...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.
Showing posts with label Baby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Baby. Show all posts
Monday, November 9, 2009
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 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.
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.
Friday, March 21, 2008
In Which Owl Finds Equilibrium
I have been back at work two months today. This was probably the first week where I felt "in balance" -- figuring out what work needed to be done, getting material out the door, sitting in on kickoffs for new projects, brainstorming with a colleague, even having lunch with a good friend who used to work here.
There have been days of desolation (few), days of joy (also few), but mostly days of logistical hamster-wheel-turning. I feel like the sensation of walking and talking through gauze during my work day, which I experienced for weeks, is gradually lifting, to be replaced with the more typical day-to-day challenges I faced before I left on maternity leave.
What will change this, and re-tip the balance? I imagine that J's first week at daycare will shoot everything to hell, at least temporarily. But after that, I cautiously look forward to the "controlled chaos" I knew before my husband and I created a little controlled chaos-causer ourselves.
There have been days of desolation (few), days of joy (also few), but mostly days of logistical hamster-wheel-turning. I feel like the sensation of walking and talking through gauze during my work day, which I experienced for weeks, is gradually lifting, to be replaced with the more typical day-to-day challenges I faced before I left on maternity leave.
What will change this, and re-tip the balance? I imagine that J's first week at daycare will shoot everything to hell, at least temporarily. But after that, I cautiously look forward to the "controlled chaos" I knew before my husband and I created a little controlled chaos-causer ourselves.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
In Which Kanga Expounds on Poop
Today I got together with four other women from my company, all of whom gave birth within six or eight weeks of each other. As always, it was a lot of fun and included tips on un-freezing milk, mentions of new cloth diaper advances, an Amazing Rolling Baby (tip of the hat to young C.V.) and an excellent photo session in which I inadvertently let someone else's daughter plunk sideways on the couch.
The most intriguing moment for me came when someone put forth the opinion that babies'...discards...at this age smell like either buttered popcorn or oatmeal. Both ideas sounded nuts to me -- it all just smells like formula to my nose -- but a few moments ago J filled her diaper, and I must admit:
Buttered popcorn, baby.
Really.
The most intriguing moment for me came when someone put forth the opinion that babies'...discards...at this age smell like either buttered popcorn or oatmeal. Both ideas sounded nuts to me -- it all just smells like formula to my nose -- but a few moments ago J filled her diaper, and I must admit:
Buttered popcorn, baby.
Really.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
In Which Kanga Reassures You...
...the three-nap thing?
Yeah...that was a fluke. Lasted one day.
As you were.
Yeah...that was a fluke. Lasted one day.
As you were.
Friday, February 8, 2008
In Which Owl and Kanga Assess the Progress of Things
I've spent much of the last three weeks focused on finding a system that works. What I mean is...I love systems. I love discerning them, observing them, creating them and improving them. I would have been a good Operations person. Oh wait, I am an Operations person. Though not always a good one.
Anyway, I have been trying to find the System That Works for balancing actually achieving something at work with being home with J and my husband with respect to both quality and quantity.
As always, I should have just realized it wasn't possible. Thousands of women writing books, giving talks and posting on blogs about the challenges inherent to this should have clued me in that I was rather unlikely to find the silver bullet.
So now, it's about compromise, cutting corners and letting go what other people think. I am not great at any of these three things. I have gotten MUCH better at compromise since getting married, but skimping, letting things slide and not being highly successful at what I do...makes me feel ooky.
I do find that I'm more willing to let work slide -- in terms of initiatives I'm promoting -- than home. This, at least, is a good sign. There is no compromise when it comes to the time I spend with J at this early stage. I am so fortunate to share caregiving with my VERY dialed-in husband.
But boy, it's weird to feel the brakes get put on your career (for the moment) and realize that you're essentially the one doing it. And to also realize that you don't mind all that much.
When we decide to not have children, we women have to then decide to be OK with our decision. Similarly, when we do have children and decide to stay home - or to work - or to go part-time - we have to not only decide these things, but decide to be OK with the decision, and move forward.
And, since analysis paralysis and second-guessing are both my middle names, I can't seem to let this go. I keep turning it over in my mind. I keep understanding, bit by bit, what it's like to not be the focus of my own life.
Naturally, having decided not to hear the woes of the generations of women before me, I absorb the problem all on my own, as if it were the very first time it had happened to any woman.
But it seems fitting somehow, since in a very real way J feels to me like the first baby ever born into the world. And I know that other women feel that deeply with their own children.
Anyway, I have been trying to find the System That Works for balancing actually achieving something at work with being home with J and my husband with respect to both quality and quantity.
As always, I should have just realized it wasn't possible. Thousands of women writing books, giving talks and posting on blogs about the challenges inherent to this should have clued me in that I was rather unlikely to find the silver bullet.
So now, it's about compromise, cutting corners and letting go what other people think. I am not great at any of these three things. I have gotten MUCH better at compromise since getting married, but skimping, letting things slide and not being highly successful at what I do...makes me feel ooky.
I do find that I'm more willing to let work slide -- in terms of initiatives I'm promoting -- than home. This, at least, is a good sign. There is no compromise when it comes to the time I spend with J at this early stage. I am so fortunate to share caregiving with my VERY dialed-in husband.
But boy, it's weird to feel the brakes get put on your career (for the moment) and realize that you're essentially the one doing it. And to also realize that you don't mind all that much.
When we decide to not have children, we women have to then decide to be OK with our decision. Similarly, when we do have children and decide to stay home - or to work - or to go part-time - we have to not only decide these things, but decide to be OK with the decision, and move forward.
And, since analysis paralysis and second-guessing are both my middle names, I can't seem to let this go. I keep turning it over in my mind. I keep understanding, bit by bit, what it's like to not be the focus of my own life.
Naturally, having decided not to hear the woes of the generations of women before me, I absorb the problem all on my own, as if it were the very first time it had happened to any woman.
But it seems fitting somehow, since in a very real way J feels to me like the first baby ever born into the world. And I know that other women feel that deeply with their own children.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
In Which Roo Shakes Things Up and Kanga Gamely Follows
Well, this definitely qualifies as "minutiae," but I'll take what I can get nowadays...
For a while J has taken four (!) 45-minute naps every day. If she misses that last one, oh the drama that ensues...
Anyway, for a few days she has been fussy going down for her first one, which after all is at 7:30 am. Geez Louise. Isn't that when most babies get UP? Today it didn't happen at all...
...and today we figured out that she is bagging that nap. Yes, she still gets up at 6-6:15ish ("the farmer checking her crops"), but now she goes down for the first time at 9 am or so. This seems a bit more normal...
It's definitely true that by the time Mom and Dad settle into baby's schedule, it changes.
This whole process is fascinating to me, mainly because J isn't doing *any* of it deliberately...that is, it's her body giving us the cues, not an active decision to change behavior. The advent of clear circadian rhythms really affects everything around this age.
It does mean less rest for Dad for the moment (since he's on baby duty after I go to work each morning), but naturally we'll go in the direction J points us.
For a while J has taken four (!) 45-minute naps every day. If she misses that last one, oh the drama that ensues...
Anyway, for a few days she has been fussy going down for her first one, which after all is at 7:30 am. Geez Louise. Isn't that when most babies get UP? Today it didn't happen at all...
...and today we figured out that she is bagging that nap. Yes, she still gets up at 6-6:15ish ("the farmer checking her crops"), but now she goes down for the first time at 9 am or so. This seems a bit more normal...
It's definitely true that by the time Mom and Dad settle into baby's schedule, it changes.
This whole process is fascinating to me, mainly because J isn't doing *any* of it deliberately...that is, it's her body giving us the cues, not an active decision to change behavior. The advent of clear circadian rhythms really affects everything around this age.
It does mean less rest for Dad for the moment (since he's on baby duty after I go to work each morning), but naturally we'll go in the direction J points us.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
In Which Pooh Enjoys a Pedicure and Kanga Brags on Roo
Well, the last time Pooh enjoyed any visceral pleasures, it was also in the foot realm (the massage at Barefoot Sage). This time, I took J to Zenana Spa with a friend and her six-month-old son.
I was, of course, nervous about taking J out, compounded with concerns about the weather. And, as usual, things turned out fine. With a bottle of "Mom" and her sling to ride in, J did well and even fell asleep for a few moments.
I'd highly recommend Colleen at Zenana. She did a great job juggling two clients at once, was patient with the babies, and helped us wrangle our diaper bags, etc.
And now...time for another picture of J, this time hanging out with her Aunt Val.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
In Which Kanga Experiences Roo's Randomness
Little J. is definitely responding to several things -- Mom returning to work, turning 3 months old (and the growth spurts that come with that), and just plain excitement at "all the living going on."
As a result, Young J has eschewed her previous sleep-through-the-night angelic behavior in favor of continuous reminders to Mom and Dad of her presence through the evening and early morning hours.
Really, it's no big deal. She IS hungry, and nursing more often makes it easier to pump at work the next day. But I hate to see her end her days in such a grumpy mood. Bedtime used to be really fun and happy for her, but now she yells for a while before settling in.
As a result, Young J has eschewed her previous sleep-through-the-night angelic behavior in favor of continuous reminders to Mom and Dad of her presence through the evening and early morning hours.
Really, it's no big deal. She IS hungry, and nursing more often makes it easier to pump at work the next day. But I hate to see her end her days in such a grumpy mood. Bedtime used to be really fun and happy for her, but now she yells for a while before settling in.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
In Which Owl Assesses the Workplace
Yesterday was my first day back at work. To begin with, work itself...I noticed that things were simultaneously the same and quite different.
The sameness reflected itself mainly in the overall staff (fortunately, there's been fairly low turnover) and, frustratingly, the circuitous nature of the interactions employees have with our information services team. It's hard to build these bridges. Or they fall down a lot, or something.
The differences, however, were uniformly positive. People at work are getting more and more excited about ways to organize, save, manipulate and enhance the information they gather. Wikis and PowerPoints are connecting...discussions are happening on travel blogs while our designers are in the field...employees are responding well to our daily industry and design mailings.
I credit my two associates with much of this; they have the youth, energy and patience to evangelize these capabilities and rally behind them. (Is my jadedness showing?) Now to focus on insinuating ourselves at the early stages of projects, in order to ensure that we not only provide teams with information and inspiration, but that we help them make the best use of what they have already collected.
OK, now to the tough part. Driving to work s-u-c-k-e-d. I alternated crying jags with finding deep meaning in each Top 40 song being played on the radio.
Once at work, the distraction helped. A mysterious stranger (mom?) sent me flowers, with a card ostensibly from J. "Hey Mom -- have a good day. I love you. (J.)" That, combined with my husband's wacky BabyTrack updates on the computer, got the waterworks going again.
Long story short, I made it till 2:30 and then worked from home on my laptop. I'll stay a bit later each day this week (today I stayed till 3:30), and I imagine that I'll be "full on" next week.
The sameness reflected itself mainly in the overall staff (fortunately, there's been fairly low turnover) and, frustratingly, the circuitous nature of the interactions employees have with our information services team. It's hard to build these bridges. Or they fall down a lot, or something.
The differences, however, were uniformly positive. People at work are getting more and more excited about ways to organize, save, manipulate and enhance the information they gather. Wikis and PowerPoints are connecting...discussions are happening on travel blogs while our designers are in the field...employees are responding well to our daily industry and design mailings.
I credit my two associates with much of this; they have the youth, energy and patience to evangelize these capabilities and rally behind them. (Is my jadedness showing?) Now to focus on insinuating ourselves at the early stages of projects, in order to ensure that we not only provide teams with information and inspiration, but that we help them make the best use of what they have already collected.
OK, now to the tough part. Driving to work s-u-c-k-e-d. I alternated crying jags with finding deep meaning in each Top 40 song being played on the radio.
Once at work, the distraction helped. A mysterious stranger (mom?) sent me flowers, with a card ostensibly from J. "Hey Mom -- have a good day. I love you. (J.)" That, combined with my husband's wacky BabyTrack updates on the computer, got the waterworks going again.
Long story short, I made it till 2:30 and then worked from home on my laptop. I'll stay a bit later each day this week (today I stayed till 3:30), and I imagine that I'll be "full on" next week.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
In Which Kanga is Fretful
I return to work tomorrow. My husband will take care of J at home for the next three months or so. I have full confidence in the two of them as a superhero duo, of course, but am equally confident that my insides will twist around for a while as I adjust to this new situation.
The truest thing about parenthood is that all the cliches are right on the money, at least in my case. You love your child beyond all reason. You would die for them. You could, if called upon, kill to save them. You know that someday they will break your heart. And they are more interesting than anything else that could appear before your eyes.
The old cynic in me chafes at the admission that the sappy Hallmark cards have got it right. At the same time, this former cynic now joyfully waves the white flag of sappiness.
Tune in tomorrow for tales from work, in which I try to wrap my brain around issues of information retrieval, transmission and organization after 3 1/2 months away.
The truest thing about parenthood is that all the cliches are right on the money, at least in my case. You love your child beyond all reason. You would die for them. You could, if called upon, kill to save them. You know that someday they will break your heart. And they are more interesting than anything else that could appear before your eyes.
The old cynic in me chafes at the admission that the sappy Hallmark cards have got it right. At the same time, this former cynic now joyfully waves the white flag of sappiness.
Tune in tomorrow for tales from work, in which I try to wrap my brain around issues of information retrieval, transmission and organization after 3 1/2 months away.
Monday, January 14, 2008
In Which Kanga and Roo Visit a Grocery Store
Today J and I ventured out to New Seasons for the first time. I was pleased to discover these narrow shopping carts they have that you can use to buy oh, three items, while placing the car seat on the "upper deck." They are actually pretty cool.
It amazed me how nervous I was, juggling clam chowder, a brownie, the cart, and my wallet, all focused on getting myself SAT DOWN in ten seconds or less. My friend Annie and her baby were much calmer.
I turned to her as we wheeled the carts into the dining area and commented that much of my time spent out of the house with J was focused on making sure I didn't annoy anyone.
If eighty percent of life is showing up, for me the other twenty percent is making sure no one else is uncomfortable. As J gets bigger and louder, this could become a challenge.
I'll spare you the details of the Tense Diaper Blowout Change.
It amazed me how nervous I was, juggling clam chowder, a brownie, the cart, and my wallet, all focused on getting myself SAT DOWN in ten seconds or less. My friend Annie and her baby were much calmer.
I turned to her as we wheeled the carts into the dining area and commented that much of my time spent out of the house with J was focused on making sure I didn't annoy anyone.
If eighty percent of life is showing up, for me the other twenty percent is making sure no one else is uncomfortable. As J gets bigger and louder, this could become a challenge.
I'll spare you the details of the Tense Diaper Blowout Change.
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