Category: Children

Swing low, sweet baby

So I have a confession to make. Both of my sons have slept extensively in swings for the early part of their lives. Simply put, both of them really liked their swing and slept well in it. This is especially true when they have a cold and their poor little nosykins are all stuffed up. And when your baby is sick and sleeps better in a swing, well, you stock up on D batteries and put the baby in the swing.

I was reading an article about SIDS, though, and wondering. The conjectures are that SIDS happens when CO2 gets trapped by a baby’s mouth and nose, and instead of stirring to wake themselves and shift position like a grownup would do, they simply keep breathing it until they suffocate. In a swing, the air is moving much more than it does when the child is still. Has anyone ever done a study of SIDS incidence in swings versus cribs? Might it not actually be better for the baby?

Call the doctor, mommy puts me to sleep in a swing!
Call the doctor, mommy puts me to sleep in a swing!

A sucker for data

I’m not sure when this started. I think it has something to do with organizing data for a living. (How are computer programmers like librarians?) But I’m a sucker for hard, empirical data.

For example, my company has no log of hours worked. But on my own, really for my own benefit, I’ve logged my hours for roughly the last 5 years. Why? To what end? I have no idea. I just like the fact that they are bona fide real facts and I can keep track of them.

Which brings us to today. When you nurse a child, you have no idea how much they are eating. The amounts are quantified as: not enough, enough and too much. (Too much, for the curious, usually results in a return of a rather larger portion of milk than you appreciate. Usually over something that is dry clean only.) But when you go back to work and sit in a server room for half an hour a day with the Economist (this week) and a breast pump that wheezes “wax on, wax off” you end up knowing EXACTLY how much. And if you keep the variables relatively consistent (twice a day with a noontime nursing) you can, you know, keep track. With this lovely, empirical, completely pointless data.

11 ounces, in case you’re curious. Tigris appears to consistently produce half an ounce less than Euphrades.

So of course I have to start logging this data. Not because it’s important, useful or valuable in any way. No. Because it’s DATA.

Learning about ISO

Youre getting better mom
You're getting better mom

So I’ve been working my way through a book about photographing children. It had a small but useful chapter on the technical stuff that cameras do. I’ve discovered my point and shoot does NOT have any manual controls for aperture — the bit where you can blur backgrounds. Given the clutter that is the normal state of my environment, that would be mighty useful. But I did discover ISO, or how not to use a flash indoors. I think some of my photos are “noisy” from having gone too high in the ISO settings, but generally I like the light better.

The bulk of my pictures are of Thane. There are two reasons for this: 1) He is a baby and therefore massively photogenic 2) He sits still, unlike his cute (if snotty) older brother.

There are also one or two pictures I just thought looked cool and so left in place.

I laugh at you, stereotype that second children have fewer baby pictures than first! Thane shall not lack for baby pictures!

Here’s the link to my full set:

http://tiltedworld.com/brenda/pictures/LateJanuary2009/

A farewell to boys

So today I took both boys to daycare. I thought it would be easier to drop Thane off at daycare because:
1) He’s a full month older than Grey was when I first dropped Grey off
2) I’ve known Rubertina for three years now, and have had a good experience dealing with her and my FIRST baby
3) Thane is my second baby. These things get easier with practice, right?

Ha. Wrong.

It’s hard to drop your child off at daycare for the first time. I don’t think it gets easier until they get older, either.

It probably doesn’t help that I read this story about SIDS and how it happens disproportionately to children on their first day being taken care of by someone other than their mom, for reasons which are not yet clear. Also, SIDS risk is highest between 2 – 4 months. Thane is 3 months old. I wish to heaven that SIDS didn’t exist and that the fear of him simply dying while asleep was an irrational one. I’m good and dealing with irrational fears. The fact that it is rational and it happens to sweet, smily, healthy children with no warning while they are peacefully sleeping is, to put it simply, utterly terrifying. We have as few risk factors as possible (no smoking, not premature, Caucasian baby, sleeps on his back, room’s not too warm, no blackets, yadda yadda) but it still isn’t zero.

These are the things that occupy your mind one the first day you drop your sweet, beloved child off at daycare. Or rather, the night before, to the great chagrin of your husband.

Happily, the things I worry about are statistically extremely unlikely. I bet that the drive too and from is riskier — especially in this weather. (On second thought, perhaps not such a happy thought.) I look forward to snuggling that sweet little body close to me tonight!

Thane at three months

Thane on tummy time

I’m spending this week getting ready to go back to work. That’s involved a lot of cooking, shopping, laundry and doctors appointments. (There’s nothing wrong, I’m just cramming a year’s worth of appointments into the last week or so.) You always wonder how you are going to handle things when life is about to change. How will I deal with a baby? How will I deal with a second child? Will I go nuts at home? Will I get any sleep? How will I deal with work? Will I ever have any time to myself ever again?

I’ve learned that in general, you do manage and you do cope. But I’ve really enjoyed this time at home with my children. For the most part. Poo excepted. Still, the time is coming for me to return to work, and that’s also a good thing. I’m just making two of my most time-consuming recipes this week as a farewell (tonight: turkey).

It will be particularly difficult to leave Thane. For a quarter of a year, I have rarely gone anywhere without him. For three quarters of a year prior to that, I went nowhere without him. You would think experience would provide consolation… he’s a month older than Grey was when Grey went to daycare. He’s going to a woman I’ve known now for three years. His big brother will be there, and Grey is quite capable of watching over Thane and letting me know what goes on. Heck, I’ll still be there nursing at lunch. But oh, he’s such a joy.

I’m still struggling to decide whether Thane is a more mellow child than Grey was, or whether I am a more mellow and experienced mother. I think a little of both. Thane spends a lot of time quietly watching the tumultuous world into which he was born. He has this amazingly clear, patient gaze.

Thane is starting to gain control over his body. His hands reach out and grasp what they encounter — particularly endearing when what they encounter is your finger. He has started playing with toys. There was a remarkable day when that simply BEGAN. He reached out his hand and grabbed the beak of this colorful bird that was his Christmas present. For maybe even 20 minutes he reached his hand out to where his attention was riveted. He’s also much more active when he does move. We find him perpendicular to where he was placed in his crib. He managed to turn on the bubbler by kicking it. He rolled over again (front to back) after a month hiatus or so. He scootches across the floor.

He smiles all the time. He grows unhappy if he can’t see people, but will contentedly sit for quite a while if I remain in view. His smile is radiant, transcendent, glorious. The gummy toothless smile of a child who loves you best in the world is hard to top.

He’s a big kid. He’s well into 3 – 6 month outfits. They fit perfectly, boding ill for how long they’ll continue to fit. He’s pretty strong — he holds himself up sitting (although he lacks balance to sit by himself). His neck is very stable, and his grip impressive.

He has the auburn hair of his great-grandfather. I’ve seen pictures of my grandfather as a young man, and Thane has the exact same hair color (for what hair he has).

We are still doing very well nursing, and I have oodles of milk frozen for his journey to daycare.

Grey is an amazing big brother. I keep waiting for the resentment or impatience. Grey and I have our conflicts (over pretty much everything else), but he never ever turns his ire or impatience against his brother. (Yet.) Yesterday, the boys and I were in Thane’s room. Grey decided to spread a blanket on the floor and asked if he and Thane could have a sleepover. How delightfully imaginative! I was so impressed that he figured out a way to play with Thane that he could do! (Thane’s few skill indeed include lying on one’s back on a blanket.) Grey is incredibly careful and gentle with him, and it was wonderful to see my two boys ‘playing’ together.

It is time for me to go back to work and flex those disused muscles. I think it is a right and necessary thing. But oh. I will miss my boys.

Some strings attached

I just got an unsolicited package of baby formula. I thought there were ethical rules they agreed to abide by NOT to do that to nursing mothers. I have to guess that the timing (you know, about the time most women have to return to work) is not coincidental.

Do you wonder why I’m mad at getting free baby formula?

1) Breastfeeding has been shown to generally be the best option for babies. (Note: it’s not always possible and isn’t ALWAYS the best option)
2) Studies have shown that women who are given free formula are less likely to continue successfully breastfeeding (http://www.breastfeedingonline.com/free.shtml)
3) Even using a little formula can affect milk production. Milk is a “use it or lose it” proposition — mom’s make as much as their baby’s drink, so if their baby’s drink some formula instead of milk, the mother creates less milk. This is a very difficult cycle to break.

So sending a mother about to reenter work free formula (two whole cans!) might tempt her to use some of them (for a good night’s sleep, or to do that instead of pumping at work — assuming that’s an option). That will create a dependency for the child for the rest of their time nursing, which is usually until about 12 months.

Oh well. I’ll donate them to a food bank. There are moms who can’t nurse, shouldn’t nurse (if they are doing drugs, for example), or can’t pump at work. Formula isn’t evil. But this method of marketing it is, I think, underhanded.

I like my milk pre-caffeinated
I like my milk pre-caffeinated

I miss work

So. Grey is EXHAUSTED. Falling asleep in the car. Pitching fits over, well, everything. He had to be physically carried out of my husband’s office. (Today’s adventure was “Let’s go see where daddy works!”) SO TIRED. We come home. I feed him lunch (which he promptly feeds to his glass of milk). He pitches a fit about going to bed. I strong arm him into his diaper and into his bed.

Half an hour later I change his poopy diaper. He totally knows when he has to poop and lies about it. Then glibly repeats what he should have done. Oh well, at least it’s in the diaper.

I go back down about an hour ago to tell him to GO TO SLEEP ALREADY.

Quiet ensues. I’m on the third floor. He’s on the second. I no longer use a baby monitor for his room, so I measure sleepiness by thumps and times he comes to find me.

Due to an unusual pattern of noise, I get suspicious.

I go down.

He is now wearing underwear. (Where the hell is his diaper?) He is carrying a bottle of Purell that had been on his (theoretically unreachable) top of his dresser — in the middle. It has been filled with water and emptied — I see a patch in his room.

He is put back to bed in BIG TROUBLE.

Then I go downstairs, following a trail of droplets. There is a fine spray of water EVERYWHERE, as if he sanitized every one of his forbidden steps, leading to a large cache of illegally obtained dice.

I go back upstairs and give him the what-for, including an open-ended ban on all dice, including his private stash. I think this ban will be lifted when he is capable of reading the entire Dungeon Master’s Manual by himself and calculating an appropriate challenge rating for a band of four fifth-level characters.

Then I find out he has poured this brew over the antique teak chest his great grandfather smuggled back in a submarine in WWII, carrying his great grandmother’s wedding silks in it.

I cry.

I contemplate what I can possible do to communicate the enormity of his crime.

I install the baby monitor in his room. His little brother is a piece of cake by comparison.

I wonder if I can ground him until kindergarten.

(UPDATE: Fortunately for him, the chest appears to be ok. Maybe I’ll only ground him for 2009.)

Of all the things I’ve lost I miss my concentration the most

I’ve started this post about 12 times — not because I have something incredibly delicate or important to say, but because each post has gotten to about the second paragraph and petered out into incoherence. I think I’m starting to show mental symptoms due to the social isolation, interrupted sleep, insufficient mental stimulation (I am coming to believe I have a high need for mental stimulation), and overdose of quality time with my kids.

My mom said that these last few weeks of maternity leave would propel me back into the workforce with a right good will. I think she’s right. I am a perfectly adequate full time mother. But I don’t think it’s where I’m best suited.

Here are some of the disjointed truths that have emerged:

1) Thane has the auburn hair of his great-grandfather Virgil. I saw it in the sunlight this morning and was awed by the realization. There is a hand-tinted wedding picture of my grandparents, shortly after the end of WWII. Thane’s hair is just that color.

2) Grey’s vocabulary has exploded while being at home with me. I’m pretty sure that the extensive time we’ve spent together has just pushed that forward, not made it happen at all. He’s started listening to the radio when I have it on and asking me questions. “What’s “stand up for” mean? What’s a “podcast”? Why are they saying “dangerous”?” You try to explain Hilary Clinton’s Senate testimony, the intricacies of new media, and a discussion of Guantanamo to a three year old.

3) I had been thinking that Grey wasn’t really doing the three year old “why” thing to the level I expected. To some extent, that’s actually true. But then I realized that he often asks “what” when he means “why”. He’s using many more words than three months ago, but not all of them correctly.

4) I would rather be on maternity leave in, say, July. The house is clausterphobic (and cold) in 10 degree weather.

5) I am starting to be concerned about how much sleep I’m needing. I go to sleep with my husband, and wake up 2 to 3 hours after he does. I’m still tired and have trouble concentrating throughout the day. Not all of that can be blamed upon my moonlight wakings. Am I secretly depressed? Do I have mono? Am I paying back a serious sleep debt? Am I opportunistic? Might it be related to the calorie restriction of my diet?

6) Speaking of diet, I lost about 5 pounds last week. I’m debating whether that’s a fluke (water weight, etc.), a problem, or a really effective diet. Part of me is excited about prepregnancy weight in a month. Part of me thinks this is a bad idea.

7) I’m not a very good disciplinarian when I have to do it full time, all the time.

8) Thank heaven for books. As they have been through my life, they’ve been my escape and sanity. I hate it when I remember my dreams and they’re boring.

9) My husband and I have an actual date on Friday, with a babysitter and all. We’re going DANCING. In 0 degree weather. Isn’t insanity grand?

10) Grey begs for a Ninetendo DS several times a day. Both Jordan and Pablito at daycare have one (brothers) and they don’t share. I have no idea what to do. Make it a potty training reward? Buy one for our planned July 4th trip to DC? Resist peer pressure and prove that begging has no effect? We are entering the next stage of parenting with him, and I, for one, am not ready.

11) I have fewer friends than I thought I did. Or rather, I have many fewer people who I can see in real life than I thought — especially on short notice. I know I am socially isolated. It’s not good for me. Compounding that is that I’m not online as often as usual (one of my typical sources of socialization) and that I really, truly have trouble getting out. I’m still nursing Thane like every 2 hours during the day, and every 4 at night. I miss getting to hang out with real live people and chat. On the flip side, I feel depressed by the realization I have little to talk about but parenting and my latest adventure into novels.

12) I’m making good progress on the whole “back” issue. I have an appointment set up with the Spine Center associated with the big health services conglomerate in the area to Figure Out What’s Wrong. I’m guessing that I’ll get some imaging and physical therapy — that sounds just right for me. I also have my first general physical in years scheduled. I have done my pap smear with my midwife for the last several years. I don’t even remember when my last true physical was.

13) I tried acupuncture this week, in my big push to Get Out of the House. It was interesting. Most profoundly, the room was nice and warm and dark and quiet. Mmmmmm…. warmanddarkandquiet. The acupuncturist said I was the healthiest person she’d seen all day. I do better when I don’t have work stress — at least physically.

14) It has been fascinating to see separate parts of my life merge on Facebook. My high school English teacher, my Sunday School kids, friends from my high school youth symphony (mostly the strings — where are the winds?!), a coworker, my long-term friends, my mom… I usually think that I have one self and that self is presented to the whole world. While not untrue, there is a bit of vertigo that comes from having your social circles collide.

15) I miss writing, but feel like I have both little to say and insufficient time in which to say it. Perhaps it is not so much time which is missing, but concentration. Even in bullets, I’m having trouble.

16) I have only a fortnight to go. I have no idea how everything that needs doing will get done when I go back to work. I take it on faith that it will.