly curious as to how J will react. I say "mildly," because I pretty much KNOW what will go down.
I may sell tickets.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
In Which Kanga Makes a List
Having just returned from a six-day trip East with J, I have developed a short list of recommended dos and don'ts based on my minor mishaps and tiny victories along the way. Of course, as always, your mileage may vary.
1. More toys, fewer clothes. Really...FEWER CLOTHES. God has invented these wonderful things called washing machines, and unless you are staying with Dwight Schrute, your hosts have one.
2. Did I mention more toys? And books. Airplanes are boring, boring places, and being strapped in (backwards!) within a car seat would drive anyone to distraction. More. Brand. New. Toys and books.
3. Resist the temptation to fill your child with food to stave off crying jags mid-flight. Although this wasn't a chronic issue on the trip, I did discover to my dismay that J has a nervous stomach when traveling.
4. Prepackaged dried formula in the foil tubes = rock. Easy to pack, easy to prepare. Sold at Babies R Us, and no doubt a number of other fine establishments.
5. Despite the inherent wastefulness of the packaging, consider bottled water for preparing baby's formula when traveling. Though I don't remember it this way as a child, the tap water in Eastern Pennsylvania is downright undrinkable, and I ended up heading to CVS for bottled water to mix up J's meals.
6. Think your baby bucket / carseat doesn't hang easily off the handle of your stroller? I bet it does. (I discovered this two minutes before my final flight. I am sometimes slow on the uptake.)
7. Never underestimate the value other children bring to your baby's happiness when traveling. J really did well when other kids were in the house...they provided a familiar environment, and allowed her to take a break from the constant being-passed-around-by-strange-adults experience.
8. Apologize in advance -- sincerely -- for the havoc your child will wreak on a flight. It endears you to other travelers, and they may even pitch in and make funny faces at the baby during the trip. No one gave me a hard time, not even a dirty look, despite a ten-minute crying episode on one flight and nearly two hours of freakout on another.
9. This may seem obvious. Get down on your hands and knees, just like at home lo these many months ago, and baby-proof the house you are in. If you like, do it room-by-room, so as not to overwhelm yourself (and especially since we found we were mainly in the kitchen and the guest bedroom). It is AMAZING what people have in their homes. I just returned from a stay in a post-Revolution-era farmhouse with (1) a metal typewriter perched on a pedestal; (2) glass jars resting on wooden stools; and (3) best of all, a collection of sharpened farm and garage implements HANGING ON THE WALL.
10. Though others will, with the best of intentions, attempt to pack your schedule with new and interesting activities for baby, again resist the temptation to introduce your child to too many new things when underway. The town's Halloween parade (she would have been dressed as a clown, which was a dealbreaker anyway), the Please Touch Museum (first week reopened, on a rainy Sunday...noooooo), the Philadelphia Art Museum and the Reading Terminal Market were all carefully turned down, in favor of having J spend quality time with her 88-year-old great-aunt and have a play date with two three-year-old friends. My relatives now think I'm an overprotective bore, but I know I did the right thing for my noise-sensitive, easily startled child.
Traveling is hard enough for an adult when things go wrong. Though they may piss you off or even make you cry, you have resources, tools, and the larger understanding of WHY they happen. Children are just victims, whisked along in the experience without explanation or context. Keep that in mind, and it may help you feel a twinge of empathy next time for the kid in 22-F who won't stop screaming.
1. More toys, fewer clothes. Really...FEWER CLOTHES. God has invented these wonderful things called washing machines, and unless you are staying with Dwight Schrute, your hosts have one.
2. Did I mention more toys? And books. Airplanes are boring, boring places, and being strapped in (backwards!) within a car seat would drive anyone to distraction. More. Brand. New. Toys and books.
3. Resist the temptation to fill your child with food to stave off crying jags mid-flight. Although this wasn't a chronic issue on the trip, I did discover to my dismay that J has a nervous stomach when traveling.
4. Prepackaged dried formula in the foil tubes = rock. Easy to pack, easy to prepare. Sold at Babies R Us, and no doubt a number of other fine establishments.
5. Despite the inherent wastefulness of the packaging, consider bottled water for preparing baby's formula when traveling. Though I don't remember it this way as a child, the tap water in Eastern Pennsylvania is downright undrinkable, and I ended up heading to CVS for bottled water to mix up J's meals.
6. Think your baby bucket / carseat doesn't hang easily off the handle of your stroller? I bet it does. (I discovered this two minutes before my final flight. I am sometimes slow on the uptake.)
7. Never underestimate the value other children bring to your baby's happiness when traveling. J really did well when other kids were in the house...they provided a familiar environment, and allowed her to take a break from the constant being-passed-around-by-strange-adults experience.
8. Apologize in advance -- sincerely -- for the havoc your child will wreak on a flight. It endears you to other travelers, and they may even pitch in and make funny faces at the baby during the trip. No one gave me a hard time, not even a dirty look, despite a ten-minute crying episode on one flight and nearly two hours of freakout on another.
9. This may seem obvious. Get down on your hands and knees, just like at home lo these many months ago, and baby-proof the house you are in. If you like, do it room-by-room, so as not to overwhelm yourself (and especially since we found we were mainly in the kitchen and the guest bedroom). It is AMAZING what people have in their homes. I just returned from a stay in a post-Revolution-era farmhouse with (1) a metal typewriter perched on a pedestal; (2) glass jars resting on wooden stools; and (3) best of all, a collection of sharpened farm and garage implements HANGING ON THE WALL.
10. Though others will, with the best of intentions, attempt to pack your schedule with new and interesting activities for baby, again resist the temptation to introduce your child to too many new things when underway. The town's Halloween parade (she would have been dressed as a clown, which was a dealbreaker anyway), the Please Touch Museum (first week reopened, on a rainy Sunday...noooooo), the Philadelphia Art Museum and the Reading Terminal Market were all carefully turned down, in favor of having J spend quality time with her 88-year-old great-aunt and have a play date with two three-year-old friends. My relatives now think I'm an overprotective bore, but I know I did the right thing for my noise-sensitive, easily startled child.
Traveling is hard enough for an adult when things go wrong. Though they may piss you off or even make you cry, you have resources, tools, and the larger understanding of WHY they happen. Children are just victims, whisked along in the experience without explanation or context. Keep that in mind, and it may help you feel a twinge of empathy next time for the kid in 22-F who won't stop screaming.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
In Which Roo Steps Forward
On Monday afternoon the three of us were literally lying on the carpet on the second floor. Alan was fixing a baby gate and I wasn't. J was pulling at the gate to counteract Dad's efforts.
It was at that moment that J chose to stand up and toddle over to Dad. 1-2-3 steps, and *plop*.
I burst into excited tears, and Alan began whooping and hollering. "Oh wow," we said over and over again.
J, for her part, did not see what the big deal was.
It was at that moment that J chose to stand up and toddle over to Dad. 1-2-3 steps, and *plop*.
I burst into excited tears, and Alan began whooping and hollering. "Oh wow," we said over and over again.
J, for her part, did not see what the big deal was.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
In Which Pooh Realizes Something
Pooh: Kanga?
Kanga: Yes, Pooh.
Pooh (timidly): Don't you think -- I mean, you DO think, of course you think -- uh, let me start over.
Kanga (gently): Yes, Pooh.
Pooh (clearing throat): Don't you feel...well, *I* feel...that home is...
Kanga: Home?
Pooh: Yes, home! Home is...well, home is...best. Don't you agree?
Kanga: Yes, Pooh. I agree. It took a while, but I agree. I think the creatures in the Hundred Acre Wood do, too. Home is best.
(To clarify...we're staying in Portland.)
Kanga: Yes, Pooh.
Pooh (timidly): Don't you think -- I mean, you DO think, of course you think -- uh, let me start over.
Kanga (gently): Yes, Pooh.
Pooh (clearing throat): Don't you feel...well, *I* feel...that home is...
Kanga: Home?
Pooh: Yes, home! Home is...well, home is...best. Don't you agree?
Kanga: Yes, Pooh. I agree. It took a while, but I agree. I think the creatures in the Hundred Acre Wood do, too. Home is best.
(To clarify...we're staying in Portland.)
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
In Which Kanga Has a Day Out
I am issuing a challenge to all mothers of infants and toddlers. Do whatever it takes to get a full day off sometime soon, potentially with intermittent husband presence. We're talking 8:30 - 5:30. Maybe it's a grandparent or spouse sitting, or a one-day nanny, but do it. Here's why...
"Kanga's Best Day Ever...a Comedy in Ten Parts"
8:30 Take J to daycare. The facility's cook gives me a breakfast sandwich just to be nice.
9:00 sit at Starbucks with latte and enormous cinnamon bun. (Oh yeah. I went there.) Buy three books for J.
9:30 Hang out at home to chat and flirt with husband. Remember him?
10:30 90-min massage, followed by spur-of-the-moment eyebrow waxing. Wow! there is skin under the forest.
12:00 shower, then lunch with aforementioned husband at SONIC, where you get to eat in your car and they bring burgers on trays. You eat in your car! Yes, I am lame. I LOVED it. They have tater tots!
1:30 hang three pictures in J's room. Have waited 9+ months to do this simple task, which takes approximately four minutes total.
2:00 order cute T-shirts on friend's recommendation -- get 10% discount! Woot.
Consider reading book, dismiss wacky idea and talk over the Palin controversy with husband instead.
Log on to work mail and discover I have no important mails. Yes.
3:00 depart for the BEST PEDICURE IN TOWN (it lasts an hour...$25). Observe neighboring pedicuree (?) demonstrating to bewildered Vietnamese nail artist the best way to frighten away a grizzly bear.
4:30 Pilates class
5:30 waltz home...unfortunately, to angry baby and stressed husband. But I can handle it. I just had the...
Best. Day. Ever.
Ladies! The gauntlet has been thrown down!
Love,
G
"Kanga's Best Day Ever...a Comedy in Ten Parts"
8:30 Take J to daycare. The facility's cook gives me a breakfast sandwich just to be nice.
9:00 sit at Starbucks with latte and enormous cinnamon bun. (Oh yeah. I went there.) Buy three books for J.
9:30 Hang out at home to chat and flirt with husband. Remember him?
10:30 90-min massage, followed by spur-of-the-moment eyebrow waxing. Wow! there is skin under the forest.
12:00 shower, then lunch with aforementioned husband at SONIC, where you get to eat in your car and they bring burgers on trays. You eat in your car! Yes, I am lame. I LOVED it. They have tater tots!
1:30 hang three pictures in J's room. Have waited 9+ months to do this simple task, which takes approximately four minutes total.
2:00 order cute T-shirts on friend's recommendation -- get 10% discount! Woot.
Consider reading book, dismiss wacky idea and talk over the Palin controversy with husband instead.
Log on to work mail and discover I have no important mails. Yes.
3:00 depart for the BEST PEDICURE IN TOWN (it lasts an hour...$25). Observe neighboring pedicuree (?) demonstrating to bewildered Vietnamese nail artist the best way to frighten away a grizzly bear.
4:30 Pilates class
5:30 waltz home...unfortunately, to angry baby and stressed husband. But I can handle it. I just had the...
Best. Day. Ever.
Ladies! The gauntlet has been thrown down!
Love,
G
Saturday, August 16, 2008
In Which Kanga Reminisces -- and Projects
I took J to the Dartmouth picnic two weeks ago. The Oregon chapter of the Dartmouth Alumni Club holds a picnic every August, usually at a gorgeous beach house in Gearhart. This place is astounding. It was previously connected with the Episcopal Church as a small summer camp, and includes the former church, the main house, a shed, a guest house that is several hundred square feet larger than my "non-guest" house, a glassed-in writer's studio, and separate garage big enough to stage food and equipment for a big party.
Most flabbergasting of all, though, is the baseball field. Yes, field. Between the gardens of the main home and the guest quarters is a full-size regulation field. The house owner just really. loves. baseball.
We arrived at 11 am on the dot, since I'd timed our trip over the coastal range to coincide with J's morning nap. She did well, waking up five minutes after we arrived.
She proceeded to charm everyone there, and literally did not cry, whine or even make a negative sound of any kind -- she didn't even poop -- the entire day.
We took off about 2:30 after a great meal of roast chicken, cowboy caviar (holy crap, look that up. amazing...), a beer and some brownie treats. On the kids' menu...chicken and veggies in a jar, with pureed peaches for dessert.
As we drove again over the mountains and J napped like a champ in the backseat, I thought about how interacting with other Dartmouth grads, of any age, always takes me back there. Even if, as was the case today, we don't even speak of the College except in very general terms, it reminds me of the depth of emotion that this connection holds for me.
And, though of course no one said a word about it, I have to admit that as I drove away from the coast I was figuring out...let's see...class of 2028? 2029?
Most flabbergasting of all, though, is the baseball field. Yes, field. Between the gardens of the main home and the guest quarters is a full-size regulation field. The house owner just really. loves. baseball.
We arrived at 11 am on the dot, since I'd timed our trip over the coastal range to coincide with J's morning nap. She did well, waking up five minutes after we arrived.
She proceeded to charm everyone there, and literally did not cry, whine or even make a negative sound of any kind -- she didn't even poop -- the entire day.
We took off about 2:30 after a great meal of roast chicken, cowboy caviar (holy crap, look that up. amazing...), a beer and some brownie treats. On the kids' menu...chicken and veggies in a jar, with pureed peaches for dessert.
As we drove again over the mountains and J napped like a champ in the backseat, I thought about how interacting with other Dartmouth grads, of any age, always takes me back there. Even if, as was the case today, we don't even speak of the College except in very general terms, it reminds me of the depth of emotion that this connection holds for me.
And, though of course no one said a word about it, I have to admit that as I drove away from the coast I was figuring out...let's see...class of 2028? 2029?
Thursday, August 7, 2008
In Which Kanga Boasts a Bit
While dropping J off at daycare this morning, I put her in a standing position while I spoke with her teacher.
Gradually I realized that her weight was perfectly centered...and I let go.
She stood, unsupported, for about eight seconds.
Mama is so proud, baby.
Gradually I realized that her weight was perfectly centered...and I let go.
She stood, unsupported, for about eight seconds.
Mama is so proud, baby.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
In Which Kanga Hangs On Tight
This morning, after changing J's diaper and singing her the Good Morning song, we traipsed on down the steps to the living room.
Except that Ampersand had other ideas.
She darted in front of me as I raised my foot, and I ended up sliding down our seven steps. Even as it happened, my mind slow-motioned into what to do: I simultaneously raised up J and held her tight to me, while my rear, elbow and neck took the brunt of the fall. After a brief cry, J was none the worse for wear.
Can't say the same for me...had to skip Pilates, and my neck doesn't turn quite right. But there was never any question that I would hang on to J, come hell or high water.
Except that Ampersand had other ideas.
She darted in front of me as I raised my foot, and I ended up sliding down our seven steps. Even as it happened, my mind slow-motioned into what to do: I simultaneously raised up J and held her tight to me, while my rear, elbow and neck took the brunt of the fall. After a brief cry, J was none the worse for wear.
Can't say the same for me...had to skip Pilates, and my neck doesn't turn quite right. But there was never any question that I would hang on to J, come hell or high water.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Monday, June 2, 2008
In Which All Characters Confer Regarding Geography (Part I of an ongoing series)
(With apologies to Matt Ruff's Set This House in Order)
Rabbit: I am glad you all could make it. We are here to discuss the relative merits of moving.
Piglet: Eep! Why do we have to move?
Owl: Piglet, nobody said we HAVE to move. It's just that G and her husband and Little J might WANT to move.
Piglet: (knitted eyebrows)
Owl: Well, I shall speak first. As a design librarian, I find myself torn...
Piglet: Eep! (again)
Owl: Ahem!...torn, that is, in the figurative sense. I have an excellent set of opportunities at my current position. I enjoy my co-workers immensely, and am getting exposure to many different work scenarios that will serve me well down the road.
However (other woodland creatures begin fiddling with their paws, talons or toes), there is a hefty amount of corporate fog building at my company, and it might just be easier to go to a firm that has already addressed and solved the problems that my company is just now experiencing for the first time. It is, in a word...
Pooh: (under his breath) Exhausting.
Owl: Yes! That's it exactly. Astute and helpful bear.
Pooh: (grumbles) Astute? I'm trying to lose weight. It just takes a while.
Piglet: (timidly) Well, I don't know why anyone would want to leave the town that G, J and her husband are in. It's beautiful, clean, safe, liberal and not too expensive.
Christopher Robin: It IS across the country from their families.
Eeyore: (arches eyebrow, then thinks better of it and just grimaces)
Christopher Robin: And it does have a 140-day school year. That seems...short.
Kanga: I certainly agree. I for one can't imagine letting Roo attend school in places with no art, gym, music classes or...(trailing off) libraries.
Christopher Robin: Then we are agreed that it is a Puzzle?
Pooh: It certainly is. A Puzzle of Great Consequence.
Rabbit: And, as it is of Great Consequence, it certainly will require nourishment to solve. I recommend we break for carrots, or the sustenance of each creature's choice.
(Agreed.)
(To be continued.)
Rabbit: I am glad you all could make it. We are here to discuss the relative merits of moving.
Piglet: Eep! Why do we have to move?
Owl: Piglet, nobody said we HAVE to move. It's just that G and her husband and Little J might WANT to move.
Piglet: (knitted eyebrows)
Owl: Well, I shall speak first. As a design librarian, I find myself torn...
Piglet: Eep! (again)
Owl: Ahem!...torn, that is, in the figurative sense. I have an excellent set of opportunities at my current position. I enjoy my co-workers immensely, and am getting exposure to many different work scenarios that will serve me well down the road.
However (other woodland creatures begin fiddling with their paws, talons or toes), there is a hefty amount of corporate fog building at my company, and it might just be easier to go to a firm that has already addressed and solved the problems that my company is just now experiencing for the first time. It is, in a word...
Pooh: (under his breath) Exhausting.
Owl: Yes! That's it exactly. Astute and helpful bear.
Pooh: (grumbles) Astute? I'm trying to lose weight. It just takes a while.
Piglet: (timidly) Well, I don't know why anyone would want to leave the town that G, J and her husband are in. It's beautiful, clean, safe, liberal and not too expensive.
Christopher Robin: It IS across the country from their families.
Eeyore: (arches eyebrow, then thinks better of it and just grimaces)
Christopher Robin: And it does have a 140-day school year. That seems...short.
Kanga: I certainly agree. I for one can't imagine letting Roo attend school in places with no art, gym, music classes or...(trailing off) libraries.
Christopher Robin: Then we are agreed that it is a Puzzle?
Pooh: It certainly is. A Puzzle of Great Consequence.
Rabbit: And, as it is of Great Consequence, it certainly will require nourishment to solve. I recommend we break for carrots, or the sustenance of each creature's choice.
(Agreed.)
(To be continued.)
Sunday, May 18, 2008
In Which Kanga and Roo Bust Out the Wheels
Partially because of the amazing weather lately, partially because of raging diaper rash (hers, not mine) and partially to offset encroaching ennui, J and I have ventured during recent sunny days to:
- the backyard, on a towel
- the front yard, on a towel
- Babies R Us (no towels)
Only one of these ventures involved a stroller.
As we tooled through Babies R Us today, with me jamming a hundred dollars' worth of baby swim accoutrements into my cloth shopping bag, I slowly realized that whipping out the Peg Perego earlier in this seven-month stint could have meant more freedom to both J and me.
It's a very simple thing. Well, the stroller itself is not simple...I seriously require an occasional tutorial in opening and closing it from an industrial designer friend of mine, and even SHE needed a few minutes to orient herself. But the concept of carrying one's child is simple enough.
For the first five months of J's life, besides the transit to and from the car in a carrier seat, I either held her in my arms or in a sling. No other method seemed close enough. What if she cried out? Got scared? Was confused? Only being up close to Mama's heartbeat seemed to solve the problem, and ensure that others weren't bothered by my freaking-out baby.
Realize, of course, that she never -- not once -- freaked out enough to even warrant being that close for soothing. The one time J has ever lost it in public, she was, oh yes, in a sling next to my chest. But still my fears remained and ruled me.
Gradually I started busting out the stroller, swayed by the small group of moms I hang out with. All more fashionable and style-conscious than I, they also make excellent use of their strollers and step out with their babes without a second thought.
Inertia breeds inertia, and today I really felt like I had avoided the Yahoo! baby.house.inertia usergroup by the slimmest of margins.
J deserves to go everywhere I do, insofar as those places are safe and appropriate for her, and I deserve to give myself a little credit for being able to handle the occasional meltdown.
The physical stroller itself also adds some cred to my bounce, as the kids say (or as they certainly should). It warns people ahead of time that a baby is approaching. It leaves my arms untired at the end of the day. It allows me to carry (albeit woefully small amounts of) baby crap. God forbid, it lets J see the world and interact with it as it passes by. And yes, it protects her.
I initially sought protection in methods that kept J physically close to me at all times. But the plastic, fabric and metal of a stroller is something to be reckoned with, and likely keep her better-shaded, -protected and -entertained.
I think I just didn't want to let her go.
- the backyard, on a towel
- the front yard, on a towel
- Babies R Us (no towels)
Only one of these ventures involved a stroller.
As we tooled through Babies R Us today, with me jamming a hundred dollars' worth of baby swim accoutrements into my cloth shopping bag, I slowly realized that whipping out the Peg Perego earlier in this seven-month stint could have meant more freedom to both J and me.
It's a very simple thing. Well, the stroller itself is not simple...I seriously require an occasional tutorial in opening and closing it from an industrial designer friend of mine, and even SHE needed a few minutes to orient herself. But the concept of carrying one's child is simple enough.
For the first five months of J's life, besides the transit to and from the car in a carrier seat, I either held her in my arms or in a sling. No other method seemed close enough. What if she cried out? Got scared? Was confused? Only being up close to Mama's heartbeat seemed to solve the problem, and ensure that others weren't bothered by my freaking-out baby.
Realize, of course, that she never -- not once -- freaked out enough to even warrant being that close for soothing. The one time J has ever lost it in public, she was, oh yes, in a sling next to my chest. But still my fears remained and ruled me.
Gradually I started busting out the stroller, swayed by the small group of moms I hang out with. All more fashionable and style-conscious than I, they also make excellent use of their strollers and step out with their babes without a second thought.
Inertia breeds inertia, and today I really felt like I had avoided the Yahoo! baby.house.inertia usergroup by the slimmest of margins.
J deserves to go everywhere I do, insofar as those places are safe and appropriate for her, and I deserve to give myself a little credit for being able to handle the occasional meltdown.
The physical stroller itself also adds some cred to my bounce, as the kids say (or as they certainly should). It warns people ahead of time that a baby is approaching. It leaves my arms untired at the end of the day. It allows me to carry (albeit woefully small amounts of) baby crap. God forbid, it lets J see the world and interact with it as it passes by. And yes, it protects her.
I initially sought protection in methods that kept J physically close to me at all times. But the plastic, fabric and metal of a stroller is something to be reckoned with, and likely keep her better-shaded, -protected and -entertained.
I think I just didn't want to let her go.
Monday, May 5, 2008
In Which Kanga Examines Her Role in the Ecosystem
I am one of those people who never get sick. Between February 1998 and October 2007 I took a grand total of one sick day at work, and just generally felt well.
I attributed it to a few things...sleep (I slept at least eight hours, and often more), frequent exercise, fairly low stress and antioxidant supplements.
I still take antioxidant supplements.
Do you see where this is going?
So, anyway, I WAS one of those people who never get sick. Since J's birth I have had every imaginable ache and pain, from an unshakeable sore throat to blood-streaked phlegm (lovely) to a flare-up of osteoarthritis that I had thought was never to return.
And pinkeye. Who the hell over the age of eighteen gets pinkeye? (Knocked Up characters notwithstanding.)
Previously, with my husband and I as the only nodes of the germ ecosystem, illnesses attached themselves to one node -- his. He could be receiving the Rite of Extreme Unction for cholera and I'd be merrily traipsing off to go be healthy somewhere.
But now I find that my immune response is weakened. It's not any one thing -- I do sleep fairly well, I don't have unmanageable stress, I exercise two days a week or so -- but the paring away from where I used to be healthwise to where I am now...this death by paper cuts...has taken its toll.
Knock on wood, J has made it thus far with only a few days of gunky sniffles; no scary fever or ear infections yet. Even the pinkeye passed her by -- her, the most logical recipient as far as I could tell.
The end result of all this, besides a near-constant feeling that my body is dying, curling off in dry strips and blowing away, is that I have lost any sense of arrogance about my former strapping wellness.
As a new mother, the list of things about which I can be smug is woefully short. There just went another line item.
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